All I Want for Christmas blasted from the DJ booth at the party, and drew throngs of thrill-seeking partygoers to the dance floor. I wasn’t much for dancing, so I stopped by the bar in the center of the room and ordered two fingers of Macallan Scotch. While waiting for my drink, I observed the celebrations taking place all around me.
Some guests had taken the masquerade theme to extreme lengths and wore costumes that wouldn’t seem out of place in a Venetian ballroom, but not me. I’d kept my attire simple and stylish with a tailored tuxedo and a plain black masque.
The yearly Christmas party at Expose was a safe and sane place for members to indulge in their deepest consensual desires without having to worry about judgment or repercussions. And indulge they did.
If CEOs and politicians wanted movie stars to trail them around the club as if they were pets, they could. Or if box office heartthrobs wanted to wear cuffs, a collar, and a fucking gimp mask while licking their mistress’s feet, they were more than welcome. No cameras, no phones, and a fifty-page NDA meant no evidence.
The no electronics policy was a rule everyone followed, understood, and respected. The policy hadn’t always been so strict, but when pictures and video clips of members began appearing online, the club owners stepped in and amended the membership guidelines. These days, we communicated either verbally or through in-house alphanumeric pagers.
The bartender sat a glass of the twenty-one-year-old scotch in front of me. I picked it up and took a sip, thankful for the slight burn as the liquor slid down my throat. Interviews about my latest memoir had filled the day, and I needed a few glasses of the five-hundred-dollar malt to take the edge off.
As I sipped my drink, I wandered around, discreetly viewing the invitees who’d begun their debauched festivities early. I never took part in scenes on the club floor because exhibitionism wasn’t one of my kinks and I preferred the privacy of my own room, tools, and toys, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the visual delights offered on a nightly basis.
At this very minute, in Santa’s grotto, two eager, pointy-eared elves sucked and deep-throated Santa’s hard candy cane while Santa harshly spanked Rudolph’s ass, giving a new meaning to the words shiny and bright. Meanwhile, in one of the cages hanging over the floor, a sub draped in fairy lights writhed and danced for everyone’s pleasure.
Later, after Vivian and I had finished in my room, there would be plenty of time to observe and partake in the revelry on the club floor. My dick twitched thinking about my very own festivities. I had a night of flogging, fingering and fucking planned and since Vivian was late, I also planned to punish her with orgasm denial. Cruel but necessary. She knew how I felt about tardiness. I disliked it as much as I disliked dishonesty and disloyalty.
For the past six months, she’d been a good but a somewhat humdrum sub. Her contract was up in the New Year, and it was time for both of us to move on. Something she wasn’t thrilled about.
Our parting of ways might not have happened if she hadn’t started showing up at my apartment and office unannounced and uninvited. I would have considered extending her time with me, but she made the mistake of expecting more than I’d agreed to give. From day one she knew the deal. A long-term commitment was my hard limit. Anything more than a limited and contracted partnership with anyone wasn’t in the cards for me.
To my left, tinkling bells caught my attention, and I glanced over to see where the sound was coming from. Katrina, a young pink-haired sub with whom I’d acted out several scenes in the past, ran up to me with a sprig of mistletoe clasped between her fingers. Mischief sparkled in her hazel eyes, and a smile played on her rosebud lips.
The low neckline of her obscenely short renaissance-style dress revealed tweezer-style clamps with silver bells attached to the ends and fastened to her ripe nipples. Offering her a contract had frequently crossed my mind, but I’d been too slow to act, and Killian Delaney snapped her up before I’d had the chance to.
Perhaps that had been for the best, since Killian was besotted with the little imp, and a Christmas engagement wouldn’t surprise me. Some doms were dumb enough to fall in love with their subs. But not me. I was fucking smart enough to keep it professional, always.
“Merry Christmas, Sir. May I have a kiss?” She asked, holding the mistletoe above her head.
Annoyance at her question bristled inside me. She knew better than to ask for a kiss.
“Where’s Master Killian, sub?”
She lowered her eyes before she spoke. “I’m not sure, Sir.”
“Does your Master know you’re running around the club asking for kisses?” I pressed two fingers beneath her chin, and said, “You may look at me when you speak.”
“It’s our game, Sir. If he catches me, then I’m in big trouble.”
Amusement trickled through me, washing away my previous annoyance, and I chuckled at the naughty sub’s evident desire to have her master catch her. “We both know how much you love trouble, don’t we, Kat?”
“Oh, yes, Sir, very much. So, can I have a kiss?”
When I stared directly into her eyes, she visibly swallowed. “You know it’s against my rules to kiss anyone, pet.”
Her lips quivered, and she appeared seconds away from crying. “Not even a kiss on my cheek?” she asked, turning her face. “It’s Christmas.”
“Well, since it’s Christmas, I’ll allow it.” I lowered my lips to her cheek and pressed a quick kiss to her soft, floral scented skin. Upon lifting my lips, I reached up and gave her hair a gentle tug. “Run, little sub. I see your Master approaching, and he looks pissed.”
She gave me a quick nod and a wide Miss America smile. “Thank you, Sir.” And with a delighted squeal, she scampered away with bells ringing in her wake.
As Killian passed, I said, “You have your work cut out for you with that one.”
“Exactly how I like it, mate.” With a pat on my shoulder, he darted past in search of his prize.
I continued to walk around, occasionally stopping to catch up with old friends. My patience with Vivian’s lateness was wearing thin. She would pay dearly for making me wait. After one more lap around the floor, I took a seat at the bar and ordered my second and last drink of the night.
I’d been a member of the club since it had opened. Over the years, I’d watched many members come and go. I’d helped celebrate marriages and births, and grieved when members went to meet their maker. But lately, I’d found myself growing tired. While not exactly boring, being a member was no longer as thrilling as it once was. The place no longer held the allure it once did.
At forty, maybe I was too fucking old to play games with subs. Perhaps I needed a new challenge, but I didn’t know what that new challenge might be. I was at the top of the investment world and had billions in the bank. My new memoir released in two days, and I gave motivational talks all around the world. I had everything I might want, but it didn’t seem enough. No matter how hard I pushed myself and no matter how much I achieved or how many accolades or awards I won, nothing appeared to fill the gaping emptiness inside of me.
“You not taking part?” Nathan, one of my neighbors, stood beside me and nodded towards a scene involving Master Dylan, his sub Lizzie, a dildo sculpted from ice and restraints fashioned from fairy lights.
“You know me— that’s not my thing. Plus, Vivian is on her way. Or she should be.”
Members gathered around to watch Dylan at work. The icy dildo began to melt on contact with Lizzie’s pussy, and her eyes glazed over with passion and need. She was vocal in her pleasure, and when Dylan told her to remain silent, her moans increased in volume. Were she mine, I would punish her for not listening— in a way that would make her scream even louder.
Nathan casually leaned against the bar and gestured for a beer. “I thought you and Vivian were done.”
I continued to watch the scene play out. Lizzie’s tits jutted out, bouncing as she writhed against the fast-melting toy. Her moans now reaching a fucking crescendo of desire.
“We are. Tonight is our last contracted night. I invited her here as a reward. She’s been asking to come here since we signed our contract.”
It hadn’t been a good idea, to mix the Expose Club, which I considered my personal life, with my “relationship” with Vivian, which was entirely professional. But now that we were ending, I’d figured granting her that wish as a Christmas present couldn’t hurt.
After a minute, the bartender tossed a coaster in front of me and sat my drink down in front of me.
“Is Vivian okay with you ending things?” Nathan asked.
“She understands. She’s not happy, but she understands.”
The volume of Lizzie’s orgasm rose over the murmur of voices, resulting in applause from the bystanders.
The pager in my pocket vibrated.
“Excuse me,” I said, taking out the device.
The message was from Jimmy, informing me that my guest had arrived. I shot a message back telling him to bring her straight to my room.
Someone was in big trouble.