Queen of Love

Aya was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize when the show ended. Not until the clapping resumed and the couple left the stage. Genevieve stretched her body out long. She was definitely falling out of her dress now, and her look almost dared Aya to reach down and cover her up with nothing but a warm hand.

Maybe later. Aya would rather they not call too much attention to themselves. Not until she knew more about the people in the room and what they thought of Genevieve. She may be one of the owners, but that doesn’t mean I get as many privileges as she says I do. Genevieve’s world may be more in your face with each other than Aya was used to, but she wasn’t about to dive deep into it.

“You know…” Genevieve climbed the length of the couch, her chest right in Aya’s face. “I could get us a room right now.”

“Are you thinking about me treating you to some of that?”

A mischievous look flashed in Genevieve’s eyes. “Pull me back there by my collar, would you?”

“You get us the room. I’ll think about what I want to do to you.”

Genevieve was like a schoolgirl about to head off to a concert when she wiggled off Aya’s lap and announced she would be right back. It gave Aya room to breathe, at least.

“Here.” A familiar face soon appeared before Aya. She rubbed her eyes to see Terry, the red fabric of her blouse hanging loosely from her arms as she held a shot of liquor in front of Aya’s face. “I was told you needed this.”

Aya immediately smelled sa-ke from a mile away. Not what she would have picked for herself in a Taiwanese bar, but stereotypes may have been at play. “Excuse me?”

“My girlfriend told me to bring this over to you as soon as Genevieve left. Don’t worry. It’s not like… spiked.”

Aya took the shot of sa-ke. To Nyla’s credit, it smelled of high quality. Way better than the stuff Aya usually picked up for her I had a bad day nights at home. “If I have your word of honor that your girlfriend the bartender isn’t trying to poison me.”

“Did Genevieve tell you they used to go out yet?”

“Un.” Aya tipped the drink into her mouth and swallowed it immediately. The rice alcohol was light and crisp enough to be inoffensive in a shot, but Aya wished she had the chance to enjoy it with a nice meal instead of taking a shot in a sex club. “I figured it out,” she croaked while her throat remembered to burn.

“You’re already smarter than me. I had to find out the hard way.” Terry turned around. “I did my job. Good luck.”

People here are weird. It was like they all knew a different Genevieve from Aya, who still saw her girlfriend as someone as normal as anyone else. Hell, she’s better. Aya was used to stuck-up rich people who wanted to buy up half of Tokyo for their own financial gains. Then here came Genevieve Liu, with her fantastic fashion and bright, feminine face. Finding out she was into kink was fine and dandy when the sex was still spontaneous and amazing. Yet Aya was quickly realizing that more was still expected of her.

Genevieve returned after Terry was long gone. “I got us the room at the end.” She took Aya’s hand and helped her off the couch. “It’s not the biggest, but it has all sorts of things I can use to train you.”

Aya hesitated before taking another step. “Is that why you brought me here?” she drolly asked. “To train me to be your Domme?”

“I promised I would, didn’t I?”

That pouting face and voice were enough to make Aya follow her out the room, down the hall, and into another darker, slimmer hall barely illuminated with anything but cool blue bulbs that helped patrons find their assigned rooms and nothing more.

God, what have I gotten myself into?

It wasn’t that Aya didn’t want to make Genevieve happy. If anything, she loved the idea of going into a room and covering her with the kind of carnal kisses that revved a woman up until she took off to the stars. Getting a little rough? Saying the kind of dirty shit that would be banned on TV? Asserting herself until Genevieve was calling her Mistress Aya instead of Miss Aya? Yeah. That was hot.

Aya simply didn’t know if she was ready for a BDSM 301 lesson that went from handcuffs to intricate knots, and taps on the ass to full-blown paddling. The kind that wouldn’t land someone in the hospital. That’s how I’m gonna get deported from half of Asia. Aya could see it now. Her claim to infamy.

Genevieve showed her into their room, which was as dark as the hallway. One soft white light turned on in a corner, but it was the trademark blue, pink, and purple of Paradise that brought Genevieve to the protected mattress in the middle of the room, where she flung herself back on her arms and opened her legs.

“I’m all yours, Ms. Aya,” she purred.

Aya would admit it was one of the hottest things she had ever seen: Genevieve – her Genevieve – sprawled across the bed with her hair loose and her dress coming apart. She was already half-drunk on love and completely lost in the high of lust. Something about that show, if not the environment of a club she had cultivated to her own tastes, had turned her sexuality up to a hundred. I can’t lie. It turns me on. This woman was offering to become Aya’s plaything. Shit, it’s what she wanted!

“There’s so much I could do to you,” Aya said, keeping her distance by the closed door. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Where do your fantasies take you?”

“Where do they take you?”

Genevieve shimmied out of one of her sleeves. Yup. Fashion tape, my ass. That was a breast if Aya had ever seen one, and she had seen Genevieve’s several times now.

“Whatever you do to me,” she said, pulling her skirt up to her thighs, “I want to feel the dirtiest I’ve ever felt before. Use me up like your tissue.” She sat on the edge of the bed, easing herself down onto the floor with nothing but her hands and knees. “Command me to undress you and serve you. Anything you want. That’s my fantasy.”