Back to the Butterfly Lounge

Everything seemed to go up in smoke over the course of three days. I completely bombed a huge project presentation at the office. Some how my bank account was nearly dry three days after I got paid and to top it off, I had zero motivation to do anything. My brain was a foggy mess. I could not remember the last time I had a clear and concise thought.

"Son of a bitch!" I hissed, early one Tuesday morning. I was straightening my unruly hair, to look presentable, for work and instead of closing the heated plates over the parted lock of hair I was holding, I closed them tightly down on the top of my ear.

I dropped the offending tool into the sink, leaning close to the mirror to examine the seared flesh. Ugly red blisters were already appearing and turning white on the surface. A great look for a stuffy office environment.

"It won't be noticeable if I just leave my hair down." I said out loud to no one. I had always had a bad habit of talking to myself when I was stressed. No, that's a lie. I talked to myself all the time. "But after yesterday you'll be lucky if they don't fire you the second you walk in the door."

The day before I was presenting our product to a group of high powered, meaning rich, investors. I had been preparing for weeks and in the middle of my power point presentation the nerves connecting my brain to my mouth simply shut off. I became a stuttering mess to the point that my boss stepped in and asked me to leave. I was mortified. The investors simply glared at me while I collected my things and left the conference room. I barely managed to keep the tears hidden until I was back in the safety of my cubicle.

I finished getting dressed and sat down at my kitchen table to have my coffee and try to compose myself for a trying day. Opening my laptop, I scrolled lazily through social media and clicked over to my bank account. After I entered my password, I spit coffee across the table and myself when I saw the balance. Fuck! My balance had not been that low since college.

My mind raced as I looked through the recent activities. I had done this to myself. Every needless subscription to streaming services, the gym membership I never used, the week late rent check and internet bill had all been drawn out on the same night. On top of that I had treated myself to a decently large grocery run the night before. A shit day at work calls for wine and ice cream among other things. My next paycheck wasn't coming for another ten days.

"How am I going to make this work?" I said out loud, starting to tear up.

That is when I heard Darius' voice in my head. "I would see to your comfort in every aspect of your life." I shook myself. No, I would not depend on a man to take care of me. I can do this myself. "I know you hate working day to day. I know your struggles. I can make it so you only have to worry about one thing. Pleasing me." He had spoken so softly as his hand traced the training collar at my throat. I trembled at the soft touch. "Doesn't that sound lovely, cherub?"

"Yes, Master." I breathed. Still sitting at my kitchen table. Words I had not spoken in six months. I missed the feeling of those words in my mouth. I missed the security of being under Darius' control. I missed not having to think.

I had been with Him for 3 years, serving as a willing slave to his pleasure. I had felt contentment and happiness greater than any I had felt in my life during those years. He had a way of making even the most self-conscious of women feel like Goddesses under his training. I carried my large frame with pride, embracing every "flaw" as if it were an ornament. I missed feeling that way, I missed the clarity that serving afforded me. I missed my Master. If only I had accepted his locking collar, why had I been such a coward? The offer of his collar was akin to a marriage proposal. When he asked me I was so deep in subspace that I would have agreed readily but he asked me to take a few days to think about it and then contact him. That was months ago.

I wanted to go back. I had to go back. My cold feet had turned into cement blocks that were now drowning me. It was time to come back to the surface.

It took seconds to send an email to my boss letting him know that I would be taking the next three days off for personal reasons. My text to Darius was more difficult to write. I typed and erased about 30 messages before settling on simply. Master, I miss you. I need you. Please allow me to come back to you.

I sat back in my chair and stared at my phone. Waiting. Waiting. It was early in the day, maybe he wouldn't get my message until later. What if he hated me for disappearing? What if I never heard back from him again? Why did I run? What was wrong with me?

Bzz! Bzz!

My phone vibrated a message in my hand. I braced myself for the worst and opened it.

Ask me nicely. - D

My heart raced and leapt to my throat. I knew what those words meant. He would see me, but I had to be on my best behavior, his rules followed to the letter. I didn't even have to ask him for a time or place to meet. I knew. He would be at the ButterFly Lounge, a local fetish bar at 7 o'clock, he would have a single small drink to ease the tension of the day but not cloud his thinking and then he would want to play. Which mean I should meet him there at 7:25PM.

I went to my dresser and pulled the journal from the back of my underwear drawer. When I first met Darius I had written down all his rules and preferences. I still remembered them all vividly but there was no room for error tonight.

I got back in the shower and exfoliated every inch of my body. Then I shaved my legs, under my arms, I even whisked away the tiny hairs that grew on my toes. I knew better than to shave my pussy. Darius always preferred his slaves to have hair long enough to grab on their heads and lower, good for getting a wayward sub's attention. You haven't lived until you've had a slightly annoyed, if not angered, Dom grab you by the pubes and growl in your ear to Behave.

Hopefully, it was going to be a long night, so I laid down to have a late morning nap and follow another of Darius' rules. Get myself riled up thoroughly before coming to see him. He always knew if that rule was not followed.

There was all of one time I did not adhere to his command, and it was an accident. I had been working from home that day and lost track of time. I rushed out the door when my kitchen clock chimed 7 o'clock and barely made it to the ButterFly Lounge by the time Darius had finished his drink.

I skidded to a halt in front of his chair and slowly sank to my knees, in greeting.

"Had a busy day, cherub?" he asked quietly, running his hand down my hair. I leaned into his caress.

"Yes, Master, but it's better now that I'm here with you."

"Such a sweet little girl you are. Come sit on my lap so I can cuddle you properly." I smiled shyly and I rose from my place on the floor.

"I'm too heavy, Master." I said quietly. His gaze turned stern, ice filling his eyes.

"Did I stutter, slave?"

"No, Master."

"Sit then." Heat rose to my cheeks as I gingerly sat on his knees. "Closer," he growled, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into his chest. He took a deep breath, I thought out of discomfort, so I started to move away. "Where are do you think you're going, you naughty little thing."

"I- I thought you were-"

He cut me off with a hand in my hair at the base of my neck.

"Shh... You're a smart woman, aren't you cherub?" he whispered in my ear.

"I think so, Master"

"My rules aren't too much for you, are they?"

"No, Master.

"Am I forgettable? Unimportant in your life?" his grip tightened, almost, painfully in my hair.

"No, Master, of course not!" I whimpered, tears springing to my eyes as I realized my error.

"Why am I angry with you, slave?" his breath hissing against my neck.

"I didn't follow your rule. I didn't arouse myself before coming to your side."

Using my hair as a handle he forced me to stand and lead me to one of the open play stages. I hated being watched when I was with him, and I protested pathetically.

"Master... Master, please. I'm sorry"

"Hush, now, slave. Your punishments will always be swift but will always leave a lasting impression. Be a good girl, it will be over soon." He spoke softly and soothingly.

He was a harsh Master, but fair and caring. Without speaking or acknowledging the growing crowd that watched, he stripped me down to nothing. My tummy jiggled when he pulled my skirt away and I wanted to curl into a ball, but I stood still. He chained my wrists together behind my back and put a gag in my mouth so I could only moan. He was, however, not without mercy, he put a bell in my hand that I clung to for dear life. Master was a firm believer in consent and safety, since I could not speak my safe word, I was to ring the bell if I wished to stop.

He left me to stand there alone for a few moments. He did not blindfold me, so I was able to see the eyes of every on looker. To my surprise, I didn't seen disgust at my body in any of their expressions. I saw something different there, something that made me blush head to toe and grow moist between my legs. I saw lust.

Master returned with his messenger bag and a low A frame bench. I stared at it confused and glance up into his eyes. His face was alive with mischief and the devilish smile that drew me to him the first night we met. He placed the bench in front of me and gave me a wink. He reached into the bag and took out a pleasure band that he had made especially for me. It was a 3-foot-long piece of leather with smooth ball bearings worked into the hide. It was a simple thing but very effective. He laid it out flat on the bench, ball bearings side up and turned to me.

"We have to make sure your nice a riled for me, slave. Don't we?" I nodded. "Straddle the bench but don't move on the bearings just yet."

I stood over the bench, painfully aware that, as I raised my leg over the side, everyone could see deep within me. The ball bearings felt cold against my flesh, and I shivered.

"A few more adornments are needed, I think." He said, retrieving a pair of vibrating nipple clamps from his bag. He teased my nipples so I moaned, and they grew hard so he could attach the toys. These were not torturous clips, they were designed for pleasure, rounded on the edges and pinched only hard enough to stay in place and heighten sensations. At the click of a button delicious vibrations shook the clamps and he, of course, held the remote.

The last thing to come out of his bag was a short strap. One that would sting and mark tender flesh to the point of bruising. I blanched when I saw it.

"You won't feel its bite if you behave, slave girl." he said, running it along the top of my ass making my shiver all over again. I nodded and tried to lean into his chest, but he held me over the bench. "Ride it. Get yourself nice and wet for me. I want to see every piece of metal glisten."

I could have rung the bell and spared myself the coming humiliation, but I didn't. I lowered myself onto the bench and began to slowly thrust my hips back and forth so that the pleasure band rubbed over my clit and pussy. I felt myself get drenched almost instantly. He clicked the button in his palm and the clamps came alive. I moaned, loudly, not caring anymore about the crowd.

"That's it, good girl." He whispered in my ear. "Doesn't it feel nice to obey?" I nodded slowly bowing my head to him and grinding harder against the warming metal beneath me. I knew if I continued for much longer, I would come, and I rocked my hips side to side in a way that was sure to push me over the edge.

Smack.

The short strap stung against my thigh, causing the ample flesh there to ripple, I shrieked and stiffened, gazing up into my Master's face with apologetic eyes.

"Did I tell you to make yourself come?" he asked rubbing the reddened skin where the whip had stung. I shook my head miserably. "Then don't. You don't have permission and will not be receiving it tonight." I whimpered as he guided my hips back to the center of the bench and pushed me back down onto the pleasure band. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to that spectacular moment of release. Sweat broke out all over my body and my movements became frantic. "Stop!" He commanded. I froze, every inch of me tingling, my clit screaming and my mind reeling.

"Good girl. How would you like a little help getting good and wet?" My breath caught in my throat; my mind was so fogged by pleasure that I didn't think about what his words could mean. I simply moaned loudly in response.

"Anyone who wants to," he announced to the group who had gathered, "please feel free to come up and fondle my naughty little sub."

Ring. Ring. Ring. I shook the bell in my hand with all the strength I had.

Without a word, Darius stepped in front of me, and with deft hands; he released my chains, grabbed a robe, I had not seen under the bench and wrapped me in it. He took me into his arms and lead me off the stage. Where he proceeded to shower me with praise and affection for the remainder of the club's operating hours.

There were no disappointed sounds from the crowd who had been watching, no agitated comments, just a kind round of applause. Not all public scenes at the ButterFly Lounge ended in sex, in fact some of the hottest I had witnessed didn't even include nudity.

Back in my bedroom, I replayed the events of that night in my head, running my hands over my body in a kind of trance. I avoided touching my nipples as that would easily arouse me too much and I would struggle not to masturbate to completion. I thought about how it felt to kneel at my Master's knees with a drink in my hand and how happy he's simple smile of approval made me. I thought about the feeling of his hands on my body or his teeth on my neck. "I miss you" I whispered to the image of him in my mind. I teased my thighs, pinching the soft curves in the way he did when I sassed him, tears began to well in my eyes. Why had I run away? Why?

I pushed the sadness out of my mind and went back to the task at hand. Tears, when given out of sorrow, did not make good lubricant.

I imaged him railing into me while holding my hands above my head. Telling me how much a needy little slut I was. In my mind I heard him grunting and growling out his release. I could smell his sweat on my body, and I burned. I massaged around my core and gently tugged on the hair there.

When I began to ache and all focus was drawn to my clit, I pulled my hands away and wrapped them around a pillow to avoid the temptation of further play. Closing my eyes tightly, I tried to sleep.

Once my body calmed enough to allow rest to take hold, I was swept into shapeless dreams. Floating on whisps of smoke and clouds, I smelled his cologne and felt the calm that had eluded me for the last six months. Tumbling across oceans of nothing, I was flying and falling at the same time. I couldn't see faces but somehow, I knew he was there. I knew that no matter what happened, he would protect me. Security was so close, I only had to make it back to his side.

My eyes fluttered open. Back in my bedroom. The scent of him was gone and I felt cold under my covers. The sky had darkened while I slept. I wanted to roll over and go back to the dream back to that soothing nothingness, but I knew better. I had to make myself presentable.

His favorite dress hung in the back of my closet, a blood red bohemian wrap that hugged my curves and danced just above my knees. A lacey front clasping bra was all that I wore under the delicate fabric. A strong breeze would easily reveal me to the world, my sensible side screamed at me to change, but I thought of how something like that would amuse Darius and the matter was settled in my mind. I slipped into my black ballet flats and glanced in the mirror. The effect was beautiful. An air of deceptive innocence surrounded me. I looked as though I wouldn't be out of place at the church function if it weren't for the hint of too much revealed cleavage.

Another hour and I would be standing in front of the man, I now realized that I more than lusted after, asking for his forgiveness. My stomach was knots but I knew I had to eat, had to nourish my body.

A light dinner made up of salad with teriyaki tuna sprinkled over the top was all I could bring myself to eat. I knew that if my stomach growled while I was with him, I would be punished but I would also be punished if I made myself sick by forcing too much food into my system. Some situations were truly no-win scenarios.

Before leaving my apartment, I spritzed some of the perfume he bought me for my birthday into my hair and dabbed it behind my ears. The smell always made me feel beautiful. Musky rose and woody mahogany, crowned with the slightest hint of citrus. The effect the scent had on men, Darius included, had me convinced that some type of pheromone was blended into the mix, but the label was in a language I couldn't understand, and Darius' lips were sealed on the matter.

The clock on my kitchen wall chimed and I knew it was time. I got in my car and drove, in silence, to the ButterFly Lounge.

Nothing had changed in the time I was away. The same large bouncer, Buddy, greeted me when I approached the door. The same lockers lined the entrance hall, where I stored my purse and keys. And the same incredibly sexy twins tended the bar.

Gina and George were a pair unlike any other with pitch black hair, sharp green eyes and bodies that would make Calvin Kline models jealous. They waved at me simultaneously and pointed over to the private corner next to the bar where I knew Darius would be sitting.

I approached that corner, trembling, I took a step around the privacy panel that separated the seating area from the rest of the club and there he was. I didn't speak and he didn't look up from his book. Steadying myself, I took a few steps forward and noticed that his eyes stopped moving on the page. Kneeling just to his right, I took a deep breath, rested my hands on my thighs, palms up and whispered. "Master..."

His book snapped shut in his hand and he pounced forward, grabbing the back of my head and forcing his lips onto mine in a passionate kiss. His tongue traced my lips, then probed into the deepest crevasses it could reach. Without pulling away he pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me while I remained on my knees straining to reach him, but not daring to touch him. He pulled away and I settled back, resting on my thighs. For a few long moments we simply looked at each other. Neither one of us wanting to speak, for fear of breaking the spell.

"I've missed you, Molly." He said quietly, brushing away the tears I didn't realized I had been crying.

"I missed you so much, Darius." The words came out gravelly.

"Are you ready to continue where we left off, cherub?"

"Yes, Master."