𝓔𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴
"Master Cohen," A sultry voice purred, cutting through the heavy music of the club.
I turned, to see a woman swaying her hips as she walked toward me. She was dressed in a tight red dress that hardly went down past her hips. It looked more like lingerie than a dress. As one of my former submissives who held a temporary contract with me, she was both a memory and a complication that I didn't need tonight.
As the operations manager, it was my job to ensure the club activities went accordingly, which required me to be out on the floor most nights. I often attracted unwanted attention, due to my reputation. Being not only someone in command within the business, but also through experience.
I wasn't interested in short term contracts though, but these subs didn't seem to understand that. Many of them, like this woman, only wanted sex. I had different priorities than them, and they didn't care enough to learn that.
Dylan, who I'd been chatting with, gave me a knowing look and a pat on the shoulder before slipping away into the large crowd. He was probably off to find a drink strong enough to wash away our earlier conversation about Ed. It was the same discussion we'd been having for weeks.
"You look tense," She hummed as she stopped beside me, tilting her head as she looked up at me. A faint smirk played on her lips. "Work stress?" Her voice insinuating something more sexual.
"Not tonight," I said shortly, not wanting to play her games. Her smile only deepened at my reaction.
"Shame," She said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I heard Ed's been making trouble again. Let me guess, another bad investment?"
I remained silent. A bad investment would have been the better issue to deal with. This time, Ed's problems weren't related to money. Not yet at least. Once we get sued, then money will be involved.
"You're too good for this place," She said, leaning in closer to me. "You should walk away. Let Ed dig his own grave."
She was right. But if my time spent with her told me anything, it was that this woman had no care in the world for anything that didn't involve her. She wanted one thing from me.
"I'm not going to repeat myself," I said, my voice firm as I declined her advances.
She sighed softly as she turned to leave. "Suit yourself," She said "Y'know, some of the other subs say that you've gone soft," She teased, looking for a reaction that I wasn't going to give her. The girl scoffed as she began toward the dance floor. "You know where to find me when you change your mind."
As she disappeared into the crowd, I exhaled, the weight of Ed's incompetence and the club's provocations pressing harder against my temples. Dylan reappeared moments later, two glasses in hand. He didn't say a word, just handed one to me with a raised brow.
"Thanks," I muttered, taking the glass. I swirled the liquid once before taking a swig, appreciating the burn it provided.
"She never gives up, does she," Dylan commented, sipping at his own drink.
I sighed, "It's part of her charm,"
My phone buzzed in my pocket, catching my attention.
Sam: Will you be at Night Lux tonight?
Erick: I'm here now, but I won't be staying very long.
The response came almost instantly.
Sam: Can we talk?
Erick: Of course. Is everything Okay?
There was a pause before he texted again.
Sam: I just...
Sam: I'm on my way
My thumb hovered over the textbox to reply. Instead, I shut off my phone and returned it to my pocket. Typically as I've seen, Sam is direct and doesn't hide his motives. I grew concerned at his vague texts.
Whatever he needed to speak with me about at eleven in the evening, I would hear him out with open ears.
I excused myself from Dylan after thanking him again for the drink. He and I would need to find time to continue our talk from earlier, but for now, it could wait. I walked back to my office, leaving the blaring music and crowd behind. Once the door to the room was closed, the music was barely audible.
Not long later, there was a knock on the door. I set my glass aside on the desk as I went to open the door.
I was confused how he was here so fast, unless he was already on his way when he texted.
I opened the door, greeted by Sam with his arms crossed tightly across his chest and his eyebrows knit with discomfort. I stepped aside, allowing him into the office without further question. There was a look of discontent on his face, not specifically upset or confused.
"I'm sorry for arriving on such short notice," He said as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of where to go or what to do. "I just needed to... talk, I guess," He sounded off as he brushed his hair behind his ear.
"Is everything alright? I questioned, closing the door as I walked over to him. "Take a deep breath, amore," I demanded rather softly, more as a request.
His breathing though shaky, most likely from storming in here added onto the reason he was here in the first place.
"One more," I instructed as I stepped closer toward him. He seemed to calm down, even if just a little bit. His eyes were worrisome, full of unspoken emotion. "Now, what is the matter?" I questioned softly.
"Can I ask you a question?" Sam turned to look at me.
"Anything, amore,"
Sam sighed before speaking again, seeming at war with himself. "Why do you like D/s?" He asked sincerely. He held eye contact, not once looking away. He was searching for something, not simply asking questions for the hell of it.
His unexpected question caught my interest. That wasn't the direction I thought this was going. I thought for a moment before answering.
"Why do I like it?" I repeated the question. "In simple terms, control, I suppose," I answered. It wasn't an easy question to answer, since there was no rhyme or reason. "Not in the typical way. It's not just power for the sake of power, or dominance to make someone feel small."
Sam was quiet, taking it in, his eyes watching me carefully as he processed my words. As if he knew it to be true, but needed to hear it spoken out loud.
"It's intimacy, whether sexual or not," I continued, moving toward my desk. I picked up my glass and moved it to the mini bar in the office, leaving it to be forgotten. "A balance of give and take between individuals,"
Sam shifted in his stance. "But isn't it messed up in a way? Have you ever questioned the morals of it?" He asked gently. His question although worded in a way that could be offensive, was nothing of the sort.
I tilted my head at his question. Those didn't seem like his words or thoughts. If he truly thought the idea of D/s and BDSM as a whole was 'messed up', then he would never have come here in the first place. He wouldn't have made an effort to learn about it.
"It's not about blind submission or giving up every piece of yourself," I added. "There is nothing inherently wrong with it. Those who ridicule others for wanting that level of connection with their partner are afraid of it in their own right,"
I wasn't sure what drove him to question what he wanted, but I was glad he came to me about it. The mind can be a dangerous place, and sometimes we need someone to tell us something to believe it, even if it's something we tell ourselves, it has a different effect when coming from another person.
"Like anything, if it's done in the wrong way, then I could see how morals could be broken."
"What is the wrong way though?" He asked, brows furrowed.
There was a moment of silence, the tension was prevalent and uncomfortable. I leaned on my desk, facing Sam. "Come here," I said, gesturing him closer.
Although hesitant, he moved his feet toward me, stopping only a foot away, his arms still crossed.
"What made you question this?" I asked with a soft voice.
"A friend... or coworker said something about it at work. It wasn't the first time I'd heard someone close to me talk like that about D/s." He sighed again, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I was all up in my head when I got home from work," He answered. "It's been eating at me all evening. I needed the affirmation that it wasn't..." He went quiet. "Sick"
"It's not sick, amore. It's normal. If it truly was as sick as you're being told it is, then places like this wouldn't exist." I said, referring to the nightclub as a whole. I took his hand into mine, lifting it to my lips.
I placed a gentle kiss. "You are not sick. Don't let anybody convince you of that," I said. "Let me show you something," I murmured as I carefully took his hand into mine, guiding him to the door.
He looked confused for a split second, but followed willingly. I brought him out of my office, exiting the hallway as we came into the main room of the nightclub. I positioned him in front of me with his back against my chest. I held his hips firmly, keeping him steady in place.
"What do you see?" I asked, my voice low.
He took a moment to look around the club. His eyes roamed from the stage, to the bar, and to the people dancing. There were people sitting at VIP, there were people lounging in the booths by the stage with their partners, the list went on.
"I see people having fun," He answered.
"What do you hear?"
"Music, laughter," He listed again, almost tentatively.
"Now, close your eyes." I instructed, speaking softly, almost whispering as I spoke into his ear.
He followed my directions without question. His breathing turned soft and his body relaxed in my hold, no longer tense.
"What do you feel?"
His breath hitched as my hand drifted from his hips to his waist. He well built, muscled, and not overly slender like the girls who had been my subs in the past. He was a contrast that overruled the other subs, not only my previous ones, but all the ones in the club.
"You," He whispered as his hands came to rest atop mine.
I smiled against his ear, letting my hand trail upward, over his chest until it reached his jaw. Gently, I tilted his face to the side, his lips parting in surrender as I captured them in a slow, deliberate kiss. He gave in to my touch, allowing me to move him as his body stood pliantly in my hold.
He wasn't afraid of being seen, and neither was I. I wanted everyone to know that he was mine, even if only for tonight. He was willing to give me control, and I was willing to take it.
I pulled back slightly, enough to look into his eyes which were now calm. My thumb grazed his jaw as I held him steady.
"Does it feel so wrong now?"
He shook his head, "No, it... feels sort of right," He muttered with a shy smile.
"Just because others say something is wrong doesn't always make it true. Your desires are valid, and only you can decide what's right for you." I said with a more serious edge. "Do you understand?"
"Yes," He muttered, voice hardly audible.
"Good." I pulled him in again, capturing his lips once more. He gave into my touch as he allowed me into his mouth. He tasted sweet and addicting.
After a long, heated moment, Sam pulls away from me, eyes meeting mine. "Thank you. I needed this," He muttered.
"Of course, amore mio. I will be here for you when you need me,"
Sam chuckled lightly, a genuine smile playing at his lips. "You make it sound like we're dating,"
I quirked a brow, amused. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea," I replied, interested in the thought.
His hand slid between us, resting on my chest as he played with the fabric of my shirt, seemingly imagining the idea of it. He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a familiar voice.
"So, you must be Sam?" Dylan asked, his gaze falling to Sam.
I shot him a glare, annoyed that he felt the need to insert himself in the moment we were having.
"I've heard so much about you," Dylan added, smiling as he extended his hand to Sam.
Sam pulled away from me, creating a little space between us. He returned Dylan's handshake, still smiling.
"Uh, Yeah, I am," He chuckled. "And you are?"
"I'm Dylan. I work with Erick," He explained.
I cleared my throat, pulling Sam's attention back to me. "Dylan, we were getting ready to leave for the night," I said politely.
Sam tilted his head, his gaze dropping for a moment as I spoke. Dylan, sensing the shift, nodded with a casual smile.
"Ah, I see. Didn't mean to interrupt," Dylan said with a small chuckle. "Just wanted to say hello."
I understood why he was curious. Since the club opened, I hadn't gotten involved with any submissives. Dylan and I had known each other for years, so it was only natural that he'd be intrigued to see me with someone new. Especially that someone new being of the same gender as me. It had been a while since I was interested in another man, though gender wasn't a deciding factor for my interests.
I had also mentioned Sam to him a few times, so he had prior knowledge that I was interested.
"He's right," Sam said, giving me a small, reassuring smile. "I've had a long day at work. I only dropped by to talk with Erick. We should probably be on our way."
"Well, in that case, I hope to see you around Sam, it was nice to meet you," Dylan said his goodbyes.
Once Dylan had left, Sam's gaze shifted to me, a knowing look in his eye. "You've been talking about me?" He teased, that little smirk of his making an appearance.
I laughed softly. "Let's go. I'll walk you to your car," I offered.
"About that," He rubbed the back of his neck. "I actually walked here,"
"Walked here?" I said with surprise. "How long did it take you to get here?"
"Well, that doesn't matter." He said while shaking his head, "I thought the walk would help clear my head, but when I was close I figured I'd text you instead,"
I shook my head, smiling as I looked at him. "Then I suppose I should drive you?"
"I mean, you don't have to," He shrugged.
I chuckled, "Come on, let's get going," I said, taking his hand into mine. I walked him out to my car. The cold air was prevalent the moment we set foot outside, which made me concerned for Sam. Had he really walked all the way out here in this temperature?
I decided against saying anything about it again. Tonight wasn't the night to be lecturing him. Once we were inside the car, the heat kicked in and an idea came to me.
"How about we go to my place tonight?" I offered.
Sam looked surprised at the notion at first but accepted without much hesitation.
"Sure, that sounds perfect,"
I didn't want to take him home and for him to start thinking negatively again. Of course, I knew that he could handle himself, but I wanted to be there to make sure he was okay.
"I apologize for dropping in unannounced tonight." He said. "I don't mean to interrupt your work,"
"You're always welcome, amore mio," I replied, resisting the urge to tell him to stop apologizing. I saw him smiling out of the corner of my eye as I kept my focus on the road.
"Amore mio," He repeated, the syllables flowing smoothly. It sounded wonderful coming from him. "What does it mean?" He asked.
"My Love," I answered simply.
He hummed softly, leaning back in his seat. "You've called me that since we first met,"
I glanced at him briefly, his face illuminated by the passing street lights, it was a beautiful sight.
"I have," I admitted with a knowing smile. "It felt right."
He remained quiet, but even still, he was blushing. He always went quiet when he became flushed, whether he knew it or not. There was a comfortable silence between us as the radio played lowly.
As I turned onto a smaller side road, Sam looked out the window. It was pitch black outside without the aid of street lights in this area. I lived just outside of Burlington, the perfect distance away where I wasn't bothered by the sounds of cars and people.
I pulled onto my long driveway, where my house was hardly visible due to the trees. Sam was very attentive looking up at the moon. From my house, at this time of night, the moon accentuated the mountains in the distance. Their silhouettes were as clear as day.
I chuckled. "Let's get inside before we freeze," I said, parking my car in the garage.
I helped him out of the car and led him into the house. The motion-sensor lights in the garage turned off with an audible click as I flipped on the lights in the entryway. The warmth felt like another door as we entered from the cold garage. After closing the door, I turned back to Sam. He was looking around curiously, taking in the place.
"You live here alone?" He asked. "It's spacious,"
I smirked, "Yes, I enjoy having the space. Makes it feel less cramped." What can I say? I really despised living in New York City. Never having more than 800 square feet at my disposal.
Sam wandered into the living room, his gaze drawn to the window that framed the mountains in the distance. Their silhouettes from the moonlight made for a picturesque view.
"This view is incredible," He murmured, almost to himself.
I came to stand beside him, looking out the window as well. "It looks even better in the morning right before the sun crests over,"
"Better in the morning?" He turned to me, arching a brow. "Are you trying to convince me to stay the night?"
"Maybe," I said with a teasing smirk. "Depends if you'd like to. It's getting late, but if you'd prefer to go home then I have no issue driving you," I said.
He laughed softly, shaking his head. "It would be a hassle to drive all the way back to my condo, wouldn't it? We just got here after all," He said as if convincing himself. "I guess it wouldn't hurt,"
Sam smiled at me before turning away from the window as he took my hand into his. He didn't meet my eyes at first, his focus on our hands entwined together. When he finally looked up at me, there was a sense of comfortable vulnerability.
"Earlier, you mentioned give and take," He paused before speaking again, "I want to give," He said in a near whisper.
"Give what?" I asked softly, wanting to hear him say it.
"My control,"