“Christ,” Landon said, opening the file and scanning its contents. The photo depicted a pretty girl with curly, strawberry blonde hair and round green eyes. “By whom?”
“The guy she usually comes here with. As I understand it, they’re not actually in a romantic relationship. This was more of a ‘friends with benefits’ situation. Still, the asshole could have told her he wasn’t coming instead of simply being a no show.”
“Have we made sure that he’s actually okay? There could have been some emergency…”
Marshall frowned. “Of course we have. He called to cancel yesterday, the morning of her arrival. He’s met someone, he feels it’s getting serious, and he didn’t have the balls to simply tell her. She was already on the bus; it was too late for us to do anything about it.”
Landon felt a pang of sympathy for Nayla. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess old habits die hard.” He’d rescued too many people from wrecked cars not to immediately consider an accident when someone failed to turn up somewhere they’d promised to be. “I didn’t mean to imply you were jumping to conclusions.”
Marshall’s expression softened. “It’s fine.”
“So does she know?” Landon indicated Nayla’s picture.
“Yes. I had her in here yesterday afternoon. She was pretty mad.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“And I’m guessing she asked to be assigned to somebody else?”
Marshall ran a hand through his shoulder-length, pale blond hair. “Actually, no, she didn’t. She stormed out of here and fled back to her room. I got Kaylee to call her to make sure she was okay and she said yes, she was fine, but to leave her alone.”
Landon grinned. “She’s a feisty one, then.”
“Not usually. But, you know, extenuating circumstances…”
“I understand.” There was a pause. “Forgive me, but I’m still wondering why I’m here if she didn’t ask to be assigned to anybody else.”
Marshall leaned back in his chair. “A couple reasons. For one, I want all our guests to have a good time while they’re here. She’s not going to have a good time if she’s moping in her room for the duration of her stay. Sometimes we have to give people a little… nudge… for their own good. As for why I called you, I thought you’d be a good fit.”
Landon glanced at the file. “It says here she’s in the Dungeon program?”
“She is. But all our resident Dungeon Masters are currently otherwise occupied or booked. You, being new, don’t have a full schedule yet.” Marshall narrowed his eyes. “I know you’re officially a Daddy Dom but you are flexible enough to accommodate her wishes for a week, aren’t you?”
Landon bristled. “Of course I am.”
“Good.” Marshall slid a black bracelet across the desk.
“She hasn’t even agreed yet,” Landon muttered, but he removed his blue bracelet and slipped on the black one all the same.
“Don’t worry about that,” Marshall said airily. “We’ll convince her.”
There was a timid knock on the door.
Marshall glanced at the clock. “Excellent. She’s right on time.” He cleared his throat. “Enter!”
The door creaked as it swung inwards, then Nayla walked in. Halfway to the desk, she spotted Landon and stopped in her tracks. “What’s this about?” she said warily.
“Sit.” Marshall indicated the chair beside Landon’s. To Landon’s experienced ear, his boss’s tone was slightly different now that a submissive was in their company. A touch more formal, a little more no-nonsense.
After a moment’s hesitation, Nayla sat. “Am I in trouble?”
Marshall shook his head. “Not at all. I just wanted to introduce you to somebody. This is Landon, one of our newest Masters.”
Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, Landon had refrained from watching her too closely as she’d entered the room, but now, as she turned to meet his eyes, he allowed himself to gaze right back. Her reddish gold hair fell in curly tangles over her shoulders. She had a slightly upturned nose and a wide, generous mouth, and she was wearing what he instantly recognized as one of the Roman slave girl costumes which left very little to the imagination. But her eyes were rimmed with scarlet and her nails were bitten. He found himself wanting nothing more than to scoop her into his lap and give her a cuddle. Instead, he contented himself with a simple, “Hello, Nayla.”
Without replying, she turned back to Marshall and said, “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Sir, but it looks like you’re trying to match me with somebody. And I thought I made it clear yesterday that I’m perfectly happy to spend the next six days here by myself. If I change my mind and decide I do want to socialize and/or play at some point before I go home, I’m fully able to head out and meet people on my own.”
Marshall, much to Landon’s amusement, gave a tiny snort. “First of all, you are being disrespectful, not only to me, but to Master Landon, whose greeting you’ve completely ignored.”
Adorably, Nayla glanced at Landon then looked away quickly, pink spots blooming on her cheeks.
“Second,” Marshall continued, “I was extra lenient with you yesterday because you were, quite understandably, emotional. What Kurt did was an asshole thing to do, and he had no right to treat you like that—but it doesn’t give you the right to be rude. And third, I have been running this place for a long time, and we do things the way we do for a reason. As you’re in the Dungeon program, we require that you either bring a companion with you, or you request that we match you with someone upon arrival. We can’t have—”
“I’ve been coming here for a long time,” Nayla interrupted him furiously, “and Kurt has always met me here. So I have always brought my own companion , as you put it. It’s not my fault that he—”
“Quiet,” Marshall said, and Landon was astounded at the level of ice in his voice. Christ, he found it intimidating, and it wasn’t even directed at him.
Nayla—very sensibly—shut up instantly.
“No,” Marshall went on slowly, the steel still evident in his tone, “it’s not your fault that Kurt was a no-show, but as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, we cannot have single guests wandering around unchecked. People come here to relax and enjoy themselves, they don’t want to constantly have to fend off requests for play, or sex, or even just company. Not to mention some Dominants really don’t like it when they feel others are encroaching on their territory.”
The pink spots on Nayla’s cheeks had spread to cover her entire face. “I would never—”
“I know you would never be disrespectful to others by trying to poach someone else’s play partner,” Marshall finished her sentence for her, “but that’s the point. If you want to go out and play, you need to organize it through me. This is an insanely busy week for us and unless you book in advance, chances are you’ll find that our resident Masters are already promised elsewhere.”
“I don’t want to play with anybody else, anyway,” Nayla muttered, crossing her arms and pursing her lips in the most adorable pout.
“Maybe not now, but you still have six days here. That could well change. Why did you come here if not to play? You said yourself you don’t love Kurt, so I doubt it was just to spend time with him. And there are plenty of other places to vacation if you just want to eat ice-cream and read.”
Nayla said nothing, staring sullenly at a fixed spot ahead of her.
“Nayla.” Marshall’s tone was at once both commanding and gentler than before. When she still didn’t respond, he shot Landon a questioning look.
Landon nodded.
“Nayla,” Marshall said again softly, “you’ve known me for quite a while now. Do you trust me?”
There was a long pause. Then, “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Then I will assign you to Master Landon for the remainder of your stay here. He’s officially employed as a Daddy Dom but don’t worry, he has quite the sadistic streak. Must run in the family.” Marshall shot Landon a wink. Sam’s sadism was legenda
ry. Landon resisted the temptation to roll his eyes.
“Family?” she asked.
“Master Landon is Master Sam’s younger brother.”
There was a brief flash of recognition in her expressive face but then she quickly returned to her former sullen stance. “Oh.”
“Of course, if it turns out that the chemistry simply isn’t there, you can come back and ask to be assigned to somebody else,” Marshall told her, “but believe me, you will be assigned to somebody else. I’m not allowing you to spend the rest of your vacation by yourself. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Now, I think you need a little attitude adjustment before I leave you in Master Landon’s capable hands.”
“Huh?” The color drained from her cheeks as she glanced first at Landon, then Marshall.
“You were unspeakably rude today, and the rule is that no submissive leaves my office unspanked. I made an exception yesterday but I think we should remedy that now. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Landon was impressed by how smoothly Marshall was handling the situation. He was obtaining Nayla’s consent without being obvious about it and, if she accepted, he would be reminding her exactly what she had come to the Castle for.
“Yes, Sir.” The breathy catch in her voice went straight to Landon’s groin and he felt himself stir.
“Then stand up and bend over the desk. Bottom bare, you know the drill.”
Without needing to be told, Landon got up, too, and moved both guest chairs to one side.
“Master Landon, would you be kind enough to hold her wrists for me?”
“Of course.”
Nayla had already bent over the desk and was rucking up her dress. Landon caught the briefest glimpse of tantalizingly plump, bare buttocks before going around the desk and sitting down in Marshall’s chair. Her wrists were surprisingly slender, the black bracelet stark against her milky skin. Her cheek was pressed against the wooden surface; she wasn’t looking at him, but he felt a thrill travel through him as he caressed the flesh just above her wrists with his thumbs. She was trembling.
Marshall was rifling through his cupboard. “I think this will do nicely.” He caught Landon’s eye and winked as he held up the broad, thick leather strap. “Wouldn’t you agree, Master Landon?”
“Most definitely.” Landon felt Nayla jump as Marshall cracked it against his palm, and gripped her wrists more firmly.
The next few days were going to be fun.
Chapter 3
N ayla was on a rollercoaster of emotions as she lay stretched across Master Marshall’s infamous desk, Master Landon gripping her so tightly that she felt completely trapped. A part of her was dying of humiliation that this handsome stranger was about to watch her get punished, but the other part of her was hopelessly excited, and she prayed Master Marshall wouldn’t notice the glistening proof of her arousal between her slightly parted thighs.
Who am I kidding? Of course he’ll notice!
The Master of Masters never missed anything.
She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to brace herself for the first stroke. The telltale sound of leather hitting flesh as Master Marshall had tested the implement had given the game away, and she knew she was about to get a strap of some kind.
She jumped as she felt something touch her, then relaxed as she realized it was Master Marshall running a practiced hand over her butt.
“Master Landon, how many strokes do you think she deserves for being so rude to you?”
Nayla’s face grew hot as she imagined Master Landon’s look of concentration while he thought about it. He really was attractive; long, shaggy black hair, deep-set brown eyes, and a neatly trimmed goatee. Once she’d been made aware that he was Master Sam’s brother, the resemblance had been obvious.
“Three,” Master Landon said.
Christ , she thought. He’d been looking at her file when she’d come in and must know she was no newbie. If he’d picked such a low number, this implement must be worse than—
An excruciatingly loud thwap reached her ears, obliterating her train of thought and sending a blaze of stinging pain scorching across both her ass-cheeks.
Nayla reacted instinctively, letting out a half-gurgle, half-groan of pain as she tried simultaneously to straighten up and stamp her feet. Master Landon’s iron grip prevented the former, and the way she was tugged taut against the desk, the latter.
“I’m waiting, Nayla,” Master Marshall said coolly.
She struggled to compose herself, taking several rapid breaths before replying, “One, thank you, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
The second hit even harder than the first. The strap was wide; it covered her entire butt in a single stroke, and the renewed, heightened sting made goosebumps break out over her arms. Nayla let out a tortured hiss, her toes scrabbling against the rug as she tried to kick away the pain.
“Two, thank you, Sir,” she managed at length.
“One more to go—”
One more, I can do this, just one more, focus on your clit…
“—Before we get to the second part of your punishment,” Master Marshall finished, and Nayla had barely even begun to process that awful tidbit of information before another blaze of fire scorched her hot, stinging skin.
A garbled howl left her throat, the noise felt like it had come right out of her chest, and it was a moment before she realized Master Landon was whispering softly to her, his fingers warm on her wrists.
“Good girl, you’re doing so well…”
Raising her head, she met his dark, intent eyes and a bolt of lust shot straight through her core at the naked desire in his expression.
“Three, thank you, Sir,” she said breathlessly, her heart pounding.
“That was for being rude to Master Landon by not returning his greeting,” Master Marshall said, running a fingertip across one raw buttock and making her gasp. “Now it’s time to teach you that I don’t much care for being questioned, interrupted, or doubted. Lie on the desk, on your back.”
Nayla didn’t miss the flash of surprise in Master Landon’s expression. He obviously had no idea what was coming next, either.
Somehow, that wasn’t a very comforting thought.
Landon released her wrists and she straightened up, slowly, before turning around. Master Marshall really was a sadist, she mused. In order to lie on her back, she would have to sit on the desk first. On her raw, still-stinging ass.
“Up you get,” Master Marshall said. “I haven’t got all day. Master Landon, please stay there.”
Suddenly desperate to get it over with as quickly as possible, Nayla pulled herself up onto the desk and lay back, closing her eyes as soon as she saw Master Landon looming above her. The light from the windows was behind him so she couldn’t see his expression.
She let out a squeak of dismay as someone—presumably Master Marshall—took hold of her ankles and lifted her legs into the air, bending them back until her feet were hovering above her chest. She wasn’t wearing any panties, and in this hopelessly exposed position, Master Marshall could see everything.
Everything .
“Please be so kind and hold her in place for me,” Master Marshall said, and the next moment, Master Landon’s warm fingers closed around her ankles, tugging her legs back even further until she was basically folded in half.
Her face was flaming even as the cool air whispered over her bare pussy, a humiliating reminder of how wet she was.
“I do love the diaper position,” Master Marshall said matter-of-factly, and Nayla let out a groan. “I take it you don’t?” There was a trace of amusement in his voice.
Casting about for something to say and not thinking of anything, she was grateful when he resumed speaking without waiting for a reply.
“I think another three will do. On the backs of your thighs. Make sure she keeps those legs closed, Master Landon.”
The first searing thwap of thick, st
urdy leather against her sensitive flesh made Nayla almost levitate off the desk. She could take a lot of punishment on her ass. On her thighs? Not so much.
There was a long pause, during which she struggled to regain her breath and wondered how she could still be so acutely aware of Landon’s fingers around her ankles even when it felt like Master Marshall had poured gasoline over her skin and set it alight.
“I’m waiting,” Marshall said at length, and she realized with a jolt that she was obviously meant to count these strokes, too.
“One, thank you, Sir,” she whispered, gripping the edge of the desk for dear life so as not to cup her stinging flesh protectively.
“Don’t make me wait so long next time,” he said sternly, and the second stroke landed in exactly the same place as the first, painting a new stripe of scorching pain across the backs of her thighs.
“Ow! Owowowowow,” she shrieked, trying in vain to kick the pain away.
“Wrong answer,” Master Marshall said. “Let’s try that again.”
He aimed the strap a touch lower the next time, sending a new wave of searing agony across her sit-spots. “Two, thank you, Sir!” The words came out in a rush along with her expelled breath, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her mind beginning to race.
It was all his fault. Fucking Kurt, fucking standing her up. If he hadn’t, she’d be in the Dungeon right now, in the right headspace, settling into one of their familiar sessions before going upstairs and getting her brains fucked out. Instead, she was lying—humiliatingly exposed—on Master Marshall’s desk with a complete stranger holding her legs above her head. She wasn’t in the headspace, this wasn’t turning her on, it was fucking hurting now, and she was just so…
Thwap! The final stroke of unforgiving leather whapped against her flesh hardest of all, and it caught her pussy lips as well as her already stinging ass, sending a new bite of pain right through her sex.
Daddies of the Castle Page 2
