Chub Rub Read online

  “Oh sweetie, you’ll get there. I promise. We just gotta get you a good Master, and tonight, we’ll find the outfit needed to do just that. Take a left up here. I have an idea!”

  Snuggling into bed that night, I thought about what she said. She was right. I would eventually get there, and the outfit she had picked out for me was sure to attract some kind of attention, I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, but I was ready to find out.

  I could feel the butterflies twirling around in my stomach, threatening to uproot my dinner. I was a bigger bundle of nerves than I had been last week, but at least this time, I knew what to expect when I arrived at “The Hunt”. I knew what to look for, and I knew how to conduct myself. This was going to be a piece of cake. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself before I dozed off.

  Chapter Ten

  Jackson

  Leather and Lace. Another event I despised. Come to think of it, I was beginning to detest all of the “events” that we normally had. I enjoyed the nights where there wasn’t a motif. Where Doms and subs came together to enact and fulfill a sexual and mental desire with each other, without the expectations of adhering to a special “theme”. The only reason we kept around nights like this was for the newcomers. They needed a gradual introduction into the lifestyle, and hosting themed nights gave them the knowledge of what to expect.

  I hadn’t been to a Leather and Lace event past the first one. They were all the same, in fact all the themed nights were the same, just a different decor. I actually hadn’t been into the club at all since I had stormed into my attached house the Saturday before, trying to come up with a plan to get a hold of Maggie Sweets.

  I racked my brain all day Sunday, clutching her pretty panties in my hand, trying to figure out how I could get a hold of her. I looked her up on social media sites, I poured over the paperwork she had submitted, and I was even ashamed to admit I contacted the doctor on record for her last physical and tried to play the boyfriend card. It had been no use, I could get no information, from anyone. By the time Sunday night had arrived, I had drank myself into an almost stupor, still fingering those lace panties like they might teleport me into her bedroom.

  They didn’t teleport me, but they were shoved into the pocket of the pants I was currently wearing. Adjusting myself for the millionth time that night, I considered going back to the safety of my home and putting on a pair of regular denim jeans. Leather clung to the skin, and chafed even the skinniest of people, and I fucking hated wearing it. But wear it, I would, in the hopes that my little sub would somehow come back and I would need to blend in so as not to startle her.

  The last seven days had been pure unadulterated hell on my psyche. I couldn’t get the little minx out of my head. Everywhere I went, her whispers followed me, seducing me at the most inappropriate times. I had had a perpetual hard-on since I woke up, hungover, on Monday morning, and no amount of jacking off had reduced the swelling for more than an hour. Somehow, this mousy haired girl had burrowed her way into my brain and had taken up permanent residence. When I closed my eyes, the vision of her spread eagle on the bed assaulted my senses, and overrode my common sense. The taste of her pussy lingered on my tongue long after she had gone, and even the whiskey hadn’t washed it away. I was fucked.

  Sitting here in the camera room, with only my leather pants on, I scanned the screens, hoping to see her, my cock agreeing wholeheartedly with the plan. I needed to fuck the girl and then, move on. Once I gave her a taste of my pain and filled her with my come, I could rip her out of my head by the roots, and get over it. I fucking hated feeling so out of control with my own emotions, and once she was out of my system, my perfectly calm existence could return to just that. Yeah, right, Jackson. I still wanted to train her, and I still wanted to make her mine. Fucking her wasn’t going to change that, no matter how much I told myself otherwise.

  Running an absent minded finger over my forearm, I winced at the sting reverberating up my arm. Anytime in my life, when the feeling of claustrophobia and anxiety hit, I squashed it with new ink. What had started out as a small tattoo, something to take my mind off my crippling fear of water, had turned into a masterpiece travelling around my shoulders, and neck and down my arms and chest. Each time I felt my control slipping, I added onto it. Never the same thing, and no two pieces exactly alike. At the rate I was going, I wasn’t going to have much space left soon.

  Without warning, the hairs on the back of neck stood up, and the feeling of nausea gripped me. Looking over the monitors, inspecting each screen closely, I found the thing that had caused my sudden reaction. My lungs stopped moving, and I could feel my heart pumping blood through my ears.

  There, in the middle screen, was my little sub. Dressed in a red leather corset that was pushing her boobs up to her chin, and a pair of red lace frilly panties, I watched as she removed her coat completely and awaited her wrist band for the night. Her hair had been curled and fell along her back, a few stray tendrils framing her plump face. Although the camera was a bit farther then I would have liked, it was impossible to miss the black six inch stilettos strapped to her feet. I marvelled at her ability to walk in them. I marvelled at any woman’s ability to even stand in them.

  I watched, vaguely aware, as Polly came into view behind her, followed by Chase. I stamped down the rush of jealousy when Chase grabbed both Polly and Maggie by the upper arms, gently, and guided them into the main room, and it didn’t escape my notice that half the men and women in the room turned at their arrival.

  Until now, I hadn’t even noticed Polly’s outfit, but when I did, I couldn’t help but smile. She wore a simple leather half shirt, leather shorts, and a pair of cat ears on her head. Although the ensemble was smokin’ hot, it was muted, and I guessed she had toned it down to make way for her single friend to get noticed. She was a good friend to Maggie, and from the little bits I had heard, a good sub to Chase.

  My dick certainly noticed her, pushing against the seam of my own leather death traps. I reached down and adjusted myself again, but there was no room for this much bulge in these pants. Sitting back and unbuttoning the cause of my distress, I freed my cock and let it rest on my stomach. Looking over at the door, I confirmed I had locked it before I stole my gaze back to the screens in front of me.

  It took me a moment to find her, but when I did, I instinctively fisted my leaking cock, and started a slow torturous pace of up and down. She looked ready to pass out from the nerves, and her arms rested in the space between where her corset and her panties met, leaving a small part of her abdomen exposed. It was painfully obvious she was uncomfortable. Her bottom lip was plump, the result of her teeth digging into it, and when Chase rejoined the ladies, sporting a drink for them both, I watched as she visually relaxed a small amount.

  Within a few minutes, her glass was empty, and had I been close enough to her, I imagined I would have been able to see the slightest tinge of color warming her face from the alcohol. My dick twitched in my hand, demanding more attention, but I refused to be rushed. Every night this week, I had gone to bed with my own image of her in my head, and now with the live thing in front of me (or as close as I could be in that moment), I was going to savor it.

  Twenty minutes later, and on the edge of coming all over myself, I continued to stare as Maggie accepted her third drink from an unknown Dom and shook her head, declining his advances. He had been the fourth one she had turned down, and every time she did, I felt something unfamiliar blossom in my chest.

  Moments later, she turned, facing the camera, and I could swear, even though it was absolutely impossible, she could see right through the recording device and right into my eyes. Spewing white, hot, liquid silk out of the slit in my cock and over my stomach, I massaged my shaft and stared into the eyes that hadn’t looked away. My hardon raged beneath my hand, not diminishing at all, and I knew I needed to find a way to get her back into my room. I needed to fuck her. As soon as possible.

  Finally tearing my eyes away from the
screen, I found a towel and wiped up the mess on my torso, before shoving my still hard cock back into its confines and buttoning myself back up. I needed to find a way to approach her without her running off, although I wouldn’t blame her if she did. I had been an absolute shit last weekend, and a fuck all Dom when she needed me.

  Just then, my opportunity arose in the form of the asshole Dom who couldn’t take a hint last week. Ready to spring into action, I sat and watched the encounter. Immediately, Maggie assumed a more submissive pose, falling to her knees, but it wasn’t like it had been the week prior with me. This one was laced with fear. I didn’t know how I could possibly know that with one meeting in the past and only a camera scene in front of me, but I just knew, and I could feel my blood start to boil. I waited a minute more, just in case I was misinterpreting something, but when they exchanged a few words back and forth and her head shook with an obvious “no” answer and he didn’t leave, I rose up to my feet, ready to put an end to it.

  I saw red as soon as he leaned over and grabbed her upper arm in a punishing grip, her face distorting in pain. Kicking the chair away from me, I marched to the door and threw it open, signaling to James to take over monitoring. Like a lion stalking my prey, I silently made my way over to the scene, mere seconds after it had started. Maggie’s eyes were still focused on the ground, her arm latched in his death grip.

  “Who do you think you are, you little slut, to turn down a Dom?” his voice just above a growling whisper.

  It took the last remaining self control I had not to knock him out with one well laid punch. This guy was a jackass, and a shit human being. In my club, you treated subs with respect, and I was not going to stand for his abuse. It made no difference that the woman he was speaking about was Maggie, I didn’t tolerate that sort of behavior with any of my subs. Period.

  “And who do you think you are to talk to a submissive that way in my club?” I roared, my voice carrying throughout the space, drawing more attention. “Let her go, now, before you lose that arm,” I growled, threateningly.

  He immediately let go, but not before delivering an extra pinch to Maggie’s arm. Taking the last stride needed to fully immerse myself between them, I offered her my hand, palm up, and smiled when she showed no hesitation in placing her smaller hand in mind to help her stand. My small smile disappeared, just as suddenly, when she yanked her hand away as soon as she had regained her footing, and her eyes flared with anger.

  Turning my back to her, I gripped the lapels of Master Sam’s jacket and pushed him against the nearby wall, rage consuming me.

  “You’re OUT, Sam. When a woman says no, submissive or not, you back the fuck off. I revoke your membership from “The Hunt”. James will escort you out, and don’t fucking come back or YOU. WILL. REGRET. IT.,” I snarled, pushing him again and releasing my hold.

  Not even bothering to let him say anything, I strode back over to Maggie and looked her in the eyes. She wasn’t looking at me, instead, she watched as James escorted a seething Sam out of the doors and into the cold. I followed her eyes, making sure James had no issues delivering my verdict.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” Maggie yelled, drawing my attention back to her, from the front door. She had turned back to me, her head held high, defiance coursing through every word. Her hands were placed on her hips and her eyes sparkled with glittering anger.

  “Excuse me?” It was all I could think to say. After I had just saved her from that creep, she had the nerve to be mad at me? I could feel my temper rising. This was not how this was supposed to go. I was going to save her from him, and in turn, she would forget my atrocious behavior from last week and rejoin me in my personal room.

  “I can take care of myself, Master Jackson,” she spit back at me, sarcasm surrounding only one word of the sentence.

  “Oh really, little sub. You certainly looked like you were ready to show him who was boss,” I smugly said, my arms crossing over my bare chest.

  “I am NOT your little sub, Jackson, leave me the fuck alone.”

  The shock on my face was apparent, because, instantly, Maggie’s face flushed and embarrassment seeped in at the scene around her. Every single person had seen the exchange between the two of us. And every single person stared at her like she had four heads. You didn’t speak to a Dom like that, and you certainly didn’t speak to the owner like that.

  I watched as Polly rushed over and put her arm around Maggie’s shoulders, attempting to guide her away from me. Like fuck that was going to happen.

  “Master Chase, please have your submissive remove her hands from Miss Sweets and rejoin you,” I shot over my shoulder, where I knew Chase was standing.

  “Kitten,” Chase warned her.

  At his command, she didn’t hesitate in unwrapping herself from Maggie and walking back towards her Dom, but not before she gave me a scathing look. Her eyes said everything her mouth couldn’t. Break her heart and I’ll break your face, Dom or not.

  Everyone was still entranced by the showdown, but for what I had planned, I didn’t need any pair of prying eyes. This was between Maggie and me, and we were going to have it out, my way. Alone, naked, and in bed.

  “Back to your business, everyone,” I called out loudly, waiting for the crowd to disperse. I expected Maggie to bolt, but as usual, she didn’t do what I assumed she would.

  Turning back to my little sub, and interjecting myself into her personal space, I lifted her chin and waited for her eyes to lock onto mine before I delivered my low toned threat.

  “Now, little sub, I do believe you’ve earned yourself a punishment. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Maggie

  I knew he wanted an answer, but the intense emotions swirling around inside of my head and the intense lust swimming around inside my core prevented my mouth from moving and creating the vocal sounds needed to form any sort of words. To an extent, sure, I did agree with him. I had cursed at him, loudly, in the middle of his club. I had disrespected him, and made a fool out of us both. But on the other hand, he had hurt me. He had run me through the emotional gamut the week before, and all of that hurt had bubbled up and spewed out like verbal diarrhea.

  Even though Master Jackson had told everyone to go about their own way, I knew they were all giving me the side eye, waiting to see if I would follow his silent, and not so silent, commands. In my heart of hearts, I knew I needed to at least give him back the foothold he had lost at my tirade, so with a deep breath, and the last strength I could muster, I fell back to my knees and replied, “Yes, Sir. I deserve to be punished.”

  Just like that, the voices fell away. I didn’t mean the voices around the room. Most of the people around had murmured appreciatively at my open act of submission, I had been referring to the voices running rampant in my head over the past week. The silence was instantaneous and gratifying, and I felt as if the entire world had been removed from my shoulders. This was where I was meant to be. Kneeling before a man; not necessarily this man, but a Dominant male, all the same.

  Letting the tension fall from my frame, I relaxed into my pose. I didn’t know how long he would make me stay there, but I was prepared for the worst. So, when his hand came out just a few moments later in the same gesture as before, I wasted no time in placing my hands in his and allowing him to help me stand. This time, I didn’t let go. The warmth in his palm shot lightning bolts through me, heating up my skin in the most delicious of ways. My mind knew this was a terrible idea, but my body didn’t give a shit.

  When he leaned into me, his lips grazing my ear, a shiver ran through me that was both petrifying and completely obvious. It didn’t matter how angry I was at him for sticking his nose into my business, or how wound up I had been the last week, one whisper from him was enough to make me forget it and lose all my reasoning.

  “I’m impressed, my sweets. Let’s say we take you back to my room so I can reprimand you in private” he whispered seductively.

  “Yes, Sir,”
my voice came out, just barely.

  Gripping my hand a bit tighter, he pulled me in front of him, silently directing me to lead the way to the room in the back. I didn’t know if he was admiring the view, or if he was just blocking my escape route, but either way I wasn’t going to run. I was here for this, and I deserved what I was going to get. I just hoped that the end result wasn’t the same as last time. I didn’t think I could handle another storm out. Not from him.

  The walk to the back room seemed to take a century long, but it gave me plenty of time to think. I wanted to talk to the man. Find out what I had done wrong last time, so I didn’t do it again. I wanted to be a good submissive, but I needed to know what had caused the light switch to flip last week. The question sat on my tongue like a dead weight, imploring to be set free, begging to be asked and answered so my brain would shut back down, so the voices would disappear again. I knew I sounded crazy, but I felt, in that moment, that I was going a little bonkers.

  When we reached the door, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I spun around so fast, my heel stuck causing me to tumble forward, and into his waiting arms. In mere milliseconds, I could feel his erection pushing into my belly through his skin tight leather pants. I wanted to run my hands up and down it, and take it into my mouth and down my throat. I wanted all of the things that women all over the world wanted, but were too afraid of the social backlash to admit.

  “What did I do wrong?” I whispered, hoping my tiny voice reached his ears.

  “Well, for starters, you wore shoes that no one in their right mind would attempt to wear,” he answered back, clearly not understanding my question.

  I couldn’t escape the tear that fell from my eye. The pressure of wanting to please him was eating me up inside. I needed to know where I had screwed up. Maybe it really was my outward appearance. But if that were true, why would he be bringing me back again? Had I moved too much? Had I made too much noise. I was so new to this, I didn’t know the rules. I didn’t know his rules.