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In His Cuffs

By:Sierra Cartwright
In His Cuffs
Sierra Cartwright

       Chapter One





Finally.

She'd made it.

Maggie smoothed the front of her short leather skirt and followed her friend Vanessa through the front door of the Den.

Music blasted from the back patio and the bass seemed to shake the  walls. Half-naked people-men, mostly-were everywhere, and cool air  whispered in through open windows.

Gregorio, the Den's caretaker, met them in the foyer.

"Welcome to Ladies' Night," he said. His eyes were dark, and the wink of a silver earring made him resemble a pirate.

"I'm here for the debauchery," Maggie said.

"You've come to the right place," he assured her with a grin.

She'd been looking forward to this outing for over a month. Not only had  she spent her lunch hours shopping online for a new outfit and killer  shoes, but she'd also purchased a sparkly collar. Every day at five  o'clock, she happily slashed through the date on her calendar. The fat,  red mark served a dual purpose. It served as a reward for surviving  another workday with the insufferable David Tomlinson, and it was a  visual reminder that she was closer to a night at the Den, where she  would satisfy her deepest cravings.

"Are you planning to scene tonight, Maggie?" Gregorio asked.

She nodded.

"Sex?"

"I won't say no," she said.

"Condoms are provided in all the private rooms. House Monitors also have  them. I take it you want to participate as a sub, not a Domme?"

"That's correct." She wondered how he managed to keep up with the  particulars of each guest. But then, that was why he ran the place.

"Are you looking to play with a man or a woman?"

"Strictly het," she said.

Several different coloured wristbands lay on a nearby table. Gregorio selected a white one and affixed it to her wrist.

"Switches are in yellow," he continued.

"That's the one I want," Vanessa chimed in.

"Seriously?" Maggie asked.

Vanessa shrugged. "You never know what opportunities might present themselves."

"As always, Dominants have red bands," Gregorio said.

"Got it." Maggie was anxious to start the festivities. She'd been here  often enough that she could take Gregorio's place at the door. But she  also knew he wouldn't hurry through the ritual, despite her impatience.

"House Monitors have black bands around their upper arms. House subs  have purple ones. Be sure to let someone know if you need help. The  Den's safe word is ‘halt', use it at any time. Enjoy yourselves."

"I will, for sure," Vanessa said.

Brandy, a woman Maggie knew as a house sub, took their jackets and purses.

Any night here was fabulous, but four times a year, Master Damien and  Gregorio went all out for the house's single ladies, providing  entertainment, demonstrations, Doms and Dommes, exotic non-alcoholic  beverages and the most mouthwatering desserts imaginable. She'd been  saving up her calories for over a week with the intention of indulging  in all her favourite things. Not that it mattered, really. If she had  her way, she'd burn plenty of energy during a BDSM scene or two.

To her, an orgasm was the best of all stress-relievers. And a dozen would make her forget the crappy hell her life had become.

With luck, it would take less than half an hour to find someone to take her to the downstairs dungeon.

She and Vanessa made their way towards the kitchen and looked out of the  patio doors. A fire burned in a pit. People in all sorts of outfits,  from street clothes to club wear, milled about. A stage had been set up  near the back of the paved area where rocker Evan C all but made love to  the microphone.

"I'll have a double shot of that deliciousness," Vanessa said against Maggie's ear.

"Evan C?" The musician oozed sex appeal. Tonight he wore an unbuttoned  black shirt, and, as always, his trademark white scarf was wrapped  around his neck. A recent video of him had gone viral, thanks to a  publicity stunt by one of the Den's members. So now Evan C was giving  women all over the world heart palpitations.

"I'd let him put his scarf over my headboard," Vanessa said. "But no, I  mean the guy standing to the right of the stage. I think he has on a  black band."

Since the party attracted so many newbies, Master Damien brought in  extra House Monitors-male and female-to ensure everyone's safety, answer  questions and even participate in scenes. "I don't know who you're  talking about." Her platform shoes added much-needed inches, but that  didn't help her see through the crowd any better.

"The man over there." Vanessa pointed. "Near the speaker. Short dark hair. Jeans. No shirt. Can you see him yet?"                       
       
           



       

"No."

"Wait. I think that's a pair of handcuffs on his belt loop. Damn."

Maggie craned her head.

"Do you need me to lift you up?"

She glared at Vanessa. Vanessa was five inches taller than Maggie and never missed an opportunity to point that out.

"Would you care for a chocolate-covered strawberry?" a server enquired, distracting them.

"Oh, God, yes," Maggie said.

Vanessa and Maggie both turned away from the huge glass windows and  towards the hot man standing near them. He was over six feet tall, with  long hair she itched to run her fingers through.

She took her time selecting a treat from the silver serving platter. If  nothing else, she enjoyed keeping him next to her for an extra few  seconds. Not only did he smell of expensive, spicy cologne, but he had  on a bow tie and remarkable, shimmery gold pants. His chest was devoid  of hair, and his skin glistened as if oiled. Master Damien definitely  knew how to please his guests.

She chose a strawberry with the most chocolate coating, while Vanessa,  in typical fashion, dived in after the biggest piece of fruit.

Where Maggie was deliberate, Vanessa seized every opportunity that came  along. The fact they were so different had made the friendship all sorts  of interesting over the last eight years. Maggie nibbled at her dessert  while Vanessa bit hers in half.

"Another, ladies?" the man offered.

"Could you leave the tray?" Vanessa asked.

"Don't you dare," Maggie countered.

Vanessa picked up two more berries, but Maggie shook her head. The man winked at Maggie before moving off.

"The sexy man I was looking at earlier is gone. You never saw him, did you?"

"Not like it's a loss. There's plenty of them here."

"True enough. But I like handcuffs. So do you, right?"

Maggie nodded. She loved any kind of restraint.

"So, have you seen anyone you're interested in?" Vanessa asked.

After she'd eaten her strawberry, Maggie surveyed the crowd in the  kitchen and great room. "I wouldn't mind sceneing with the HM I played  with last time, if he's here. He knew his way around my body without a  map." The man had flogged her good then sank to his knees and licked her  pussy until she couldn't come anymore. "How about you?"

"I'm greedy. I want two men."

"Two?" Maggie hadn't considered trying a ménage, but now …

"It is Ladies' Night," Vanessa pointed out.

"So it is."

The music trailed off and enthusiastic applause followed. She wiped her hands on a paper cocktail napkin then joined in.

A few seconds later, Evan C introduced his next song-the single that was  accelerating up the charts-then nodded to his band who cranked up the  sound.

"Got your kink on?" Vanessa asked.

"Almost." Nerves assailed her, a heady combination of adrenaline and expectation.

They made plans to meet up later at their hotel room in Winter Park.  Master Damien had thoughtfully provided a shuttle between the Den and  several stops in the nearby tourist town. "If you go home with anyone,  send me a text," Maggie said.

"Same for you."

"Yeah. As if."

"Hey, you could shock the world and do something totally out of character."

Maggie rolled her eyes. Ever since her breakup with Samuel, she'd been  in a sexual drought. Then again, it had been all but barren while they  were together. He'd tried, at least at first. But after several months,  he'd got angry with her.

During one of their arguments, he'd shouted that she was insatiable.  That wasn't true. She would have been fine if he'd ever tied her to the  bed and used her vibrator on her. A spanking once a week would have  satisfied her needs. Well … at least she thought it would have. If it was  hard enough, the after-effects would remind her of the pain, then the  anticipation would have carried her through the remaining days.

Then again, perhaps the more she got, the more she'd want.

But she might not ever know.

She'd never had a relationship that had made it past six months. If she  found a man who was demanding in the bedroom, he tended to be an  arrogant son of a bitch outside it. If he was considerate about sharing  chores, he tended to bore her once the lights were turned down. And two  men had insisted it wasn't right to hit a woman. More than once she'd  tried to explain the difference between a consensual spanking and  striking out in anger. Her words had fallen on deaf ears.