Stealing Serenity

by Reese Gabriel

  Oh god, had he caught her looking?

  “Come on,” he said, still smiling. “Time’s wasting.”

  * * * * *

  The car ride was much shorter this time.

  After a few turns on the busy downtown streets they drove into the old warehouse district, lately converted into clubs and condos.

  Serenity watched the young women walking and giggling on the street, the young men with them hoping to score points and hopefully bed the beauties later on.

  Were any of them into dominance and submission? Did any of these club girls live for handcuffs and spankings at the hand of eager young Masters?

  Here and there the wary eye of a police officer surveyed the Thursday night crowd.

  Traffic was at a virtual standstill, giving Serenity plenty of chance to wonder which destination he might be taking her to.

  Ross didn’t seem like the dance-club type.

  To her surprise he made a sharp turn down an alley, very dark and narrow.

  At the other end was a street, practically empty except for a few parked cars, expensive from the looks of them.

  Ross pulled up to the curb alongside a building that ran the entire block.

  She might have taken it for some sort of offbeat club but there was no line out front and no visible signs of security. The windows were bricked over and there was only one door, black and nondescript, only a slit for an opening.

  It looked like some kind of 1920s speakeasy.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Serenity said.

  “Trust me,” Ross replied.

  Yeah, right, because he’s given me so much reason to so far.

  The engine softened to a purr as he shifted into park. Leaving the keys in the ignition, Ross climbed out and promptly walked around to her side.

  Serenity tried not to notice the stride, the way the jeans hugged his powerful thighs and emphasized his backside. Face it, he’d look good in anything.

  Ross Lassiter was damn gorgeous and he knew it. But he wasn’t vain, that was the killer thing. In fact he didn’t seem to care at all when it came right down to it.

  He was the sort of man who knew what he wanted in life and went for it, damn the consequences. But what did he want out of her?

  Surely there were plenty of PYTs to pursue, mindless little twits anxious to play his games.

  “It’s better on the inside,” he assured as he helped her from the car.

  “Aren’t you worried about someone stealing your little toy here?” she asked.

  He laughed. “Not around here.”

  The mysterious door opened before they reached it.

  A man in a black muscle shirt and leather vest was waiting on the other side, holding it open as if he’d been there all night just for this occasion.

  “Mr. Lassiter,” he announced in a deep but polished voice.

  “Rudolph.”

  “Your usual table, sir?”

  “If you please.”

  Serenity glanced nervously at Ross before entering the darkened space.

  “It’s all right, darling.”

  She hated herself for leaning against him, almost as much as she hated herself for being here at all.

  What is it they say about curiosity and the cat?

  “This is Serenity.”

  Rudolph nodded but made no effort to engage her. “We can have your car washed if you like, Mr. Lassiter.”

  Ross chuckled. “Punishment detail?”

  “One of Mr. Carruthers’ girls. Quite a sight if you’d like to watch?”

  “Perhaps later.”

  “As you wish.”

  Rudolph reminded her of a butler on steroids. Bald head, leather pants and boots to match the vest. It would be comical if not for the dim surroundings.

  And the way he was ignoring her. Not rude or demeaning just…nothing. As if she wasn’t actually a person.

  A thought crossed her mind. She pushed it back quick as it came.

  “If you would be so kind,” Rudolph said, formally inviting Ross to follow him.

  They walked down a narrow corridor, a single light in the ceiling, a yellow bulb in a cage, its light bathing the walls and floor, giving off an eerie glow.

  At the end of the corridor was another door. Windowless steel.

  “This would be a really bad time to tell me you’re some kind of serial killer,” Serenity quipped.

  Ross laughed, his hand at her back. “Trust me. It gets a whole lot better.”

  Better than punishment details and creepy dudes with Halloween getups? Hard to imagine, she thought.

  Rudolph pushed a large square button on the wall, which caused the door to slide as opposed to opening outward.

  Okay, now it felt like going into a James Bond villain’s lair. To her surprise, nothing popped out, no dragons, not even a jack-in-the-box.

  “Have a good time, Mr. Lassiter,” Rudolph said, clearly expecting them to go on without him.

  Serenity took Ross’ hand.

  He gripped her fingers easily as if he’d been doing it a lifetime.

  For the moment she was willing to forget that she had no interest in the man, no desire to send him signals. There would be plenty of time to cut him down to size later.

  When, or if, she got out of this alive.

  The world behind the silver door was utterly opposite the darkened corridor.

  Light shone everywhere, pure and white. White walls, white floor and a white ceiling decorated with the most marvelous cut-glass chandeliers, almost like diamonds dripping and showering over the massive space.

  It might have been a banquet hall if not for the luxurious tables set for twos and threes and fours. Everything on the tables was gold, from the silverware to the fine-stemmed goblets.

  About half the tables were occupied and here was where it got interesting.

  Directly in front of them was a young couple looking as if they had just come from a prom. She pegged their ages as early twenties, the girl with her hair upswept and the young man with his long locks tied back in a ponytail.

  They were dining on what looked to be steak, the young man just now sipping from his goblet.

  It was the young woman who caught her attention, however. She was sitting so demurely and about her neck she wore a diamond choker.

  Never once did she look up. Not even when the waiter came by to check on them.

  It was the young man who did the talking, the requesting.

  She had gloves on, long white ones like they used to wear back in the sixties.

  At another table an older man with thinning gray hair sat with two women. He had a plateful of food and every now and again he would cut something off and put it to the mouth of one or the other of his companions who would dutifully chew the morsel.

  They themselves, Serenity noted, had no plates of their own. Just the goblets, which apparently they needed permission to drink from.

  The women were dressed identically in black skirts and white blouses, the buttons done all the way to the top. Each wore a string of pearls that had the effect of a uniform despite the apparent elegance.

  Glancing down, Serenity saw the two women were shoeless.

  Crazy.

  The other occupied tables told similar stories, men seemingly in control, the women, young and beautiful, but very much pliant.

  Serenity felt a leap of panic. Did the others think she was one of them? Is that what Rudolph thought? What trick was this bringing her here?

  Now it was all clear, the business about the punishment detail and not bothering to include her in any conversation out front.

  This was a place for women submissives. Slaves even!

  “Ross, if you think I’m staying for this…”

  He steadied her elbow. “Relax, there’s no strings attached, literally or figuratively. I just thought you might like to see how the other half lives.”

  It was then she saw the stage. Empty for the moment.

  But she had a bad feeling it would
not remain this way. Heaven only knew what entertainment looked like in a place like this.

  “If this is half, god help the world.”

  Ross laughed. “Okay, maybe we are more like ten percent, but we exist. We’re all around you.”

  A cord was lowering from the ceiling directly above the stage.

  It was red silk, most likely.

  A tassel hung from the end.

  “Keep your eyes peeled,” Ross advised.

  “I need a drink,” she said.

  Ross signaled for service but instead of the waiter it was a young woman who responded. She was wearing a black garment, like a one-piece bathing suit, glossy like leather with laces up the front to connect the widely spaced panels.

  The material was high on her hips and hugged her shapely bottom. Combined with the depths of the cleavage, the outfit left little doubt as to her overall dimensions. She was small, slender and obviously pleasing to the male eye. Tall heels graced her feet with straps around the ankles.

  Serenity noted the tiny locks on each, symbolizing her embondment no doubt.

  Around her neck she wore a bright collar.

  “Sir?” she asked, arching her back as she presented herself.

  Shameless.

  “We would like some wine, Melody.”

  “Anything special, Sir?”

  “Surprise us.”

  She bowed and scampered off.

  “I assume she is part of the decorations,” said Serenity dryly.

  “Melody is one of our volunteer submissives. She enjoys living the lifestyle 24/7.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “She lives right here at the club. It’s called The Cell by the way.”

  “Nice name.”

  “Melody has a comfortable place to be, though at times she prefers tighter confinement.”

  “I know I’ll regret asking, but tighter how?”

  “She enjoys being caged.”

  “I knew I’d regret it. You think I would learn with you.”

  Serenity tried to picture the blonde snuggled up in a gleaming silver structure, her knees and thighs pressed to the bars.

  Cozy. Secure.

  As she waited on the will of the men who’d put her there. Knowing they would take her out when they wanted her. And not before.

  How delicious to be an object, thought the forbidden part of her mind, the dark recesses that never came out to play in her real life.

  Melody was back with a bottle of red wine. She presented it, her eyes lowered.

  Ross nodded and she proceeded to pour a small amount into the golden goblet in front of him.

  He tasted it and gave his approval. “Good choice. You may pour it for both of us now.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” she answered Ross as if her entire life depended on this one action.

  She’d called him Sir. Did she mean it as a server to a customer, Serenity wondered, or a slave to a Master?

  As she moved around the table from Ross’ glass to Serenity’s she kept her eyes lowered. Not until the very end did she raise them. Standing at attention, she awaited Ross’ will.

  Her eyes were dusky. The way she licked her lips made it clear the sorts of things she would like to do for him.

  Had she done them before? It certainly looked that way.

  “Master…” she said now, her voice tiny and soft.

  “That will be all, Melody,” he said, kindly enough.

  She turned and walked away sadly, a little less spring in her step as she crossed the room this time.

  “You know her?” Serenity played dumb.

  “She’s submitted to me.”

  Serenity didn’t probe for details. For all she knew Ross Lassiter had a hundred such lovers.

  Who knew this many women—even the dozen or so in this club—would enjoy taking the subservient role, down to chains and kneeling at a man’s feet.

  A woman was being led out to the center of the stage now. She had long brown hair and a white shift, nearly transparent. The garment hung to her ankles. She was blindfolded and her lips were very ripe looking, almost swollen as if she’d just been kissed.

  Serenity could easily make out the erect nipples under the shift. The woman was probably wet too from the look of her. On each wrist she had a leather cuff and another around her neck.

  The man leading her looked like Rudolph. He had the leather vest on and the boots but he was naked otherwise. His cock was enormous and hard.

  He’d shaved his head, but unlike Rudolph, he had a goatee. He was more slender too. His manner was imperious, not cruel, but clearly in charge of the female. Like a demented, dirty shepherd.

  And she was so trusting. And horny.

  He was leading her by a leash attached to her collar. The slight tension was enough to pull her forward. She stumbled only slightly, managing to keep her grace and dignity intact.

  The man stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder. He did so with absolute ownership, casual like one might handle a prize horse.

  She awaited, head held high.

  He had a small whip in his free hand.

  Serenity’s belly tightened. She wanted to melt right there on the spot. She wanted to run. She wanted to bury her head in Ross’ strong, formidable chest too, if only she knew which made more sense.

  The bald man took the whip and placed it against his prisoner’s lips. She commenced instantly to kissing it and a second later to licking it as well.

  Ross cast a glance in Serenity’s direction but said nothing.

  Was this some kind of test? How would she know if she was passing, assuming she even wanted to?

  Inclining her chin, the girl on the stage allowed the man to rub the crop all across her face, the now-glistening tip of it over her cheeks, across the hollow of her neck, even her nose.

  “Her name is Alice,” Ross said.

  Serenity winced. Knowing the girl’s name, feeling her humanity that much more was exactly what she didn’t need to have happen right now.

  “She’s in training.”

  Training. So that’s what they called it.

  As the whip trailed lower now Serenity felt the squeamishness in her belly turn to raw heat. Her own nipples were peaking just like Alice’s, the tiny pink nubs pressing against the silk of her bra.

  Dimly she wondered if Ross would still make an issue of it. The lack of black. Surely it had been a greater offense not to even be there for the date.

  Serenity prayed Ross’ senses were not sufficiently developed to detect the scent of her pussy. She could only imagine what it was like for the girl on the stage. Poor Alice.

  Poor delighted Alice…who was smiling as the man took his hand, gloved in leather, and rested it on her thigh. At a word from him she moved her hands behind her back as though secured that way.

  Now his hand was free to explore, fingers grazing across her belly, the tip of his thumb pressed into her sweet spot.

  She opened her mouth, moaning.

  He slapped her pussy lightly, barely enough to register.

  She wanted more.

  He took hold of her breast and squeezed.

  Yes.

  Serenity saw Alice mouthing the word with her lips, those outrageous, blood-red lips. She tried to imagine what the girl was feeling. Was it painful or pleasurable? Or maybe both?

  Did she know just how many people were watching her right now? Could she hear the sounds of the people dining, the slaves and Masters, breathing, chewing? Could she sense their eyes, lust-filled? Did it turn her on that much more?

  Alice arched her back slightly as the man zeroed in on her nipple, manipulating it between his thumb and forefinger.

  What did that feel like? To be so blatantly sexually stimulated? And yet Serenity had the distinct feeling this was only the beginning. Or was it rather that she hoped it was only the beginning?

  The man gave an order now and Alice put her hands in front of her. There was a metal clip on each of the cuffs on her wrists that he used now
to attach them together.

  “She’s a graduate student in psychology,” Ross explained. “One day she’ll make a fine counselor.”

  Serenity tried to imagine the helpless, near-naked female in any kind of position of power over another. It defied explanation.

  “Like I told you,” said Ross. “Being a submissive is not about being weak or dumb. It takes brains and courage.”

  Alice was lifting her arms overhead. Clearly the trainee submissive knew what was next.

  Serenity sucked her lower lip between her teeth.

  The man was going to secure her wrist cuffs to the rope dangling from the ceiling.

  He was going to suspend Alice, rendering her even more helpless.

  By the time he finished she was on her tiptoes, pretty bare toes painted pink. And to think she was a student by day, maybe even a teaching assistant.

  “How did you find her?” Serenity wanted to know.

  “She answered an online classified for a research subject.”

  Some research.

  “So she just walked in and…”

  “She took tests. The club made it clear to her up front what was going on. She claimed it was only curiosity but as you can see the young lady is a natural.”

  Serenity gasped now as the man suddenly reached for Alice’s chemise and tore the material straight down, splitting the garment in half.

  Ross grinned. His eyes were focused on the table.

  Red cheeked, Serenity realized her faux pas. In the heat of the moment she had grasped Ross’ hand.

  She snatched it back. Great. Way to send mixed signals. Serenity took a swallow of the wine, slightly bitter but refreshing. With any luck she’d be plastered in no time.

  Oh god, now he was using his tongue. His lips on her bare chest, her exposed breast, her puffy nipples making Alice arch her back and thrash her head.

  Now he stopped and moved around behind her. Having gotten her worked up, it was time for the whip. Very lightly at first, he traced across her back, between her shoulder blades and down her spine to the swell of her ass.

  He didn’t touch her buttocks. Not yet.

  First he kissed her shoulders, making her shiver. The sheer intimacy almost made Serenity want to cry. Did they know each other that well…or did BDSM serve to bring people together this way?

  Instinctively she moved away from Ross, just an inch or so in her seat, nothing obvious.