The Brat and the Master - a BDSM Erotic Novel by Aishling Morgan

bottle had been left open in a hot room for several days before being served. Too polite to comment, he put the glass back down.
    ‘Maybe you’re right,’ he told Mark. ‘I’ll go and have a look around.’
    A long balcony overlooked one side of the dance floor and he quickly climbed up to it, happy to admire the girls below from a better vantage point, and to avoid Steelhand’s company, but with no real interest in finding himself a new partner. Being allowed to play with Caroline gave him ample outlet for his more sadistic desires, while he occasionally got involved with other girls at clubs. An intimate relationship was sure to get complicated, and was very likely to spell the end of his carefree existence.
    The floor below him was thronged with people, perhaps five times as many as the largest of the venues he was used to. At least half were women, united only by their exotic and colourful costume, but one immediately stood out. She was in a wedding dress – no mere white outfit with a veil and a few frills added for effect, but the full, classic costume, in pure white. The wide skirts were supported by petticoats and decorated with silk roses, the waist cut to accentuate her tiny midriff and make the most of a pair of small, high breasts on coy display within the bodice. A full veil of white gauze covered her face, but it was pinned up, with a spray of flowers, into her hair – an abundance of hair, long and ash pale.
    ‘That’s Jasmine,’ Adam breathed, and he was immediately pushing his way back towards the stairs.
    As he made his way through the crowd he was telling himself that he must be mistaken, but he had to be sure. So he started across the dance floor, indifferent to those around him as he searched for her white veil among the sea of heads obstructing his view. She had been almost directly across the room when he’d seen her, and it took a moment to find her again, but when he did, all doubt was pushed from his mind. Now in a clear space beside the edge of the stage, she had moved her veil aside to take a pull from the bottle she held in one hand. There was no mistaking her elfin features, nor the mischief in her big, pale eyes, just as he remembered them from so many years before.
    He stopped, searching for the right words, and as he watched, she reached back, laughing, to gather up the train of her beautiful dress until she had a great mass of pure white silk bunched up in the small of her back. Her little pink bottom peeped out beneath, quite bare but set off by the tops of extravagantly lacy stockings and a pair of taut suspender straps. It was obvious that she had no panties on, and as she began to dance once more, making a deliberate display of her naked behind, two of the security staff were already bearing down on her.
    ‘Jasmine!’ Adam cried out as he started forward once more. ‘Jasmine, it’s me, Adam Tyler!’
    She seemed not to hear her own name and he wasn’t sure that she’d ever known his, but as she pulled aside the veil again, the look of surprise, delight and recognition on her face was unmistakable. Adam held his arms open and she came to him immediately, to cuddle up tight to his body and kiss him, open-mouthed and with an unrestrained passion to which he couldn’t help but respond, pulling away only when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he found himself looking up into the face of a man six inches taller than him with a lumpy, broken nose and a completely bald head.
    ‘No nudity,’ the man said.
    The other bouncer was also closing in, a black man, taller and heavier still. Adam made to speak, keen to defuse the situation, but Jasmine got in first.
    ‘Do go away, you horrible little man. Can’t you see I’m talking to my friend?’
    ‘No nudity, miss,’ the first bouncer continued patiently, then addressed Adam. ‘I think she’s a little drunk, sir. If you could ask her to cover up?’
    ‘Of course …’ Adam began, only for Jasmine to