Yeah, this story is untitled like all of my other ones until the very last-minute. I don’t know why I do it like that. I guess I focus more on the story and think of some catchy title later.
Anyway, as mentioned on the Facebook page, this is going to be a very short MFM/BDSM story featuring my two most popular (and only, come to think of it) Doms – “Saint” Nick D’Amato and Scott Reed. Yes, a D’Amato Brothers/S&M crossover.
Enough babbling…onto the unedited snippet:
She felt exhilarated.
Stepping inside the club and looking around, Krista Davis finally felt at home. As close to home as she could get.
The club was dark, but not so much where she couldn’t see anyone or anything. Blue, green, and purple lights faded in and out as the heavy air conditioning unit blew overhead. There was a dance floor filled with sweaty bodies, bumping and grinding against each other. The thumping bass line of a slow R&B track tickled her ears as sumbissives and their Masters paraded in front of her. Some were on leashes. Some were collared. Some stood idly beside their Masters as they engaged in conversation with other fellow Dominants.
Krista was instantly jealous. She briefly closed her eyes and let out another breath. She didn’t come this far to be jealous and blow her chance at finding a real Dom before it was presented to her. No, she needed patience.
A lot of it.
She blamed her obsession with romance novels and movies that contributed with all things BDSM. She would be a liar if she said she wasn’t just fascinated with the sex aspect but she knew there was more to it. The discipline. The surrender of everything she’d ever known about her willpower and spirit. The thought of having someone else cultivating her into a different person before her very eyes.
She’d searched far and wide for someone, going on numerous BDSM dating websites and even a few dates. No one could come close to what she wanted. Some wanted to have sex with her and Krista scoffed at the idea. If she wanted just a bed buddy, she had her pick of the litter in front of her in New York. Some men had no idea what it entailed in being a Dominant and she could tell they came from the whips and chains school of thought.
She knew what she wanted – someone to be her coach when needed, a shoulder to cry on when necessary, a sounding board when the opportunity presented itself. She needed someone to bring out the best in her and make her believe even if she couldn’t. Occasionally spanking her with a flogger and making her do unspeakable bedroom acts were just added bonuses.
One night out of boredom and maybe a bit too much wine, she came across a post on a BDSM lifestyle website talking about an event happening at the Dungeon that weekend. The Dungeon was a highly respected and well-known BDSM club that was owned by a mysterious woman named Sanora.
The post itself was about a certain event happening during that weekend, a medical demonstration by two Masters – Nick and Scott. Krista was about to bypass the thread until she saw the conversation about them from a variety of submissives.
“Can you believe both Master Scott and Saint Nick are going to be there? I’m climaxing just thinking about what they’re going to do to that lucky-ass bitch!”
“For Master Scott to be doing it, you know it’ll be hot. But with Saint Nick as well? OMFG.”
“I wonder if the poor girl is going to be able to walk when they’re done with her. My bets are that she won’t.”
Krista went from being a little interested to very curious to stalking her wardrobe and wondering if she needed to go buy a completely new ensemble for that weekend. She was going to see if “Saint Nick” and Master Scott were living up to the hype they had seemingly created in the throes of hungry submisssives on an online message board.
Or if they were full of shit – just like the countless other “Doms” she had encountered.