I just signed
my novel The Taming
School with Sizzler Editions. As celebration, I wrote this little
teaser. Think of it as extra credit! It does happen after the novel
so, if you like it, please check my novel The Taming School to
discover how Kat and Peter got together. Please, enjoy.
Kat Valdez bit her
lip as Peter Richards led her toward Donovan’s. It was strange—a little
wrong—that it felt so uncomfortable and awkward coming here. It’s not as if
she’d never been there before. In the nine months that they’d been dating,
Peter had taken her to Donovan’s, a fairly trendy downtown bar and grill, on
several occasions. They’d grabbed drinks there, had dinner and dates there.
Hell, they’d even met there. It really shouldn’t feel so unfamiliar.
But, as she stared
at the large, mostly untrafficked oak door in the back of the restaurant, Kat
knew this wasn’t going to be like the other times before.
She took a deep
breath and stared at that door. It looked heavy and old, stained a dark, glossy
umber, and its thick, black hinges were beginning to rust. It held secrets,
that door. Housed things few people ever got to see or know.
“Are you sure
you’re ready?” Peter asked, turning to face her, his hazel eyes concerned
behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “We don’t have to do this tonight.”
No. Kat scrunched
her brows together. They did have to do this. Tonight. She’d put this off for
too long. Peter had been a part of Donovan’s exclusive membership for years
now—more than half a decade—but he hadn’t been to a party or an event for
almost a year now.
Because of her.
Because she hadn’t
been ready.
Tonight, she would
be ready. Even if she wasn’t so sure she was at this very moment.
So she bit her lip
and nodded. “I’m ready. Let’s go in.”
Peter smiled at
her, calming her nerves instantly with just that simple but familiar gesture.
He grabbed the strap of his toy bag, shoving it further up his shoulder before
touching her cheek. He grabbed her hand in his larger, lighter-skinned one,
squeezed—letting the familiar callouses and scars strengthen her—and opened the
door.
It was a little
disappointing that behind the Wonderlandian door was just concrete, gray and
dully ordinary. She frowned as they made their way down stark, black metal
stairs that trailed down in a helix. The stairs opened to a hallway, revealing
a concrete cave making up the walls, ceilings, and floors.
Peter had told her
that the parties were held in the bar’s basement. He had. It’s just that, she
supposed, she hadn’t been expecting the party to be in—well—a basement. It was
all just so plain for a playspace. So much more common than she imagined a kink
party to be.
They were on the
last few steps before she ever heard a sound, just a sigh, high-pitched and
breathy. It existed in that very tremulous state between pain and pleasure. A
place Kat knew well.
They stepped down
onto the concrete floors and the smell of leather and sweat swept over her, an
earthy aroma under the musty cellar smell. Suddenly, she could hear the mix of
voices, a chorus of conversation accented by harsh strikes of wood or leather
against skin and the sweet cries of ecstasy.
“Peter,” a man greeted
as he held out his hand. The man was tall, broad, and very intimidating. A
massive mountain of man, covered in tight, black leather like armor. Next to
her Peter—who was so sweet-looking, an alter-ego Dom hidden in Clark Kentish,
computer-nerd clothes—this man looked...a little frightening. “It’s been
awhile.”
“Yes,” Peter said,
taking the man’s hand in a friendly shake. “I’ve been a little busy,” he said,
nodding toward her. “Rand, I’d like to to meet Kat.”
“Kat, huh?” the
man asked, raising a curious eyebrow at her. He gave a decided, appreciative
nod toward her. Kat shrank under his assessing gaze. For a second, she wondered
if, maybe, Rand might be one of those men with a foreign fetish—those men who
treated Asian girls like collector’s items. But then he grinned cheekily.
“You’re first time in our little club?” he asked her, still looking her up and
down.
She nodded. “Is it
really that obvious?”
“You have that
look,” he said with a bit of a mocking grin. “Like your not sure if you should
bolt or jump right in.” His grin widened as she gave an acknowledged tilt of
her head. “Let’s go grab a drink.”
Peter tucked Kat’s
hand into the crook of his arm as he followed Rand through the throng of people
gathered around the foyer area. They grabbed three cans of soda from a table in
the back that held a tempting buffet of food and drink before making their way
to another room off to the side.
Kat sucked in a
deep breath as they entered the playspace.
She’d never played
anywhere except at Peter’s house, bent over or tied up to his bed or his couch
or a chair. Sometimes, if they were feeling daring, he’d take her outside in
his yard, using trees or ladders or even the tall fence shielding them from his
neighbors’ lawns.
She’d never seen
anything like the massive structures feng shuied around the large open room for
optimal usage and viewing. Even the ones she recognized—like the spanking bench
in the corner with a woman bent over the padded velvet or the bamboo,
ladder-like A-frame that had a man trussed to it—she’d never seen any of it up
close or in person. Even the massage table looked unfamiliar, covered in black
leather and studded with gleaming metal grommets with hooks and eyes.
Rand led them to a
set of open chairs near a large, metal suspension frame, the crisscrossed
scaffolding like an adult jungle gym, with a thin androgynous bottom held
contorted in the air by a spider’s web of knots. Kat watched as the top, a
woman whose face was tight in intense concentration, moved with dancer’s grace
around her bottom as she wove the rope around and through in intricately
deliberate patterns. It was beautiful. Like watching art in motion.
Kat bit her lip
and wondered what a scene like that would be like.
“Hey there,
handsome,” a sultry voice purred behind them. “How’s it hanging?”
Kat turned and
blinked at a gorgeous, African American pin-up girl dressed up in a two-piece
lingerie play at a Pan Am flight attendant. She was posed with her gloved,
long-fingered hands squeezing Rand’s shoulders. She tilted her head and flashed
a welcoming grin, her pill box hat cocked jauntily as she saluted him.
“With you here,
Pip?” Rand asked, squeezing her ample ass underneath her short skirt, causing
her to squeal and chuckle throatily. “Let’s just say that I’m in the full
upright position and ready for take off.”
The woman just
laughed harder, smacking him on the shoulder playfully with more confidence and
surety than Kat was sure she’d ever felt in her life. “You are so crude,” Pip
scolded with a shake of her head, her curly cloud of black hair bouncing about
playfully.
“You love it,” he
said, grabbing her around her thighs and pulling her close. “You going to play
tonight or are you just here to cock tease the room?”
Kat watched the
tall, leggy woman tip her head thoughtfully. Pursing her full, dark lips, Pip
hummed, tapping a long, manicured nail against her angled cheek. “I can find
the time, if you can,” she said with a smile.
Rand snorted and
smacked her butt. “All right, Pipsqueak,” he joked as she jumped. He jutted his
chin out toward the towering scaffolding. And the odd cross between a pommel
horse, a step stool, and headless rocking horse seated next to it.
Kat saw Pip straddle
the horse as Rand bent low to adjust the legs to her considerable height. Kat
squirmed as she watched Rand place her heeled feet on the horse’s thin, rocking
rests. Her gaze narrowed as Pip’s body jerked up just as it touched the row of
vicious-looking edges carved into the horse’s body that bit into her flesh
whenever she put weight on it. Kat stared as Pip tried to balance the now
rocking horse as it forced her body back and forth against those cutting
ridges, her wince half-way between a grimace and a smile.
Kat worried her
lip as Rand trussed up Pip’s arms, forcefully raising her body taut and high to
hang from a high bar on the frame. Cautiously, Kat scanned the room and saw
other people stopping to watch the scene as well. The couple who’d been playing
on the spanking bench, now sat curled up on the matted floor in a corner,
cuddling as they enjoyed the show.
The Dom still
working his sub over on the A-frame paused mid-strike as he heard Pip squeal at
Rand’s smack to the back of the horse, causing it to again sway uncomfortably
beneath her.
Even the couple
playing on the frame with them were watching, grinning as they watched Pip
squirm and sputter curses at Rand who just laughed and pushed or tugged at this
and that.
“Now that I have
you safely strapped in,” Rand chortled, “let’s see how you handle some
turbulence.”
“So funny, Captain
Jacka—”
Kat gasped as
Pip’s foot slipped off its narrow rest, causing her to drop hard onto the
horse. A loud, pain-filled yip escaped Pip’s lips as the ties on her arms
pulled and her thighs crashed down on ridges. Kat winced at the mix of
sympathetic moans and gleeful giggles aimed at Pip’s rocking, writhing, ranting
form.
Kat’s lips thinned
as she turned away. She didn’t think she could do that. Have a room full of
people watch her while she was so vulnerable and helpless. Have them all smirk
and laugh while she wrestled and panted, out of control and at the mercy of her
emotions and sensations. Her chest tightened and her face paled as she heard all
the twittering, expectant coos from the crowd when Rand pulled a long, harsh,
leather crop out of his bag.
“Now,” he said
with a menacing smirk, “sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight” He laughed. “If
you can.”
Kat stood up as
Rand pulled back his arm to strike the still struggling Pip, the room’s every
sound and breath jeering in her ear.
“Kat?” Peter
asked, touching her arm.
She shook her head
and pulled away. She had to leave. She couldn’t breathe in here.
“Kat?”
She turned to
leave.
“Kat!”
Ignoring his hiss,
she rushed through the rooms, pushing her way through the people and up the
spiraling stairs to get to the door. Shoving the heavy door open, she thrust
herself out into the dark night.
“Kat,” Peter
called as he stepped out the door after her. “Kat, what’s the matter? Where are
you going?”
Kat covered her
face as she kept her back to him. She shook her head. “I can’t do this,” she
whispered into her hands.
“What was that?”
he asked, coming close to place a hand at her waist.
“I can’t do this!”
she repeated as she whirled away from him.
He sighed and
shoved his hands into his pockets. “Aw, Kat.”
“I’m sorry,” she
groaned, “but I can’t do this. Can’t be...” She paused, waving her hand toward
the door. “That.” She wasn’t that girl. To do what they did in private, what
was so intimate and personal as that, in front of all those people? She shook
her head. “I can’t,” she murmured sadly. She wished that she could—could be the
kind of girl Peter wanted, the kind of girl he deserved—but she just couldn’t.
It just wasn’t in her. She just wasn’t strong enough. “I’m so sorry,” she
whispered.
They stood there
in the shadows of Donovan’s back lot, still and silent, for a long moment.
Kat’s shoulders slumped under the weight of her own disappointment. She’d
thought that she was ready. Thought that she’d come far enough to brave this.
Now she knew that
she hadn’t.
And she just
couldn’t see herself ever doing so.
God, that was just
so pathetic.
“Kat,” Peter said,
his voice low and thick, “look at me.”
She pressed her
face further in her hands. She couldn’t face him. She just couldn’t. Not now.
How could she ever face him again? Knowing that she was holding him back.
Knowing that she was denying him the life that he wanted. Because she wasn’t
strong enough, wasn’t experienced enough. Because she wasn’t enough.
“Kat,” he said,
the warning and demand clear in his voice.
She took a deep
breath before thrusting her hands back through her hair, pulling on the long
strands before peeking up at him. She winced at the hard expression on his
face.
“I asked you if
you were ready,” he reminded her softly, matter-of-factly, even as he crossed
his arms over his chest. “You said that you were.”
She bit her lips
and nodded. She’d thought she was.
“I told you that
we could leave,” he said. “That we could do this later, when you felt more
comfortable.” He leaned back, resting his weight on his heels. “You told me
that you wanted to come.”
“I’m sorry,” she
said again miserably as she looked away. “I just—”
He held up his
hand, cutting her off. “The offer still stands,” he interrupted. “I brought you
because this is what you said you wanted. If it’s not,” he said with a shrug,
“we’ll go.”
Kat turned back to
him with surprise. Really? Her brow furrowed.
He shook his head
as he stepped toward her. He touched her face, cupping her cheek as he brushed
his thumb across her skin. “I,” he paused, his jaw locking on the words they’d
both been avoiding for months now. “I care about you,” he settled on. “I care
about who you are and what you want.” He pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms. He cradled
her head against his chest. “I would give you anything you asked.” He kissed
the top of her head sweetly. “So ask.”
Kat pressed
herself close to him, breathing in the strong, woodsy scent of him, letting it
and his strong arms around her soothe her. She stared over his shoulder at the
door behind them. At the secrets it held. And the promises it offered.
That she could be
what he needed, what he wanted, what he deserved.
That, somewhere in
its depths, she could find a way to be his match.
“Come on,” he
said, holding her tighter, “let’s go home.”
Kat planted her
feet, holding them both in place as Peter tried to steer them toward the car.
“Kat?” he asked,
raising an eyebrow.
She bit her lip,
staring—really studying—him in the parking lot’s dim light. “Do you know what I
like best about you?” she asked him. Peter sighed and shook his head as he
stood back. “You know just how to push me—”
“I don’t want to
push you,” he insisted, shaking his head and frowning. “I should never have
taken you here.”
“Encourage me, then,” she amended. She licked her
lips nervously as she began to pace. “I get scared sometimes,” she admitted. “I
can,” she sighed, rolling her shoulders, “get overwhelmed or panic sometimes.
Over nothing, really.” She shrugged helplessly. “It’s just that I’ve been
hiding this,” she said, gesturing to herself, to the club, to him, “my
fantasies and desires, for so long. Facing them in front of other people, even
in front of you—and myself, for that matter—can be hard sometimes.”
“I know,” he said,
his voice rough. “And I am so proud of you. Always.”
Kat smiled,
letting his words settle over her frayed nerves. “Thank you,” she said, her
eyes beginning to water at little as her mouth wobbled. “You’ve been so patient
with me,” she said.
“You’re worth
waiting for,” he assured her as he stepped closer to her, stroking her arm.
“And I’m not going anywhere. We have time; I’m in no hurry.”
“And I think
that’s why I trust you so much,” she told him, placing a hand over his.
“Because, whatever I decide, you’re there for me. Supporting me. You challenge
me to do and try new things without ever making me feel like I have to. Without ever making me feel bad
for hesitating or doubting.” No, he would never do that; she did that
herself. She smiled and took his hand in hers. “It makes me want to do and try
all those things. You make me feel safe enough to want to.”
He brought their
joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of her hand. “What are you saying,
Kat?” he asked. “Tell me what you want.”
Say the words. Kat
inhaled deeply. “Wanna play?”
He grinned.
“Always, Katherina,” he said, his voice a sexy rumble. “What do you want?”
The words. “I want
to play,” she stated. “With you. Here. Now. I want to show everyone.”
“Show them what?”
he asked, squeezing her hand.
“Us,” she said
simply.
Read Part Two Here
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