The snow was falling outside my window as I read Sigmund's latest text, fury boiling my blood so that I didn't even notice the cold seeping in from around the glass.
Chiara...Not even a fucking Mistress in front of my name anymore! ...I have met someone else and have moved in with her. She takes care of me and gives me what I need. I don't want to hear from you again.
He didn't even have the decency to tell me in person. No, he broke up with me with a fucking text. After all I did for him! I threw my phone down on the couch with enough force that it bounced off and hit the floor hard. I almost hoped I broke it I was so pissed. Then I dropped to the floor next to it and started to cry.
I'd been in New York for six months, and I had to admit that Brenden had been right about a lot of things. I had found a decent job within a week of reaching the city, and an apartment a week after that. The landlord had graciously let me lease it free for one month after showing him my first paycheck. Brenden had let me stay with them until I found my own place, but it had been extremely awkward. I still loved him with everything in me, and he loved his Angel the same way. She was completely devoted to him, and in the two weeks I stayed with them, I only saw him punish her once, and that was for being late getting home one night. She had come in the house fifteen minutes late and had instantly dropped to her knees at his feet.
"I'm sorry, Master!" she had sobbed. "I lost track of time again."
"What does that mean, Angelina?" he asked looming over her, his arms crossed over his chest and his belt in his hand. I had noticed he only used her full name when she was in trouble.
"The belt, Master."
"How many this time?"
"Two for every minute, Master," she whispered, and he had grabbed her arm and hauled her to his study. She had stripped naked, and then he had left the door wide open as he belted her over his desk. Maybe he thought letting me watch was a lesson for me, but I wasn't sure. I really thought that he just didn't care if I watched him stripe his wife's ass and thighs. Thirty times leather met flesh, and thirty times she screamed out the count. When he was finished, he left her there, sobbing as if her heart would break. She knelt by his desk for an hour, and then she stood up and walked to him as he sat on the couch watching the news. Again, she dropped to her knees at his feet, but then, he picked her up and set her on his lap. He said something to her that I couldn't hear, after which she let out another sob as she nodded, and then he had held her as she buried her face in his shoulder and cried. As he'd said on our way from West Virginia--forgiven and forgotten.
As I thought of Sigmund's text, I knew that I wanted what Brenden and Angel had. I wanted a sub who was devoted to me, who would do anything for me, and who thought the worst thing in the world was to disappoint me. I just had no idea how to find such a man. Brenden had taken me to Club Agalon, and I loved it, but even though I wore the blue wristband of a Domme looking for a permanent sub, none of the men wearing pink wristbands had interested me that much. Maybe it was because I'd still had Sigmund, or maybe it was because I compared all of them to Brenden, which was stupid. I didn't want a dominant male. I wanted a sub, and Brenden was the furthest from a sub that anyone could possibly be.
Just then, my phone chirped with another text. I almost didn't want to know who it was, but curiosity got the best of me, and I looked at it. When I saw that it was Brenden, I smiled.
Hey, girl, there's a play party at Club Agalon tonight at seven. It's going to be packed with unattached people, so I thought you might want to be there. Maybe you'll get lucky and find someone you could work with, or maybe you could just fuck a few people and pull yourself out of your depressing state of mind.
I texted him back.
Are you going to be there?
Almost instantly, he replied.
No. This is for singles only. I told you I won't cheat on Angel.
I know, Brenden. I wasn't suggesting that. Thanks for the tip. Maybe I'll go.
He didn't answer, and I decided to go. He was right. I was depressed, especially after Sigmund's text, and at the very least I could find someone to take me home and fuck me all night long. Maybe that someone would turn out to be the perfect submissive for me. Stranger things have happened. Besides, I had to get my mind off of Brenden.
It was only about three o'clock and a Saturday, and I quickly decided to make myself feel better by going shopping. I had sold my house almost immediately after leaving White Brook, and that money gave me a decent balance in my checking account. Brenden had given me the address of a shop that catered to our lifestyle, and I grabbed my keys, walked down the narrow steps to the street, and hailed a cab.
When it stopped in front of Emily's Bakery, I held in a laugh as I paid the driver. Standing in front of the shop, I could smell the breads and muffins from inside, and I took a deep breath, hoping that my friend wasn't fucking with me. I stepped inside to the sound of a bell above the door, and a woman in a white apron and cap stepped up to me.
"Hello! My name is Emily. May I help you with something?"
"Yes, please. My name is Chiara. Brenden Borget sent me." I really hoped she knew what I was talking about, and by the smile that spread across her face, I knew she did.
"How is Master Brenden?" she asked as she turned and walked toward the back of the shop. "I haven't seen him since he got married."
"He's doing just fine," I answered as I followed her. "He seems very happy with Angel."
"Angel? You're on first name basis with his slave? Do you know them well?"
I grinned. "I grew up with Brenden. I met him when we were both three years old."
"Really?" She returned my grin as she unlocked a door at the back of the kitchen. "I can't picture him as a three year old. Was he cute?"
"Adorable. Just like now."
"Master Brenden Borget? Adorable? Not exactly how I'd describe him." She opened the door, turned on the light, and gestured for me to enter the room beyond.
"No? How would you describe him then?" I asked as I passed her. My eyes went wide when I saw a fully equipped BDSM shop beyond.
"Gorgeous, delicious, intimidating." Her grin grew wider. "Dominating."
I cocked my head at her. "Okay, you have a point. He is all of that now, but when I look at him, I still see the scrawny little boy who used to push me on the swings."
"Scrawny, huh? Now that I definitely can't picture. I've seen the man bare-chested, and he is built! In more ways than one," she added with a smirk.
"Personal knowledge or rumors?" I asked as I wandered around the shop, looking for what I wanted.
"Personal knowledge. Brenden was not always so faithful to his slaves or anyone else he fucked. There were many times I was one of the women who shared him. I still dream of that cock," she sighed.
I just nodded since I did, too. Even with the play parties where I had ended up having someone fuck me, no one seemed to live up to my imagination as I pictured myself encased around Brenden's cock, which I had seen often in the two weeks I'd stayed with them. He certainly had no inhibitions about fucking his wife in front of me or anyone else. It seemed the more people watching, the more turned on he got. I was the same way, and I wanted to find a sub who would fuck me over a table at Club Agalon or eat me out in an elevator or finger me in the subway or a cab.
"So, what are you looking for?" Emily asked suddenly.
"Something that will show everyone at the club that I mean business."
"Looking for a sub?"
I shrugged. "Maybe eventually, but for now, just an exclusive one."
She stared at me for a long moment, and then she smiled. "I have the perfect outfit for you." She walked to a wardrobe as she said, "You're what, a size four?"
She laughed. "I've been doing this a long time." She reached in the wardrobe and pulled out a mass of black leather and fabric. "Here."
I took it from her and smiled as I studied it. There was a leather bustier with a thong bottom and cups that would display my tits nicely while still covering them. It had a spiked collar, and along with it were tight gloves that would almost reach my shoulders, and fishnet stockings. All in black, of course. Added to my stiletto heels at home, and it would be stunning.
"I'll take it," I said. "How much?"
"For an old friend of Brenden's? How does five hundred sound?"
It was more than I was expecting, but I nodded, pulled out my credit card, and handed it to her. She ran it through a portable reader and waited as the receipt printed. "Are you going to the party at Club Agalon tonight?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
She just shrugged as she put my purchase in a bakery bag. "I just know it's Brenden's favorite club, and I figured he might have told you about it, that's all."
"Well, thanks for everything, Emily, and wish me luck tonight." I held out my hand to her, and she shook it.
"Good luck, Chiara. I mean it. Everyone in this world should have someone special. Even us."
I nodded, and she led me out through the kitchen into the front of the shop again. I thanked her again and went outside to hail a cab.