Angels love BDSM, too
The man in question walked quickly toward her and she stifled a desire to step back. “Is everything all right, little one? And how did you get in here? Actually, who the hell are you?”
What does a human person do when faced with such a barrage of questions, she wondered?
“Um, Angel—la. My name is Angela.” Well, sort of. It will do.
Morgan smiled and Angela’s knees nearly buckled. God, he is so gorgeous.
“Well you certainly look like an angel in that dress. It’s not the usual gear people wear to my club, but I guess you are here for the fancy dress party later?”
“Ah, yes. That’s right.” Phew, close shave. She wished she could get out of the dress. Her body might now be soft and pliable, but the white dress she was wearing was covered in a horrid, rough, lace that was so stiff it could be used to fence a house. She surreptitiously ran her fingers under the neckline of the dress which was cut in a V to her breasts and then saw his eyes dart to her cleavage so she quickly removed them.
Morgan smiled. “Shame. I haven’t seen anyone in here for a long time that is so alluring and adorable as you.”
He laughed. “Yes you, little angel.” He stepped closer and enclosed her in his arms. She shivered. Not because she was cold, but because his warm arms around her waist set off a chain reaction through her body. “So how about it? Will you miss the party and join me in my private room instead? I promise you I can show you as good a time, or even better.”
Holy shit. The man of her dreams had propositioned her.
She nodded. Very rapidly.
His head went back as he laughed harder. “I take it that means you are willing.” He sobered. “But first I have to ask if this is your first time in this club, or any similar club.”
Angela grinned. “Oh I can say wholeheartedly this isn’t my first visit to this club.”
Morgan frowned. “Really. I haven’t seen you in here before.”
Panic went through her. “You probably have but just never noticed me before.”
He raised a hand to run his knuckles over her cheek. “Oh I would have noticed someone like you.”
“It’s the dress. It makes me stand out,” she gabbled quickly, hoping the excuse would suffice.
“Hmm, well, I certainly won’t miss you again after this.”
As she breathed a sigh of relief that he believed her, but felt cold when he dropped his arms from her body. However, she bit her lip in trepidation, and excitement when he took hold of one of her arms propelling her swiftly through the room to a door on the other side. She had spent every day throughout advent to twelfth night these last few years facing that door and knew full well that it was the room through which Morgan took his women. Only, she didn’t know exactly what went on in there. She could only guess. And her thoughts were running amok now with images of what might happen. Things she had only dreamed of and never thought would happen to her.
Morgan opened the door and she stepped forward, eyes wide open with curiosity. In one corner was a piece of equipment she knew was called a spanking bench. And in another was a four poster bed. The third corner held a huge soft easy chair. She looked around the edge of the door. In the last corner there was a cabinet, the doors of which were closed.
She felt arms wrap around her waist and a chin against her ear as he whispered, “This is my private room, Angela. In here you will obey my every whim. If you don’t like what I am doing then your safe word is ‘Christmas’. But if you say it then we stop everything and you leave. Do you understand?”
“Oh yes.” She certainly did, and she had no intention of stopping anything. She only had him for eight hours, well, seven hours and however many minutes had passed. She was going to make the most of this time.
“Good girl. Now how do I get you out of this predicament?”
“I beg your pardon?” What? Was he on to her already?
“This dress. There isn’t any zip.”
She giggled. “Oh. You can pull it up over my head.”
Gathering the many folds of the three quarter length dress he managed to get it off in one movement. “My, my. Who’d have thought the beautiful angel would be naked underneath.”
Angela laughed nervously. “Who indeed?”
She stood still in her white four inch heels while Morgan deposited the dress to one side and walked around her, his eyes running up and down her body. She hoped he would find her attractive and resisted the urge to cover her body.
His voice, when he spoke, was husky. “Now that is one stunning body.”
Morgan shook his head. “I can’t believe you don’t know how lovely you are.”
It was Angela’s turn to shake her head. Was this really happening to her?
“And I don’t want to mar your perfect skin. Are you sure you’ve done this before?”
“Oh please do.” She bit her lip hard not wanting it to end before it had started and bit so hard she drew blood.
He smiled and lifted a thumb to wipe the blood away. “I’m supposed to be the one doing the hurting.”
Angela trembled at the gentle touch of his thumb. If humans felt these sensations she was going to die when she had to go back to being an angel again and not feel anything when people handled her.
She put those disturbing thoughts to one side as he led her over to the bed.
“Oh, I thought you would spank me.”
Morgan threw his head back and laughed. “You are certainly not very submissive. A spanking is supposed to be a punishment for misdemeanors and not to be taken lightly, young miss.”
Angela sighed and hung her head. Morgan raised her chin and looked her in the eye. He had very blue eyes. Lighter than she thought they would be, almost grey.
“I will decide when, and if, you need punishment. Now, get on the bed, please.”
A thrill went through her. Oh, she could happily forego the BDSM for sex. She had a momentary pang wondering if her human body would be virginal, but who better to give it to.
Hopping onto the bed she lay back in the center wondering what position he wanted her in and nearly yelped when a splash of candle wax dripped onto her stomach.
“Uh uh. Stay exactly as you are. In fact reach up and grab hold of the spindles in the headboard.”
Angela did as he asked biting her lip again as she waited anxiously for him to drip more was on her. She had seen it done before and wondered how people could take it. Didn’t it hurt?
She soon knew the answer to that as Morgan slowly dripped the wax up her body from her stomach getting closer and closer to a nipple. Each drop she jumped and resisted saying, “Ouch,” as it didn’t really hurt. Well, not much. And only for a second. But how would it feel on somewhere like a person’s nipples?
“Almighty Father,” she cried. It was a pinprick of hot pain and then it was gone. Morgan smiled, put the candle down and then leaned over her rubbing the wax into her breasts.
Now she really was in Heaven.
Have a lovely Christmas and come back on Thursday for Part Three!