Ann Mayburn - Sodom and the Phoenix

Besides, strong women weren’t submissive, couldn’t be submissive. In fact, maybe she was a dominatrix. Yeah, that was it. She wanted to be the one wielding the whip. Well, actually the thought of whipping anyone made her ill, but she’d spank them and call them names that didn’t involve swear words.

“Thank you, but no.” She ducked out from beneath his arm, and her body yelled at her in protest. “I must be on my way. Good day, Sir.”

“Wait,” he said in a low voice, and her feet froze to the spot. How did he do that?

“Really, I—”

He gestured toward her shoulder where her blouse had slipped down. “What’s the tattoo of?”

She tugged at her shirt and tried to ignore his bemused smile. “It’s a phoenix rising from the ashes.”

His intense gaze held her for another moment before he hooked his thumbs into his belt. “You surprise me, little flame. Not many people can do that anymore.”

Before she could think of an adequate response, a young and high-breasted brunette dressed as some type of beer girl from a porno movie knelt next to Bryan and asked in a seductive voice, “Master, may I serve you?”

Tanwen’s heart lurched as she compared her body, which had given birth to two babies, with the unmarked and taut frame of the younger woman. Bryan didn’t even glance at her, looking instead down at the brunette with an inscrutable expression. Without another word, Tanwen spun on her heel and marched into the crowd, feeling like a fool.

Bryan gritted his teeth and glared at airheaded girl who wouldn’t leave him alone. He never lacked in attention from submissives who wanted the attention that came with being his sub. This particular girl had been after him for the last few years, and he was getting tired of trying to nicely turn her down. Some people just couldn’t take a hint. “Brandy, I told you not to call me that. I’m not and never will be your master.”

She looked at him through her fake eyelashes and pouted. “Forgive me, Sir. Would you like to punish me?”

He grimaced down at her. She treated him like he was some young dom who would be fooled into giving her what she wanted. “No. Go away.”

The blonde clerk from the front desk hurried to him with some papers in her hand. “Excuse me. Your friend, Ms. Evans, left these on the counter.”

Without bothering to correct her, he gave her a charming smile. “Thank you. I’ll make sure Ms. Evans gets it.”

He moved swiftly through the crowd, trying to follow the pretty blonde woman as she jammed herself into an elevator with her luggage. She must have seen him coming, because her soft cheeks flooded with color and her big hazel eyes grew wide. Before he could reach them, the elevator doors closed. He could almost hear her sigh of relief.

Disbelief followed by amusement had him shaking his head as he stared at the closed doors of the elevator. It had been a long time since a submissive had run away from him. He’d actually become used to subs falling all over his feet at his local BDSM club. He felt a flash of chagrin as he realized he’d become accustomed to the adoration.

A boisterous group of young men dressed in leather piled out of one of the elevators, and he moved out of the way. He enjoyed seeing the next generation experimenting and embracing the BDSM lifestyle, but he wouldn’t trade the experiences that had made him the man he was now for any chance at a second youth. One of the young men gave his partner a kiss while another guy in their group gave them a jealous glare.

That kind of drama he for sure didn’t miss. When you’re young, everything is a crisis. The last sub he’d had as a girlfriend had been fifteen years his junior, and he’d soon grown tired of her fits if he had to work late or her meltdowns over the littlest things. He mentally winced as he recounted how many young women he’d been with over the past four years. For the first time in a long time, he felt he needed a woman who had some experience, a lady in the finest sense of the word. Someone like his late wife.

He sighed and pushed that thought out of his mind and heart. Six years ago, his submissive and wife had passed away from breast cancer. It had taken him a long time to learn how to deal with the hole she left. Her passing had given him a new respect for living every day to its fullest. Katie had such a zest for life, and he missed her.

A high-pitched voice cut through his thoughts, and he rolled his eyes as the noisy redhead domme who had given the desk clerk such a hard time berated the bellman for being slow. Her submissive male was standing off to the side, looking decidedly unhappy and watching her with narrowed eyes. If Bryan had been a betting man, he would have put a thousand dollars down that the submissive wouldn’t be with that domme much longer.

As the redhead pranced across the foyer in her high-heeled black boots, Bryan shook his head in disgust. The BDSM lifestyle attracted its share of assholes and bitches who used the dom title to act like complete jerks, and they annoyed the hell out of him. To them a submissive wasn’t someone to cherish and protect; they were objects to fulfill the wannabe dom’s own selfish desires.

He considered talking to the other founding members of Leather Kiss and having her kicked out but decided to just have her watched instead. His gut told him she was trouble, and he’d be damned if any subs got hurt on his watch because of her. A quick glance at the front desk showed that the line was as long as ever, and he decided to call in a personal favor instead of dealing with that hassle again.

The papers in his hand crinkled, reminding him of the lovely little blonde who had made him rock hard while she trembled beneath his fingertips. If it was just a grocery list or something of that nature, he could probably just throw it away, but if it was something important, he would give it back to the clerk and let her send it to Tanwen’s room.

Oh, he could probably find out her room number and deliver it in person, but he had a feeling that wasn’t the right way to approach her. At first he had mistaken her for a sub because of her calling him Sir, but he quickly realized she was just a polite person. He’d always loved that in a woman. The edge of class and manners usually hid a fiery passion. The way her big hazel eyes had widened as their hands met had furthered his impression she was a sub, and the little tremor that ran through her body as he invaded her personal space had called to the dom in him.

She reacted in every way like an experienced submissive, so he’d been surprised when she claimed otherwise. He wondered if he was the first dom she had ever met. Considering her shocked reaction to everything going on around them, he was pretty sure he was. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and her finger showed no indent or tan line from having worn one anytime recently, but the way she’d stumbled over her last name told him she’d been someone other than Tanwen Evans.

Tanwen wasn’t ready to admit she was a sub, but he’d stake his reputation as a dom that with the right master, she’d be amazing. Already his mind had set on the idea of that master being him. He’d have to approach her as carefully as he would a skittish cat. Too much too soon and she would never come to him. It had to be just the right touch, the ability to let her know he could make her purr like no other man.

The first piece of paper was the itinerary for the convention, but the folded blue floral stationery behind it looked like something personal. After opening the piece of paper, he frowned as he read the feminine handwriting:

1) Relearn the pleasure of kissing.

2) Find out if the different types of orgasms really exi—

As soon as he realized what he was reading, he stopped and immediately felt guilty. This wasn’t a grocery list; this was some kind of wish list. He carefully folded the note and placed it in his pocket, removing the temptation to read more before he turned it in to the front desk. His mind raced as he imagined showing her just how enjoyable kissing could be, of feasting on her lips until they were pink and swollen. The things he could show her, the pleasure he could give her would blow her wish list out of the water.