Page 26 of Her Secret Santa

An array of masks sit waiting for a Jewel on a wall. Well, tonight, I’m a Diamond.

I select a silver mask and tie it around my face, making sure it sits comfortably across the bridge of my nose, then slowly open the door to my right. I guess the door to the left is for first timers, and the right is for those of us who’ve been invited back. The same Floor Master from last time stands with her back to me, looking out over the club through a floor to ceiling pane of glass. Her hands are clasped loosely behind her back, the very picture of calm control.

“Select your bracelets,” she instructs. “I’ll escort you to your Elite when you’re finished.”

I take a deep, calming breath, trying to stop my head from spinning. I never expected to be invited back, especially not with an expensive diamond bracelet glittering on my wrist. It all feels like a dream, so thrilling and exciting that I can hardly think straight.

The first time with my Elite was so overwhelming that I can’t even remember it entirely. That night is just a wash of unceasing pleasure in my memory, broad hands on my body, clever tongue between my thighs, massive cock stretching me out so deliciously. I’m pretty sure I cried with pleasure. I know I came more times than I could keep track of. Just the thought of having those sinful hands on me again has wetness pooling between my thighs.

I shake my head to clear it before walking over to the table and selecting my bracelets. I remember most of the colors, and pick many of the same as I did last time. Submission, praise, bondage, choking, impact, discipline, primal play, all stacked on my wrist. I add a twisted pink and white band for oraland orange for overstimulation. He didn’t even have to try to overstimulate me last time, and the thought of him intentionally pushing me over the edge is enough to have me wet already.

The thought of having a name to shout out when I cum makes me shiver, but I know that’s not in the cards.

“I’m ready.”

My heart pounds in my chest in pure excitement, my limbs buzzing with anticipation. She turns, holding her hand out.

“Your wrist,” she says with an air of professionalism as if she’s said the same thing hundreds of times. “I need to see your code.”

She flips the small engraved tag over to read it. No more words are exchanged between us as she leads me around the edge of the crowd and up a flight of stairs I didn’t see last time. The second we reach the top landing, my eyes fall on my Elite.

Even if his hair didn’t shine like cobalt under the lights, the way he looks at me is unmistakable.

He stands before we make it to the table he’s sitting at, all predatory grace and a hungry grin stretched across his face. My Elite wraps a muscled arm around my waist, dipping to take my lips in a demanding kiss.

“You made me wait,” he says against my lips.

“Sorry, Sir. I got here as fast as I could. Let me make it up to you?”

His teeth snap against my bottom lip, both praise and a warning, and he smiles widely as he pulls away.

“Oh, you will, little one.”

He takes my hand, leading me down the hall and into a room. It’s different from last time, but the setup is similar. Impact tools hang on one wall, a few dressers on the other, and an expansive bed in the center of the room.

“Got a few new colors tonight,” he comments, stepping into the room behind me and kicking the door closed.

He wraps his arm around my body and fits his hand to my throat, keeping me firmly in place as he presses himself to my back. He feels like electricity and heat, and I want to beg him for more already. He only really used his hands and his mouth last time, and feeling his whole body against me like this makes me a little lightheaded.

“You’re so sensitive,” he says as he slips his hand up to cup my jaw. “Sure you can handle overstimulation?”

He’s right, but I want him to leave me aching and overwhelmed for days to come. I was sore for the entire day following my first night here, my internal muscles overworked and raw. The thought of that pleasant pain lingering for longer makes me shiver with desire.

“Please.”

“And oral,” he hums, tapping at the pink and white bracelet. “To give, or receive?”

It’s easier to be brazen with my back to him, and I press back into the expanse of his chest, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“Whatever you think I deserve, Sir.”

“Good fucking girl,” he snarls, dropping his hand from my face to my waist so he can yank me back tighter against me. “How about I leave some marks on you tonight?”

I shiver at the thought, my whole body buzzing with desire. It’s like he read my mind.

“Please, Sir. Nothing above the collar.”

He tucks his face into my throat and chuckles, nipping at the skin there softly.

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