Undone Dom (2 page)

When she didn’t finish Alton said, “Domination.”

“She should still have a choice.”

“She had a choice—Lane. She must trust that he will make decisions pleasing to both of them, assuming her goal is greater sexual pleasure and freedom and not sexual servitude.”

Lulu shook her head. “I don’t really understand.”

“BDSM is complex. If you’re not trained as a Master or slave there is no reason you should understand.” He stood and crossed the space between them. “But I think you’d like to.”

He touched her, one thick finger under her chin. Lulu gasped as a shiver raced down her whole body. She stared straight ahead—at his belt buckle. Her hands—one on her stomach, the other on the arm of her chair—curled into fists.

“Why?” she asked again.

“Be more specific.” He traced his finger from her chin along the line of her ear and back.

“Why me?”

“You’re sexually submissive.”

Lulu took a breath and closed her eyes. His touch and words aroused her. Her nipples were tight buds inside the cups of her bra and she could feel the slick moisture of her arousal in her sex.

If he’d tried to tell her she was submissive she would have denied it. She’d been down that road with so-called “strong” men she’d dated in the past who thought that they could control everything in her life once they were with her. But a sexual submissive, that sounded decadent, naughty and very, very sexy.

“I’ve never…” She didn’t know what to say so she let the statement trail off.

“You’ve never been in a formal BDSM scene or relationship.”

She nodded.

“But you’re curious. You’re interested.” He cupped her chin, tilted her face up until their gazes met. “And you’re aroused.”

She licked her lips and whispered, “Yes.”

She hoped he would smile again, but the stern mask was firmly in place. He dipped his head in a slow nod, then took a step back so her neck was not craned at an uncomfortable angle in order to see him.

“I will train you.”

“Train me? To do what?” Lulu’s fingers were starting to shake with a combination of nerves and fear.

“Train you to be a sex slave.”

Lulu jerked back at his words, the contact broken. His hand hovered in the air for a moment before dropping to his side.

“No.” The word came out shaky so she said it again. “No. I don’t want that.”

“You don’t know what it means.”

“I know a bit. From Addie, and from the internet.”

He raised his eyebrows but Lulu held her ground. Disappointment was settling like a stone in her gut. Story of her life—she admits to finding him arousing and the next thing she knows he’s talking about making her his sex slave. According to Addie “slaves” as opposed to “subs” were men and women who lived the lifestyle full-time. They slept in cages and ate out of dog bowls and never wore
clothes
. Lulu petted her dress nervously.

“The term frightens you.”

“Sex slave?” She had to force the words out. “Yes, it does. I’m not that. If that’s why you came back, I’m sorry.”

Alton considered her for a moment. “I don’t know what you’ve been told about BDSM, or me. When you train with me you will put aside all that and see what I show you. Experience what I do to you.”

Damn.
A fresh shiver of fear-flavored arousal shook her.

“I’m not going to be a sex slave.”

Alton inclined his head. “Perhaps not.”

Tension slipped from Lulu’s shoulders but she was no longer blinded by her desire. She had to remember what they’d said about him. Lane had told Addie that at any given time, Alton kept five women naked in his house, serving him or being trained. He was like a sultan with a harem.

Lulu had always thought she’d make a rather good concubine—she was sexy and savvy.

But that was a fantasy, one she’d been playing with since he’d first come to the shop. This was reality.

Alton retreated to his chair and took a seat. He braced his elbows on his knees, leaned forward. “You would like to know more about BDSM.”

She nodded.

“You are submissive, and would like to experience sexual submission.”

She gave half a nod, then stopped. “Do you know how to do things besides the submission? Addie told me that BDSM stands for Bondage, Domination and Sadism and Masochism. Do you know how to do stuff besides the domination?”

His brows started to climb his forehead.

“No sadism or anything like that,” Lulu hurried to say. “But the…toys and, um, well, you mentioned punishment, but I didn’t know.”

Alton looked away from her. His gaze scanned her store from the paintings on the walls to the books on the table in front of her. He pulled one from the stack, a collection of racy and nude pinup photos, including several of girls getting spanked. She held her breath as he opened the book and flipped through the pages.

When he reached the end he carefully closed the book and set it on top of the stack before looking at her.

He smiled. “Yes, I know about more than just domination.”

Chapter Two

Lulu turned onto a tree-lined street in Brentwood and whistled. It was a warm day in L.A. but she felt the temperature drop as the house prices climbed, as if the heat didn’t dare intrude in this part of the city.

She checked the dot on her phone’s map, and slowed as it hovered near the end of the line, studying the house numbers on the right side of the street. When she spotted the gold numbers on the front of a sleek, modern home, she pulled in to the curb. The house was dove gray with sharp corners and square construction, almost as if it had been made out of Legos. But it wasn’t ugly, the lines and proportions were graceful and tall, with narrow windows cut through the two-story front. The door was situated through a bush arch, also square, to the left of center in a section of the house that was only a single story.

To the right of the house was a black metal and opaque glass gate across the driveway. Clicking through her phone, Lulu checked the message Alton had sent her.

When you arrive at the house come up the driveway. Enter the code 2376# on the keypad. Follow the driveway to the house at the back. Park in any open space.

Lulu backed up and turned into the driveway. Alton must live in the guesthouse. That made more sense than thinking he owned a house in Brentwood. Lulu assumed he had a day job of some kind, but if he spent most of his time being a Dom it probably was just a job, not a career that would buy him a multimillion-dollar house like that, especially when he couldn’t be older than thirty-five.

She entered the code in the silver keypad mounted on black metal beside the driveway. The metal and glass gate swung in, exposing a surprisingly long stretch of concrete. Lulu drove forward. Once she was in, tall bushes rose on either side of the car. On her right, bordering the neighbors, it was plain box hedge, but on the left, shielding what she assumed was a backyard for the main house, was bougainvillea, the flowers a vibrant fuchsia. After fifty feet the driveway turned sharply to the left.

A small house built in the same ultramodern style as the main house sat at the end of the driveway. It was surrounded by high shrubs and walls of bougainvillea, almost as if it were the prize in the center of a maze. Directly in front was a large area of concrete with several parked cars.

The nerves she’d felt since agreeing to do this were now verging on full panic. Lulu parked next to an unassuming Toyota and climbed out. She smoothed down her skirt and blouse. Opening her black-and-white polka-dot clutch, which matched the bows on her heels, she added a dab of gloss to her lips. She knew her makeup would be perfect, from the pale shimmery eye shadow to the black eyeliner and mascara. She had long ago given up on drugstore brands and used stage makeup—it was much easier to keep on.

Hesitantly, clutch pressed to her stomach, she headed for the shiny black door at the front of the small house—which was absolutely larger than her apartment. As she walked past the second car, a black Lexus, she wondered if it or the Toyota was Alton’s.

And, she wondered, who’d arrived in the other car?

It was Monday, the one day her shop was closed. She’d been surprised that Alton had wanted to meet during the day instead of in the evening, but maybe he worked in the evenings.

She’d nearly panicked when they picked an actual day and time—that made it real—until he told her that their first meeting would allow her to look and learn.

As she neared the door, Lulu looked back at the cars and wondered exactly who she’d be looking at.

She rang the bell.

A naked woman opened the door.

Lulu sucked in a breath, then slowly let it out. The woman wasn’t precisely naked as she was draped in bits of silver chain, but she certainly wasn’t wearing clothes. The woman kept her gaze down as she stepped back, holding the door open for Lulu.

She should go. She should run back to her car, jump in it and get out of here.

Lulu walked in. The naked woman shut the door behind her. She was in a small foyer with another door directly in front of her. On her right was a wall of cubbies, each with a canvas box in it. The naked girl finished closing the door then moved to the second, inner door, hand on the knob.

Lulu waited for her to open it. She seemed to be waiting for Lulu to do something. Lulu was looking everywhere but at the girl, because every time she looked at her she couldn’t help but try to figure out where all those chains went, what they were attached to.

They stood there for what seemed like a long time.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Lulu said. The woman was good-looking, with a nice, if not toned body, and in her mid-forties. “Is there something I’m supposed to do?”

She shifted, the chains tapping together like jewelry, but did not answer. Had she missed a piece of instruction from Alton? No, she’d read each message he’d sent her since they met last week at least a dozen times. She hadn’t missed anything.

The door opened. The woman stumbled as the knob was pulled from her grasp.

Alton stood in the opening, wearing jeans and a black leather vest. The vest was open, baring the rippling muscles of his chest and belly from his neck to the top of his low-riding jeans.

The woman sank to her knees in front of Alton. She kept her back straight, her feet flexed so her toes were on the floor. She raised her arms and linked her fingers behind her neck.

Alton looked over her briefly, said, “Good,” then brushed by her.

He just walked by her, as if it were completely normal for a naked chain-draped woman to drop to her knees at the sight of him.

Because it was normal.

She couldn’t do this.

Lulu met his gaze for a moment, her eyes wide, then turned for the door.

Alton took a step, reached out a long arm and pressed his palm to the door.

“If you decide to leave then you may, but do not run out of fear.”

Lulu held the knob with a death grip. “I can’t do this.”

Alton put his free hand on her back, his touch firm and warm. “Look at me.”

Lulu bit her lower lip and then slowly shook her head. His breath fluttered over her cheek as he sighed. He took his hand off the door and cupped her face, turning it to him. He was big, standing at least six inches taller than her, even in her heels, and almost as wide as the door.

“Lulu, look at me.”

Lulu met his gaze.

His dark eyes sparkled, even in the dim light of the foyer. His face was stern, scarily so, but she remembered what he looked like when he smiled.

“Come inside. You will see the things you’re curious about. Things no friend or the internet could relate to you.”

“What was I supposed to do? Why didn’t she open the door?”

Alton took a moment to answer and there was an expression on his face she couldn’t read. Lulu realized she’d covered the back of his hand with her own, cradling it as he cupped her face. She dropped her hand, embarrassment stealing over her.

“Only Doms and Masters may wear clothing inside.”

Lulu took in a long, slow breath. “I have to take off my clothes?”

“Yes.”

“But… I… We just met. And you’re just guessing I’m submissive.” Lulu raised her chin. “Maybe I’m a Dom too.”

He smiled. It grew, lighting up his face as it did. She had a crazy urge to taste his cute dimple with her tongue but restrained herself.

“You make keep on your undergarments, as you are not yet anyone’s sub or slave, but next time you enter you will be naked.” He dropped his hand from her face and stepped back. “Select an empty bucket and place your clothes in it.” He motioned to the wall of cubbies behind her.

With trembling fingers, Lulu unbuttoned her white cap-sleeved blouse and slipped it off. She folded it neatly before pulling out a canvas bin, setting it on the floor and setting the shirt in it. Next she unfastened her full skirt and stepped out of it, adding it to the bin. She took off her shoes and placed them on their sides on top of her clothes, then put the bin back in place before turning to face Alton.

She was still wearing a cream silk-and-lace slip, bra, panties, garter and stockings. The slip went to mid-thigh. The only problem was it was slightly see-through and the black-and-white polka-dot bra and panties she’d worn to match her shoes were probably visible.

Alton slowly put his hands on his hips. The motion spread the vest, leaving him basically naked from the waist up. Maybe he was a physical trainer or something, because his body was unbelievable. Lulu normally went for slender, business-suit-wearing types, but she had a sudden desire to feel all those muscles against her, to know their power, his power, as he touched her.

“Those are your undergarments.”

“Yes. It’s a slip.”

“Slave Cheryl,” he said.

“Yes, Master Alton.” The naked brunette slowly twisted around, her knees thumping on the floor as she turned to face him. Lulu winced when she realized she’d almost forgotten about her.

“Please look at Lulu.”

The woman on the floor looked up, examining her quickly before looking down again.

“Is she wearing undergarments?”

Chains clinked as she shifted before answering. “Yes, Master Alton. She is wearing an old-fashioned slip, which is meant to be worn beneath the clothes.”

Old-fashioned? Well, that was nice. It was vintage-inspired.

“And why do you think, Slave Cheryl, that I have never seen a woman wearing one before?” Alton kept his gaze on Lulu as he spoke to Cheryl.

“Women no longer wear them, Master Alton.”

“And why would Lulu be wearing one, Slave Cheryl?”

Lulu was getting really tired of them talking about her. She propped a hand on her hip and met Alton’s gaze, wondering where he was going with this.

“She’s being defiant, Master Alton.”

Lulu whipped her gaze to Cheryl.
What?

“That is what I think also. Thank you, Slave Cheryl.”

Cheryl bent her body from the waist in a bow, then returned to her upright kneeling position.

“Defiant?” Lulu sputtered. “You think I somehow guessed that you’d make me take my clothes off and wore this?”

“No, I think Master Lane told you I did not allow clothes and you sought to defy my rules.”

“I didn’t tell them I was meeting you. I didn’t tell them you came to the shop.”

Alton’s brows rose in surprise.

“I knew they’d talk me out of it, tell me it was a bad idea. And they might have been right if my slip is going to make you paranoid.” Lulu motioned to herself. “I wear a slip because the art of dressing properly has been lost by women. In a world of five minutes to prepare in the morning, I’ve made rebellion my business and put time, thought and effort into my ensemble every morning.” This was an argument, a call to arms she’d said many times before, and the words were comfortable and powerful as they rolled off her tongue. “Also,
vintage
,” she stressed the word in Cheryl’s direction, “clothes don’t come with built-in slips the way modern clothes do. The skirt is vintage, and so is the slip.”

Cheryl looked up, just a quick glance between Lulu and Alton, before looking down again, but in that moment Lulu had seen that her eyes were wide with shock.

Whoops.

Soapbox-y speeches were probably not common in this little foyer, but they’d started it, and seriously, Alton was far too paranoid if he thought her wearing a slip was some grand scheme for her to get around him seeing her naked five minutes after she walked in the door.

She looked at Alton, then reached for the hem of her slip and pulled it up and over her head. Holding it between two fingers, she pointedly pulled out the box, dropped it in on top of her shoes. Nerves about revealing her body were gone; this was a point of pride now.

He was fucking this up.

Alton felt control of the situation slipping away from him. He’d mishandled Lulu and her response had shifted the power. Now she’d taken off more clothing than he’d told her to, power and defiance etched in the lines of her body, and even Cheryl had raised her head to gauge his reaction to the challenge.

He needed to correct this, immediately.

Later he could berate himself. Jumping on something so small was the mark of an inexperienced Master, which Alton was not. It was also the sign of a nervous Dom. Lulu did make him nervous, and he wasn’t sure why. She was a submissive like any other, a challenge, true, but just a woman to be trained.

“Lulu, thank you for educating me. You are the first woman to enter my home dressed in that way. It is rare that I encounter something I’m ignorant of, but from now on I will make a point of taking note of your style of dress.”

Lulu nodded, her proud defiance deflating little by little as he spoke.

With the slip off, she was left wearing the black-and-white spotted bra and panties, a black garter belt and thigh-highs held to the garters by black straps. The panties and bra had more fabric than he was used to seeing, on those rare occasions he saw women’s underwear. He was reminded of the pictures he’d seen in the book at her shop and the curvy women in their half shirts and little shorts painted on the walls. She had curves to match those images, with wide hips, a narrow waist above her bellybutton and full breasts. Her skin was creamy with only a few freckles he could see on her shoulders and chest.