The Complete Secrets Series Read online

  “I’m Marcus, by the way. Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

  “Pe-Penny,” I stuttered, almost breathlessly as I sensed my blush intensifying. I really needed to get it together. I’d never blushed this much before in my life. I needed the confidence I showed the world, even as unreal as it happened to be. Fake it ’til you make it was my mantra.

  Marcus leaned closer as he stepped slightly inside my personal space, his mint-scented breath rasping along my ear, “What brings you out to play with us today?” Subconsciously standing a little taller, I began gaining the confidence I typically displayed as a nurse working with chauvinistic surgeons. I told him about my interest in learning more about BDSM and the lifestyle. I wanted to find a neutral place to meet people and gain, if not friends, then at least acquaintances, and definitely knowledge.

  “Knowledge about what?” Marcus asked, showing true interest. I wanted to know everything. I wanted to know the sensation of giving up control, how to please someone and be pleased in return. I wanted to be dominated, to discover why I couldn’t find someone who wanted that happily ever after with me that I constantly read about. Sadly, I didn’t know how to express any of this.

  My shoulders shrugged as I settled on, “Whatever someone will teach me.”

  “Sweetness,” he cooed, “I’d be happy to teach you anything you want to know. Let me introduce you to some friends of mine.” With a hand brushing across my lower back, startling me with the sparks of electricity that flowed through my extremities, Marcus led me over to a group of women. Marcus made introductions and left me to mingle. I noticed he never strayed far, and several times, our eyes met over someone’s shoulder. The smoldering glances he gave me sent heat burning throughout my body. My nipples pebbled like berries, and I felt myself getting wet the longer he kept staring at me. It wasn’t often that a man scrutinized me the way Marcus did. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time that even happened. I felt naked and exposed under his gaze, as though my barriers were being broke down. It was disconcerting to say the least.

  I did very little talking among the women and spent most of the time listening. I met Delilah, her skin inked with a beautiful scalloped tattoo across her chest that travelled up her collarbones and around the back of her neck. She explained that both the tattoo and the gold choker collar she wore signified her Master’s ownership. I didn’t understand their Master/slave dynamic, but she seemed happy. I also met Priscilla, or Priss, a submissive who missed her Dom as he recovered in the hospital after a heart attack. Then came Jackie, a transgender woman who’d recently gone through transition surgery, and finally Bridget. Bridget and I were close in age, maybe five years difference. Bridget was submissive and in between Doms. She was someone whose brain I wanted to pick. I also imagined we might become great friends one day. No sooner were we about to delve deeper into our conversation, than a tingle of awareness rushed through me, and a sweltering heat burned against my back.

  “Have you discovered any deep, dark secrets yet?” Marcus asked.

  “Yours or mine?” I quipped as I slowly turned to face him.

  Marcus stepped closer and closer forcing me backward until I was flush with the wall behind me. Chest to breast, his thigh worked its way between my legs to press against my pussy. His erection grew against my abdomen and with his finger tracing my lips, he rasped, “Why, yours, of course. I’m curious to know what depraved secrets you keep buried that you wish someone like me would discover. In fact, I think I would enjoy that immensely. Discovering your secrets, that is. I’d love to see you spread out before me, your hands bound above your head, writhing as I feast on your sweet, succulent cunt. You have this plump ass that I want to devour while I mark you as mine. You’d remember my handprint for days. I want to hear you scream my name as I fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked before. You’ll come over and over again.”

  I whimpered and felt myself almost undulating against Marcus’ thigh as he rocked against my clit. I didn’t even care that there were people around. I wanted everything he described. The huskiness of his voice nearly brought me to my knees at his feet in supplication. Every other intimate encounter before today missed this. It terrified me.

  Even still, my arousal increased at his words. I didn’t even know this man, but I had a feeling that if, given the chance, he’d discover all my secrets. Overwhelmed by his attention, I made my excuses and raced home, knowing I’d replay his words.

  Penny

  Throughout the next week, I kept myself busy at work. By the time Friday rolled around, exhaustion permeated my bones. Excitement had me keyed up for the night. Bridget had told me about another vanilla event at a local billiards club this weekend, and I immediately put it on my calendar. I had done nothing except think of Marcus over the last week. I’d even pulled out my vibrator twice and got myself off picturing him doing all the dirty things he had described to me before I rushed off like a coward. My pussy became wet thinking about it.

  Glad I only worked a half-day on Fridays, I arrived home early and gave myself time to shave, pluck, and groom before heading out for the night. I even went clothes shopping one night during the week, trying to find that perfect outfit that screamed sexy, not slutty. I ended up with a cute purple, one-shouldered dress that fell mid thigh, hugged my curves, and disguised my belly roll. I added silver peep toe pumps that were more comfortable than they appeared. I completed my look with light makeup and my hair down in soft curls that skimmed my breasts. I dabbed my favorite perfume between my breasts and behind my ears before I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

  I entered the pool hall and instantly started scanning faces, hoping to see the green eyes that had mesmerized me the previous week. It took me less than two minutes before I zeroed in on Marcus. He lounged against the opposite wall talking to three other men. He wore a white button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing his muscled forearms, which had me drooling, a pair of dark wash blue jeans that cupped his ass perfectly, and a pair of black lace up, wingtip Oxfords.

  He must have sensed my eyes on him, because he slowly turned his head and stared right at me. Immediately, a throbbing began between my legs, and my nipples hardened as our gazes connected. I almost couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away. I spotted Bridget during my perusal of the room, and shaking my head slightly to break the connection with Marcus, I made my way over to her. I wasn’t intentionally playing hard to get. Sudden shyness overcame me, and I wanted to avoid embarrassing myself further by not gawking any longer than I already had.

  “Hey Bridget, remember me? Penny, from the potluck last week.”

  “Oh my God, of course I remember you. I’m so glad you decided to come,” Bridget squealed, grabbed my hands, and pulled me in for a hug. “I wondered if you’d have the guts to show up, especially after all the attention Master Marcus gave you last weekend. When he backed you up against the wall, the fiercest expression crossed his face, and I wanted so badly to know what he said to you. I thought you were going to come right then and there.”

  I remembered the feel of him, the rough texture of his finger as he caressed my lip, the woodsy smell of his cologne, and a certain scent that represented Marcus. Even after only spending thirty minutes with the man, I think I’d recognize his specific scent anywhere. Permanently etched on my brain, it would never go away.

  “What do you know about him?” I wondered.

  “No way,” Bridget scolded. “I’m not spilling anything until you tell me what he said to you to make you rush off in such a hurry you barely even said goodbye.”

  I thought back to last week’s conversation between Marcus and me. The arousal that rushed through me then threatened to overcome me again. I came back to the present, and, with a heavy sigh, responded to the question left hanging in the air. “He described in explicit detail all the things he wanted to do to me. I freaked and ran. End of story.”

  “For the love of all things holy, why would you run from Master Ma
rcus? Do you even realize the number of subs who would kill to be in your place, me included? If that man even glanced at me sideways, I’d be bent over the nearest spanking bench waiting for him to punish me. I’ve watched him scene with some of the other subs at the club, and what I wouldn’t give to be the object of his desire,” Bridget practically screamed at me.

  “He’s too intense. I don’t think we’d suit at all. Besides, I’m not looking to start a relationship with a Dom yet. I mean, I haven’t even figured out what it is I am or what I want. I’m more of an observer. A wallflower, if you will. I’m not one to close my eyes, jump into the deep end, and reap the consequences of what I sowed later. I dwell and analyze shit and over think everything,” I replied. I tried to get her to understand that I needed more time to learn about submission and how I fit into this new world that had now opened up for me to explore.

  “Well don’t look now, but I think Master Marcus is about to help you get your feet, and maybe other more important things, wet,” Bridget warned. I didn’t need the warning Bridget gave me. I’d sensed his eyes on me from almost the moment I walked in the door. The minute he stepped within ten feet of me, the air essentially froze, as though everyone else disappeared, leaving no one except the two of us.

  “Hello, Sweetness.”

  I kept my expression as blank as possible before I turned to face the man who’d been haunting my dreams all week. Bridget, that traitor, scurried away, leaving me with Marcus.

  “Hi,” came my lame response. Immediately, the sexual attraction between us ratcheted up a few degrees, causing my heart to race. My eyes didn’t leave his. I don’t know why I fought the attraction. Unbelievably, after only one meeting I knew, inevitably, I’d break. Marcus made me feel things with only a glance. Things I’d only dreamed about.

  “After your disappearing act last week I wondered if I’d ever see you again,” Marcus questioned as he casually leaned up against the bar next to me. The muscles in his forearm flexed, as if resisting the urge to reach out and touch me. “I’d have been extremely disappointed if I’d missed you tonight. Did you masturbate while thinking of me this week?”

  “Yes,” I said, unable to lie to him. I licked my dry lips, unintentionally bringing his attention to my mouth before he made eye contact again. “That doesn’t mean I’m ready to make it a reality. I just met you and this, whatever it is, is moving too fast. You’re intense, and you come on too strong. You don’t give me any time to think. To be honest, you make me a little nervous. I’m not ready for you or whatever it is you’re offering. I am only now beginning to explore submission and trying to find out what and who I am.” Throughout my entire speech, I kept wondering what thoughts were running through his mind. His face remained impassive and unreadable. He was an enigma, a puzzle I didn’t think I was ready to solve.

  “I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say since we met. Here’s the deal, and I want you to listen very closely to what I’m about to say. I’m a Dominant, and I am intense and will come on strong, because I know that is what you need even if you don’t. I’ve lived in the lifestyle long enough to know that you are submissive to the bone. I make you nervous because I make you feel things you haven’t felt before. The more time you have to think, the less time you spend feeling, which is what you should be doing. Feeling the wet heat of my mouth suckling your bountiful tits. Feeling the pounding of my cock deep in that beautiful pussy of yours. Feeling the heat build from your core and spread throughout your body until it bursts in the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had. This is what you want and need, even if you don’t know how to ask for it. That’s my job as a Dom. To give you everything you didn’t even know you needed.”

  Almost before he had even finished speaking, he closed the distance between us, took hold of my head with both hands on either side of my face and lowered his lips to mine. His tongue demanded entrance, and on a gasp, I opened my mouth to his assault. Flavors burst on my tongue, including the whiskey he must have been drinking. His scent and now his taste were etched on my brain. He tasted like no other man I’d kissed before. As quickly as the kiss began, it ended.

  “I want you and you want me. I will take things only as slow as I think you need them to go. The most important part of any D/s relationship is communication, no matter if it’s a relationship that lasts for one scene or one that lasts beyond that. Communication is key. That is what contracts, agreements, and safe words are for. You’ll need a safe word; something you won’t forget in the heat of the moment. I won’t always know what you are feeling. It’s up to you to tell me. The minute you say your safe word, whatever is happening stops. It may only stop until we’ve discussed what’s happening and make adjustments, or it may stop the scene entirely if we can’t come to a safe resolution that we both agree upon. You came here looking to learn the secrets of submission. I plan to show you all of them.”

  Penny

  After Marcus’ declaration and our brief, heated kiss, he left the pool hall while I stayed to talk to Bridget and some of the other subs. Mostly so I didn’t go home to an empty house and dwell on or overthink everything he had said. Before I left, Bridget pulled me aside and asked for my phone. Without thought, I handed it to her. After several keystrokes she handed it back to me telling me that she had put her phone number in my contact list in addition to Marcus’ “per his command”.

  The next day, I sat on my couch reading, barely concentrating, while casting occasional glances at my phone debating whether or not I should call him. I had never been that girl. The bold one who called a guy she liked. The one who took the initiative and went after what she wanted. I don’t know how, but in some way the two interactions with Marcus were meaningful. The longer I sat there, the more the urge increased to take life by the figurative balls. I needed to stop being the wallflower, the girl on the sidelines watching every one else find their dance partner. The time came to be that bold woman who went after what she wanted, even if she didn’t know entirely what that entailed beyond the man on the other end of the line. I picked up my phone, searched my contacts, and before I changed my mind, pressed call.

  “I knew you’d call.” I heard the deep voice on the other end answer after the second ring.

  “How did you know that? I could have been a telemarketer or a wrong number,” I snapped, irritated at being so predictable.

  Marcus chuckled over the phone, “Oh, my sweet little sub, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist calling me once you had my number. I will have to say you almost surprised me. I expected it would take at least another day or two before you gathered the nerve to make the call. I’m extremely happy to hear from you though. There are so many things I have planned, starting tonight.”

  “What do you mean, starting tonight? What if I already have plans?” I argued.

  “Cancel them. You don’t have plans with anyone else in the foreseeable future. This is non-negotiable. While you are under my tutelage, you will make yourself available to me at anytime, day or night. There will be times when I’ll ask you to attend a dinner or cocktail party with me. There will be other times when you are to be at my home, naked and waiting for me. Whatever it is, when I want you, you’ll be there at my beck and call. You will be available to me tonight. Are we clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “That’s my sweet little sub. From this point on you will address me as Sir. Now, like I said, you will get yourself ready for our night together. I want your pussy either trimmed or bare. You will wear a red dress, black heels, and absolutely no underwear. If I find you ever wearing underwear, I will rip them off of you, whether we’re in public or not. I want access to you whenever I want. You have beautiful hair, and you will wear it down for me. I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock sharp. Make sure you text me your address.” With that, the line went dead. I stared at the phone, wondering what in the hell I’d agreed to.

  I was ready by six thirty. I’d spent all day
finding a damn red dress since I didn’t already own one. I groomed myself to his specifications – I couldn’t bring myself to shave completely – and curled my hair. I felt ridiculous, and more than a little uncomfortable, not wearing underwear. I typically wore body shapers under my dresses to help smooth things out, so I definitely wasn’t used to going commando. Thankfully, he didn’t ban my bra. I was too top heavy to go without, and gravity had taken over a long time ago. I’m not sure what I would have done had that been a stipulation. I only prayed it stayed that way.

  Thirty minutes of waiting and anticipating passed with me wondering what Marcus had in store for me tonight. I should have taken more time getting ready so I spent less time dwelling and imagining hundreds of different scenarios on what tonight entailed. It promised to be the biggest surprise I’d had in a long time. I hated surprises. I only hoped I received some enjoyment from whatever Marcus planned. I sat on the couch, picked up the TV remote, and began flipping through the stations to find something to occupy myself with while I waited. After five minutes, I gave up, shut the TV off, and picked up my e-reader. I tried to get back into the book I was currently reading. I read the same line over and over and couldn’t seem to move past it. My focus remained elsewhere. I put my e-reader aside and sat there, waiting and thinking. I daydreamed until I heard the doorbell ring. I stood, smoothed down my dress, and fluffed my hair before slowly heading to the door. Deep breath, I told myself. I opened the door to find Marcus dressed almost entirely in black; black silk shirt, again with the sleeves rolled up, black jeans, black leather belt, and finally, black Ferragamos. The tiny, red pinstripes in his tie stood out against the backsplash of black.