NaughtyNature

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Naughty Nature

ISBN 9781419935190

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Naughty Nature Copyright © 2011 Allie Standifer

Edited by Helen Woodall

Cover art by Syneca

Electronic book publication July 2011

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Naughty Nature

Allie Standifer

Dedication

To Samantha Cayto.

Even though miles separate us, I cherish our friendship and
those rare together times. You’re a great roomie, friend and writing buddy. I
wouldn’t have been able to take this step without your continued support.
Thanks for yanking me to the dark side. They do have better cookies.

Chapter One

The expensive, elegant yet unadorned card felt heavy between
the smooth skin of her fingers. Aria knew it was only her imagination and
anticipation giving it more importance than the business card deserved.

1-800-DOM-help

The who, how and why remained unanswered. Aria knew the
where. Right smack-dab in the middle of her
personal
tool box, under her
bed. Normally something appearing out of nowhere would freak her out, sending
her running for the nearest police department, but interest kept her feet
firmly planted in her apartment.

Should she? Shouldn’t she? Nice girls didn’t want to be
dominated, did they? Good girls never fantasized about being taken in the ass,
right? A normal woman wouldn’t want to submit to a man, give him complete
control over her body? Let him pleasure her anyway he wanted?

Shit
! Why was this so hard for her? At thirty-four
Aria Dunson knew her mind and lived a generally guilt-free existence. But something
about this card made her yearn for all the wicked dreams to turn into reality.
To let the fantasies that only lived in her mind out to become actuality.

“Screw it,” she muttered and picked up her phone. With
slightly shaking fingers she punched in the number.

“Thank you for calling 1-800-DOM-help. This is the Operator.
How may I be of assistance?”

The male voice that floated over the line was smooth and
smoky, with just the right touch of sexual innuendo.

“Hello?” the Operator asked when she didn’t say anything.

“Um…hi.”

“Hi back. May I help you with something?” Amusement rang in
his sexy voice.

Right, she almost smacked her head with the cell phone.
“Yes, I received your card and wanted to get a little more information.”

There, that sounded a little better and more like her normal
take-charge self.

“Ahh, I see. Are you interested in the role of a Domme or a
submissive?”

“Oh no… I mean…crap…umm… Dominated. Submissive. Or at least
I think so. You see I’m not too sure, but I do know I’m not calling any man
master or licking feet. Oh and I have no desire to eat dinner off the floor in
a bowl marked Fido and I don’t share well so there’s no chance I’d want to be
passed around like a large party tray.” She babbled nervously, thinking of all
the bondage sites she’d looked over, late at night with a glass of wine in
hand.

The Operator’s husky chuckle caused things to tingle low in
her stomach. “I’m here to ensure you make a wise decision, Ms….”

That stopped her. Should she give her real name? What if he
came into her shop? Bric-Brac might not be a Fortune 500 company but still
there was her professional reputation to protect.

“Should I do that? Give you my real name, I mean. I really
have no idea how this works.” Could she sound more like a scared high school
virgin? “I’m not usually this inept either,” she made a vain attempt to
explain.

“It makes this much easier if I know whom I speaking with.
Not to mention pairing you up with just the right Dom.” He took a quick breath
then continued before she could interrupt him again. “The lifestyle of BDSM is
not for everyone. However, you would not have received the card if you weren’t
inclined to it. Before I attempt to pair you with one of our Doms I’d better
explain exactly what will be expected of you.”

“Umm…okay.” Why oh why hadn’t she’d she thought this through
better? Now this crazy sex perv knew her cell number.

“First off, members are vetted in every way possible.
Backgrounds, physicals, and when possible psych evals. We don’t let just anyone
into our playground because not everyone wants to be there for the right
reasons. Now, that said, if you agree to come as a submissive then that is the
part you will become. When the doors are closed you will address your Dom in
the manner he prefers. Some like Master, others Lord, a few even like Sire or
Sir. You will respect your Dom or else you’ll be punished. Even though this is
your first time in a club as a submissive you need to understand that any sign
of rebellion, disrespect or rudeness will not be tolerated. If any of this
occurs your Dom will call a halt to the session and you’ll be escorted out of
the club. Another invitation will not be issued. Do you understand these terms
as I’ve explained them?”

Though his voice had changed from naughty sex toy to
corporate lawyer Aria still picked up the absolute sincerity of his tone.
Everything he told her was nothing she hadn’t read about on the few real BDSM
sites she’d found. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good, then please describe the type of Dom you’re
interested in. Man or woman?”

“Oh absolutely a man. I’m not into women at all.”

“Very good.” The Operator sounded matter-of-fact as she
listened to the clatter of keys as he typed something. Who knew Dom/s hookups
were this technical? “What else?”

“Someone around my own age. I have nothing against older or
younger men, but not in a sexual context. It would definitely help if I found
him attractive.”

The Operator snorted in laughter. “I should say so.”

His little sign of humanity gave her the courage to
continue. “Like I said, I want to be dominated, but not humiliated. I’m an
independent person in every sense, but I want to let go and just be in the
bedroom. Does that make any sense?”

“Of course it does and I have the perfect man in mind. He’s
not into slaves, has never been known to share and is looking for a female
willing to be taught about the real BDSM lifestyle.” The sexy humor dropped
from his voice as he continued. “The BDSM life is about trust and respect, no
one makes another do anything against their will. There will be no eating off
floors, sharing or anything else popular culture has gotten wrong. Trust and
respect, remember those two words and your time with the BDSM scene will be
fine.”

“
The real lifestyle
?” she parroted, wondering what he
could mean. “I’m sorry. I’m so new to this I still have that plastic smell.
There is no disrespect intended…to anyone. I’m trying to find my footing
without burying myself in the meantime.”

The Operator laughed again and those damn tingles started
all over again. “True BDSM has many faces and only a handful involve submerging
yourself 24/7. I think what you’re looking for is more in line of light
bondage, some anal play and possibly light flogging.”

Shocked, Aria pulled the phone away from her ear to stare at
it with what she knew to be a stupid expression on her face. How did he know
that? Was her apartment bugged? Feeling more nervous than when she’d made the
call, Aria put the phone back to her ear. “Um, how did you do that?”

“I am the Operator. It’s my job to know what you need and
make sure you find the perfect person to give it to you.” The dark voice rang
with sincerity that calmed her nerves quicker than a bottle of her favorite
chocolate wine.

“Okay then, let’s say you’re right—”

“I am right,” he shot back smugly.

“Fine, you are right. Then what? What do I do next? Call you
up and get lessons? Is this an hourly charge or something because I’d hate to
have a million-dollar cell phone bill? How the hell would I explain that to my
CPA? I mean his name is Leonard. Can you really see a Leonard understanding my
trip to the dark side?” She babbled again, wondering just how far she was
willing to go with this. Talking to a strange sexy voice on the phone was one
thing, but to act out her most clandestine, darkest desires? Well, that had better
involve something a bit stronger than her favorite chocolaty Merlot.

“You really are a virgin, aren’t you?” He laughed and she
could hear the sound of leather creaking and pictured him leaning back in some
expensive black leather chair with the phone tucked in between his neck and
ear. “No, this isn’t being charged to your mobile carrier. You do remember you
dialed an 800 number, right?”