Lover's Scare Contest-Eliza Gayle Submissive Beauty

Submissive Beauty
Eliza Gayle

Gabby turned her car down Franklin Street, and her anxiety soared to an all-new level. She’d gotten dressed per instructions and rushed out the door. A glance at the dashboard clock said ten minutes until her deadline, and she still wondered what the hell she was doing. Every possible scenario she’d imagined led to nothing but more questions.
What would Thomas do to her if she went through with this?

Surely he would touch her, but how far did he intend to push her in one night? Her mind raced with myriad possibilities as fear gripped her so tight she found herself strangling the steering wheel.

Get a grip Gabby. This is what you’ve been waiting and wishing for, isn’t it? A gamut of emotions coursed through her; fear, excitement, arousal, curiosity, and...her arms trembled...more fear. A bark of nervous laughter pressed through her lips. Angel had assured her repeatedly that nothing bad would happen to her, and that Thomas could be trusted with her safety.

She’d learned that he held a considerable position in the community and commanded a generous amount of respect from the members of the club. Those assurances had been enough for her to get this far, but as she searched the numbers on every mailbox in the dark, she considered giving up and returning home.

No one would think less of her if she wasn’t the right type for Thomas’s unorthodox demands. Who could blame her for wanting to get to know a man before letting him dominate her? Yeah, too late for that Gabby. Whether you like it or not, he’s been dominating you since you first heard his voice. Gabby sighed.

She spied the number three hundred and ten on a black mailbox encased in brick and quickly turned to the right into the drive. A wrought iron gate stood open as if awaiting her arrival. She slowly drove beyond it and up the winding drive. The house loomed in front of her, large and old. If this was indeed Thomas’s house, he had very expensive taste. She’d guess the stately brick home was built in the late 1800s and had been restored sometime in the last decade.

The few gaslights that were lit out front did little other than cast shadows across the footpath that led to the front door. Compared to her modest uptown townhouse she was way out of her league. She parked her car close to the walkway and strained to see through the inky darkness. No other cars were in sight.

She shook her head and banned the negativity from her mind. Just because she didn’t see any other vehicles didn’t mean they weren’t there. These houses typically had hidden garages around back.

Gabby took a deep breath and rested her forehead on the steering wheel for a minute, releasing the air one short puff at a time. If she didn’t calm down, she’d be shaking like a leaf by the time she got inside.

Get a grip, Gabby. You decided you’re going to do this so buck up already.

She stepped from the car and carefully balanced herself, wondering once again why she’d worn ridiculously high-heeled shoes. Because they’re pretty, that’s why. She walked to the front door and automatically reached for the doorbell. Lucky for her, she caught herself in mid-air seconds before she pressed the button. He’d said to enter the residence unannounced and proceed instead of waiting for an invitation to come in. She struggled with her social conditioning as she complied with his directions. Nerves jumped in her belly at the thought of walking into the wrong house and finding herself in more trouble than she could handle.

She opened it noiselessly and peeked through a crack in the door, half afraid someone would snatch her. Just inside she spied a long narrow foyer leading to what she presumed would be the living area. Gabby crept through the door and quietly closed it behind her. She tiptoed toward the back of the house, trying not to click her heels on the hardwood floor.

The room opened up into an inviting space filled with comfortable furniture and a large screen television as the focal point. Where she’d expected expensive antique furniture, she found a comfortable space that looked lived in, especially the large overstuffed couch that dominated the center of the room.

Gabby glanced at her watch and realized she had about thirty seconds to get in place, or she’d be late. She hustled over to the coffee table, set her purse and keys down and stepped to the end of the couch as instructed. Her body curved around the large rolled end as she wiggled into place—head down, ass up. Nervous didn’t begin to describe how she felt. She took a deep breath and lifted her skirt on the exhale. Cold air swept across her naked bottom causing goose flesh to erupt across her skin. Gabby squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to be afraid. She’d followed his instructions to the letter despite the fact entering a strange home, where she now had her bare butt and pussy exposed to anyone who walked into the room, was by far the craziest thing she’d ever done. She prayed it would indeed be Thomas who found her.

Minutes ticked by. She squirmed and fidgeted against the sofa, beyond restless and antsy. If she had a lick of common sense, she’d leave. Go back to her own house, her safe life and reconsider why this had seemed like a good idea. She should have her head--

A large, warm hand caressed her right butt cheek, sending a hard shudder up her spine. Gabby sucked in her breath. Her adrenaline spiked. She bit at her lip and strained for some sign that it was indeed Thomas who stood behind her and not a complete stranger or worse—a crazed maniac.

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