Decadent Kane: A Taste of Thursday- His Demand part 3

Come enjoy a taste of Thursday, where I'm sharing a free story- one new part each week.

His Demand (part 3)

by Decadent Kane

Catherine's face burned with embarrassment. How could he be so brazen? He had swatted her, swatted her like a child! She yanked the front door open to The Hatter. Who the hell did he think he was? Not a soul inside had even tried to stop him or stand up for her. When the brisk night breeze blew between her legs, she realized her panties were wet. Shocked, she stopped. Why would it make her wet? Was she depraved in some way? No, she was normal. Evan, that man, there was something wrong with him, and with every other person in the damn bar. Anger renewed, she stormed to her car. She crushed the button on her key ring to unlock the door. It beeped at her and she pulled the door open, plopping down on the seat, and slammed it shut. He had no right. She should march back in there, demand to see the owner, and have him banned from the bar.

Her hands shook. There was no way she could face him again. It had been so difficult to do to begin with. She put the car in drive and left the parking lot. Thank God she'd only had one drink. Catherine immediately pictured her second drink spilling in slow motion over Evan. She pushed it far away from her thoughts, wanting to bury the image, the situation, the whole fucking thing in the darkest places of her subconscious.

Once she made it to her apartment, she parked and retreated swiftly to 1A on the bottom floor. It wasn't much but it was hers. She had a small table in the kitchen with two chairs, an old T.V. her father gave her when she moved into the apartment, a second hand couch, and a bed. Most of her clothes were neatly folded in the closet. Catherine shrugged out of her skirt and slinky top and was thankful to have a pair of comfy sweat pants and a clean tank top to put on.

Her mind drifted back to Evan. Deep down there was a reason she always went to The Hatter. People talked and supposedly there were people called Doms who hung out there. Guys or girls, she was told, who liked to take charge sexually, and sometimes even more. People Who enjoyed controlling someone else.

The idea both terrified and piqued her curiosity. She had hoped to maybe meet one. As she considered the night's events she realized she had, but the meeting had not gone how she'd expected. Her hope had been a little talking, flirting, maybe asking some questions. But Evan...she didn't have words. Again she moistened when she thought of the swat he gave her, in front of everyone. And his voice. When the man leaned in and started whispering devilishly into her ear, she had almost melted into him. Trying to control her body, she made herself angry. She didn't even know him. She shouldn't be turned on. If he could make her want him with his words and a little swat, what else could he do to her?

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