by Lila Dubois
Lillian went to the table, perching on a folding chair, and bent, using the built-in retinal scanner to unlock the machine. “Which member?” she asked.
“Christiana,” he said.
Lillian frowned. “Christiana? Perhaps you mean Christine?”
“No, Christiana. Ana.” He emphasized the end.
Lillian looked up. “Mr. Nolen, we don’t have any members with that name.”
The simple black T-shirt dress she was wearing was flattering, but modest, with a polo-style collar. It was an easy style—easy to wear, easy to go unnoticed.
She hadn’t let herself think too much about why she chose such a boring outfit for the munch, when on the third night with James she’d chosen, purchased, and worn an outfit designed to make her stand out, to be noticed.
You have to stop thinking about him.
“Good job, slave.”
She winced a little at the term. “Why do you call me that?”
Dino was standing beside her, so she didn’t see his arm move. He slapped her ass hard enough to make it sting even through her dress and panties. She yelped and jumped away.
“Back where you were!” he roared.
Christiana flinched and stepped back to where she’d been standing a moment ago. Her heart was back to thudding in her chest, but she forced herself to calm down.
She was okay, this was okay.
Maybe if she repeated it enough, she’d start to believe it.
This time she was watching Dino out of the corner of her eye and was able to brace herself as he raised his hand. This blow was harder than the last, and she staggered forward a step before catching herself. That had hurt. She swallowed and stepped back, waiting for the pain to change, to become that sweet heat that was neither pain nor arousal, but a wild combination of both.
It didn’t happen.
Maybe that was because this hadn’t been a proper spanking—she wasn’t lying over his lap. Maybe this was a real punishment, and that made it feel different.
James punished you with the hairbrush, and you liked it.
“Your past masters were probably lenient. What did they call you, their sub? Their pet?” Dino circled her as he spoke. “I expect more, but I’ll give you more. I can give you something no one else can. I can make you feel things that will rock your world.”
Rock her world? Seriously?
Christiana kept her expression neutral, falling back into that strange detached state she’d been drifting in and out of since leaving the munch.
“But there’s a price,” Dino continued. “And that is total and complete obedience. Can you do that?” He grabbed the sides of her head, thumbs on her face. His hands were covering her ears, nearly muffling his next words. “Can you do that, Christina? Can you obey me?”
“I… hope so,” she said honestly. And it was the truth. She hoped she could submit to him the way she had to James. Hoped that she could find what she’d had with James with someone else.
He grunted. “And I hope you’re worthy of being my slave. I’ve been disappointed in the past.” He crossed his arms. “Take off your dress.”
Her heart thumped inside her chest, and the numbing sense of detachment retreated. “Now?”
Dino raised his hand and slapped her cheek. It wasn’t a hard blow like he’d given her ass, but it startled her. “You will address me as Master Dino.”
Christiana ground her teeth. Instead of feeling submissive, she wanted to slap him back. She closed her eyes, fighting down her feelings, but she wasn’t wholly successful. “I won’t call you Master until you are my Master,” she snapped.
Dino blinked then, to her shock, smiled. “Ah, something to look forward to.” He leaned close to her. “I bet I can have you calling me Master before the night is up. Now, take off your dress.”
Christiana’s anger sputtered out and died.
Was she really going to do this? Was she going to undress for this stranger? Leave herself vulnerable?
She’d let James put his hands on her even though they’d been strangers. This wasn’t any different than that second night with James.
She wouldn’t know, would never know, if she could find what she’d had with James with someone else if she didn’t try.
She reached for the hem of her dress, then hesitated. “Safe word. My safe word is ‘engineer’.”
Dino smiled, and it was unexpectedly tender. “I’m not going to do anything that will make you want to use it.”
Christiana ignored her trepidation and reached for the hem of her dress, pulling it up and off.
Chapter 2
“What do you mean?” James demanded.
“I mean none of our female members are named Christiana.”
James shook his head. “She’s new. San Francisco was her first event.”
Lillian’s face took on an ashen hue and she swallowed visibly. “There… there weren’t any new members at the San Francisco gathering.”
James’s blood ran cold. “What?”
Lillian jumped to her feet. “You’re sure there was a woman there named Christiana, and she said it was her first event?”
“Yes. Yes.” James shoved his hands in his pockets as he made fists. “Perhaps you forgot about her.”
“I don’t forget, Mr. Nolen. Perhaps she lied about it being her first event.” Lillian looked like she might be sick.
“I’d never seen her before,” he replied softly. “There were other people who saw her, mentioned her being new.”
“She isn’t… isn’t a member.” Lillian whispered something in a language James didn’t know. “The security there was difficult, the location…she must have snuck in.”
“No, no, it’s not possible.” James shook his head. “She came in the chauffeured cars, she was dressed for the theme.”
Lillian’s fingers knotted together at her waist. “The e-mail, she must have hacked our e-mail servers to get details. Who was she? A reporter? A spy. No. no no no.”
“Stop,” James commanded. His mind was racing. “She wasn’t a spy. She didn’t pay attention to anything but…”
“But you?” Lillian’s eyes widened. “Mr. Nolen, I have to urge you to check your accounts; speak with your business manager or attorney. Do you have any enemies?”
“She wasn’t a spy or there to attack me. I’m the one who approached her.” He thought back, going over every moment of their interaction. So many little things made sense now—the way she’d hesitated when talking about herself, her seeming ignorance of the rules…
And why she’d acted like it was a final goodbye when he’d left her. Because it had been.
“She didn’t hack the e-mail,” he said. “If she had, she would have had information about tonight. She would be here.”
Lillian turned back to her laptop. “You have my deepest apologies. I’ll begin the erasure protocol. We’ll… we’ll shut down the society.”
“No, not yet.” James could barely think. There were too many thoughts whipping through his mind. “I’m going to San Francisco. I’m going to find her.”
“You’re welcome to do that, Mr. Nolen, though I’d like to remind you that you are subject to prosecution if you break any of the laws of the United States while you are there.”
“I’m not going to hurt her. I’m going to find her.”
Lillian blinked. “I’m sorry?”
His feelings were a tangled mess, but the one he was focused on was fear, not for his business, his privacy, or even the Orchid Club, but for her.
“I don’t think she was a spy, or corporate espionage agent,” he told Lillian. “I’m not sure how she got there, but I don’t think she means us any harm.”
Lillian shook her head. “The risk to our members is too great. We have to end the society.”
“Don’t be hasty. If she was a reporter, wouldn’t the story be out by now? It’s been a month.”
“She might be gathering information.” Lillian looked at him carefully. “Mr. Nolen, if I may
… I know you love her, but she is probably very dangerous.” She swallowed again. “I will have to inform the owner, and he will take steps to make sure she cannot use her knowledge to hurt any of our members.”
James shot the woman a dark look. “Don’t touch her.”
“I, personally, will not.”
Damn it all to hell, now he was even more worried than he had been before, because now he was going to have to race whatever fixer Lillian called and make sure he found Christiana first.
“I’m going after her,” James said. “She’s not what you think.”
“Then who is she?”
“I’m going to find out.”
Lillian looked around, at the stacked boxes and wardrobe rack. “Given that a month has passed, I can give you twelve hours, Mr. Nolen, as long as you promise to tell me what you find. Who you find.”
“Twenty-four,” he countered.
She nodded once. “Good luck, Mr. Nolen.”
James turned on his heel and walked out of the small staging room. By the time he reached the front doors of the chateau, he was running. He jumped into one of the waiting cars and yanked his phone from his pocket, calling his London-based personal assistant. “I need a jet.”
Despite the hour, Mohammed’s voice was crisp. “Where to, Sir?”
“San Francisco.”
Wearing a full-coverage black T-shirt bra and bikini panties—which covered more than her two-piece swimsuit—Christiana felt more exposed and vulnerable now than she ever had when she’d been naked with James.
Maybe that wasn’t precisely true. James had done things to her that made her feel incredibly vulnerable, but with him that vulnerability had been part of the arousal.
She didn’t feel that now.
“Next time, you won’t wear panties,” Dino ordered.
Christiana’s shoulders straightened. “We haven’t negotiated our scene yet. There won’t be a next time, or a ‘this’ time, without that.”
Dino snorted. “Trying to top from the bottom? I thought you were better than that.”
“Trying to protect myself. If you can’t see that, then I need to leave.”
“Don’t threaten me, slave.”
As hard as his words were, she strangely wasn’t scared. Perhaps she should have been, but what she felt more than anything was anger. He was going too fast, pushing too hard. James hadn’t done that. She and James had spent a whole night just talking.
“I’m not threatening you, but I think this was a mistake.” Christiana shook out her dress and started to pull it on.
“Wait.” Dino took two deliberate steps back. “If you’re not into it, I completely respect that. I like to play…” He shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “I like it on the more extreme side, and I thought you did, too.”
He was back to seeming so normal, so approachable, that Christiana hesitated again. How much of what she was feeling right now was a knee-jerk reaction to him not being James? Maybe if she gave him a chance, this would work out.
“I’m not even really sure what I like,” she said softly. “I’ve only been with one Dom.”
Dino pursed his lips. “Ah, I think I understand. Okay, let’s go over some rules.”
“Just for tonight, please.”
“I can do that.” Dino took another step back. “What would you be comfortable with?”
That surprised her. “You’re letting me decide?”
He got that Master-and-commander look again. “Not decide, sla—Christina, just tell me what you’re comfortable with.”
Christiana looked around the room, then back to Dino. “I won’t take off any more clothes.”
He nodded.
“No touching,” she said next.
Dino raised both eyebrows. “I’m afraid that won’t work for me.”
“I mean no, um, sexual touching, not tonight.” She knew from her research and reading that BDSM scenes could be nonsexual.
“You’ll have to make it up to me, but I agree.”
“And no bondage. I don’t want to be really tied down.” She forced herself to laugh a little. “I don’t want to be made into a skin suit.”
Rather than laughing with her, or teasing her, Dino nodded seriously. “Again, that’s not normally something I’d allow, but it’s an understandable precaution. Anything else?”
There were a million other things she could say, but if she was going to go through with this, they needed to start soon, before her courage failed her. She shook her head.
“Ready to begin?”
“Yes…” she almost said Sir, but that felt wrong. That’s what she’d called James. She certainly wasn’t going to use “Master”, but she had to use something. “Yes, Master Dino.”
“Well done, sla—Christina.”
He stepped forward, into her personal space. He wasn’t much taller than her, but he was big. He could easily hurt her, if he wanted to.
She reminded herself that the munch organizer said she vetted people before they were allowed to come, so Dino wasn’t a serial killer.
That doesn’t mean he can’t hurt you.
He circled around her, looking her over from head to toe. “Have you ever had a slapper used on you?”
Christiana shook her head again, her mouth too dry to speak.
Dino smiled and walked over to the wall of implements. “I’m assuming you like impact play.”
It wasn’t a question, and he wasn’t even looking at her, so she didn’t bother to respond.
“This is new. You’ll be the first slave I’ve used it on. It’s a three-layered slapper.” He selected an item from the wall display and brought it over, showing it off to her. In that moment he reminded her of a friend from work who would gush over a new piece of surveying equipment or software, lovingly explaining its features.
“Eighteen inches, with three graduated pieces of premium black leather.” He raised it and slapped it against his leg. It made a loud crack, and she jumped. The thing looked surprisingly simple—a short wooden handle, then the three stiff, flat, layered pieces of leather, all the same width, but in graduated lengths lying on top of each other.
Dino grinned. “Nice, right? It produces different sensations depending on which side you use. One impact point.” He held it up so the single longest piece was facing her. “Or three.” He flipped it around in his hand so she could see all three pieces.
“It’s very nice. A bit scary,” she admitted in a raspy voice.
“Aren’t all the best things scary?”
You weren’t scared with James. Not like this.
Christiana forced herself to nod.
Dino’s face hardened. “Enough talking. I want you to go over to the St. Andrew’s Cross.”
Christiana hesitated. Was she really going to let a virtual stranger do something so blatantly dangerous to her?
She had before, with James. Why was this any different?
It is. It is so different. That little voice inside her head wouldn’t shut up, but she ignored it and walked over to the large X of wood. There were thick-link chains dangling from the top of the X, and eyebolts sunk into the wood near the bottom. She faced the X, staring at it for a moment, then stepped up to it, until she was close enough that her bare stomach brushed the center of the X.
“Reach up and hold the chains. If you let go, I’ll add swats. I’m agreeing not to bind you, but you have to hold on.”
Christiana reached up and out to the sides, grabbing the dangling chains. The links were heavy and cold in her hands.
“Spread your legs,” he demanded.
She stepped out to the sides, and started to tremble.
Please be like it was with James, please, please.
She heard the air move as Dino pulled back his arm. The first slap hit her right upper thigh.
Christiana sucked in air and then let it out on a scream. That hurt.
The second landed on her other leg, and she hadn’t yet recovered her breath enough from the first
one enough to cry out again.
Why did this hurt so much?
Because he’s hitting you, stupid.
Another blow, and this time she couldn’t keep still. She yelped and danced away, though she didn’t let go of the chains, merely twisting her lower body. He took advantage of that, landing a blow to the side of her thigh, just below the edge of her panties.
Christiana yelped, then twisted her hips and glanced down to see a perfect red imprint of the curved end of the longest piece.
“How does it feel?” he asked
“I-it hur-rts,” she stammered.
Dino grunted. “Good.”
The slapper landed again, this time on her panty-covered ass. It felt like she’d been hit by a fastball. Christiana screamed, pressing her face into her arm.
Use your safe word! the rational voice inside her screamed. This is hurting you!
Stay, another part of her urged. You deserve this.
That thought shocked her so much that she didn’t scream when he once again stuck her ass. He must have taken that as some sort of sign, because he picked up the pace.
You deserve this, for what you did to James.
Was that why she was here? Had she put herself in this position because of the guilt she felt over how she’d left James?
Dino continued to whale on her ass with the slapper, but that strange feeling of detachment had returned and muted the pain. She hung her head forward between her spread arms and let herself sink into her own thoughts.
She’d lain awake in bed the past two nights wondering what James had felt, had said, when he realized she wasn’t going to show up. She’d imagined him sad and feeling rejected. That was the one that made her feel the worst. He was so wonderful, she hated that she might have made him feel like he was anything less than that. Maybe he shrugged and picked another woman. When she wanted to torture herself, she pictured him casually moving on, finding another woman—someone who really was who she said she was, someone who was a member of the club and his equal. And then she imagined him angry, his intense eyes glittering with rage. That always made her shiver. Sometimes she followed that up with a fantasy about him punishing her, perhaps doing something much like Dino was doing now. Except in her fantasy the pain was tempered by arousal.
