Page 36 of Cruel Master

Genevieve moved to my side, opening a locker between Mare and me. “Are you excited, Mrs. Belmonte?" she asked curiously as Katerina and America talked.

“Please,” I said, “call me Angel. And … I suppose so.” Excited wasn’t the word I would have used, but these women likely weren’t aware of the details of my current relationship with Gaven. A marriage … I wouldn’t call it. More like captive and captor. For now, anyway.

Genevieve gave me a knowing look. "First time?"

I nodded.

“Don't worry, it might be a bit overwhelming at first, but I'm sure you'll find something you enjoy. I doubt Mr. Belmonte would have brought you here if you weren’t in a similar relationship as the rest of us.”

Similar? Maybe. With stipulations. This was Gaven’s kink, and though I remembered how it had made me feel—curious, aroused, hungry for more—a real BDSM relationship would have required trust and understanding, and that, we didn’t have.

“If you’re uncomfortable, just tell Gaven,” Mare piped up. “That’s what safe words are for.”

I sighed and let my gown go. It drifted down the length of my body until it hit the floor at my feet. “You’re right,” I lied easily. Though Gaven had said I could use the term ‘red’ before, as it stood, I doubted that would always stop him, not when he was holding me against my will and I was still seeking out any chance I could to get away.

“She’s right,” Genevieve agreed. “You'll have that safety net then if you get pushed too far.” Genevieve and Katerina went about undressing at their own lockers, stripping out of their gowns as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

I reached for the underwear Gaven had provided and slipped them up my legs. Why wasn’t I surprised to find it a thong? The strings settled on my hips and I leaned down to pick up the evening gown I’d worn before hanging it up in the locker before me. As the other women talked amongst each other, I finished pulling on the bra and clipping it into place. The lace cups molded to my breasts and when I looked down, I was shocked to see that my nipples were clearly outlined.

I wasn’t the naive little virgin Gaven had first married, but being naked with him and within the confines of my prison—myroom—was different from being naked in front of strangers. I’d never expected him to be so comfortable forcing me to walk around a club in little more than …this.

Shaking away the thoughts, I continued to take off the jewelry I'd worn with the dress and set it inside the locker. Hesitating on the collar, I decided to leave it. If luck was with me, I wouldn’t be back for the rest. It was time for me to make my way out to him. I inhaled and turned towards the other women who were all waiting.

“Ready?” Mare asked.

I nodded. As ready as I’d ever be. She offered a kind smile and together, the four of us headed for the exit.

Though I had arrived at the club with no bra and no underwear, now that was all I wore. My breasts were squeezed into the tightest, smallest bra I’d ever seen in my life. Yet, the binding around my middle was perfectly comfortable. The fabric was soft and expensive. Even the lace that covered the cups at the front wasn’t scratchy or itchy. The problem was the cups themselves.

I normally preferred full coverage, but these were less than half-cups. They hefted my breasts up, my nipples on the verge of being revealed and the color definitely visible through the thin fabric as they cupped and squeezed me. Already, I knew where this night was bound to lead with this outfit dragged off of me and Gaven’s cock thrusting inside me. Just thinking about it made my insides clench. The tiny triangle of lace that covered my pussy did positively nothing to ease my nerves.

“Wait!” Mare called out as I moved towards them and I paused, frowning, thinking I’d forgotten something. She gestured down to my heels. “You might want to ditch those, or you’re going to have a really uncomfortable night.”

I glanced down and then at the rest of their feet. Katerina was the only one still in heels; Genevieve and Mare were both barefoot. That seemed unsanitary. I grimaced, and Mare must have seen the disgust on my expression because she snickered lightly and shook her head as I lifted my gaze back to hers.

“Don’t worry,” she said, practically reading my mind. “The floors are clean. Ian would never let me walk around in my condition unless everything was pristine.”

“I agree with her,” Katerina said. “Most subs prefer to go heel-less, unless their Doms request otherwise. If Gaven didn’t specifically tell you to keep them on, I think it’s fair for you to take them off.”

Gaven hadn’t said anything about footwear. So, I quickly turned back and divested myself of the heels, setting them inside the locker before relocking it and joining the group at the entrance.

“Better?” Genevieve asked.

“Actually, yeah,” I said, wiggling my toes. “Much.”

She nodded and leaned into Katerina. “Kat prefers to keep them on, but she’s nice to me.”

Katerina smiled gently down at Genevieve who, without her own heels, was several inches shorter. “I’d rather see you bound in other ways, pet,” she said.

I turned my gaze away, feeling like I was peeking into something intimate.

Mare stepped up next to me. “Many subs go barefoot,” she said. “Doms seem to like the idea of their submissives being in as little as possible, but them being fully clothed—something about the power dynamic.”

"It also saves time of having to take them off during play," Katerina explained. "Most who wear them either aren't comfortable being barefoot or wear them for their roles or kinks." It didn't take a genius to notice the smirk and heated gaze aimed toward Genevieve. "If you have any questions or want to talk about the club and lifestyle more, or just to chat, feel free to ask.”

“That’s kind of you,” I said, doubtful that I’d ever actually get that opportunity. “Thanks.”

Katerina nodded and then waved. "Bye, Mare. Bye, Evangeline, it was wonderful to meet you,” she said as she and Genevieve disappeared from the locker room.

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