Against Her Will (Dragon's Lair) (3 page)

“
She’s too saucy,” Julia said, and she could have bitten out her tongue. She liked her recruits saucy, and Richard knew it full well. But what other flaw could she find, what reason for refusing?

Richard
’s voice sounded much more cheerful. Damn, he knew what she wasn’t saying. She respected his intelligence even when it worked against her, but she didn’t like it. “Very well,” he said, the smugness returning. “I’ll see if someone else will take her. Nurse Athena just finished her assignment, and—“

Julia surprised herself with the venom in her voice.
“Athena?” She spat the name out. “She’ll spoil the girl. None of her recruits have any self-discipline, take twice as long to adjust to their placements…”

Damn! What had gotten into her that she couldn’t hold her tongue? Julia’s reticence had won adm
iration from every corner. She was a fine example of this self-discipline, wasn’t she? Here she sat, unable to control the desire soaking her panties at the mere photo of this girl.

Richard had the grace not to chuckle. “
Fine, Julia. We’ll double your commission for this assignment, with a ten-K bonus upon completion. Anything else?”

Julia blinked. Instead of laughing at a love-struck
overgrown schoolgirl, apparently Richard thought her refusal was a bargaining ploy. He must have a potential buyer lined up already, someone for whom money was no object. That was yet one more reason why she could not train this girl and hope to remain respected as the top nurse at Dragon’s Lair. “I’m not taking her on, and that’s that. You’re not changing my mind.”

“Plus an addition
al five-K for any supplies you deem necessary.”

“Richard…”

“This girl is going to make Dragon’s Lair history, and I know you want to be part of it.”

Damn him! “Stop bullying me and let me think.”

She heaved a gusty sigh. Wise as always, he had remained silent. So she was attracted to this girl. So what? Anyone could see she was quality material. A diamond in the rough. The other nurses would jump at the chance to train her. They would take the credit for training her when it was the girl’s natural talent that made her exceptional. Besides, with extra padding in the training budget, she could go all out. She could try things she had never been able to attempt before because they were too expensive.

“Fine,” Julia snapped. “But no one touches her. Get her some Vitamin E and ice packs for the bruising. I don’t want her marked.”

No one commanded Master Dragon’s right-hand man. Julia was pushing the limits, but she had to assert her authority somehow. When she finally met the girl and lost all self-control, at least Julia could think back to this conversation and pretend to be in charge.

“As you wish,” Richard answered, refraining
from crowing over his victory. Julia had to admit that he knew how to play the game, too. Few bosses would treat a subordinate with this much consideration. “We will also increase the heat in her room so she won’t get chilled. I’ll clear Diamond for you to occupy tonight.” He clicked off without saying good-bye.

8 p.m.
That was when all of the recruits were placed with their nurses. The perfect time to teach the girls their first lesson before being put to bed. And Diamond was the elite training room with amenities unknown to the others. Julia had been trained in Diamond years ago, but the room had remained unused since then. So Richard really was pulling out all the stops for this girl, she mused to herself. Just who was this new recruit, and why was Richard willing to spend nearly foolish amounts of time and effort on her? Who was the mysterious buyer who had spoken for her, or was there another reason? Julia had heard rumors of Master Dragon searching for a consort, but no one had taken them seriously. What if the rumors were actually true? What if she, Julia, would be the one responsible for training the new Mistress of Dragon’s Lair?

Julia rose to begin packing, and s
he smiled to herself. Whether the new recruit would become a future consort of Master Dragon or a wealthy CEO, all training began the same way: a good old-fashioned spanking with enough “ouch” to leave the girl crying herself to sleep on the first night of her new identity.

It had been too long since Julia
had laid a sobbing girl across her lap, and she missed the feel of soft skin underneath her hard hand. She could almost feel it right now, the delicious squirming and twisting of upturned buttocks as a poor, desperate girl fought to get off Julia’s lap. The girl would plead and cry and perhaps fight back, but Julia’s implacable discipline would instill a much-needed home truth: in this new life, the only people with opinions worth listening to were the givers of spankings.

This new
girl was in for the surprise of her life.

*              *              *

“Sarah?” Becky buzzed the intercom at the front gate of Sarah’s apartment complex, but there was no answer. “Sarah, are you there?” She tried calling Sarah’s cell phone, but she only received the same message that the number had been disconnected.

“Hey lady,
whatcha doin’?” Three children of mixed ages called to her as they wandered close. They looked bored and eager for a chance to make conversation with someone new.

“Do you know Sarah
Mathison?” Becky knew it was foolish to ask strange children, but she could not get rid of the worry inside of her gut. Something was wrong. It had to be.

“She don’t live here no more,” the youngest child answered
. He was perhaps six or seven years old. “Some guy came up and gave us bucks to take her stuff to the dump.”

Becky looked at them with skepticism.
Scrawny children and furniture? Hardly. The oldest child, around ten or twelve, interrupted.

“The little stuff. Pots and pans and food boxes.”

“Where did she go?” Of course, Luke would have preferred for Sarah to get rid of her single-living items before marriage. He would have the best quality of everything for her, wouldn’t he?

“
Dunno,” the oldest child answered.

“I got a couple
hunnerd bucks,” the youngest child boasted. The other two made faces at her. “Did too.”

“More like fifty,” the oldest child corrected.

“I really need to talk to her,” Becky insisted. “Do you have any idea who this man was or where he was taking her?”

The children looked at each other and shrugged.

“Anything at all?” Becky pressed, even though she realized the futility of her questions. Sarah had it all - a fabulous boyfriend, a dream wedding, and a lifetime of prosperity ahead of her. There was no reason for her to disappear.

“The guy was on his phone,” the oldest child pointed out.
“Didn’t say much.”

“Oh.” Becky turned to leave, disappointed. Perhaps Sarah was too caught up in her wonderful new life
to bother with people from her old one.

“Hey, lady!” The youngest girl shouted as Becky got back into her car.

“Yes?”

“You can have this.”

The child held out a small black square of paper with the insignia of a dragon. Becky looked at it blankly. “What’s this?”

“The guy gave it to us,” the oldest child answered. “Said if anyone looked for her, they could have it.”

“Thanks,” Becky answered, and she pulled away. She’d had enough of childish banter, and their story was probably made up anyway. She’d forget about Sarah and find a new office temp.

Sarah crouched in the corner, shivering. For the first few hours after her capture, she had persuaded herself that this was all a bizarre dream. Luke would tap her on the shoulder, remove her restraints, and give a self-deprecating smile. She would shout that it wasn’t funny, demand to know what he had been thinking, and threaten to make his life miserable. He would apologize with a caress and a reminder of their love.

How long had she been trapped in this nightmare? Her arms ached with the scraping and tugging
that was worst next to the bones on the insides of her wrists. Once or twice, a warm liquid trickled down her skin and the handcuffs scraped fiery agony into her body, etching each moment with pain. No amount of wrenching had freed her hands, and her eyes strained against the unrelenting darkness.

If I get out of here alive, I’ll be kinder to people who are blind
, she thought to herself. She had never dropped money into collection buckets for various charities, but she would remedy that once she got back. She would get back. She must! How did people find their way around? How did they keep from going insane? At first, Sarah had screamed. She’d shouted for help, attention, or anyone who could rescue her. Each time, the footsteps had approached her and silenced her with a slap across the face, a blow against the buttocks, or a profanity-laden threat. Something sharp pressed into the hollow beneath her ribs, and she had held herself absolutely still when she felt a nick. That time, her tormentor had not said a word. He didn’t need to. Another time, the man’s voice had mocked her as his hands groped her body. She fought him, despite her lack of sight, and his laughter had burned humiliation into her ears.

The rattle of a key startled Sarah, and her entire body tensed. She held her cuffed hands in front of her face, as if she could ward off the blows to come.

“Get up,” ordered the voice she had heard after each entry, the same voice she had grown to despise. It was a hard voice, angry and mean, probably from a would-be man who had to compensate for small body parts. It was called “little dictator syndrome,” wasn’t it?

This time, however, the words were not followed with oaths, commands, or touches designed to humiliate. Cautiously, she rose to her feet and strained to pick out any cues.
But there was no shuffling of feet, no coughs, no clues that anyone else occupied the room. Sarah stood tall, straightening her spine with the grace learned from years of ballet lessons. They could take away her sight and her clothes, but no one could take away her dignity. In fact, the blindfold almost made things easier. She could picture her tormentor as a slimy scoundrel with a cartoonish handlebar mustache, and she could shut out everything but her need to remain in control.

The footsteps traveled behind her
. Clanking fell around her waist and brought her arms down for the tormentor to attach them to the dangling chains. She would have kicked him, but the unspoken implication startled her. She would be moved, then. Where would she go? She shuffled ahead of the prodding rubber baton against her back, and now other footsteps joined them. She must be part of a procession. Who followed her, and why?

They walked for what seemed like hours, a tap of the baton indicating whether she should veer right or left. She wondered
why she was cooperating, but a faint hope lit a spark in her heart. Maybe - just maybe - they would set her free. She faltered at the thought, and the baton pushed harder.

“
Turn right!” the voice barked, and Sarah complied. She refused to consider the implied opposite of her small hope. They might set her free, but by the same token they might introduce her to an even worse fate. She shivered as a door closed behind her, and a scraping sound told her another key had been turned.

She stood, uncertain, lifting her fingers in a vain, blind attempt to find her surroundings. She mewled with despair, and all of a sudden the fabric fell from her eyes to reveal the most beau
tiful woman she had ever seen. The woman was nearly six feet tall, lean and muscled with piercing green eyes and red hair caught in an updo. Sarah stood rooted to the floor, unable to move even if she had wanted to. Her cherry red lips parted halfway, and her pink tongue licked in confusion.

“
My pet,” crooned the woman, and she cast Sarah’s light blue blindfold to the ground. She took out a key and unlocked the chains binding Sarah’s handcuffs to the metal belt, and the metal fell to the ground with a crashing noise. Sarah held out her hands in mute expectation, and the woman raised the insides of Sarah’s bloodied wrists to soothe with a kiss. “I trust you have been taught what happens if you do not obey?”

The sweetness of the woman’s lips shocked Sarah so much that she could not speak. The kiss was immediately followed by a
twist of the key to free her from the handcuffs, and the woman dabbed at Sarah’s sores with a damp cloth. Sarah yelped, but the woman cleaned her wound firmly and applied a stinging antiseptic. Through it all, except for the first hungry gaze, the woman kept her touch and manner briskly professional. Sarah felt less like a captured prisoner and more like a patient presented for medical attention. Idly, Sarah wondered why she didn’t break free and run for the door. Surely, even surrounded, she could make an attempt to run away. Yet something about this mysterious woman kept Sarah gazing into her eyes. Her knees felt weak, and not because she had been unable to eat the mushy food they shoved into her mouth after her capture. What the heck was wrong with her, anyway? She didn’t even
like
women.

“
There,” the woman pronounced, and she led Sarah to a raised leather table. “I’d prefer not to punish you on our first night, so please be good enough not to force me to do so. You would hate for me to be unhappy, my pet.”

Sarah drew back,
shivering with fear but also anticipation at the unspoken promise underlying the words. How could this woman make “unhappy” sound like the most terrifying prospect ever? It was almost as if the woman were daring Sarah to try it, as if she relished the chance to show her power. Sarah froze, but the woman forcibly took Sarah’s arms and pushed her toward the table.

“That’s a good girl,” the woman murmured, as Sarah allowed herself to be positioned like a rag doll. “No sense making Nurse stripe your
backside before we start your training.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. She could not have heard correctly. There was no way…over her dead body…
Her skin prickled as she quickly banished the thought. What if it were a prophetic one? Better abused than dead, at least for now. It depended on what they would do to her. Against her better judgment, Sarah climbed onto the table and lay back on the white linen cloth. She stared at the ceiling as the woman parted her legs and fastened her ankles in metal stirrups. Sarah felt herself flush, tears gathering in her eyes as this Amazon goddess poked and prodded each of her most sensitive parts. Worse, the touch of her hands caused Sarah’s body to respond against her will. She felt herself becoming aroused in a way she had never thought possible, wetness trickling onto the table. Well, maybe they’d let her feel a little pleasure before killing her.

“
You’re very tight,” the woman proclaimed.

A
gainst all reason, Sarah felt ashamed at having disappointed her. Or was it disappointment? Was there a small note of breathlessness in the woman’s pronouncement, a quickening of her words? The next words threw Sarah into a frenzy, and she struggled against the bonds she had foolishly allowed the woman to fasten.

“We have ways to fix that, my pet. Don’t you worry.
”

“What are you doing?” Sarah asked feebly, and the woman ignored her. Sarah twisted in a sit-up, and the woman placed a hand across her chest.

“
You will speak when you are spoken to, my pet, and not before.”

Sarah started to argue, to demand her rights, but the goddess parted Sarah
’s legs further. Sarah squealed, but the pinching and rubbing changed her squeal to one of excitement. Sarah thrust herself against the woman’s expert hands, panting in a way that would have shocked her at any other time. Yet the unreal nature of her entire experience had allowed to her disengage her normal inhibitions, and she squeezed her inner thighs together in an effort to bring the touch closer to her sweet spot.

“
Naughty!” the woman scolded, but she laughed as she said it. “Naughty pet, trying to take what is not yours. Pleasure will come only after you have learned to be a good girl, Miss.”

Before Sarah could respond to the strange speech, the woman pushed a button that lifted Sarah
’s stirruped legs up and toward her chest, far enough to raise her buttocks into the air. She breathed hard, squished by her own legs and horribly exposed. She wanted to weep for shame, but at the same time her quivering body begged for more touch.

“
This is what happens to naughty little girls who disobey,” the woman said, and a blaze of fire ignited the crease in between Sarah’s thighs and bottom cheeks.

Sarah screamed in agony, tears dripping down her face.
“I’m sorry!” she cried.. Surely this woman, as stunning as her looks might be, should apologize to
Sarah
for her outrageous violations. But who would expect an Amazon goddess to apologize for smiting with lightning? No, the recipient of such wrath would have no choice but to apologize for inviting such harsh retribution. Retribution for what? Sarah could think no longer, except to give soft exclamations of pain. “No more, please no more!”

“Ah,” the woman purred, her brilliant scarlet lips curving into a satisfied smile. “Naughty pet has learned to fear Nurse’s riding crop, has she?” She brought the instrument
down again, and Sarah writhed in unbelievable pain.

Tears streamed Sarah’s cheeks, and she babbled promises to do or be anything humanly or inhumanly possible if only
“Nurse” would stop. One more lash drove Sarah’s cries to a high-pitched squeal, and she lay against the leather padding of the bench exhausted by her own struggles as much as by the punishment. The woman held the black leather crop to Sarah, handle outward.

“Kiss the crop,” the woman commanded. “And thank Nurse for correcting you.”

To her own disbelief, Sarah lifted her lips to the smooth, polished wooden handle. “Th-thank you,” she croaked miserably.

The woman brushed Sarah’s sweat-soaked hair away from her face and dropped a kiss onto her mouth, sweetness and aggression all in one. Sarah gasped, but the woman fondled Sarah’s bare breasts with a possessive air.
Once again, it took only a few swift motions to bring Sarah to the brink of maddening desire. She strained against the stirrups, hungering for more touch than was offered.

Before Sarah could be satiated, however, the woman pulled away. She pressed the hidden button again, lowering Sarah’s legs in the stirrups and unbuckling the restraints. Sarah curled up into a ball, still shocked at
herself for not getting up and running out the door.

“
Ow,” she whimpered, pressing her hands against the angry red weals forming in the sensitive crease just below her buttocks. She felt as if she had been stung by bees, or had sat on a red-hot iron. Curious, she thought to herself, that a few blows from this woman had affected her far more than the unceasing torment in her sightless cell. It wasn’t just the woman’s beauty. It couldn’t be. Nor could it be only her self-possessed air, although it was part of it. Sarah found herself melting underneath this woman’s spell. Pleasure and pain had never before been mixed so exquisitely. Now that the initial sting had receded, Sarah found the throbbing soreness increased, rather than decreased, the aching need inside of her. She squirmed, almost like a child who needed to go potty, as she fought to understand her body’s responses.

The woman helped Sarah off the table and brought her to a rocking chair. Sarah leaned gratefully against the older woman, soothed by the back and forth motion of the chair.
Sarah found herself seeking comfort from the very person who had brought her so much pain and humiliation in a few short minutes. She cried, sniveling little-girl hiccupping sobs that threatened to unleash new torrents of misery. The woman allowed Sarah to cry unchecked, murmuring soft comments of pity and reassurance. “Such a sweet little girl,” she crooned, kissing Sarah’s cheek. “Nurse is so proud of her new little girl. That hurt, didn’t it? Nurse will have to punish you quite a bit as your learn how to become a Dragon girl, but she will give you pleasure, too. Much pleasure. It’s easy to give pleasure to a lovely little girl like you.”

“Go away!” Sarah fought against her. She didn’t want any kind touches from the woman who had humiliated and confused her. She wanted to hate, instead of hating herself for basking in the attention. She felt as if she were five years old again, thrilled to make her mother happy with a crayon drawing.

Instead of punishing or scolding, the woman chuckled. “That’s right, my pet. You feel ashamed of receiving cuddles from your Nurse when you just had to be punished, but it’s all right. Every little girl is naughty sometimes, and she still needs to be loved and cherished.” Julia held Sarah loosely, allowing the girl to fight back without the risk of falling out of the chair. This first post-spanking moment was critical to establishing their relationship. If Sarah felt Julia was a cruel keeper, she would withdraw into a private world of hurt and betrayal. If Julia gave too much comfort, she risked both spoiling the girl and allowing her own passion to override professional boundaries. She had to separate physical, carnal pleasure from earning the girl’s trust.