I pull the towel tighter around myself as nervousness sets in. He hasn’t spoken to me all day. I was mad at him and ignored the fact he wanted me in his office before my shift. Then I also avoided his text. I shut off my phone and pretended it had died. But I knew better. He’d retaliate. I felt good about it last night, but now I’m on high alert. I’ve been waiting for him to attack all day. “I need to get dressed for my shift.”
“Come here.” He ignores me.
Knowing that I can’t do the same to him, I walk over to stand in front of my husband and let go of the towel. My hands slap my bare thighs as my arms fall to my sides. It’s crazy how comfortable I am at him seeing me naked now. Another choice I didn’t have but am now used to.
He grabs a pair of black fishnet tights. These are different from the ones I usually wear. They don’t have the rhinestones on them. “Sit on the end of the bed. I’m going to dress you.”
This is new, but I expect Tyson to be this way—unpredictable. I sit down and lift my right foot off the floor. He kneels, sliding the rough material over one foot and then the other. He slowly moves them up and over my calves. Standing, he pulls me to my feet and continues pulling them up over my thighs, and when he makes it to my ass, I hiss in a breath. It’s still sensitive. He keeps pulling them up and over my stomach. They’re high-waisted and come up all the way to my belly button. I realize he didn’t let me put any underwear on first. I never wear fishnets without them. I have a feeling they’ll be rough against my pussy as I run around the club working, and that’s what he wants—all my attention between my legs.
He opens up one of the smaller boxes and removes a pair of black leather booty shorts. I place my hands on his shoulder while he helps me into them as well.
Turning, he zips them up the back, and I glance at my ass in the mirror on top of the dresser. Half my ass cheeks hang out of the bottom. They too are high-waisted—more than the ones I usually wear—and if you look close enough, you can see the belt marks on my ass.
He opens another box, and it’s a black silk corset. “Grab the dresser,” he orders, and I reach out, gripping the edge, wondering why my uniform isn’t what we normally wear.
He bends down and has me step into it, pulling it up carefully so as not to tangle the black nylon strings. Once he gets it in place, he starts tightening it. So much that it makes me whimper. “I won’t be able to breathe,” I say, flattening my hand across my stomach while he jerks my body back and forth as he laces it up.
Again, he ignores me.
Once done, he goes to another box and pulls out a pair of black Dior heels. They’re gorgeous. Platform style with at least a six-inch skinny heel. Bending down, he lifts one foot at a time, sliding them on.
“Tyson.” I grip his shoulders once they’re in place. “I can’t work in these all night.” Is he punishing me for last night? For ignoring him? God, I’d gladly bend over, remove my clothes, and let him spank my ass instead of having to serve in these tonight. But that’s the point of a punishment.
Standing, he goes over to the dresser and grabs what looks like black leather cuffs.
“What are those?” I ask him, confused.
He kneels once again, and I look down to watch him wrap the black cuff around my ankle, fastening the buckle in place. Then takes the skinny black leather strap underneath my shoes where the top of the arch meets the heel. He fastens it to the black leather cuff that is attached and wraps around my ankle.
My heart starts to pick up when he pulls a silver lock out of his pocket and slides through both straps where they meet on the outside of either ankle, securing the heels to my feet. “Tyson, I can’t—”
He stands, baby-blue eyes staring down at me and cutting my words off. “Tonight, you will willingly crawl to me, little darling.” I whimper, understanding what he means. “How long until you do, depends on you.”
He removes his cell and then undoes the choker from around my neck. Opening up the last box, he steps behind me where I can’t see what he’s doing. But seconds later, he wraps a thicker black leather choker around my neck. It forces my neck up and comes to a point at the top of my chest between my breasts, covering my entire neck is covered. I feel him fasten it and lock it as well. He lets my hair fall down to cover the back.
Placing his hands on my upper arms, he meets my eyes in the mirror. “I’ll see you soon.” He gently kisses my cheek and then exits the bedroom.
* * *
By the timeI make it down to the club, my feet are already killing me. My calves burn, and my neck is sore. It’s hard to turn it from side to side. How the hell does he expect me to work like this?
He doesn’t.That’s the point. He wants me to abandon my shift and crawl to him in his office.
“Someone’s in trouble.” Bethany laughs, looking me up and down.
She’s dressed in a black leather catsuit, but I notice she’s wearing platforms. Looking around, I see Beau dressed in black leather pants, a mesh black top, and cuffs around his wrists. It’s a theme night. BDSM. I knew about it. I overheard Starla talking about it last night, but thought it was for the customers, not the employees.
“You’ve already got two tables, Lake,” Beau informs me. His eyes drop to my tits. This corset has them shoved up to my fucking neck. My chin can practically rest on them. Then add the collar I’m wearing. They definitely can’t be missed. “VIP is going to be crazy tonight,” he tells me.
Bethany was about to walk away with her tray, but she pauses. “I have VIP,” she states.
“No.” He nods to me. “Lake does.” He places a glass of what looks like a mixed drink next to my tray and nods behind me. “Table twenty asked for this. He hasn’t paid for it yet.”
“No, she doesn’t.” Bethany slams her tray down on the edge of the bar. “I do.”
He rolls his eyes and rips the schedule off the back wall, placing it down in front of us. I bite my bottom lip. Sure, as fuck. Tyson must have changed it sometime today and gavin me VIP.
“What the fuck, Lake?” she snaps, turning her angry eyes on me. She looks like she wants to hit me with her tray.
