The Submission of Amelia
Part I
She sat at the bar, swirling the swizzle stick in her mostly water rum and coke, idly viewing the crowd. Amelia had come here with one intent, to find someone, take them home, and fuck their brains out. No one seemed to jump out at her as a potential candidate for a night of kinky debauchery. She picked the drink up and quickly swallowed it down, throwing a five on the bar and waving a vague goodbye in the general direction of the attractive bartenders in lingerie and tiny thongs behind the bar.
She checked her pockets as she stood, making sure her cash and ID were still where she left them and started making her way through the writhing, throbbing, lust-crazed crowd on both the dance floor and surrounding table. She looked down for a moment, her forward momentum stopped by an awfully hard, brick wall. Startled, she gasped and looked up into the greenest eyes she'd ever seen, the wall belonging to the chest of well-chiseled man, dressed in a blue button-down shirt. The top two buttons had been freed, showing a mass of dark, curly hair peeking out above the v-line.
Clearing her throat, she looked him dead in the eyes, "Excuse me, I wasn't paying attention." She murmured, going to move around him before he could speak. Before she could complete her hasty departure, a thick hand wrapped around her arm, just above her elbow stopping her in her tracks.
"You should pay more attention to where you're going," he said, his voice like silken butter, melting over her in a rush.
"I've apologized," she sighed out. "What more would you like from me?" She said, glaring into those startling green eyes.
"Well," he said, his gaze intent, seeming to burn to the center of her. "You could start by letting me buy you a drink." It wasn't a request, it was a command, one that sent shivers through her body.
"Sorry," she said, almost defiantly, knowing he wouldn't like her dismissal, but he was the first interesting person she had seen in the club that evening and she wanted to see how far this could go. "I've had my limit and I was just getting ready to leave." She tried to free her arm, but his grip was tight, and he wasn't going to let her go. "Could I have my arm please?" She asked, the saccharine sweetness dripping from her tongue.
He looked at her and smirked, "No, I don't think so," he said, pulling her toward a corner table, the lights very low in that area of the club, a lot of privacy ensured by its location.
"Seriously, let me go, I am not interested." Her voice said the words but there was little conviction behind them, she could hear by the smirk in his next words that he'd seen right through her.
"Oh, you are very interested, and I think I might just be what you've been looking for all night." He pushed her gently into the alcove of the table, sliding in next to her, signaling one of the scantily clad waitresses over. "What are you drinking?" he asked, "and you better tell her, or I will order something for you." His words only a minor threat.
"Rum and Coke, top shelf only, the most expensive rum you have in stock," she said, her own smirk playing on her lips. If he wanted to play this game, she could to.
He nodded to the waitress and placed his own order for a very high-end scotch, before shooing the waitress off. He looked at her, a bit like a tiger looks at its prey before leaning in and brushing his lips over her ear. His tongue tracing the shell of her ear, his breath hot as she felt him exhale. He whispered "so, pretty girl, what is your name?" his silken voice sending chills down her spine, she jerked her head free of his and glared at him.
"Amelia, my name is Amelia," her glare not nearly as potent as she hoped for. "What is your name, might as well know so I can tell the police who held me against my will." She smirked.
"Well, pretty little Amelia, can call me Sir." Was his simple response.
Amelia scoffed, then looked at him again, "not likely buddy." Her stomach sinking a bit, she may have bitten off more than she could chew running into the hard, lean man. "Your name?"
"The only name you will get for now is Sir, we'll see if you're a good enough girl to get more than that," he said, his voice crashing over her like a wave. He moved and that's when she saw the waitress had returned with their drinks. He took them, handing Amelia her drink before taking a sip from his own. "So, Amelia, tell me what brings you out to this lovely club this evening?" He set his glass down, turning to her his hand finding her knee and stroking up her thigh to the edge of her short miniskirt. "What is a beautiful, good girl like you doing somewhere like this?"
She shivered as the words 'good girl' swirled around her, did this man have a sixth sense about her need, her nature? "I came to find someone to take home and fuck if you must really know," she bit out, taking a sip of her drink, the liquor burning her throat as it trailed to her belly, only increasing her internal heat.
