An Undercover Submissive [Safeword LLC 5] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Peyton Elizabeth

  “It wasn’t like that,” Trish said, trying to get them to understand. Lashe was now stroking her thigh with his thumb, and she tried not to get distracted. She finally found the words needed to describe what she was feeling. “I don’t feel safe within a scene without the two of you by my side. Maybe we can add that to my hard list?”

  “Absolutely,” Lashe said, giving her flesh a comforting squeeze. “There’s a reason why honesty is so valuable within the Lifestyle and this is one of those times. We have a very deep desire to take care of you and make sure that you’re happy. If you don’t achieve an inner peace from within a scene, then we aren’t doing our jobs correctly. We will never make you partake in a scene without one of us being present.”

  Trish smiled, relief sinking deep inside her soul. That one little emotion was pushing its way back to the forefront though, and she tried to close the door on it. Admitting what she’d already had this morning was enough. Maybe they wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the morning playing since their calendars were cleared.

  “Is there a way for me to make it up to you?” Trish asked, giving them a smile. It fell immediately when she caught the look that Sander and Lashe shared. “Oh.”

  “Oh is right,” Sander replied, taking the cup out of her hand. He set both of them on the nightstand while Lashe did the same with his on the other side of the bed. “Now that we have things cleared up, and even though we understand why it happened, your misbehavior still warrants a punishment.”

  Trish’s ass immediately started to tingle in remembrance of her first punishment. She could barely sit the following day, as the tenderness had lasted quite a while. Why then, did she feel acceptance over what was about to happen? It was almost as if her penance would wipe the slate clean and they could just start over.

  “Tomorrow evening, starting at eight at night, you’ll be wearing nothing but our collar. You may wear a trench coat to the club, but once we enter, it comes off. Seeing as you’ve never really experienced the club scene the way a true submissive should, your punishment will be parading around without a stitch of clothing.”

  The minute Sander said club, Trish knew her smile had come back and was even bigger than the first. They had somehow, someway, gotten her membership reinstated at the club. Was that what their meeting had been about? She was so eager to experience the club as their submissive that she almost missed the last part.

  “Wait,” Trish said, sitting up a little straighter. “Naked? As in with nothing on?”

  “Don’t worry,” Lashe said, leaning back on his pillow with a smile. “You’ll be wearing a collar. That counts. Now, let’s enjoy the rest of our morning…”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sander walked out of his dressing room, enjoying the feel of leather against his skin. It had been months since he’d worn his club attire, and tonight, he needed to be on his game. Trish was going to experience her first real scene at a club in front of their friends and acquaintances. He and Lashe had agreed a light flogging, with her gagged and bound to the St. Andrews cross would be best. It gave her a small taste of what to expect in the future and the gag would remind her of the privacy it took to play within the Lifestyle.

  “Have you seen or heard from Trish?” Lashe asked, walking into the room. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, although he hadn’t forgone his favorite dress shoes. “I would have thought she’d be home already, getting ready for this evening. She seemed eager all day yesterday.”

  “She’s on her way home,” Sander replied, walking over to the chair in which he’d placed his black bag. “She sent a text saying her meeting with Senator Stone ran longer than expected and that she had one more stop to make.”

  “I don’t like that she doesn’t own a car,” Lashe said, leaning up against the full-length dresser. “Maybe we should hire a driver for her.”

  “You know how well that will go over.” Sander laughed, opening his bag and making sure that he had everything for this evening’s scene.

  “She’ll be the death of me at this rate.” Lashe’s voice held exasperation, but Sander knew his brother had come to terms with Trish’s independent side as long as they got to control her sexual nature. “Did Bradford give you a heads-up on what they discussed?”

  “Lashe, we’ve been over this.” Sander zipped his bag and turned his wrist to see what time it was. “Her work is her business, unless it affects us.”

  “I don’t like her messing around the courthouse. Shelton was right about one thing—those people are vipers. If they thought she might expose some wrongdoing, who knows what length those people would go to.”

  “Hi,” Trish said, her voice coming from out in the hall. She seemed a little out of breath and distracted when she entered the room. Sander hid a smile when she saw what he was wearing. That had gotten her attention. Was that a little rouge on her cheeks? “Um, let me change. Wait. Do I, um, get undressed now?”

  Sander looked over at Lashe, who was now smiling. This evening was going to be great. He picked up his bag deliberately and walked over to her.

  “Yes, little minx. Consider this the start of our scene and use the appropriate titles. Once you’re showered, walk out to the living room where Lashe will put on your collar. I’ll have the trench coat ready, but remember, it comes off immediately upon entering the club. You know the rules from your previous undercover work, but just in case, do you have any questions regarding tonight?”

  “No, Master,” Trish answered, her brown eyes wide. She blew at her bangs, but it wasn’t in ire so much as nervousness. Sander let it slide. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes, Master.”

  * * * *

  Trish fiddled with the belt on the trench coat as they walked up the narrow stairway to the Point. Numerous things were running through her mind, although one stood out. She tried to push it out of the way, not wanting to ruin their evening. This was their first club outing, and she wasn’t about to have it spoiled.

  “Are you doing okay?” Lashe asked as he held open the door and placed his hand on her lower back.

  “Nervous, Master,” Trish admitted, crossing the threshold but stopping only a couple steps over. “Do you think the people here will be angry with me?”

  “You betrayed their trust,” Lashe murmured against her ear, pulling her back up against him as he reminded her of her past discretions. Sander was behind them and held the door open for a few people making their way in. Trish didn’t recognize them and was grateful. Maybe her rush to have a club scene was a little hasty. “But they’ll know you’re with us and know that we trust you, so they will extend that courtesy—although somewhat grudgingly, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll try to earn their trust back, Master,” Trish said, looking down to the ground and not wanting either Lashe or Sander to see the concern in her eyes. Sander was now beside them, taking a hold of her hand. If what she’d learned today was true, she had a feeling not even Sander, Lashe, Kennedy, or James could get her back into this club. “Maybe this is too soon and—”

  “Little minx, do you trust us?” Sander asked, raising her hand and kissing the back of her knuckles. His warm lips were inviting.

  “Yes, Master,” Trish answered honestly, although after what she discovered, she was worried they wouldn’t trust her. Maybe she would tell them what she found out after this evening, instead of waiting until tomorrow. “I trust both of you, Masters, very much.”

  “Then let’s go inside. We’ll give you time to get used to the ambience before we start our scene,” Sander said, pulling her away from Lashe and toward the blonde at the hostess stand.

  Trish remembered that her name was Lucy. From the slight glare she was imparting, Trish figured it might take a very long time to earn back the trust of the employees and members. Sander blocked her view of the hostess by turning toward her and taking the belt in his hand. Her heart fluttered and she placed her hands over his. Could she really do this? Did she have the courage to parade around naked?

  “Look at m
e,” Sander murmured, his voice deep and sensual. Trish stared at their hands for a moment, just wanting to stand here a few seconds longer. Her nipples had already hardened and pussy was drenched, but just because her body was responding to what was about to happen didn’t mean her mind had caught up. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head and met his green eyes. “We are with you. You are ours. No one can touch without our permission. Tonight has a dual purpose…your attire, or lack of, is your punishment for the other night, while the rest of the evening is for our enjoyment. Do we continue, or are you going to use your safe word?”

  “Continue, Master,” Trish responded, her nerves calmed by the words we are with you. As long as they were in her line of vision, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. “I’m ready.”

  “That’s our good little minx,” Lashe said, his hands coming around her and wrapping around her wrists. He brought them straight down to her side. “Allow Master Sander to take your coat.”

  Trish lowered her eyes to Sander’s fingers as he worked on her belt. Once he had it unfastened, he let the two ends fall. Running his fingers along the lapel, he parted the trench coat and slipped it down her arms. The cool air immediately washed over her flesh, causing goose bumps to appear everywhere on her body. Find it easier to keep her eyes downcast, Trish felt Lashe connect something to her collar. It was a leash, but it didn’t for a second make her feel humiliated. She actually liked the fact that he held a connection between them. It made her feel less lost. Sander leaned down, and she slipped off her shoes.

  The wooden floor was old and weathered as Trish watched her feet shuffle across it. The entrance to the club had always reminded her of an old pub from the olden days. Trish already knew the floor layout, so she wasn’t surprised when Lashe and Sander led her through the red curtain that lead into the main playroom. It was slightly warmer in here due to the amount of people and the activities. Not wanting to see if anyone was watching them—more particularly her—Trish kept her eyes downcast as she followed Sander and Lashe to one of the sitting areas in the middle of the room.

  “James, now how did I know that you would be here this evening,” Sander said. She could see in her peripheral vision that they were shaking hands. Trish tried not to cringe when the conversation continued. “She’s not wired this time, as you can obviously see.”

  “I’m impressed,” James replied. “That is one way to show the members that she’s not trying to expose them anymore.”

  Lashe gently pressed on her shoulder and Trish knew that he wanted her to kneel on the gold pillow between the two chairs. There were four chairs in a circle, with space between them for four submissives, but Trish knew the predilection was one sub for two men. Her knees sank into the plush material and she settled her buttocks on her heels. The air instantly blew up on the damn skin of her inner thighs, causing her clit to throb.

  “I take it you’ll be staying for a while?”

  “And miss whatever scene you have planned?” James asked, turning to walk away. “Not a chance.”

  Sander and Lashe took their seats. Trish remained silent, knowing that now that they were inside the playroom there were certain rules that must be followed. She wanted everyone to know that she could be a good submissive and set out to make Sander and Lashe proud of her. If only her sister could see her now.

  “Trish, remember that you are to remain silent,” Lashe said, his fingers closing around her ponytail and sliding her hair through his hand. “The Senator is present, and I’m sure that he’ll say something. You let us handle it.”

  “Yes, Master,” Trish whispered, needed him to know that she would listen to them.

  In the back of her mind, the journalist within wanted to stand and confront him with the information that she’d been given today. Knowing that would be the worst thing she could do, Trish focused on the tassels of her pillow. Senator Stone mentioned that he’d heard the rumors as well, but proving that Senator Shelton and his campaign members were thinking of rigging the polling stations was another thing. He’d sidestepped every question she put his way and when she realized that the meeting wasn’t getting anywhere, Trish had asked directly if he knew about the rigging. He would only answer off the record, so she didn’t have a choice but to accept. Now, how to go about proving it?

  “Sander, Lashe, it’s good to see you. It’s been what—two months?”

  Trish stared at the shoes on the body that had taken a seat across from them. She recognized the voice, but couldn’t quite place a face. She was relatively sure that she knew him from when she’d been undercover at the club.

  “If not a little longer, Lucas,” Sander replied. “How’s Claire doing? We’ve taken care of everything on our end.”

  Trish immediately knew who was sitting across from them. Lucas and Damian were best friends and one of the more popular duo Dominants in the club—at least they were when she’d been here. Claire must be the woman who was in a car accident with her Master. That had to be well over four months ago. And what did Sander mean that they’d taken care of things on their end?

  “We appreciate it, too. She’s refusing to see anyone except the nurse and aide that the…that you provided. Damien refused to come tonight, but I heard that the meeting Wednesday evening went well for you. I thought I’d show you my support.”

  Meeting? Trish felt her heartbeat quicken at the pieces of the puzzle fitting in. She would bet anything that Sander and Lashe were part of the Order and that they had a meeting regarding her. Everything made sense now. Had Claire’s late Master been a member as well? Is that why she was being provided additional care? She felt Lashe tug at her ponytail and she bit her lip to keep from asking the questions that were on the tip of her tongue. Talk about a way to ruin the evening.

  “Keep us posted on Claire. Anything else she might need, you just let us know,” Sander said, leaning forward. She saw his hand come toward her and stopped breathing. His knuckles brushed her nipple and she closed her eyes at the rush of emotion that shot through her. Had Lucas seen? What did he think of the fact that she was naked? Her nipple felt like it was burning and Trish felt torn with wanting him to touch her more and being mortified that she was reacting this way in a public forum. “Little minx, would you care for some water?”

  Trish caught herself before looking up. A pair of bare feet came into view a few steps away from Sander’s chair. It had to be one of the submissives acting as a barmaid and wanting to know their drink order.

  “Yes, please, Master.”

  “We’ll have one water and two club sodas, please.” Trish watched as Sander’s hand slowly traveled down her body. Her knees were positioned correctly, so there was nothing to prevent his fingers from sliding through her folds. She flushed when a whimper escaped her. “And extra napkins, Nicole.”

  “Yes, Master Sander,” Nicole replied.

  Trish had a feeling that it wasn’t just her face that was red now. Even though she was embarrassed to be ousted in regards to her body’s reaction to being on display, Trish still felt more liquid leak out of her pussy. Trish remembered who Nicole was now. She was a cute girl in her midtwenties with a fear of suspension. That was one of her hard limits, as she had shared quite a bit with Trish during the slow times at the club. Did Nicole feel betrayed when she found out that Trish had lied to gain access to the club? Or did she see now that Trish was a true submissive and trying to gain back the trust of Sander and Lashe’s friends and acquaintances?

  “I just wanted to touch base,” Lucas said, standing up. “I’ll let you enjoy your evening. I’ll keep in touch regarding Claire’s condition.”

  Trish wished he’d stay and talk more…maybe then she’d learn more about the Order. She wouldn’t have used the information against any of them. It was more to satisfy her personal curiosity. Just how many members did the Order have and what exactly did being a member entail?

  “Trish, you may look around if you wish, as a reward for good behavior,” Lashe said, still stroking her
hair. “You’re doing well for you first club visit. Take notice of the St. Andrew’s cross. You’ll be up there shortly.”

  Afraid that he or Sander would take away her reward, Trish looked up. It never failed to amaze her that the moment she took in the room, her arousal spiked. Play areas were set up around the perimeter of the room and roped off in red rope to ensure safety and privacy of those involved in a scene. Directly in front of her, a woman was on the spanking bench and being paddled. Her ass was facing the audience, and the red indicated her tenderness and how long she must have been there. Trish knew what she was feeling as memories rushed back from her first punishment.

  “Look to your left.”

  Trish looked over Lashe’s legs, seeing the St. Andrew’s cross that she would shortly be bound to. Participating in scenes in the privacy of their bedroom was one thing, but to do one in front of everyone here? Trish had thought she was ready, but now that a horde of elephants had taken space where her stomach used to be, she wasn’t so sure. She could now see that people were blatantly staring at them, questions in their eyes regarding her place here.

  “Picture yourself up on that cross, your gag secured between your teeth while our floggers are raining down on your skin. I’ll have your left side, while Lashe takes your right. There will be no getting away from the stings caused by the ends of the laces that kiss your flesh.”

  Okay, so maybe doing a scene here wouldn’t be that bad. The more Sander described what she would experience, Trish felt herself responding. She wanted to bring her knees together and try to relieve that throbbing that her clit was experiencing but knew that was unacceptable. Just sitting here and anticipating what was about to happen had her feeling close to what she had the other night. The major difference was that they were here with her and she knew they would eventually take care of her.

  “I can see in your face that your impatience is getting the best of you,” Sander said, laughing. “Ah, here’s Nicole with your water. Thank you, Nicole. Please tell your Master that your bejeweled plug was worth every penny.”