The woman is beautiful, exceedingly beautiful, like one of those models on the front page of The BDSM Times magazine. Like one of the women who model the new leathered brands, with whip in hand and withering men and women sprawled around her stilettos. Like a true dominatrix. Nothing about her sends me playful quirky vibes like Noma, no. The only thing this woman is producing is pure power. Ranks be damned. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought she held an S position. Mistress Buchanan holds her hand out with a calm smile and deep assuring breaths. The sudden movement causes her hair to spill over her shoulder; covering the little amount of skin from her chest.
"Oh, hello," I clasp her hand with both of mine shaking a bit vigorously. She only smiles, crinkling the skin in the corners of her eyes in humor. "Thanks for having me." Mistress Buchanan beckons Noma with a "come here" motion of the finger, and Noma slides in close tucking her dress under her legs and crossing her arms over the table.
"Be a good girl and go retrieve some refreshments, okay?"
"Mistress I can't just-"
"Now Noma." Ms. Buchanan's smile slides off her face and the air in the room goes static and tense. Noma grits her teeth reeling in her own presence and then quick on her feet, without a second word, she flees from the scene. When the door softly clicks signing the departure of Noma, the older woman's smile returns, and the tenseness of the air dissipates.
"Thank you for being so adamant on joining our little family. Your story was quite the talk both publicly and personally. Ezra is absolutely smitten with you." Her smile slightly twitches, but the warmth in the corners of her eyes remain. Or maybe that's just part of the mask. Warmth and acceptance. The room goes quiet and it's not the easy comfortable type either. No, this is strained and for reasons unknown, it leaves a nasty taste on my tongue and buried in the pit of my stomach.
"So, what's this meeting about?" Ms. Buchanan's legs cross over one another and the milky skin of her thighs and calves peek out from behind the white of her dress. I squint my eyes tracing the seaming of the material. Is it a dress?
"Just a general introduction. I like to meet all my new play members personally. It's a bonding experience. Like when a mother holds her newborn babe for the first time. I always wanted to talk to you about your arrangements here and some general rules of the household, and the people contained within it." She finally swipes the strand of hair behind her earlobe and fishes into her pocket, flap thing. She retrieves a phone, taps on the screen, and then places the piece to her ear speaking soft and subtle.
"She's here..." Ms. Buchanan shoots me a look nods once and then pockets the phone. She bares her teeth in a smile and scoots out of her chair to walk to my section.
"Come with me, I've got a welcoming gift for you." Her hold is firm on the skin of my arms tugging firm and solid.
"Where are we going?" I stumble away from my chair, pushing the solidness of it backward.
"A surprise." Ms. Buchanan leads me away from the table with her hair swaying down the curve of her back; stride gliding her like butter on a heated pan. I bite the skin of my lip while moving sluggishly through the rows of bookcases, back towards the front entrance of the room.
"W-we're leaving?" The woman nods once. Her skinny fingers wrap around the door handle gentling the door open with little to no sound at all. When it is fully cracked she offers the smoothness of her arm.
"What about Noma, she is supposed to be heading back here right?"
"She knows," Her voice holds a tint of comicality, jumping with a certain ease. "Plus, this is our bonding time. I know you'll love this, I know you will." With that, Mistress Buchanan hooks our arms and stirs our bodies out the room and down the hall. I look over my shoulder catching Christian huddled close to the back of the pit. Hands clenching firm on the outer rim, watching. When we catch eyes, the boy stiffens sinking deeper until only his eyes and the blond strands of his hair are visible. I offer a stiff and god forbid awkward smile. And right before we turn the corner, I watch as he returns it.
YOU ARE READING
Mistress's Good Boy (BWWM)
Romance*Warning there may be sensitive topics in the book* Where one's status is based on their Dominant or Submissive alleles, Ama'Rose always felt a deep reluctance to take part in societies grouping. She couldn't see herself under someone else's control...
