have happened. We’ve had Doms and subs meet at our club and fall in love. Not often, because there’s not much talking going on aside from limits and preferences. But still.”
She shrugs. “In any case, I’ve now got access to a makeup kit worth thousands, and I made almost two hundred and fifty bucks an hour. I’d say that’s a good day, and I’ll be able to save up for school in no time. The club is closed on Sundays, so you’ll have me all to yourself. And then on Monday, it won’t take as long, since there will be half as many girls. I think this is really going to be great,” she tells me, sounding more optimistic than I’ve ever heard her before.
Chapter 19
Astrid
The next afternoon, I sit across from Neil in a pair of high-waisted black leggings and a baby doll top. It’s the first item of clothing I’ve bought myself in years that wasn’t from a thrift store. Most of my clothes, I’ve had since high school. Yes, I might’ve gotten this from Walmart this morning when I went to pick up stuff to make dinner tonight while Neil did some paperwork for Imperium, but it wasn’t off the clearance rack, and it was truly super cute, and I felt the need to treat myself after earning my first big paycheck. It’s sky-blue with spaghetti straps and flowy around the stomach, and it flares out when I spin around, so I made sure to go braless. After all, we aren’t leaving the house. My session is in the study, and nothing bad ever comes from Neil getting a flash of underboob.
He’s dressed in a black button-up that looks absolutely sinful stretched across his hard, wide pecs with his laser-blue eyes. His gray slacks accentuate his tree-trunk thighs and his trim hips. I swear he could be on one of my romance novels, the hot naughty therapist who fucks his sub on his office couch.
“What’s that look, goddess?” he asks, pulling me out of my fantasy.
My cheeks are aflame, and I press my palm flat to my face. “Um… just imagining you as some book hero. You really could give all those models a run for their money, Viking.” I think for a moment, letting the idea grow. “Would it be weird to roleplay as therapist and patient, just like… bend me over right… about… here,” I taunt, rubbing the leather on the arm of the couch. The only thing that moves are his eyes, to drop to where my hand strokes the padded arm before lifting back to mine. “Or maybe we could do it at Club Alias where there’s all sorts of things you could introduce me to. One of those private rooms must have a couch, right?”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve mentioned being interested in going to the club, Astrid. In order to do that, you’d have to become a full-fledged member. That’s one rule the guys and I do not break for our women. Even your sister had to go through the sessions,” he reminds me.
I pout, my hand dropping noisily to the cushion from the arm of the couch. “But I’m fine. You know me. We’ve had sex like… I don’t know. I lost count when we did it like three times that one night. And I haven’t freaked out or been ‘triggered’ or anything,” I argue, highlighting with finger quotes one of the words he uses when he’s using his shrinky voice.
“While we’ve made love, goddess—vanilla sex—and you did a very good job at the restaurant last night following orders when I demanded, we haven’t yet introduced you to punishment or a D/s scene. Also, even if you and I were to take it easy in that aspect if we were to go to Club Alias, that doesn’t mean that you wouldn’t be exposed to it by other people. You don’t think I have an inkling of exactly what tool caused those scars across your buttocks and the back of your thighs? What’s going to happen when you pass by a sub getting whipped or flogged while tied to the public St. Andrew’s cross?” he asks, and I swallow thickly at the mental image. “You could have a flashback, be triggered, and have a full-on panic attack right then and there. That’s why, if you really want to entertain the idea of becoming a member, then we need to take these sessions seriously.”