Author: Tiffany Reisz

“Nor?”

“Shit.” Nora turned around to find Wesley in her bedroom looking pale and cold. “Thought you had study group.”

“I ran off without my notes,” he said with a tremor in his voice. “I came back for them. Nora—”

“Save it. I need a night off.”

She grabbed her matching white fedora but didn’t put it on. Finding her coat and her keys, she headed for the front door.

“Nora, you said everything was fine.”

“It is fine,” Nora said at the door.

“Please, please be safe.” His voice caught in his throat.

“Don’t worry, kid. She’s five-two and a hundred pounds. I can take her. And I will.” She rolled the hat up her arm and set it on her head. “Don’t wait up.”

Nora made good time to the club and parked in her usual spot. She checked her coat and took the secret entrance in the coat closet that led downstairs. At the last door on the left she paused and took a breath. She opened the door and couldn’t suppress a smile at the sight that greeted her.

“Sheridan…” Nora nearly purred the girl’s name as she entered her room at the club. Sheridan lay stretched out on Nora’s bed wearing nothing but a white lacy garter and a smile. Nora snapped her fingers and Sheridan came up on her knees at the edge of the bed.

In the beginning Kingsley had taught Nora the rules of being a paid Dominant. He was no pimp and never allowed his employees to have sex with clients on his time clock.

Rule number one, he’d intoned in his erotic French accent. Do not kiss your clients. They may kiss you…but only on the toe of your boot.

“Hello, Mistress.”

Nora cupped Sheridan’s face in her hand and gave her a long, thorough kiss. Sheridan tasted of strawberries and Nora breathed into her lips. Kingsley and his rules were powerless against the petite blonde beauty of Sheridan Stratford, star of Empire City, the number one drama on television. Only twenty-three, Sheridan had been a client of Nora’s for two years now. She’d come running to Kingsley after four years of being unable to have an orgasm during vanilla sex. In her first session with Nora, Sheridan had climaxed five times.

Sheridan held on to Nora’s suspenders as Nora ran her hands from Sheridan’s shoulders down to her hips. Right now Sheridan’s skin was a pristine porcelain canvas waiting for Nora to mark it. But first…

Nora pushed Sheridan down and onto her back. With her knees Nora wrenched Sheridan’s thighs apart. Out in the real world, Sheridan had earned the moniker “America’s Sweetheart” because of her innocent blue-eyed beauty and sweet smile. In nearly every role she played a virgin. Virgin? Sheridan hadn’t been a virgin since age fourteen when her father’s best friend had turned her over his knee, spanked her and fucked her right on her councilman father’s big oak desk. She’d developed an appetite for extreme sex, intense BDSM, and couldn’t orgasm unless submitting to a Dominant. Her father’s best friend had kept on his Armani business suit while deflowering Sheridan and now Sheridan had a delicious little fetish for men’s clothing.

With one hand Nora held Sheridan down by her throat while her mouth tasted the tips of Sheridan’s small but perfectly formed breasts. Nora’s other hand slipped down Sheridan’s flat stomach and teased her already swollen clitoris.

“You started without me.” Nora met Sheridan’s eyes as she pushed two fingers into Sheridan’s wet body.

“Am I in trouble, mistress?”

Nora laughed, low and throaty.

“Do you want to be in trouble, little miss?”

Sheridan nodded humbly and smiled so sweetly it took everything Nora had in her not to kiss the smile right off her face.

“Yes, mistress,” she whispered and the smile remained.

Nora raised her hand and slapped it off instead.

Sheridan gasped as Nora grabbed her by the back of the neck; her fingers tangled in the girl’s blond hair, and she dragged her to the head of the bed. From under the bed, Nora pulled her famous red riding crop.

“Hands here,” Nora ordered and Sheridan came up on her knees and gripped the black metal headboard as instructed.

Nora found Sheridan’s clitoris again and kneaded it. In a few moments Sheridan started panting and pushing her hips into Nora’s hand.

“Pick a number between one and five,” Nora instructed, and Sheridan groaned. Poor little thing hated this game. Nora never revealed in advance what Sheridan was picking. One to five orgasms? One to five beatings?

Sheridan’s small hands twisted nervously on the black metal of the headboard.

“Five, mistress?” her worried voice replied.

“Five then, little miss.” Nora pulled her hand away from Sheridan. “Five welts.”

Sheridan released a moan of fear. A well-justified moan as Nora brought her crop down hard and swift between Sheridan’s shoulder blades. Another blow landed in the center of Sheridan’s back. Another on her lower back. Nora hit even harder on her bottom and hardest still on her thighs. With each strike, Sheridan cried out. It hurt. Of course it hurt. Sheridan didn’t love it until it hurt.

Nora dropped the crop and ran her hand down Sheridan’s welted back. She, like Søren, knew how to beat someone brutally without leaving marks. But Sheridan cherished her welts and bruises just as Nora once did. The public believed Sheridan didn’t do nude scenes because of modesty. Modesty? The girl once let four men fuck her in one night while Nora watched and directed the action. No, the only reason Sheridan kept her clothes on in public was because of what Nora did to her in private.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Nora whispered as she traced a finger around a bright red slash on Sheridan’s back. Nora slid between Sheridan and the headboard. Once more she lightly sucked on Sheridan’s nipples. With both hands, Nora opened up Sheridan’s wet folds and looked up at the gasping girl. “It wasn’t just five welts you were choosing.”

“No, mistress?”

“No…you also picked five fingers.”

Sheridan shuddered as Nora pushed first two, then three fingers into her. Nora considered pausing for lube but Sheridan was so wet right now, lube would be a moot point. A fourth finger followed. Finally Nora turned her hand and pushed her thumb into Sheridan and Sheridan cried out in shocked pleasure.

“Don’t you dare, little miss,” Nora warned.

Sheridan’s breaths came in short bursts as she forced herself not to orgasm. Nora never let her come on her own…only on command.

Spreading her fingers, Nora pushed in deeper.

“Now,” Nora said as she lightly pinched Sheridan’s clitoris. The girl released a desperate gasp as her inner muscles spasmed wildly around Nora’s hand.

As Nora pulled out, Sheridan released a little whimper. It seemed such a crime to take Sheridan’s money for these sessions. Nora would pay good money herself just to hear that sound.

“I’m going to tell you another secret, little miss.” Nora gathered a fistful of Sheridan’s hair again and pulled her off the bed. She shoved Sheridan forward so the girl stood with her legs a foot apart and her hands on the bed.

“Yes, mistress?”

Nora gathered supplies before coming to stand at the opposite side of the bed. She threw down a crop, a flogger, a cane, a paddle and a whip—five implements of torture. Then she lay down in a straight line five vibrators of increasingly larger sizes.

“It wasn’t just five fingers, either,” Nora said as Sheridan started panting again in anticipation at the sight of all the pain ahead of her, all the pleasure.

“Mistress…” Sheridan breathed. “I only paid for an hour.”

Nora laughed.

Rule number two, maîtresse…give them everything they paid for and not a minute more.

Nora came back to Sheridan and caressed the girl’s trembling back, kissed her shivering shoulder.

“Shh…” Nora instructed as she ran a single finger down the side of Sheridan’s exquisite face. “What Kingsley doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Nora took off her jacket and tossed it aside. She reached for the cane and Sheridan whimpered.

That sound…worth every minute, worth every penny.

Before this night ended, she’d break Sheridan open—body and soul.

Some days Nora loved her job.

* * *

Several hours later Nora pulled up her suspenders and stuffed her tie in her pocket.

Sheridan still lay in bed, the sheet twisted around her hips leaving her petite back, scored with welts and bruises, bare to the eye.

“You did very well tonight, little miss,” Nora said. “A pleasure as always. Until next time.”

“Nora?” she said and Nora turned around. Sheridan sat up and pulled the covers primly up to her chest, an odd gesture considering the last three hours of sex and S&M they’d shared.

“What’s up, Sher?” Nora sat on the bed next to the pale, small beauty.

“I don’t know if there’ll be a next time. I’m getting married.”

“Married? People still do that?”

Sheridan laughed. “God knows why, but yes.”

“You’ve told him—”

She nodded. “He says…he’ll try. We’re working on it. He won’t be as good as you, but then again who is?”

Nora smiled in agreement.

“I’ll miss you, beautiful.” Nora leaned forward and kissed the girl with a passion she rarely allowed herself to share with her clients. She pulled back and looked into Sheridan’s wide, tired eyes. “But you do what you have to do. Are you sure you have to do it?”

Sheridan shrugged and looked so small and sad that for a moment Nora hated the girl’s fiancé with an anger she usually reserved only for her fights with Søren.

“Can’t do this forever, can we?” she asked. “I mean, I have to have something in my life besides money and work and waiting for you to have a few hours for me. You’ve got your books, Nora. I want to have something like that, something that matters more than anything. Can you understand that?”

Nora nodded and didn’t say anything. She just pressed her forehead to Sheridan’s and rested it there. She kissed her quick on the forehead and stood up.

“Call me if he needs me to show him the ropes, little miss.”

Nora headed to the door.

“I’ll miss you, too, mistress.”

Nora turned around and doffed her hat like a matinee idol.

“Be a good girl,” Nora said and left before she changed her mind. “Or else.”

Sheridan stayed on her mind all the way home. Can’t do this forever, can we?

Nora went into her office and turned on the desk lamp. She threw her hat onto the armchair, turned on her computer and opened the working draft of her book.

She thought about Zach, how he’d told her in the beginning that he thought she’d fail. She wondered if a part of him still thought that. Part of her certainly still thought that. But she wouldn’t fail. She’d show Zach who she really was. Nora Sutherlin was a writer, a good writer. And once he finished the book and signed the contract then she could finally tell him she was a Dominatrix—an ex-Dominatrix by then.

She leaned back into her chair and yawned. She reread the scene she’d been working on earlier. Deciding she didn’t like it, she erased it and started over.

15

Zach pulled Nora’s latest chapter off his office printer and picked up his red pen. Skimming the lines, he rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. He needed to talk to Nora about the last few chapters she’d sent. They were going well, but he was afraid she was starting to lose her way again. She was obviously in love with her characters and wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. But her musings slowed the story down. He had to give it up and face her again. It had been five days since that night. He still couldn’t think of it without hating himself a little more each time he remembered how he’d been unable to stop himself from touching her face…her skin was so soft and warm…and how he wanted to see her hair down and loose…so he pulled out the pens and let it fall…and her voice seemed to get inside him and stoke a fire he thought he’d long ago extinguished.