Grant's Gambit

By Gabbi Black

Mistress Miranda, after one of her most magnificent BDSM scenes, plans to relax and unwind in the safety of her luxury condo, high above her beloved city of Vancouver. She has rules about how intimate she'll be with a submissive, and she plans to stick to those edicts.

 

Grant Adkins willingly submitted to the formidable Domme tonight. And she'd topped him in a fantastic cathartic scene. But he's not ready to call it a night just yet. He's breaking the rules by following her home, but he wants to have just one more encounter. Then he'll let her go.

But when things heat up, his walking away in the morning feels far more difficult than either planned.

Grant's Gambit is a 10k dark, erotic, billionaire BDSM short story with a cathartic scene, holiday cheer, and a surprise pile of money.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gabbi Black
• Release date: Jan 19, 2024
• ISBN: 9781998053186

Book preview

Chapter One

Mistress Miranda

Club Kink’s house music beat a steady rhythm through me as I carefully laid out my instruments of torture on the table near the St. Andrew’s Cross that was a few feet from the wall, in the floor-space's corner.

Well, torture to some, pleasure to others.

I could wield a whip in a way that could make a submissive sing in pleasure or writhe in agony.

Could go either way.

Tonight, though, was about pain.

I eyed the naked man kneeling before me.

You asked for this.

Grant Adkins was a singularly unique individual. He’d started coming to Club Kink about a year ago. After getting the lay of the land, he began approaching Tops. He didn’t care about the gender of the Top. No, he chose the people who could inflict the most pain.

He’d caught my notice, of course.

I laid my coiled whip next to my cherry-wood paddle.

He hadn’t approached me.

I’d bidden my time.

As a professional Domme, I had a large bevy of clients keeping me busy.

Master Dante also frequently tapped my talents for the BDSM club he ran. Whether teaching classes, doing demonstrations, or mentoring others, I had my hands full.

Grant’s body appeared completely relaxed while in the submissive’s pose.

I’d have him writhing pretty damn soon.

Or not.

We had all night.

Dante arranged for us to have this corner of the main room for the evening. Although he liked to keep things moving—keeping the show interesting for the patrons—he also understood that some scenes would require several hours of intense work.

Unless you break Grant in the first five minutes.

I had to concede the point.

We’d negotiated a catharsis scene. At his initiation. The negotiations that took place afterward had been pretty intense because I wasn’t convinced—him having only been around for a year—that he knew what he was getting into.

He maintained he did.

The discussion had lasted over three hours.

We came to an understanding.

And here we were.

A spotlight shining down encompassed both the cross and the kneeling man by my feet. Standing, he was tall, broad, muscular, and sleek. I’d seen him naked many times. And he always chose complete nudity. And tonight, as often happened, his cock showed some definite interest in the proceedings.

Sounds of other scenes filtered through—impacts, cries—sounds of pleasure and sounds of pain.

I intended to elicit both from him tonight.

You may rise.

He did. Gracefully. Without his hands touching the ground.

Even in my younger days, I couldn’t have pulled that off, and although forty-one wasn’t old, I was experiencing a bit more stiffness in the morning.

Yoga and a treadmill helped me limber up for the day, and I’d done plenty of stretching before coming here tonight.

Against the cross. Facing the wall.

Without meeting my gaze, he bobbed his head, then headed to the station. He stretched his arms out and grasped the polished wood. His dark-brown hair shone in the light, and his muscles bunched, then relaxed.

Enjoy it while you can...

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