Mr. Smith's Whip (6 page)

Orderly had a hugely eclectic taste in music which surprised him since it was so random. She even liked some of the classic rock he preferred. Again, he was struck with the thought that this was a good pairing.

As the waiter brought the bill and cleared away their plates, Colin was surprised at how quickly the meal had progressed. Though he was anxious for the next step in their sexual journey, he’d enjoyed simply talking with her. He’d often spoken with women for short periods of time, much like he had as he’d walked Livvy to her car the past weeks, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an actual conversation like tonight—or when he’d even wanted to have one.

“Ready?” he asked after the bill was settled.

She nodded quickly. Her teeth sank into her lush lower lip. Such abuse. He had something far better for her to do with her lips…later. Gently, he pulled the abused flesh from beneath her incisors. He tapped the plump bit with his forefinger. “Don’t.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, naturally sensing he’d brought them back into a scene. She dipped her head deferentially and watched him through her lashes as he stood. Her face revealed her torment as she slid from the table and rose. He’d have to be mindful of her ass for the remainder of the evening. He wanted her to remember this first outing for the pleasure not the torture.

Olivia’s stomach was a mass of butterflies as Colin threaded his fingers through hers and led her up front. The silk of her dress brushed constantly against her abused ass, but she couldn’t say she found it disagreeable. In fact, it seemed inordinately sensual, a reminder of his domination over her body. Did that make her a pain whore or a masochist?

She glanced at him as they walked to the coat check desk, and found Colin looking at her.

His gaze was possessive. Owning. Devouring. Right then, in that moment, she was his.

“I left a small bag earlier,” Colin told the clerk, handing over a small plastic card. In return, he was given a leather satchel from beneath the counter. It all seemed strange, but before she could question it, he led her down a dim passage and away from the restaurant’s front entrance. A door with a keypad beside it loomed ahead of them, and Colin paused before it.

“My coat?” she asked.

“I already had it delivered to my locker at the club—our under-table ‘waiter’,” he clarified. “The restaurant and
The Dungeon
share this wall. You’re about to enter my domain.”

“Yes, Sir.” His words were a warning, but she wasn’t sure of what. She felt a bit like Alice about to fall down the rabbit hole. She had no idea what to expect, but she had a feeling it would be beyond her wildest fantasy. So far it already had been.

Setting the satchel on the floor, he opened it then reached inside. Her eyes widened as he withdrew a black leather collar with a silver buckle and three matching D-rings. Watching her, he straightened. The length of the band was pulled straight between his hands.

“Lift your hair,” he ordered.

“But—”

“Olivia!” he bit out in warning.

She eyed the collar. Was it too demeaning? Was it a deal breaker for her? No. She could do this. Her cunt was already flooding at the idea. Reaching for her hair, she lifted it out of his way. A shudder spiraled down her spine as the cool surface touched her neck. He fastened it behind her neck then slid his hands to her shoulders. She shifted, testing the unfamiliar binding.

It was tight against her neck, much like a choker. It wasn’t so tight she couldn’t breathe, but it would reminder her of its presence all night. Between her ass and this, there was no way she’d forget her place as a sub.

And she felt nothing but excitement. She’d wanted this for so long, and she’d thought it would never happen. Still, the collar was a surprise. Raising her hand, she tentatively fingered it while he retrieved something else from his bag. Her eyes widened when he produced a short lead. Before she had a chance for protest, he clipped it to the front D-ring. Wrapping the links around his hand just in front of her throat, he tugged her abruptly to him.

“Mine,” he growled.

“Yes,” she gasped as lava flowed through her veins. His mouth covered hers, his kiss almost savage as he staked his claim. His lips forced hers apart and his tongue swept inside. She moaned at the heady euphoria overcoming her as he grasped her wrist and pulled it behind her back. The other followed. Liking the sensation of her chest pushed against him, she stayed in position even as his hand moved around to her front to squeeze her breast.

Pulling his mouth free from hers, he lowered his head then covered the peak. He drew the nipple, silk and all, hard between his lips. Olivia lurched as the cord of nerves between the tip and her cunt pulled tight. Spears of electricity spiked into her extremities.

She whimpered as he pulled away. She needed him to fuck her, to push her against the wall and just fuck her. Hard and fast and again and again. A flush swept through her body, making her limbs heavy with desire. She reached for him, only to find her hands cuffed behind her back. Her eyes went wide.

How…?

Colin raised a brow. Without explanation, he pulled a card from his pants pocket and slid it through a slot beside the door then typed in a four-digit code. A green light flashed on the keypad, and she heard a click. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he grabbed her chain and without a word tugged her into his lair.

Chapter Five

Olivia had expected to see dark corridors, brick and leather as they entered
The Dungeon.

Instead, the wide hallway they entered was brightly lit and painted a homey sage green. Cream wainscoting lined the bottom halves of the walls, and low-piled cream carpet with a sage and red geometric design ran the length of the floor. Soft chamber music played from hidden speakers and completed the surreal setting. It was as if she were being led, handcuffed, into an office building. She half expected a frenzied secretary to come rushing out of one of the closed doors along the hall.

Colin stopped halfway down the corridor and opened the door there. Inside a woman with spiky red hair reclined behind a counter, her feet on the surface while she read a magazine. At their entrance, she swung her legs down and stood.

Olivia blinked as she looked at the stranger. She looked like a manga action figure in her short, short pleated skirt cropped top and jacket, white thigh-highs and patent leather pumps.

“Mr. Smith!” the woman exclaimed with a smile. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Hullo Syb. What’s this?” he asked, motioning to her clothes.

“Duh, this is my Sailor Moon costume. Master likes it. Hopefully, he’ll be down later if things stay calm in Security. Besides, I like it. What’s the point of having a dress-up job if you can’t have fun?”

He chuckled. “Why indeed? And that’s why we’re here.” He gave Olivia’s chain a little tug and brought her forward. For the first time, a shot of humiliation pierced her. What was she doing and why was she letting him do this to her? In front of other people?

Syb came around the counter. “You need her dressed?”

“Yes. I made an appointment earlier with my instructions.”

“Right-o, old chap,” she quipped in a terrible Brit imitation accompanied by a cheeky salute. “I’ll get her all fixed up then bring her to you. Where will that be?”

“I’ll be reading on four.”

“Gotcha! I’ll have her there in about twenty minutes.”

“Perfect.”

He turned to leave, but Syb stopped him. “Dude! The chain. You know I don’t touch one unless it’s my own.”

Torn between fascination and irritation, Olivia watched the pair converse as if she weren’t right there. Questions assailed her. Colin had requested for her to be “dressed”? The idea gnawed at her, though it hadn’t when he’d sent her clothes earlier. Perhaps that was because it had been between only the two of them. Now, there was a third, another
woman
, involved. Olivia didn’t really like it. Didn’t he trust her to pick her own things? Did he find her regular clothing boring?

She also found his interaction with Syb intriguing. Syb was obviously a sub, but she didn’t seem deferential to Colin other than his title. It confused Olivia. Colin seemed so strict with her, dominating all her actions when they were in a scene—which she sensed was
now
. His demeanor only backed down slightly when they weren’t in the midst of D/s action. It was obvious he was a natural leader and, dare she say, Master.

“I’ll see you shortly, love,” he said, turning Olivia. Approval lit his features. Warmth seeped through her and washed away some of her confusion. What he required of her was different from anyone else. She pleased him, as no one else did. Heat kindling in his eyes, he pulled her forward. “Behave for Syb,” he rasped for her ears only. “And no one touches you. No one but me. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, feeling the dampness rush to her folds at his possessive demand.

Apparently satisfied, he unclipped the chain from her collar. Grabbing her upper arms, he yanked her to him. The chain bit into her flesh as it was trapped between his hand and her skin, but she ceased to notice as he kissed her with all the passion of a man about to plunge his cock into his lover. Her heart slammed into her ribcage as her body responded. Her blood pulsed behind her ears like a gushing stream while her limbs shook as if she’d run miles with no rest.

Heavy longing settled in her core. She needed him, yet this was goodbye—for now. She’d still have to wait.

Slowly lifting his head, he stared into her eyes. “The best is yet to come, Livvy.”
Oh, please, yes.

Breathless, she watched him leave. Immediately, she felt the emptiness throbbing inside her. How had she become so connected to the man in such a short time?

“You have questions,” Syb said behind her.

“More than you can imagine,” Olivia murmured.

To her shock, Syb’s cool fingers linked through hers where they were still bound behind her back. She pulled Olivia toward one of the doors behind the desk. “I can probably imagine. I was you once. A newbie, I mean. I used to be an assistant for a fashion designer—a not very well-known one either. Not long after I met him, my Master introduced me to this place. Now I am the designer, and I don’t put up with a bunch of crap from a power-hungry narcissist.”

“That seems odd to hear in this place,” Olivia said, looking around. The room they’d entered was full of clothing racks, all jammed full of plastic covered garments. They circled all four walls. A metal walkway ran the circumference of the area and housed another row of racks.

Syb laughed. “The Masters and Mistresses here aren’t power-hungry. They have all the power they want. My ex was a wannabe—yeah, I worked for my boyfriend. Bad combo. Now, stay right here,” she said, leaving Olivia in the middle of the huge room. She giggled as she headed for a computer station a few feet away. “Welcome to my lair.”

“It’s enormous. You did all these clothes?”

She nodded. “I have a lot of time on my hands. Master keeps me so worked up all the time then he spends long hours working.”

Olivia licked her bottom lip, overwhelmed by this world she’d plunged into. She’d never imagined such a sexual underground existed. Oh sure, she’d heard about them, but she’d assumed rumors were vastly exaggerated. Yet Colin had introduced her into a subculture she didn’t quite fathom.

“Do you ever call him anything but Master?” she asked.

Syb studied her, suddenly quite serious. “Not around here, and not without permission.”

“You’re afraid of him?”

“Are you afraid of Colin?” Syb asked, showing she knew his name. She looked away and clicked a fingernail on her screen. There was no keyboard, leading Olivia to believe it was completely touch activated. So this place was a forerunner in tech savvy, too.

She shook her head. “No. Not afraid at all.”

“But you only call him by his Dom name, correct? Unless you’re allowed otherwise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Syb asked. “Why do you do as he says? Why do you allow him to put a collar on you and lead you by a chain?”

Olivia drew in a sharp breath at the harsh questions. Was this what Syb really thought?

“Submission isn’t about fear,” the woman continued. “Or at least, it shouldn’t be. It’s about your mutual satisfaction.”

She dug into a drawer beneath the computer screen then walked back to Olivia. Gently, she turned her. Olivia felt a key being slid into the lock of one of the cuffs. In a moment, she was free. Reflexively, she pulled her wrists in front of her and massaged them though they weren’t hurt. She hadn’t worn them for very long.

“This is a safe place, sweetness. There are hard and fast rules around here. The most important rules involve behavior toward submissives. No one is to attempt a scene with an attached sub other than their own. No one, sub or Dom, is allowed to enter a scene without permission. No Dom may exert control over a sub without direct permission from his or her Master. That means you don’t have to address them as Sir, Master, Mr. or anything like that unless your Master has instructed you to do so—or in my case, unless your job has instructed you to. Anyone who breaks these rules risks censure at minimum and permanent expulsion from the club at maximum.”

Syb circled her, a hand to her chin. Both handcuffs were looped around one wrist like a goth-like bracelet. “I’m Sybil, by the way,” she said, still studying Olivia. “Everyone calls me Syb or Sybbie.”

“I’m Olivia.”

“Nice to meet you. It’s good to see Colin with someone. What size are you?” Following Syb’s train of thought was exhausting. “Six.”

“Great. I have just the thing…” She trailed off as she walked away. Suddenly, she turned.

“Odd question. Are you a librarian?”

“Yes…”

“Hmm, thought so.” She disappeared into a bank of clothes before Olivia could question her. Olivia’s brow furrowed. Did she
look
like a librarian? She knew what the stereotypical look was, and in truth, she occasionally dressed that way—straight-laced and bespectacled. She didn’t think she looked anything like that now.