Page 8 of Pleasured

“Yeah, Baxter and I went to Columbia together, so when he asked for a favor, I was more than willing to say yes.”

Baxter is one of the few people who know I am a part of a BDSM club, and that was accidental, as we bumped into each other one night and made an agreement to keep it between us. “I didn’t realize he was going to ask the owner,” I tell him.

“Like I said, Baxter and I went to college together, so it really was no big deal.”

“Well, I still appreciate it.”

“You are welcome. Enjoy your time here tonight, and maybe you’ll join permanently. Just please keep the rules in mind.”

“Of course.”

“If you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to,” he says and walks off. I finish my drink and head back to the lounge area to see if I can find someone to play with for the night. I make my way to a table in the back and sit in the corner seat, almost out of visual range of the others in the club. I can see everything, but I can’t easily be seen. There are a couple of potential playmates, they are my typical type, but I have no desire to talk to them, so I wait a little longer for someone that makes me want to move from this corner. I do like what I have seen of this club, and I am already planning on forking over the quarter of a million-dollar membership fee. I finally see a woman that I want to approach, but before I can even get out of my seat, someone else catches my eye. Trinitee!

My god, she looks delectable, in the corset and skirt showing off her thick thigh, and is that a thigh chain she’s wearing? I can picture using it to hold her in place as I drive inside of her. Is she a guest like me, or is she a member? I knew I sensed her Sub tendencies, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up since we are in a professional relationship. She is with another beautiful woman, and I wonder which one is a member or if they are both here as someone’s guest. They are certainly getting attention from the men and some women here tonight. I forget all about finding a playmate for myself and become a full-fledged stalker watching Trinitee all night. When they move towards the elevators, I follow at a discreet distance behind her, not to be noticed. A couple of men attach themselves to both of them, but the man trying to woo Trinitee cannot give her what she needs.Get a grip; I think to myself as I watch the lights stop on the second floor. Pushing the up button and wait impatiently for the elevator to open for me.

The doors swoosh opens a large space with low lighting and an elevated dais on the far end wall that boasts a platform bed. The colors up here are a dark blue-grey color, and there’s another bar too, but my eyes only look for one thing, Trinitee. I find her almost instantly. I make sure I find a spot to keep an eye on her without being seen.

This is some unhinged behavior, but I can’t seem to stop myself from doing it. And although I now know she is open to my lifestyle, I will not approach her, at least not while she is working for me.

Trinitee

I woke up more frustrated than I had been in weeks. Going to the club was supposed to help, but all it did was put me in this foul mood. I was enjoying the evening out with Shannon and Kendall had potential. He and I were watching a scene and preparing to play out our own scene when I thought I saw Kruze, and it went downhill after that. I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than trying to see if I really saw Kruze or if I was hallucinating. Eventually, Kendall grew frustrated with my wandering attention and went off to find a willing, attentive partner. Needless to say, I never saw Kruze again, so it was probably a figment of my imagination. But by the time I figured that out, I lost interest in everything and decided to go home early, which had Shannon cussing me out the whole way back home. Honestly, she was okay with going home, even though she comes to the club with me she is not a member the lifestyle isn’t quite her cup of tea. Personally, I think she just hasn’t found the right partner. I am set to meet with Kruze today at his downtown home, and I am pricklier than a cactus.

I pull the covers back and head to the bathroom to get ready, if his penthouse home is as big as his Gold Coast home, I’ll be there the majority of the day. I slip into a dress and heels, through some ballerina flats in my bag, spray on my perfume, and head to his downtown home. The old building has been recently renovated, and I wonder how many upgrades were done on his unit. I give my name to the man at the concierge desk, who hands me an access card and points me to the bank of elevators. I swipe the card, insert the code Kruze text me, and the elevator opens; there is only one option for me to select, and the doors close. The ride to the floor is quick and smooth; before I know it, the doors open to a beautiful foyer and view.

“Trinitee,” the greeting floats across to me and was that a smirk on his face?

“Kruze,” I reply cautiously because I suddenly feel like I am prey and I have walked into the predator’s den.

“Let me show you around,” he says, walking past me, dragging his hand lightly across my lower back, causing an involuntary shiver to work its way through my body before taking me by the elbow to guide me through his house.Did he do that on purpose?I question.Get over yourself.I think .Everything doesn’t revolve around you.I remind myself and get on with doing my job. I place my purse on the entry table, grab my tablet and get to work.

“It’s magnificent, it doesn’t necessarily need much work. What are you looking to have done?” I ask once the tour is over. He begins rattling off what he is looking for as I take notes.

“What about the third bedroom?”

“I have other plans for that bedroom. I already have another designer for it,” he tells me, causing me to hike both eyebrows up in surprise at his words.

“Oh, okay. Well, let me take another look around and get some measurements,” I say standing from the table to begin my solo walkaround. There aren’t any major renovations he is asking for; the biggest job will be the refinishing of the floors. Once again, I quickly get lost in the job, and I don’t stop to take a break until my stomach growls out, in angry protest alerting me to the fact that, once again, it’s been hours since I last ate.Interesting. When I realized, Kruze didn’t come to get me, and apparently, there was no lunch this time. I am glad I followed my instincts and packed something for me to eat. Heading to where I left my bag, I pull out the containers before walking back to the kitchen to find Kruze eating a fruit bowl. We stare at each other across the island as I place my containers in the microwave and head to the sink to wash my hands, but the microwave stops causing me to turn around and see Kruze standing there.

“What exactly are you doing?” he asks me.

“Heating up my lunch,” I say because isn’t it obvious?

“The food is late, but it is on its way. You never have to bring your own food, Trinitee. I will always make sure you are taken care of,” he tells me, and my pussy throbs from his words. I open my mouth to try to dispute his words when he gets an alert that someone is coming up on the elevator. I watch him walk out of the kitchen and visibly shudder; the man has enough swagger to share. A few minutes later, he walks back in, holding two large bags he places on the kitchen table. I watch him unpack the bags and meticulously set the table before turning towards me saying, “Let’s eat.”

I am not surprised to find my legs feel like noodles watching him set the table, moving with such concentration with those long sexy fingers.Can fingers be sexy?Well, his are, and without permission, I see his hands exploring every inch of my body. I literally flop in the chair since my legs give out completely.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yes, my legs are a little sore from all the bending I was doing to get measurements,” I say, and he only grunts in response.Dear god, is he going to sit here with me? Directly across from me?I haven’t recovered from the mini-fantasy, and now I am expected to watch him eat.Come on, Trinitee, you are a grown woman. You can do this.Before I can pick up my plate, he has it in his hand and is dishing up all my favorites; everything on this table is my favorite. I am a wreck the entire meal, but I do my best not to crawl across the table and offer myself to him for lunch instead of this delicious food. As efficiently as he sets the table, he clears it.

“How much longer will you be taking your measurements?”

“Not much longer,” I reply, already planning another visit to the club. This has gotten ridiculous, and I have to find a Dom asap. Pushing back from the table, our eyes are locked, and I am frozen in place. I don’t move again until he gives me an almost imperceptible nod, and I almost bolt out of the kitchen.

I am wrapping up the final measurements and pictures when I feel him behind me. Slowly I turn on my heels to face him.

“Heading out?” He asks.

---