My fingers tremble at my sides, brushing against the material of Ezra's white robe. My muscles bunch clenching and jumping under the skin of my body. He sighs a deep soul-satisfying sound and curls into my arms tight, winding his arms around my neck tighter. His lips ghost over the thudding vein of my neck, brushing with every inhalation he takes. I look down at him at the tuff of blackened waves, silken to the touch. I had never noticed his height before, how he only came to the tip of my chin.
"Mistress," He mumbles. A hum of acknowledgment filters past my lips and my arms wind-up around his skinny torso, clenching holding tight. "I've been waiting for you, I thought you weren't coming." He pouts, casting his eyes to the ground soft and sweet. I loosen one of my arms gripping the underside of his chin to tilt his head up to meet my stare. Even with the elevation, he keeps his eyes cast away like a good boy. I thumb across the bottom of his eye and the boy groans pressing in closer.
"Ama'Rose," He says next nuzzling at my cheeks, sultry smile still plastered to his face. "Oh, how I missed you terribly." He pulls away after much hesitation, smiles and then pivots flouncing back towards the circular cushion. He leans over the backrest and retrieves a silver box.
"No Ezra." Noma hisses folding her arms across her breast, she shakes her head and the hold Ezra has on the box clenches. The wrapping contorts crinkling.
"I'm allowed to gift her." Ezra's eyes darken and this deep frown forms on his face. He looks towards me then down at the box. Noma steps between the space we've made, and she plants her well-manicured hands on the swell of her hips. She steels her expression.
"I know what's in that box hun, in fact, I'm one-hundred percent sure we all know what's in that box. You know the rules shug, and Mistress Buchanan specifically said—"
"I know what she said!" He whines. The box jostles in his hand as he tries to side-step around Noma, but the woman blocks his path with a stern twist in her lips.
"Out of my way Noma, I asked Mistress Buchanan and she said I could. Mind your own business," He tries to move to the other side, but Noma is relentless and by the look on her face, she's not convinced either. I want to know what's hidden in the box. It is only fair right? Everyone knows except for me and if it's a gift, well obviously I'm not going to decline it. "Noma."
"That's not how the rules of the housework and you know it. You can't just force that on her. Patience is virtue, Ezra." He finally shoves past her taking root behind my body. I can see him glaring at Noma from over my shoulder. He presses against my back and the box digs unforgiving into my skin.
"It's my gift to give to her, and in return, she'll bestow it to me," He reaches up planting a soft kiss to the underside of my jaw fluttering his eyes. "Here." Noma frowns whispers something to the others and then she's storming out the room slamming the doors shut.
"You're in trouble now Ezra, Noma's going to tell on you."
"Shut up William I got permission and that's all that matters." The box is pushed into my hands, medium weight and grounding. I shake it gently and a loud thunking noise fills the room. Ezra chuckles cheeks flaring red and a nervous twitch in his legs. He waits impatiently for me to open the box.
"You're so backwards," William scoffs. "what if she wanted to pick? And now that won't hold any sentimental value. How is that even possible? A submissive giving their own—" Ezra grunts and places a delicate hand against my shoulder. Leans in close to my ear to brush the lobe with his lips.
"Go on and open it." I slowly peel the lid of the box away peeking in. Reaching into the darkness of the box, I feel my fingers brush against firm leather and satin cloth. I wrap my fingers around the object and gently remove it from the box; the silver box clatters as it falls to the floor. The object which is left behind leaves me breathless, weightless. A collar about as thick as my index and middle finger combined, adorned with embroidered stitching and a small hoop.
I've seen many collars made from a multitude of different materials, mostly the cheaply made ones in local malls and from online ads. But this one was one of luxury. Nicely crafted and made from genuine leather. God, this must have cost a fortune. I rotate the leather in my hand and the hoop jingles against the metal plaque. I rub the pad of my thumb against the buckles on the collar and then I unlatch the strap.
"Nice hmm? He purrs. "When I saw it, I knew it was meant for you, for us. What do you think about it?" Never in my life have I heard about a submissive presenting their own chosen collar to their dom. I clench the leather and it bites into the meat of my palm. The boy soothes over the tightness of my hands and then bounces around me grabbing my arms with a sparkle in his eyes, awaiting what? Appraisal? Approval? I'm not too sure I'm feeling either of those things right now.
Collaring a submissive is damn there considered engagement and right about now that is the last thing on my list.
"Don't you think this is moving awfully fast?" I ask thumbing over the collar again. The smile on Ezra's face slips and William snorts to himself mumbling a soft "cold feet". "I mean, I don't even have the proper training, don't you want to wait?"
"No, I don't and I can't stand to wait any longer. I wanted your collar ever since our meeting at Club Chasity. I just know deep down, you're special. So very very special." His eyelids hood and he leans in close enough that I feel the warmth of his breath.
"So special..." Noma chooses to burst back into the room fury singeing her veins and her dom presence suffocating. Funny how mine doesn't react to the on slaughter of hers, but just because mine doesn't press back, doesn't mean the others in the room are unresponsive. William arches his back, throwing his head back as a grutal sound rocks through his body. He bites his lip drawing blood. Ezra holds his ground, but he latches onto my t-shirt putting me in the direct path of Noma's anger and presence.
"Noma control yourself." William grits. She cuts her eyes towards the withering boy and reels herself in running her fingers through her hair with a sigh.
"Sorry sweet thing." She motions towards me and holds her arm out.
"Well I spoke with Ms. Buchanan, next time I'll mind my own," She locks eyes with me, her brown eyes dull and tired. "She told me to show you around and get you comfortable, set up in a room."
"She'll be rooming with me hun," Ezra says rubbing my shoulder with feathery fingers and deep words of promise. "I'll show her around."
"I'm her designated Dominatrix trainer, her senior. She will be under my wing, my supervision as stated in the contract. You will abide by my rules containing to her. She won't be rooming with you, she will take the spare room next to my own in the Dom wing. And I will be showing her around, do you understand?" Ezra clenches his jaw shaking so hard that it jostles my own body, his eyes down cast to floor in submission. But Noma doesn't just want submission, she wants an answer and an understanding that Ezra's been lacking.
"Do. You. Understand?" And he falls hard knees smacking against the floor body hunched into himself. He's gripping my legs tight as he forces out a sentence.
"Yes."
"Yes?" She eggs on.
"Yes, mistress." She swipes her pointed tips at me, and I detangles Ezra's hold from around my leg to shuffle over by her side. He whines at the lost rolling his head away from Noma's pointed heels, her nails painted gold to accent her dress.
"Come on let's get outta here." I follow her through the door and away from the growing presence of Ezra Wellington.
°♡°
"Sometimes I just want to take that boy right over my knee and tear him a new one," Noma says. Her heels click as we travel down the staircase and towards the back of the house. She takes me outside where the sun is beaming and the smell of freshly cut grass and flowery scents clog the nose. "An absolute menace." We cross through the garden and Noma drags her hands across flower petals and long skinny strands of leaves. We trek on until we come to another house, smaller than the main one we just left, but still bigger than the average home.
"This is the Dom's wing. We get our own section because sometimes we can be a bit overbearing," Noma laughs. "Across the way over there is shared housing of switches and Subs, but some of the switches do tend to house in our section occasionally, but only when their Dom presence makes a show."
"So, what do you guys do here. Just...I don't know, live?" She guides me through the kitchen of the house, stainless steels, and coppery looking pans. Everything is so shiny and clean. I wonder if the playgroup has maids, or if they do all their chores themselves.
"Heavens no, we do have a schedule we follow and a set of rules. Important rules that Ezra gives two shits for. Anyway, to sum it up, on weekends we all go to club Chasity to be flounced and shown off. If you're wondering why the playgroup wasn't there when you were last night. It's because we had to attend a Gala. The only reason why you met Ezra was because that stubborn boy refused to attend said, Gala. I thinks it is because Remi the French boy was there. Ezra gets so jealous sometimes." She leads me to the stairwell of red oak and we climb the stairs towards the left side of the house. We pass a few doors until she makes a final stop.
"Whose Remi?" She turns the doorknob and ushers me into the room.
"A male submissive S rank, he lives in Paris oh la la. Did you know a lot of the male subs live over in Europe? Anyway, between them there's a lot of bad blood going on with those two, some serious rivalry about being the worlds "greatest male submissive", if Mistress Buchanan takes you to one of her prestigious balls you'll for sure meet him." The room is large spacious and smells like lavender and rosemary. I sit on the silken sheets of the bed, running my feet through the long strands of the carpet. Noma walks in familiar with the room, travels over to the large bay window and throws the curtains back letting in the sunlight. The beams reflect off the white furniture creating a vibrant picture of pure wealth.
"I don't remember this room being so bland, maybe we can convince the lady of the house to provide more suitable furniture. More colors." I cross my legs and my bare thighs slide against each other. I wince when I realize I'm still in my pajamas from this morning.
"Do you have something I can wear?" Noma nods her head and then holds up her finger as she dashes from the room with her red dress flowing behind her. When she returns her arms are full of clothes and dangling hangers, she smiles and tosses the bundle onto the bed.
"Take your pick shug."