Page 4 of Cookie: Part One
I sigh at the depressing thought and unzip my bag.
“Whatever. Let’s just get dressed!” I hype myself up because it’s time for my ultimate monthly release on crack. And bitch I can’t explain it, but I’m desperate for it this time… I don’t know how I’ve become such a sex addict since dating Alik, but God!
It’s like I want it all the time… the amount of vibrator motors I’ve worn out from my sex drive is asinine, but I’ve been keeping it in check. But this time, fuck all that keeping it in check shit. I’m doing it big and going all the fuck out! Even if I can’t have that in a man… I can at the very least have it for one day.
I shuffle around some things and pull out the custom number that I had made especially for this night!
I figure if I’m going be walking around with the big dogs, I need to come correct and I can’t be strutting about in store bought lingerie… I need something to set me apart, and while it cost me a shit ton, this set is guaranteed to get me lucky tonight.
With the utmost haste, I jump run my ass to the bathroom and run myself a bath… but not just any bath. I pull out my entire toiletries bag of full-sized products and take an hour-long bubble bath followed by a shower.
I don’t need to worry about shaving. I waved all that shit right the fuck off before my trip. A bitch wanted to be smooth as a petal in water. I instead focus on exfoliating thoroughly and soaking so I can smell good and re-the-fuck-lax.
After soaking in the Epsom salt bath to ensure my muscles are warmed up for the gymnastics they are about to be doing, I dothe thing I hate the most which is ensure I’m cleaned out in the back. Even though I’ve never had anal before and it’s not something I’m ready foryet…I always like to make sure my ass it clean in case whoever my partner is for the night might like to lick it or tongue fuck it.
After I hop out, I moisturize with some rose-scented edible coconut oil to so when my Dom licks me from the rooter to the tooter, he’s not tasting nothing but ass and coconuts! Finally, I quickly change, making sure to be careful since it’s so delicate.
Once I’m done wresting with it, I glance down, and a strange mix of dread and arousal hit me. The color is the deepest shade ofblood-red, a luxurious, almost black crimson that compliments my rich dark skin. The main piece, astructured bodysuit, built like a cage of silk and mesh. I can feel the stiffboningcinching my waist, pulling my body into a dramatic hourglass shape that feels thrillingly powerful and sexy.
The satin panels covering my stomach are smooth and cool, a striking contrast to the sheer, ornatelacerunning on my bust. It’s the kind of intricate, expensive lace that screams “I want to be taken.”
My gaze travels to the accessories. Around my throat, thevelvet lace chokerI got from the club with my nickname, Cookie, on the tag, feels like a silent promise, that I WILL be claimed tonight. And then the stockings… they are thick, dark crimsonthigh-highs, patterned with a heavy floral lace that leaves little to the imagination. The adjustablegarter strapsconnect them tautly to the bodice, a visible and functional detail that makes mefeel utterly exposed, ready to be taken and put to good use for whoever will pick me up.
But I can’t help but chuckle because if Alik saw me in this, he would probably have a heart attack.
He’s so adorable, and God I wish he was my type, but… my belly dips and my mouth waters thinking about what could be in store for me. I’m so ready to the point I’m buzzing, and I can’t wait any longer. I grab my trench coat, throw it on, and tip toe out of the room, heading out to the car waiting on me outside.
“Good evening, Miss. Vhere are vee heading?” the kind older Russian asks and I shyly hand him my phone with the address that came in an encrypted email yesterday. I expect him to make a face or something, but he simply nods and enters the address into the GPS. “Very vell.” He nods and turns, driving off with not one question, not even starting small talk, which my nerves can appreciate.
I watch the estate disappear and the lights of the city flash and recede, the polished leather of the backseat feeling like a sleek cage. I fist my knuckles tight as I grip the hem of the coat, the only thing keeping me sane in this crazy ass moment.
The drive was a blur of impatience and anticipation until the car finally slows to a stop. The driver hops out and opens the door, leaving me to get out on shaky legs.
“Will you be needing a ride back, Miss?” the driver asks, looking at the old building in question. I’m not going to lie… so do I, but I know this is Pleasure Palace’s MO. They keep things discreet.
“Yes, will it be too much to wait here?” I ask and he nods.
“I’m your personal escort, Miss. I can vait all night… it vill be a pleasure.” He smiles, and I sigh, knowing I’m going to miss this treatment when I go back home.
“Thank you, then can you please wait?”
“Da. Just call vhen you’re ready.” He nods and pulls over to where the traffic controller tells him as I walk over to the entrance.
“Invite number,” the big burly Russian man speaks without an ounce of kindness.
“908654,” I repeat the number that I memorized by heart and hand him my invite for him to look over.
“Collar.” He looks up, and I bite my lip, embarrassed, but I pull my trench coat down to show the red collar. He takes out a scanner and after a quiet beep, the device shows my member headshot as well as the rest of my information.
Name: Cookie
Membership #: 908654
Role: Submissive
Safe word: Snow globe
Age: 26
