Drago

***

They met at a club, but it wasn’t the usual type of club frequented by university students.  Kara’s housemate, Denise, had guaranteed that she would meet a man who could show her the best that life had to offer, take her to the most expensive restaurants in the world, and show her the lifestyle of the rich, if not the famous.  When Kara opened the door to the Whitson Club, she was met immediately by a man in an Armani suit and led to the bar where Denise was waiting.

“What do you think?”

Kara looked around the room, her senses assaulted by the overwhelming aroma of colognes, cigars, and liquor.  “They’re older than my father,” she whispered.

“What did you expect?”

Kara shrugged and stormed off, sorry she had ever agreed to come, but she didn’t get very far before a man grabbed her by the arm.  “Kara, your friend was only trying to help.  I’m Grant.”

***

Kara flinched a little at the touch of his finger making its way down her arm.  He hooked the pearls at the back of her neck and led her up the stairs to his bedroom.  Behind the closed doors, he lay on the bed and ordered Kara to undress.  “Slowly,” he said.

Kara slid the zipper down in the black dress she wore and unclasped the lace bra.  “Look at me,” Grant commanded.  Kara looked into the dark brooding eyes of her master.  Yes, this man was her master whether she wanted to admit it or not.  He was her puppet master and when he pulled her strings, she danced for him.