Page 43 of The Trail Boss

It seemed as though, for the first time in years, Roxie felt truly free—free from her past, her fears, and the chains that hadheld her back for so long. But as her eyes met Gavin’s, something seemed to stir deeper within her. It was as if she understood this wasn’t just freedom—it was a beginning.

Together, they hadn’t just survived the worst; they’d forged a bond in the fire. And as the future stretched wide open before them, one thing was clear: their story was just getting started.

15

ROXIE

The soft hum of conversation floated through the air in the submissives' lounge, a private retreat tucked away in the Iron Spur. The space was warm and inviting, with plush furniture, muted lighting, and an air of quiet camaraderie. Roxie stood in front of one of the full-length mirrors, barefoot on the thick rug, clad in only her booty shorts and holding the black satin corset to the front of her body.

Keely Malone was behind Roxie, threading the laces of Roxie’s corset with practiced ease. Her fingers moved deftly, pulling the ribbons through each grommet, her expression one of focus and care.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Keely asked, her dark eyes meeting Roxie’s in the mirror.

Roxie nodded, smoothing her hands over the corset’s boning as it began to take shape around her waist. “Yeah. I mean, I think so,” she said with a nervous laugh. “It’s just... new.”

“New can be good,” Keely said with a reassuring smile, tugging gently at the laces to tighten them. “And you’re going to look stunning.”

Roxie let out a shaky breath, watching as the corset began to mold to her body, accentuating her curves. The rich brocadesatin gleamed softly in the light, its delicate lace trim adding an air of elegance. She’d never worn anything like this before, and the way it made her feel—powerful, vulnerable, and incredibly feminine—was almost overwhelming.

“It’s just... snug,” Roxie murmured, her cheeks flushing.

Keely chuckled. “Oh honey, snug is only the beginning.” She gave the laces another hard tug. “That’s the point. A corset isn’t just about how it looks. It’s about how it makes you feel. Supported. Held.”

Roxie caught Keely’s gaze in the mirror again, her friend’s words sinking in. There was something grounding about the tight embrace of the corset, as if it was a physical reminder to stand tall, to own the space she was in.

“How’s that?” Keely asked, tying off the laces in a neat bow at the base of Roxie’s spine.

Roxie turned slightly, admiring the way the corset cinched her waist and enhanced her figure. “It’s... wow,” she said, her voice breathless. Normally she didn’t have big boobs, but the corset made her look like she’d had surgery.

“Wow is right,” Keely said with a grin, stepping back to admire her work. “You look like you just stepped out of Gavin’s fantasy.”

Roxie laughed, smoothing her hands over the satin again. “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this... confident.”

Keely leaned closer, resting a hand lightly on Roxie’s shoulder. “You should. You’re incredible, Rox. And if Gavin doesn’t lose his damn mind when he sees you, I’ll eat my corset.”

Roxie’s blush deepened, but she couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For this. For everything.”

“Anytime,” Keely said, squeezing her shoulder gently. “Now, take a deep breath, walk out there, and own it.”

Roxie nodded, her nerves still fluttering but her confidence growing with every passing second. She would have liked to have reached for a robe, but they weren’t allowed on the dungeon floor.

As she stepped out of the lounge, she felt the weight of the corset’s embrace and Keely’s encouragement bolstering her. Tonight, she wasn’t just Roxie—she was a woman stepping into her power, ready to face whatever came next.

The energy inside the Iron Spur hummed with a low, electrifying buzz—and here on the dungeon floor, it was magnified. It wasn’t the usual crowd tonight—just select members and special invitees, including some of the women from Roxie’s pole dancing class. A blend of curiosity and excitement rippled through the guests as established members gave discreet tours, explaining the club’s purpose and rules with quiet confidence.

Roxie lingered near the bar, sipping a glass of chilled white wine as she watched Vanessa, the romance author who’d inspired her, chatting animatedly with one of Roxie’s students. The club, with its shadowed corners and the soft glow of its ambient lighting, felt alive, almost celebratory after the storm they’d all weathered.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Gavin’s low, familiar voice sent a shiver down her spine. Roxie turned to find him standing beside her, impossibly handsome in his tailored black leathers—trousers, vest and boots. His presence was magnetic, commanding without effort.

“I am,” she said, smiling. “It’s... different, seeing the club like this. Less intense, more... welcoming.”

His lips curved into a faint smile. “It’s not always about intensity, Rox. Sometimes it’s about trust. About letting go.”

Her breath hitched slightly at the way his gaze lingered on her, the unspoken promise in his words sending a thrill through her. “Is that right?”

Gavin leaned in, his voice dropping lower. “You’ll see.” Before she could respond, he reached for her hand, his touch firm but gentle. “Come with me.”

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