Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Very different than when I’d seen her last, sweat soaked and makeup smeared beyond repair.
And her lips. God, her glossy fucking lips. So full and pink. I couldn’t wait to see them swollen again from my attentions. Everything about her seemed fresh and clean, and I swore I could smell her baby powder-scented perfume from here. One would think the last thing I’d find Ivy was innocent and pure after what I’d done to her, but I did. There was an artlessness about her, an honest joy in life that many people lost after childhood.
Her mischievous spirit, her spunk, her wicked imagination—all of these things blended together into a glorious and confusing mix of a woman.
A chime sounded in the hallway and from the speaker in the corner of the room, reminding everyone class started in five minutes. People took their seats, and while I considered asking one of the people sitting by Ivy to move, I didn’t want to create a scene. I knew the Dominatrix teaching this class, and the last thing I wanted to do was piss her off.
After all, I was already on her shit list.
If Ivy hadn’t been here, there was no way I would have attended.
Mistress Susan must have laughed her butt off when she approved my addition to the class.
She stood around six feet tall in heels, had an amazing natural hourglass figure, and was one hell of a sadist. With red hair shorn into a buzz cut and almost cat-like blue eyes she was, without a doubt, a beautiful woman. Unfortunately, I’d pissed her off the first week I’d started working here and she’d held a grudge ever since. The shibari artist she’d wanted to come teach at the Ranch had asked for way too much money for three simple classes. Yes, he was amazing at what he did, but it was my job to find talent that was both skilled and affordable. He wouldn’t come down on his price, and we simply could not afford to blow a quarter of our budget on one man.
Even if he was a personal friend of Mistress Susan.
We were sponsoring more scholarships to our college than ever, and every dollar I could save could help someone have a better life.
Ivy took her seat as well, two rows away from the raised platform at the front of the room. We were on the second floor, and the late afternoon sunlight poured in through a row of windows on the west side of the room. That light caught Ivy’s hair and it blazed in a way that had me entranced. Then she leaned forward so she could talk to the brunette woman with big white hoop earrings in front of her. I thought it was the same person who’d been sitting next to Ivy in our last class together, and I leaned forward into the aisle to get a better look.
“Excuse me, Mr. Sterns, do you mind moving so I can teach my class?”
Embarrassment had my cheeks going heated, no doubt much to Mistress Susan’s amusement.
“Sorry about that, Mistress Susan,” I said as I swiftly moved back into my seat.
I leaned back and looked up at her, towering above me as I was seated. She wore a pair of wicked-looking tan patent-leather heels. They went well with her tan 80s-style belted dress that showed off her tiny waist and impressive cleavage. Large pearl studs graced her ears but her nose was missing the usual septum piercing. Behind her trailed her submissive and boyfriend, Tyler, dressed in a preppie green sweater and tan pants. His light-brown and silver hair had been feathered back, and it looked like he’d grown a mustache since I’d last seen him. I thought it made him kind of look like my sixth grade science teacher. He gave a rueful shake of his head as he passed, grinning the whole way. No doubt he found it hilarious to watch me get my butt chewed by Susan. We’d had more than one beer together, and I liked the funny man and his easygoing nature.
Why he was attracted to a bitch like Susan I’ll never know, but he was so I had to be respectful to his Mistress. And I was in her classroom, taking a class she was more than qualified to teach. The rules were very clear that it didn’t matter if you were a Dominant, submissive, or whatever. The instructors or professors were the ones who had the power to boot you from their class instantly, no questions asked.
Knowing Mistress Susan expected more of an apology than the one I’d given, I inwardly sighed and said, “Forgive me for not noticing when a lady has entered the room.”
That mollified her, a little bit, and she dismissed me with a sniff then strolled past me. “Do try to pay attention, Caleb. There is much you could learn from this class on self-control.”