Blake, Abby - Emma's Education [Viper's Dungeon 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (2 page)

A larger crowd gathered around the Dom with the bullwhip. Anticipation swirled in the air, and the buzz of voices suggested they were all eager to watch the demonstration. Logan didn’t know the man personally, but he’d heard he was very skilled. Now that Logan was here, he found himself quite eager to watch. Surprising, considering the mood he’d been in lately.

The whip cracked several more times, before the Dom checked his sub, spoke to her quietly, and then stood back. He raised his arm ready to begin. “Count for me, sub,” the man said in a loud, deep voice. One last check to make sure the crowd hadn’t ventured too close, and then he swung the whip at his sub.

The noise was nearly deafening, but the sub’s moan was almost as loud. She gasped the number one as her Dom raised his arm, ready to continue. Even from more than a dozen feet away, Logan could see the small red welt where the end of the whip had lashed the woman’s ass. Again the Dom raised his arm, again the noise rang out, and again his sub moaned a number.

Content to watch the demonstration, Logan couldn’t explain why the brunette kneeling at her Master’s feet on the other side of the room caught his attention. The woman watched the whipping, but unlike every other submissive in the room, this one looked absolutely terrified. She jumped with every crack of the whip and cringed every time the sub moaned. If he had to guess, Logan would say the woman had no idea how pain could be pleasurable. It didn’t bode well for her, considering she was in a BDSM club surrounded by bondage equipment.

She wore a thick, studded-leather dog collar around her throat. Logan tried to hide his distaste. He’d never been comfortable with collars and leashes for his submissives. Granted, there were some subs who enjoyed the feel of the collar around their throat. He’d even had one who’d begged him to use a restrictive collar on her. He’d used it as a reward, but the relationship hadn’t lasted more than a few nights.

It especially irked him that this woman’s collar was tethered at the back of her neck. It meant that anytime her Master chose to he could literally force her to move by cutting off her ability to breathe. Apart from being extremely dangerous, Logan was fairly certain it was still against club rules. He glanced around looking for one of the dungeon monitors, wondering if anyone he knew still worked here. It was unlikely. He’d joined the SEALs eight years ago and had only dropped into the club a few times since. His last visit had been nearly three years ago.

As soon as he saw Jace, he smiled in relief and made his way to the man’s position. Intent on monitoring the crowded dungeon, Jace didn’t see him until Logan practically stood in from of him, but he smiled and held his hand out to shake.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he said with a huge smile. Logan shook his hand and grinned at his friend. They literally hadn’t seen each other in years, but it would seem that hadn’t altered the comfortable friendship that had developed when they’d both been employed here. “What brings the mighty SEAL back to Viper’s Dungeon? Bored with the vanilla life already?”

Logan grinned. His sex life hadn’t really been vanilla. More like nonexistent lately. But as much as he wanted to catch up with Jace, he needed to deal with the sub and her dangerous collar first. It took only a few words and Jace nodded his agreement. Together they headed to speak to the Dom and check on his submissive.

* * * *

Emma saw the two men stop next to the man she’d been dating for the past two months. She’d agreed to come here, willing to explore the lifestyle Greg said he enjoyed, but so far all she’d witnessed had done nothing but frighten her—and make her regret not breaking things off with Greg sooner. She’d already been questioning their compatibility when Greg had “confessed” his secret life. The way he’d described it certainly didn’t compare to the reality.

And he’d left out the part about wearing a dog collar.

A dog collar, for fuck’s sake! He’d put it on her the moment they’d entered the club. She’d tried to refuse, but Greg explained that without a collar she risked being mistaken as available and forcibly claimed by another Dom. One look at all the hard, dangerous-looking, leather-clad men had been enough to convince her to stay by Greg’s side and endure the evening’s “entertainment.”

Letting Greg strip her down to her underwear hadn’t been part of the plan either, but somehow here she was kneeling at her “Master’s” feet in her underwear. Thank heavens she’d worn a decent bra and panties set. Although she suspected that she’d be as naked as several of the other submissives if Greg hadn’t liked the black thong and matching lace bra.

She was so busy reflecting on her many wrong turns for this evening that she almost managed to drown out the sound of the whip and the poor woman’s whimpering. But the annoyed tug on her leash was so unexpected she tried to grab for the leather before she remembered that her hands were wrapped in thick leather cuffs and clipped together behind her back.

Emma coughed, her throat aching in protest to Greg’s treatment. She wanted to yell at her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, but he’d warned her that misbehaving subs were punished. She’d already seen what happened to a woman who disobeyed her Master, and she had no wish to experience it firsthand. Emma shifted uncomfortably as memories of how red the woman’s ass had been by the time her Dom finished giving her an open-handed spanking flashed through her mind. The fact that he’d then bent her double and fucked her doggy-style in front of everyone just made staying quiet all that more sensible.

Shit. The last thing she’d expected was to see actual sex. Greg had conveniently left out a lot of details, and as soon as she could get out of this place, she was breaking off the relationship and going back to being a workaholic. Working seventeen-hour days seemed far safer for her health.

She heard a man’s voice raised in anger, and she tried desperately to curb her curiosity. She’d been told to keep her eyes lowered. No way in hell was she going to look up and see who was arguing. Another violent wrench on the collar pulled her backward, and she gagged as the thick leather dug into her throat. Fear filled her, adrenaline flooding her veins as the pressure finally released and she tried to scramble away.

Large hands grabbed for her, and she screamed in terror as someone lifted her off the floor and carried her from the dimly lit room.

* * * *

Logan carried the terrified woman from the main area. She shook so violently in his arms that he even had trouble holding her. He stepped into one of the unoccupied private rooms, carefully lowered her to sit on the edge of the bed, and undid the cuffs holding her hands together. He cursed a blue streak when he saw the raw skin on her wrists, but it was nothing compared to the rage that filled him when he managed to remove the collar. The skin on her throat was red and raw where the leather had bitten into her soft flesh when her idiot Dom had pulled her backward.

Fuck. He’d wanted to punch the guy when he’d first seen his sub’s collar. But now? Now he wanted to break the fool’s neck. His angry actions when he’d been approached by the dungeon monitors could’ve seriously hurt the submissive in his care.

“I–I’m s–sorry,” the woman blurted out in a rough, rasping voice. “Please,”—she took a deep, shuddering breath—“please, please don’t hurt me. I don’t understand all the rules yet.”

Okay, now he was going to fucking kill the man.

“I’m not going to hurt you, little one.” He tried to keep the rage from his voice. Right at this moment she needed calm reassurance, not a man hell-bent on beating the living shit out of an idiot pretending to be a Dom.

She looked at him in surprise but quickly averted her eyes, shaking even harder as reaction started to set in. He quickly grabbed a soft blanket from the bed, wrapped her cocoon-style, and hauled her onto his lap. He held her close as she began to cry, and he whispered soft words of reassurance as she apologized over and over and over.

Jace opened the door quietly, nodded when he saw the woman nestled in Logan’s arms, and then stepped into the room. He sat on the chair beside the bed and waited quietly as the woman eventually stopped shaking and fell into an exhausted sleep. Jace interpreted Logan’s mood correctly because he explained exactly what happened to the woman’s Dom after Logan left.

Of course escorting the bastard from the premises, banning him for life, and sending his photo to all the fetish clubs in the area was about the sum total that could be done in a legal sense, but it had been made very clear what would happen if he returned.

“Unfortunately,” Jace said in a soft, low voice, “he’s also claiming that she is his fiancée and likes the way he treats her.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Logan said as he tried not to grind his back teeth to dust. “She apologized over and over as if she believed she’d done something wrong. If they do have a D/s relationship, I doubt it’s making her happy.”

Jace nodded in agreement. “I’ll get Adam to take over my shift in the main room, and then we’ll figure out what’s going on when she wakes up.”

* * * *

She woke to the low, deep sounds of two men talking. She didn’t remember leaving the television on, but she must’ve. Otherwise, why would there be men talking in her bedroom while she slept?

Sudden terror streaked through her as she finally remembered where she was and why. “Greg?” she asked, trying to control the fear making her voice wobbly.

“No, little one, my name is Logan.” He helped her to a sitting position, and she finally realized why she felt so warm. She was literally wrapped up in a blanket, but thankfully it meant that she wasn’t alone with a complete stranger while wearing only her underwear.

“What’s your name, darlin’?” Startled by the unexpected voice, Emma swung her gaze to the left. Okay, make that alone with two complete strangers.

“I–I’m sorry,” she tried again. She literally had no idea what she was apologizing for, but the last thing she needed was the type of punishment they handed out here. Hell, she’d apologize all the way out the door if they’d just let her go home.

“Name, little one,” the man holding her said in a voice that brooked no argument.

“Emma.” She almost grinned with relief that she’d finally forced a word past her teeth without stuttering. Geez, this had been one hell of a night. She was heading home and forgetting everything about this experience just as soon as she found Greg and dumped his skeazy ass.

“Emma,” man number two said with a smile. “Do you know the man you were with?” Well, that was an unexpected question. Why would she let a stranger wrap a collar around her neck and parade her practically naked in front of a bunch of strangers? Come to think of it—why did she let Greg,
the fucking asshole
, do it anyway?

She nodded carefully, swallowing hard when she realized the muscles in her neck felt tight and sore.

“So he’s your fiancé?”

“Fiancé? Fuck no,” she said, forgetting for a moment the situation she was in. “I mean, sorry, S–Sir. I mean, yes, I know him, but no, he’s not my fiancé.” She bit her tongue against the rest of the words that wanted to rage from her brain. She still had no idea what these men intended.

The man holding her—Logan?—laughed quietly. The one beside them simply grinned.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

“Greg wanted to come. He said it was why our relationship wasn’t working. He said he had needs that we could explore together.”

“Did he explain any of these
needs
before you arrived here?”

She shook her head, sincerely hoping that honesty really was the best policy. Her mother had drummed the mantra into her ever since she’d been old enough to listen. Hopefully, in this predicament, it would finally be true.

“What did he tell you?”

“He told me,” she said, glancing between the two men, “that it was a Dom’s responsibility to take care of his submissive. He said he would protect me and teach me how we could please each other.” She laughed softly. “If he’d mentioned the dog collar, he would never have gotten me to step foot in the door. I didn’t think I would like being told what to do, and after tonight I’m certain of it. I am definitely not a submissive person.”

* * * *

Jace watched the woman as she spoke. She may have believed she wasn’t submissive, but her actions certainly belied her words. She still lay contentedly wrapped in a blanket and held tightly in Logan’s arms. Whether she realized it or not, she felt safe here. Far safer than she’d felt in the dungeon with her supposed fiancé.

“Well, he got a couple of things right,” Logan said as he pushed an errant curl away from Emma’s eyes. “It is a Dom’s responsibility to take care of his submissive. Unfortunately, Greg had no understanding of what is involved.” Logan touched the marks on her throat, and that’s when Jace finally noticed the trembling in his friend’s hand.