An Expert in Domination
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Loose Id Titles by Sindra van Yssel
Sindra van Yssel
Bondage Ranch 7:
AN EXPERT IN DOMINATION
Sindra van Yssel
www.loose-id.com
Bondage Ranch 7: An Expert in Domination
Copyright © July 2015 by Sindra van Yssel
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Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
eISBN 9781623009472
Editor: Jana Armstrong
Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde
Published in the United States of America
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San Francisco CA 94117-0549
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This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning
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Chapter One
Sophia Walker had met Remy—she didn’t know his last name—around a bonfire, and she already knew that he was not the man for her. But he was fun, crazy, and had a nice body. He called himself a primal, which resonated with her. He was an animal when he made love, and there was no pretense. She liked it, even though it was just a fling. When he’d told her about the bonfire at Bondage Ranch and invited her to come along, she thought it sounded fun, even if whips and chains had her only mildly curious. What the hell. You only live once. She wanted to experience new things. He’d made it clear he intended to play the field, and that he had lovers there. She’d made it clear that going along didn’t mean she intended to have sex with him there. Or probably with anyone else. All she intended to do was watch, do some camping, and maybe take off a few clothes and dance around the bonfire if she felt comfortable enough.
She hoped it would be immersive. She had two children at home, and while she loved them dearly, time away now and then refreshed and invigorated her, and the more “adult” the fun she had, the better she was at being Mom when she got back. Jack and Lana were having a blast at their grandparents, so she knew she didn’t have to worry about them. Nana and Papa would take good care of her precious children. Right now, her job was to relax, have fun, and get home safe.
They got there, set up tents—one each—and helped get the fire going. There are a lot of good-looking guys here, thought Sophia. And a few plain ones too. She spent some time idly admiring a particularly attractive shirtless man with a well-defined chest and six-pack abs. Then a woman sidled up to him, and he put his arm around her. She was a big girl, all curves and no lines, and she didn’t wear a top or even a bra. The way he held her and kissed her spoke of a deep connection. Sophia smiled. She knew she was no size-8 beauty herself, but watching the couple made her feel all sizes and shapes were welcome. Yes, some clothes might come off this weekend. And that will be freeing. Hopefully I’ll meet some interesting people and get some hugs too, but whatever happens, it will be different.
A drop fell on her shoulder. She looked up and saw the sky blackening.
A tall bare-chested man with a dragon tattoo on his shoulder, who Remy called Dane, seemed to be organizing. Dane surveyed the sky. “Looks like we’re in for it.”
The slender woman with him, who wore a leather skirt and a corset, said, “Maybe we should go inside?”
“A little rain won’t hurt us, Sue,” said Dane.
“Yes, Sir,” Sue replied, but she looked a little chagrined.
Dane swatted her. “Go get inside the tent, and you’ll be my warmth once we have things going here.”
Sue scampered, and Sophia went back to work. It was a race to see if they could get a fire going so strong that the rain wouldn’t put it out. The rain started coming down heavily, soaking her yellow shirt and the thin skirt she wore, making the latter cling to her legs and turn almost transparent. That didn’t bother her any more than taking a shower would. It felt good to be out in nature. Besides, a little water never hurt anyone. She’d had some great times while soaked. Hell, she wasn’t sure she’d have attracted her first boyfriend if it hadn’t been for a wet T-shirt. It had been a good relationship for a while. It just hadn’t lasted.
A big, dark-skinned man came running down the path, looking just as soaked as everyone else. Dane stood to meet him. They had a moment’s conversation, and Dane nodded as he listened. Then he walked over to where the flames licked up from the pile of tinder and signaled for everyone to come close. A score of men and women gathered around him.
“We’ve got to put it out and get out of here. Head inside or go into town. I’m sorry, everyone, but I can’t control the weather.”
“It’s just a little rain,” said one man.
It was hardly a little, and it was getting worse, but other than that, he echoed what Sophia was thinking. For a bunch of people who supposedly liked extreme sex, she was surprised they’d give up so easily.
Dane shook his head. “It is now. But there’s lightning coming. There. Hear that?”
Sophia could hear it. It was distant, a low rumble. She hadn’t seen a flash of light.
“It’s not safe to be out. Sorry, everyone. I’m going to get my girl and drag her out into the rain to get her to safety. The lightning’s still a few miles away, but Diego says the weather report has it moving fast. We’ve got a half hour to douse the fire and get to shelter. If you aren’t a runner, go now.”
Remy moved toward her. He’d been flirting with a topless blonde, and Sophia hadn’t seen much of him. “Go ahead, Soph,” he said, in his soft Louisiana accent. He pointed down a path. “The building is straight that way.”
“All right.” She didn’t like being called Soph, but whatever. I can run. But I certainly don’t want to try it now without a good sports bra.
She wasn’t sure what she’d do exactly. She hadn’t come for the kinky aspects of Bondage Ranch. She was here for the fire, the warmth, the feeling that her own body was okay with or without clothes. The kink was mildly interesting but nothing to travel for. As she understood it, that was the reason most of the people who stayed in the building were there. I might be better off heading into town. And besides, I look like a drowned
rat. Her shirt clung indecently to her now, and while she suspected no one had a problem with that, it wasn’t how she wanted to make a first impression, even on people she’d never see again.
She took the path to the parking lot instead of to the building. The rain reduced visibility, which gave her a thought. She had dry clothes in her car, and she could change. And she had an umbrella too. Maybe seeing what the people inside were doing wouldn’t be so bad. And besides, there was a rumbling in her tummy that reminded her she had been working hard and hadn’t eaten that much. Remy had said there were sometimes incredibly good pastries in the dungeon.
I’ll have to give that a try. She never liked backing away from a new experience. Or good pastries.
She got into the backseat of her SUV and peeled off the wet clothes. She put on a red bra and panties, then picked out a long flowered skirt and an orange T-shirt that dipped low in the middle. After she’d gotten everything on, she looked down her cleavage critically. The bra and the shirt clashed a bit, but not too much of the bra was showing. She shrugged. It’s better than the all-wet look. And I like it. She liked cheerful, bright colors, and she was used to being told she clashed. She sometimes wondered if she had no color sense, but despite the occasional criticism, people often told her how bright she looked, so maybe people here would enjoy her sense of style amid all the black leather. Since anything she had was just going to get soaked anyway, she didn’t bother with shoes. Bare feet at least washed off easily.
She half opened her umbrella, pushed the car door open, and then opened the umbrella the rest of the way. As hard as it was raining, she wasn’t sure it was going to protect her, but it was better than nothing.
She ran across the parking lot to where the front awning provided some shelter. There were a couple of people there—a woman with hennaed hair and a black leather outfit that screamed dominatrix was smoking, and a man in leather pants and no shirt was chatting with her. Sophia didn’t care for the smoke, but she wanted to wipe her feet off before she went inside, and there was a mat there for the purpose.
“Hi there, cutie,” said the woman. “Haven’t seen you here before. I’m Valerie.” She stuck out a hand.
“Hello. Sophia.” Sophia shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Maybe.
“Here to see Colby Brock?”
“Who is Colby Brock?” She’d heard the name mentioned at the bonfire as well.
Valerie’s eyes widened. “You don’t know who Colby Brock is?”
“No.”
“Oh, honey. He’s written four books on how to do BDSM. He’s even been on TV talk shows, and he used to write an advice column. Dylan and Alex flew him in all the way from the West Coast to give some demonstrations. They were going to be outside on the stage, but they’ve had to move them in because of the weather.”
So, a hotshot. Probably thinks he’s all that too. “Ah. Thanks for the info,” said Sophia.
“No problem.”
She walked in and looked around.
One man stood on a stage that had been erected in the middle of the room. He was older than Sophia and most of the people there, his dark hair marked by a streak of gray around the temples. That must be Colby Brock. He wore black leather pants that had seen a lot of use and a matching vest. His thick boots needed a shine. Definitely not my type. But she was still curious, because she’d never seen anyone quite like him before. There was a grace in him as he stood on the makeshift stage in the middle of the room, flicking his single-tail whip casually toward a black post, missing it by less than an inch each time. And the arms revealed by the vest were muscled and strong. He reminded her of some gay leather porn she’d seen once, and she wondered if he liked girls at all. She found herself undressing him in her mind.
Around the stage, all sorts of people gathered in all sorts of clothes. But leather predominated, along with lots of skin. A few women were in their underwear. One was dressed only in rope. There were some very good-looking men in the room, and almost without exception, they had a woman intimately near them—kneeling, on a lap, or standing so close as to be almost touching.
Don’t want any of them anyway. She’d been to a BDSM club once. Her impression was that the indoor leather crowd tended to make everything cold. S&M was just sensation to them, and it wasn’t spiritual. They didn’t want to connect with their inside animal selves the way Sophia did. The latex, the vinyl, even the leather was there to heighten the sense that everything was artificial—a scene, and not reality.
The furniture too. It was pushed to the side, but it was much the same as she’d seen the one time she’d been in a club. Crosses, tables with rings, frames for tying people to, a sex swing.
Remy came up behind her. “Here to gawk at the show?”
She looked back to give him a kiss on the cheek, and then resumed her inspection of the room. Dylan Allison, dressed in something from another century, in this case a long velvet tailcoat, breeches, and a ruffled shirt, was helping his wife, Alex, into a chair. Sophia had met them at registration, and they seemed like good people. Alex looked like she’d injured her ankle from the way she was leaning on him, and she didn’t look at all happy.
Another man went over to help, and the woman with him, who wore a white collar around her neck, pitched in as well. Dylan stepped away reluctantly, and with one wistful backward look at Alex, he headed for the stage.
The two men consulted together in low tones. An interesting picture, thought Sophia—the leatherman and the fop. Miles apart in so many ways, but the same in a way too. Dylan’s garb said even more clearly than Colby’s that the play was the thing—how one looked and not who one was inside. There was respect between them, though. In the end, Colby shrugged and nodded. Dylan turned to face the crowd—well, some of the crowd, as it wasn’t really clear what part of the stage was front. He affixed a small microphone to his lapel, fiddled with it, and then gestured for silence.
“As some of you know, Colby Brock is here from California to show us a few things. My wife, Alex, was going to be Colby’s demo bottom for today’s impact play demonstration, but she was injured setting up the stage. I’ve asked a few of our more experienced submissives if they’d like to fill in, but I haven’t found anyone yet. So I’m looking for a volunteer. This is a scene that might leave some marks, and there’s definitely some pain involved, but Colby is very skillful with his tools. There might not be a safer person in the whole country to do this kind of play with. Anyone? Man or woman, doesn’t matter.”
Colby stepped forward and scanned the crowd like a wolf deciding which sheep to eat. It made Sophia shiver. She looked around, curious as to what brave soul was going to volunteer, when she felt Remy’s hand pushing on her elbow. The next thing she knew, her hand was in the air and Colby was staring straight at her.
“Ginger, maybe you’d—” Dylan began, looking over at a redhead who had put her hand up.
Colby stepped in front of Dylan and pointed straight at Sophia. “That one,” he said.
“I didn’t—” Sophia started and turned to glare at Remy for pushing her hand up. Dylan, meanwhile, stood back and shrugged at Colby. He said something quiet to him. Maybe it was warning Colby off the newbie.
“You looked out of place with all those clothes on,” Remy said softly. “And hey. New things.”
“Unless,” Colby said, “you don’t want to.”
Unless you’re afraid. That might not have been what he said or meant, but that was what it came down to, wasn’t it? Sophia was afraid. But she was even more scared of admitting her fear in public. Remy gave her a gentle push. She took the next step forward on her own. People made way for her. By the time she got to the stage, she bounded up the steps with a jaunty, carefree attitude as if the single tail were ice cream and she could hardly wait. Colby coiled the whip while she mounted the stage.
I think I’ve got them fooled.
Colby had an amused look on his face.
I’m not sure I have him fooled. But why did he want me?
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Colby stuck out his hand. “Hi. I’m Colby. What’s your name, beautiful?” It was odd hearing him directly and hearing him from the speakers at the same time. She spotted a little lapel microphone on his vest.
“Sophia.” She shook his hand. He had a good firm grip. Did he practice that like he obviously practiced his whip?
“Good to meet you, Sophia. Have you ever been struck by a single tail before?” He handed her the coiled whip, and she took it from his hand, not sure what she was supposed to do with it. Surely he wasn’t expecting her to swing it.
“No.”
“Cane?”
“No.”
“Riding crop?”
“Never.”
“Flogger?”
She shook her head. Was he going to shoo her off the stage? It would be a welcome relief in a way, although her curiosity would go unsatisfied. At times, she had enjoyed pain with sex. She liked the energy of her lover scraping their nails across her back or even striking her with an object. She saw it as the natural human desire to fight, and struggle turned into lovemaking. But she didn’t get off on pain as much as the ferocity and the energy that could cause it. And pain without sex? She wasn’t sure she saw the point.
“Any objection to stripping down for this?”
“No.” So much for a reprieve. She had no desire to be naked in front of everyone, but as a matter of principle, she refused to be ashamed of her body.
“Good. Take your shirt off. Your bra too, if you’re comfortable.” Colby turned and looked around at everyone. “So we’re going to veer off into some different territory today. Because I’m not just going to demonstrate the use of some toys. I’m also going to teach Sophia a few things about how to process pain. Maybe she already knows. Some people come to it naturally without even realizing what they are doing. But since she hasn’t done much heavy pain play, she’ll be good for demonstrating this.”
Sophia lifted her top, and then glanced around. She was used to being naked outside, among other naked people. Today, though, most people were wearing at least some clothing, and inside in front of an audience was a different thing. People came to see Colby, but they’d be looking at her. She had a few extra pounds she wasn’t happy with. Ginger would have been a better choice. Had Colby picked her because he’d detected her inexperience somehow? She’d had lovers who’d bit or scratched. By comparison, the whip seemed cold, distant, and impersonal. Even a cane or a flogger allowed the top to be close enough to touch the bottom, but the single tail forced the wielder far away from his target. The presence of the long whip in his hand made her nervous.