Decadent Master (4 page)

Something flared in Dierk’s eyes. Wynne wondered what it was. But he didn’t say a word.

“That would be great! I was hoping you’d offer, since I have an appointment in a few minutes.” Kristy gave Wynne a gentle shove, making her feel like an unwanted little sister.

Wynne turned a scowl at her pushy friend and whispered, “Stop that.”

Kristy gave her an encouraging nod. “I’ve known Master Rolf for years. You’ll be perfectly safe.” Then she hauled her huge tote over her shoulder and scampered off, leaving Wynne with the wicked-looking Master Rolf and his equally dangerous brother Dierk.

Dierk promptly excused himself to handle those “important general manager things” Rolf had mentioned.

Rolf stepped forward, crowding her personal space, and placed a hand on the small of her back.

Her muscles instantly tightened, from the waist up, and her breath hitched in her throat.

Totally ignoring her reaction to his touch, he leaned closer, murmuring, “So tell me, how much do you want to know about domination and submission?”

Nothing. Not a single thing.
“Only enough to make me dangerous,” she said, trying to sound at ease but failing, big time.

He grinned, the expression a fairly good interpretation of the Cheshire cat. “Hmmmm, I like that answer.”

And she liked the way he’d said those words. His voice had a gritty edge to it, a sensual just-rolled-out-of-bed tone. It made her feel warm inside. Soft and feminine, too.

“Have you read anything on the Internet? Do you know anything about the lifestyle?” he asked as he steered her around a piece of furniture she couldn’t name with that hand pressed to her back.

“Absolutely nothing,” she said, musing at how amazing it was that a gentle exertion of pressure, shifted to the right or left, could guide her, kind of like a bridle on a horse.

“Then we’ll start with the basics.” He stopped in the center of the room. “This is our general bondage dungeon. In this room, our members play domination and submission games. During play, there is one general rule that must be adhered to by all participants. The activities must be safe, sane, and consensual. Safety is always the primary concern, and as you will see, we have personnel positioned throughout the building to make sure no one is hurt while on our property.”

“That’s good to know.” Her gaze skipped past the pair of people standing next to a huge wooden cross thingy, to the big guy standing in the corner, wearing a black shirt with the word Twilight scrawled across the front.

“No one is ever forced to participate in a scene, ever,” Rolf continued. “Our members are carefully screened, and no one who has had a criminal conviction is permitted access to our facilities….”

She nodded, following Rolf’s lead as he continued toward the back of the room. He pointed out the various pieces of furniture, naming them. He explained the general rules of bondage play. To her relief, he didn’t make her stand there and watch the people who were playing. Whether it was because he sensed she was still too nervous and shaky about this whole thing or because it was a courtesy issue to the people playing, she didn’t know.

“Also, there are limits to what kinds of activities are permitted in our dungeon. We have private rooms available for members to rent, and some members lease private suites, in which they can participate in more intimate activities. But out here, we don’t permit any exchange of bodily fluids, including sexual intercourse. Members sanitize all equipment when they’re through. In addition, our staff goes through at the end of the night and does a thorough cleaning.”

This was nothing like the free-for-all kink-fest she’d imagined when her friend had tried to describe it. Quite the opposite, it seemed like the people who ran Twilight were very conscientious, responsible, and professional.

Finally, when they’d come full circle, back to the bar, he motioned to a stool. “How about something to drink?”

“Sure.” She could use a stiff drink right about now. Might help her relax. “Do you have a wine list?”

“No, I’m sorry, this bar serves strictly nonalcoholic beverages. But we serve wine downstairs in the restaurant. I’d be happy to take you down there if you like.”

“No, no. That’s okay. I’d be just as happy with a cola. Thanks.”

As he ordered her drink, she glanced at the clock, surprised to discover that her little tour had taken almost an hour. She wondered how much longer it would take Kristy, aka Mistress Raven, to finish up her appointment. Since Wynne hadn’t seen her friend during her little excursion, she assumed the appointment was in a private room or suite. She tried to imagine what her friend might be doing.

Her cheeks burned.

“There you are, one cola.” Rolf set the drink on the bar.

She swiveled her stool around to face the bar, and glancing sideways at her host, gave him a grateful smile. She lifted the glass, taking the straw between her lips and pulling in a mouthful. Ahh, cold. Refreshing. “Thank you for taking the time to walk me around. I’m sorry if I’m keeping you from…anything.”

God, how lame did that sound?

“It was my pleasure.” His gaze was razor sharp, piercing, as it captured hers. He held a glass in his hand but didn’t lift it to his mouth. Instead, he simply sat there, staring into her eyes, watching her. His lips curled into a teasing grin. “Now that we’ve covered the basics, are you ready to get down to business?”

Oh God. What was he suggesting? She eased the drink from her mouth, thankful for the fact that she hadn’t spewed cola all over his face.

“I…um…” If her face hadn’t been roasting before, now her cheeks felt like twin electric burners, cranked up to high.

He chuckled and the sound vibrated through every cell in her body, or at least it felt that way. He plucked the straw out of his glass and set it on a napkin. “You know what they say about writing, ‘write what you know.’”

“Yes, they do say that.” She gulped down several mouthfuls before even trying to say another word. “I don’t think I’m ready for any firsthand experiences. Today. But, thanks. I’d rather ask you a few questions, if that’s okay.”

“Sure, shoot away.” He finally took a drink from his glass. She used those few seconds, as he tipped his head back and swallowed, to think up a few safe questions to ask. This man, this disturbingly gorgeous man, really set her nerves on edge. Whether it was the way he looked or the way he looked at her, she couldn’t say. But there was something about him that made her feel funny inside.

“First, can you tell me why your members like to play these domination and submission games?”

He set his empty glass on the bar, waving to the bartender for a refill. He ordered one for her, too. “Well, I’m no psychiatrist, so I can’t say why every person here gets into power play, but I can speak for myself.”

She practically held her breath, waiting for his response.

“For me, it’s a drive—a need—that was inborn. When I was a kid, I told myself stories as I lay in bed. Stories in which I was the mighty warrior, slaying the enemy and conquering the princess. I’d haul her away from her castle, taking her to my domain, where I was master and lord. And then I’d seduce her until she was trembling, on her back, willingly submitting to me, relinquishing everything she had, everything she was.”

Wynne could picture the scene he described in her mind’s eye. And much to her surprise, her heart was pounding, her body trembling, as she imagined herself in the role of the princess, stolen away to this dark and powerful lord’s castle.

God, that was sexy.

No, beyond sexy. It was thrilling. Intoxicating.

“Later, I learned that there are others like me,” he continued, “who felt the need to dominate. My brothers, all of them, are like me—Doms.”

All. That meant Dierk, too.

Rolf continued, “Together, we gradually discovered people who needed men like us, submissives, and Twilight was born. This was a place where we could come together, without fear, without facing prejudice or judgment. It’s a place where we’re safe. We understand each other, we feed each other’s needs, souls.”

“It sounds very…” Powerful? Nurturing.

“Hey, there you are,” Kristy said behind her.

Intrigued but also ready to call it a night, Wynne glanced over her shoulder. “Yep, here I am.”

“Ready to go?”

“Uh, sure.” Wynne gave Rolf one last smile. “Thank you again. It’s been very…enlightening.”

“You’re welcome.”

As she stood on legs that felt no sturdier than a new sapling being pummeled by gale-force winds, he caught her wrist, forcing her to turn around. “Come back and see me. Tomorrow night. We’ll talk some more.”

“Um…Maybe I could do that.”

He nodded. “Yes, you could.” Slowly, his smile widening, he unfurled one finger at a time, until her wrist was free. She shuffled after her friend, her gaze focused on the exit, knowing that if she didn’t squeeze a full inhalation into her imploded lungs in the next few seconds, she’d pass out.

That had been the wildest rush she’d ever felt in her life. It left her feeling full of energy. Like she was buzzed.

Maybe that was the secret to this thing? Maybe the participants were looking for adrenaline? A natural high? She could admit a part of her was already demanding another dose.

This was dangerous. Passion and desire, blended with fear and anticipation. If she were smart, she’d never step foot in that place again.

“Y
ou owe me one thousand dollars, little brother.” Dierk pointed at his computer monitor, now displaying a hazy black-and-white image of the dungeon’s main exit. He’d watched the hot little brunette, with her sweet face and soft body, pass through that door no more than a handful of minutes ago.

Naturally, he wouldn’t admit to Rolf that he hadn’t caught her leaving by chance. The truth was, he’d watched her, undetected, for the past hour. He hadn’t glanced away once.

It had been sixty torturous minutes, witnessing her every move. He’d seen the way her expression had slowly relaxed as his brother had brilliantly talked her through her fears, the tension leave her shoulders, her neck, her face.

Ironically, it was because of Rolf that she’d stayed longer than a half hour. Rolf could have easily scared her off. Either Rolf didn’t care about the money, or he was as intrigued by the little brunette as Dierk was.

Not looking particularly put out, Rolf pulled his wallet from his pocket and peeled off ten Ben Franklins, placing them in Dierk’s outstretched hand. “That was worth every penny. Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve played with a fresh one.”

“She’s something, eh?” Dierk asked, trying his damndest to keep his tone neutral as he pocketed the money. She was fresh, all right. Dewy skin and soft curves. She smelled like peaches. He bet she’d taste sweet, too. He’d spent the past hour imagining what she might taste like.

“Yeah, something,” Rolf said, almost sounding star struck. He flopped into the chair opposite Dierk’s and kicked his booted feet up onto the desk’s polished top.

Dierk knocked them off. “Too bad she won’t be back.” For some reason it was really bugging him that he hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to her more, to hear her lush voice as she explained why she’d come to his dungeon.

“Who says she won’t? I invited her back tomorrow.”

A ripple of heat sizzled through Dierk’s body. He hurried to the minibar next to a file cabinet and poured himself a brandy. He downed it in one swallow. “She’s not going to show up. Did you see the way she looked at everything? At you, me, our members. Like we’ve got two heads and are about to eat her alive. We’ve both seen that look before.”

Setting his empty glass down, he poured one for his brother, but Rolf declined. Since it would be a damn crime to let good brandy like that go to waste, Dierk closed his eyes and tipped back the glass. The brandy slipped down his throat, warming his belly. More erotic heat charged through his system, sparked by the combination of some damn fine brandy and an even better image of Wynne flashing in his mind.

“Well, at least on that last count, she’s probably right. Given the chance, I’d eat her alive,” Rolf said.

The two shared a laugh.

“How about another bet? Double or nothing?” Rolf offered.

“I’m listening.” Dierk filled and emptied his glass a couple more times before heading back to his desk. Tired of sitting, he leaned a hip against a bookshelf and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’ll bet our shy little writer shows up tomorrow. If I’m wrong, I pay you two thousand.”

Dierk thought about it for less than a handful of seconds before handing Rolf back his money. “You’re going to lose, but what the hell?”

“We’ll see about that.” Rolf offered his hand.

“You’re on.” He gave his brother’s hand a quick shake then forced himself back into the chair. Frowning, he swiveled around to glance at the computer monitor. If it weren’t for Rolf and the angel-faced Wynne, this job would be absolute torture. Boring beyond belief.

Whatever the problems were that Shadow had vaguely mentioned, they had nothing to do with the way the place had been run. Everything was in order, files up to date, bank accounts balanced, payables paid. Which meant he had nothing to look forward to tonight but hours of alternately staring at the security monitors and playing solitaire on the computer.

Dierk sighed. “So tell me, baby brother, why didn’t you want this job? Looks like it’s a no-brainer. Practically runs itself.”

Rolf shrugged. “Like Shadow said, I like to play. I didn’t want to work here. Are you hating it as much as I thought you would?”

“More.”

“Damn. Sorry, bro.” To his credit, Rolf looked genuinely apologetic.

“No reason to apologize.” Dierk hit a few keys, switching the monitor to the camera focused on the St. Andrew’s cross. A scene was just getting started, a Dom and his female submissive. The Dom was securing his sub’s arms to the cross. “It’s not your fault. No one made me take the job. I could have said no.”

“No, you couldn’t. For all your rebellion, we all know that you have never refused Shadow. Why is that, by the way?”

“Long story.”

“Well, we’ve got lots of time. The club doesn’t close for hours…. Hey, who’s that?” Rolf circled around the desk, peering over Dierk’s shoulder. “Ohhhh, damn.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Move the camera that way.” Rolf pointed at the left edge of the screen.

Dierk hit the keys, remotely adjusting the camera’s angle until it focused on Master Nevin, standing next to a tall blonde. Human, no doubt.

“Shit, that’s Angeleque. She’s not into Nevin but she’s too polite to tell him to take a hike. I should go rescue her.”

“You’re quite the Galahad, aren’t you, bro?” Dierk glanced over his shoulder.

“Hell no, I just don’t like to share my subs.” Rolf clapped Dierk on the back then rushed toward the door. “It’s playtime. Later.”

“Yeah.” Once again, Dierk found himself sitting in an office he had never wanted,
watching
the action going on in the dungeon instead of being the center of it.

This was hell.

Thanks to that hot little brunette, Wynne, his blood was simmering. His cock was hard. His balls were tight.

He wanted a fuck.

He needed to fuck Wynne.

No, that was the last thing he needed: to get involved with a new submissive, a woman who was obviously going to need some stability and patience. Neither stability nor patience came to him naturally.

What the hell was he thinking?

Rolf hurried into the dungeon expecting a fight. Now, on top of the erotic heat blazing through his body, his nerves were on edge. Muscles tight. Fists clenched. Jaw locked. Adrenaline charging through his system.

Nevin, one of his least favorite Doms at Twilight, had his most favorite submissive cornered, literally. And damn if Rolf was going to let the asshole get away with it. Without hesitating, he came up behind the guy and said, “You’re late.”

Nevin threw him a scowl, growling. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”

“My pet.” Rolf pointed at the blonde, currently looking like she was ready to go hysterical on them, any second now.

Dammit, he’d worked so hard to get her this far. He didn’t need Nevin taking her three steps back.

Angeleque was a pain slut. How she loved the whip. But she didn’t handle the containment side of playing at all, due to a persistent case of claustrophobia. The girl panicked if she was blindfolded. She stopped breathing when her arms were restrained. Mummify her, and she’d probably die from terror.

And of course, Nevin just loved containment play. Mummification was his special vice.

Much to Rolf’s surprise, Nevin grunted and stepped aside.

Angeleque rushed past Nevin, eyes wide with fear. “I came looking for you.”

His nerves still raw, Rolf grumbled, “I’ve told you before. You wait for me in the lobby.”

She nodded.

“Now come on.” He nudged her ahead, toward his private suite. He needed relief. Now. An hour spent with Wynne had left him with balls heavier than concrete. “You’ve made me wait long enough.”

“Yes, Master. I’m sorry for being late, Master.”

He followed her, mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she walked. The girl was a runway model, and damn, did she know how to work those mile-long legs of hers. He couldn’t wait until they were locked around his waist.

He unlocked the door, ushered her inside, and then relocked the door behind them. “Strip,” he barked, turning toward the bag Angeleque had carried in with her. He pulled out his cat-o’-nine tails, a dildo, anal plug, lube, and rubbers. By the time he’d filled his arms with the toys, his submissive was naked and on her knees, head bowed, back arched deliciously, full breasts thrust forward.

Her nipples were tight and hard.

His gaze fixed on those pink beaded tips. “Excellent. Now present, my pet.” Damn, he’d forgotten the nipple clamps. He set the supplies on a nearby table, then went back to the bag for the forgotten clamps.

Meanwhile, his pretty plaything ran through her presentation like a pro. She learned quickly, was shaping up to be a fine submissive, despite her fear of being restrained.

He punished her first, for being late, by teasing her with the thong of his whip, letting the leather strap slide over her golden skin instead of striking her with it. Within minutes, goose bumps covered her back and she trembled, murmuring, “I will not be late,” over and over, until she was nearly in tears.

As a reward, he closed the nipple clamps over her tight buds, then told her to stand against the wall, her back to him. Pressing against her back and grinding his pelvis against her soft derriere, he lifted her arms up over her head and kicked her feet apart. “Be still for your reward.”

“Yes, Master.”

He stepped back and sent the whip sailing through the air, snapping at her flesh, striking the top of her left buttock. She sighed but didn’t move. The pink stripe the lash left behind was a glorious sight. He struck her again, this time on her right ass cheek. And again. Again. Until she was panting and hot juices were dripping down her thighs.

The heavy odor of her arousal filled his nostrils, making the weight in his balls five times more agonizing. There was nothing in this world that smelled better than a woman on the verge of coming. It was a fragrance he couldn’t drink in fast enough, take in deep enough.

Intoxicating.

Quickly he tore off his clothing, leaving only his leather pants. Dammit, he wanted to fuck her. His groin was aching with pounding heaviness. But he didn’t fuck his submissives. Never. He would jack off. Later, after Angeleque left him.

Damn, he hoped he could wait that long.

It was Wynne’s fault. He could still see her, in his mind’s eye. That sweet face. Those shyly inquisitive eyes. That lush mouth, so tempting. He’d been in throbbing pain since she’d left.

But that didn’t mean he’d cheat his pet out of her pleasure. No matter how agonizing it was, he’d make himself wait. It was going to fucking kill him, but that was the way it had to be. He had to stay focused on Angeleque, on her needs, on her training.

Now that she’d received a reward, it was time to test her with some restraints. Then he’d reward her once more, reinforcing her training.

His pet loved anal play. Maybe he’d fuck her ass with a dildo. Yes, that was what he’d do. That way, he could imagine he was pounding his rod into Wynne’s tight little anus. He was nipping Wynne’s slender neck. He was sinking his fangs into Wynne’s soft shoulder. He was hearing his name murmured in Wynne’s voice, as she sighed in ecstasy.

“This way.” He helped Angeleque onto the bondage table, positioning her on her back, spread eagle. “It’s time for your test. See if you’ve been doing your homework.”

“Please have mercy on me,” his submissive begged, her eyes filling with fear.

“I’m nothing if not merciful, my pet.” Moving slowly, he fastened one cuff around Angeleque’s slender ankle. He leaned over her, brushing his mouth across her lush lips in a soft, teasing kiss. “But that doesn’t mean I have infinite patience. Believe me, you don’t want to try me today.”