Kingston, Sara - Grace's Final Submission [Locks and Chains] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (24 page)

Grace
lay in the bed, only opening her eyes after the door had closed. She lay on the bed as the tears poured from her, thinking about how much she’d missed and needed them. Also how very much she loved them. She also wondered if she actually hated them for what they had done. They had, at the first sign of trouble, doubted her and then dumped her. They hadn’t been there when she’d lost Anna. Scolding herself, she had to be fair. They didn’t know then about her being pregnant or about the terrible verdict she’d been given by the doctors, and maybe if they had, things would have been different.
No, it wouldn’t. You still would have lost her and they still kicked you out, and they wouldn’t let you explain.
Grace rolled over in the bed and cried herself to sleep.
Tomorrow will be a new day. Tomorrow things will be better.

Grace frantically looked around, searching for clues as to where she was. Then she remembered she was back with Michael and Jason. She felt a pain in her chest so acute she had to rub and push against it with her hand. Waking with pain though was becoming familiar to her now. She accidently elbowed Michael, who was sleeping to her right. But it was Jason who woke first. “Good Morning, Mistress,” he parroted.

“What are you both doing in my bed?” Racking her memory for what happened last night, she clearly remembered sending them out of the room.

“We both woke to the sounds of screaming and came in to find you having a nightmare. After calming you down, we just had to hold you.”

“Okay.” Grace didn’t know how she was supposed to handle this information, so doing her best head-in-the-sand impression, she ignored it.

“Slaves, I want bacon, eggs, and waffles for breakfast. I also want you to find two training collars so I can dress you both properly. I wouldn’t want you to forget your places.” Grace snickered as she glanced at Michael, who was awake but lying there in stony silence. The image of him in a collar made her break into open laughter.
My, my, this will be fun.
“Slave Jason, you may go start on breakfast. Slave Michael, you will wake your Mistress the way every good slave should and then go out and buy the collars.” Grace threw the sheet off her body, exposing her nakedness. “Actually, Slave Jason, I want you to stay and watch your slave brother worship his Mistress.” Jason’s chuckles echoed through the room. He was enjoying this as much as she was.

Michael
looked to the ceiling, hoping a worm hole, a black hole, a hell hole, or a portal to another dimension would open and take him from this place. He swallowed all the smart-ass remarks he wanted to make and rolled onto his knees. If Grace wanted to be worshiped, he would worship her so much that she would be begging him to stop.

“Before you begin, slave, let me tell you that I want you to bring me to orgasm with your mouth and fingers only. You are not to orgasm, and you are not to draw out my orgasm, nice and quick, slave.”

There goes that plan
. The suffering would continue. He knew he’d be spending the day walking around with a painful hard-on, and he couldn’t blame anyone. He crawled to her, licking and lapping at her leg. “Ah…very good, slave. Slave Jason, come here. I want to play with my toy.” Jason moved closer to Grace and groaned as she took his cock into her hand. She pumped and massaged him, and rubbed the drops of his pre-cum over the crown of his cock.
He started to slowly push forward, fucking her hand. “No, no, my slave, you also don’t get to come. I don’t want my toys to make me sticky.”

Jason growled in frustration and ceased all movement. “Yes, Mistress.”

He watched as
Michael performed his magic with his tongue and lips until he saw her orgasm roll over her and literally curl her toes.

“Slaves, it’s time for my breakfast and to go get those collars.”

“Yes, Mistress,” they both parroted, Michael in a huff. Grace watched as they both left the bedroom and realized she didn’t really know what she should be doing with them. She had never researched the role of a dominatrix. She had never even ventured to the male sex toys aisle in the store, so to speak. She knew cock rings and artificial vaginas existed, but the cock cage thingy that Mistress Karen had on her slave boy at the club, well…That was something very different. She needed to get in contact with Karen and find out how best to torture Michael and Jason. Maybe it was time to take them to the club as she’d promised. This time they can get the “naked at my feet” treatment…hmm!
Imagine me walking in with them both naked and collared and me holding their leashes. God yes.
She headed to the shower thinking about the tortures she could inflict on them.

She found Jason in the kitchen naked and collared. Michael was setting the table. He was also naked but no collar. “Where is your collar, Slave Michael?” she asked as she spied it on the bench. Michael looked into her face, his eyes pleading for her not to do it. Grace nearly faltered at the vulnerability she saw, but then she remembered he had sent her packing before she could even explain what had happened. He hadn’t trusted her. Snatching the collar off the bench, “Kneel before me, slave,” she demanded. Michael reluctantly walked over to her and slowly lowered himself. Grace opened the collar, fit it around his throat, and fastened the buckle. “There, now you are properly dressed as a true slave should be,” she said in a rush then turned away so she couldn’t see the look in his eyes.

Michael
looked up at the woman he loved. He saw the pain and regret flash through her eyes followed quickly by a blinding anger, and he wondered again if she could ever forgive him. How could she ever let those feeling go?

Chapter Twenty-One

The last week had gone by quickly although Michael didn’t feel they had made any progress in gaining Grace’s forgiveness, and wearing this damn collar was grating on his nerves.
How the hell does Grace handle this? I mean, this thing rubs.
Granted, they had purchased her a jeweled choker, not something that resembled a dog collar, but still. He shook his head in disgust at his thoughts and dipped the scrubbing brush back in the bucket and scrubbed, taking his frustration out on the tile of the master bathroom floor. Also this being naked in the house all the time sucked. The chairs were cold, the fat spat at him when he cooked dinner, and his bits got in the way when he was cleaning, like now.
Ugh…
Grace had been milking this dominatrix thing for all it was worth. Not only had he suffered her sexual demands where two out of three times he was not permitted to come, but also the house cleaning chores.

“You got floor-scrubbing duty again?” Jason called out as he put away the freshly laundered towels.

“Yes, just because you’re a good little slave and get all the easy tasks.”

“
Tsk
…
tsk
…no need to be snappy, Slave Michael.” Jason laughed.

“Laugh it up because when this is over I’m going to pay you back, boy.”

Jason sobered at that thought. “I’m not sure this is ever going to be over.”

“Nor am I.”

Continuing with the chores in silence, he prayed she’d be able to accept them and love them again. He also questioned whether they deserved her after what they had done
.

Grace
opened the door with her arms full of packages from her shopping trip. She couldn’t wait to see the faces of the boys when they saw her outfit. Or what she had bought for them, not to mention what she had planned for tonight. The humiliation they were about to feel would be priceless. A tinge of guilt entered her mind, but she quickly squashed it with the memory of losing Anna alone. More determined than ever, she prepared.

“Slaves, I want you both to shower, shave, and wear the outfits laid out on the bed. We are going to the club tonight.” Grace smirked as she walked away and saw the jaw-dropping expression on Michael’s face.

“She wouldn’t,” Michael croaked.

“She would.”

“But we…no.”

“Michael, make up your mind. If you can’t handle the humiliation that she needs us to suffer for what we did to her, then by all means call it quits, but I’m going.”

“Jason, you can’t be serious. Haven’t we suffered enough?”

Jason turned to face him, anger so real it was seething
from the pores of his skin. “Michael…She…Lost…Our…Baby…Alone! We abandoned her. We threw her away like some garbage. The woman we both love and the mother of our child, we kicked her out.” Breathing heavy and trying to stop the tears in his eyes from falling, he growled to Michael.
“I will suffer anything she wants. Because she could never make me suffer like she did. She could never make me feel the pain, the fear, and the betrayal she felt. So suck it up or leave.” Jason stomped off toward the bedroom. Michael sucked in a deep breath. Jason had never spoken to him in such a heartfelt way before, and it was then that he realized how selfish he was really being. He realized that while he hated being submissive to her, he was still thinking of himself. He now understood why Jason had done what he did. Jason was willing to give anything, to take just one ounce of the pain away from Grace. He loved her so much he was willing to do anything to heal her. She deserved so much, and it was true. She could never do anything to them that could make them feel half of what she must have. He deserved everything he got and so much more…a lifetime of more.

Thankfully the club was not full as they walked through the doors. Michael and Jason both had death grips on the cloaks covering them. “Slaves, hand over your cloaks.” Both men looked at each other, and taking deep breaths, they removed them and handed them to the doorman. Her smirk and chuckle was like salt into an open wound, and they both knew it was only going to get worse. Michael again looked at Grace in her thigh-high black leather boots, black leather corset, and hot pants. She looked like a sexy dominatrix that could make any man fall at her feet. With her high ponytail and
bloodred
lipstick, images of vampires came to mind. Grace clipped the leads to each of their collars and led them to the seating area. “Slaves, kneel at my feet where all good slaves should be.” Both men knelt reluctantly.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Karen asked as she walked toward the basically naked and collared slaves at Grace’s feet.

“Hello, Mistress Karen. I see you are admiring my new slaves.”

“How the mighty have fallen. So, my dear, how did you actually get these slaves?”

“They’re contracted for six weeks as, let’s say, a punishment. While Jason here is quite open to the idea, Slave Michael is not a happy camper.” Karen threw back her head, laughing so hard she almost choked.

“Grace, my dear, let me first say I have missed you, and your punishment for their stupidity is perfect. If you need any help training your slaves, just call. I know it’s your first time being a Mistress, and you’ll want to get the most out of your boys in the time you have.”

“You’re so right. We should talk. I know there’s a lot of equipment out there for slave boys that I have no idea how to use.” Michael cringed at the conversation. This was now officially his worst nightmare. The twinkle in Karen’s eye screamed enjoyment. Unfortunately, there was no matching twinkle in Grace’s. Since this morning she had been sad, her eyes were void of any emotion. He looked at Jason, who looked as uncomfortable as he was, although he didn’t seem to despise the situation as much.

Michael realized that during his internal chat with himself he had missed more of the conversations between Grace and Karen. Before he could dwell on it though, the deep-throated laugh of none other than Craig Blackwell echoed through the seating area of the club.

“Grace, my dear, may I say you looked spectacular as always, and I see you’ve brought your men to heel, literally.”

“Thank you, Craig. It’s good to see you again.” Grace tugged on the collars of the boys. “Well, boys, say hello to Master Craig.”

“Hello, Master Craig,” Jason replied.