by Becca Van
Watching her reaction, Master Turner smiled slightly. “This club”—he waved his hand to encompass the great room—“is a place where people come to escape the stress of their lives. Not everyone is vanilla. There are a lot of people that need more in their sex lives to feel…fulfilled.
“Some of the men and women that come here are very high up on the corporate ladder of their careers, but when they are outside the workplace, they need to let go of that tight control so they can relax. Those people are called submissive or subs. And then there are people like Master Barry and I who like to be in control at all times.”
“Doms,” Charlie supplied.
“Yes. We like the rush of power knowing that we can control the pleasure of a sub, and therefore our own pleasure is heightened. In other words, we get off on controlling another person’s pleasure. But rest assured that we only ever command someone who wants to be controlled, Charlene. Our club policy is always safety first and foremost. The mental well-being of any submissive is our priority, and all parties must agree to what is to take place. In other words, all parties need to consent.”
Charlie thought about that. She understood where he was coming from. But he was still wrong. “I’m not a submissive.”
The smile that crept across Master Turner’s mouth could only be described as devilish. Charlene looked away quickly before her body got any more ideas. Her gaze fell on the contract, which she’d left on the bar. She scooped it up and flipped through the pages.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” she said quickly. “I don’t have to be submissive or dominant to work here, do I?”
“No, though if you do sign, I think you’ll find that many of your coworkers have been drawn to this environment for a reason.” He was still watching her closely, like he could see through her. “You are too.”
She didn’t want to argue about it. She couldn’t think when he was here, and when Master Barry got back, it would only get worse. Her attention still on the paperwork, she asked, “Do you have a pen? I’m interested in the job.”
Master Turner placed his hand over the pages and pressed them down to the bar. “I’m interested in you,” he said deliberately.
“What?” She gasped. I can’t have heard that.
“You are submissive,” Master Turner said. “With your permission, I’d like to prove it.”
Prove it how? Charlie realized that goose bumps had risen over her skin. She didn’t believe his claim, but she couldn’t deny that he had a strange power over her.
When she couldn’t come up with a reply, Master Turner said calmly, “Or are you scared to find out?”
“Scared? What is there to be scared of?” Charlie ignored the tremor in her own voice. She let go of the papers and faced him squarely. “Okay, you have my permission. Show me.”
“Remove your clothes, Charlene,” Master Turner ordered.
“What? Why?” Charlie glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. Suddenly fearful that this was part of the interview, she said, “My body or my clothing or the way I look doesn’t have anything to do with how I do my job. My capabilities have nothing to do with my appearance.”
“Agreed,” Master Turner conceded with a nod of his head. “This has nothing to do with the job. This is about you, Charlene. However, if you do decide to play in my club as a guest, you must be able to abide by my rules. If I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed immediately.”
Emotions warred in her chest. She hated being naked in front of anybody, much less a good-looking stranger. Yet something kept her from walking out the door. Master Turner’s eyes held her gaze. He seemed to have no doubt that she would comply.
“You did say you’d let me show you,” he reminded her. “Take off your clothes.”
“Look, I don’t know what you think you’re—”
“Silence!” Master Turner rose from his stool and walked over to stand behind her. His large, warm hands landed on her shoulders, and a frisson of electricity tingled down her spine. “You aren’t to question me. When a command is given, a submissive obeys.”
“I’m not—”
“Did I give you permission to speak, Charlene?” he asked in that cold, controlling voice.
Geez, am I back in kindergarten? Why do I need permission to voice my opinion? I am not a child nor a submissive, damn it!
Then why are you doing as they tell you? Why aren’t you fighting harder?
Shut up! Charlene snarled at her inner voice.
His hands moved from her shoulders down to the front of her blouse. When his fingers brushed against her skin as he deftly undid the second button on her shirt, she shivered with awareness. She wanted to push those large, masculine hands away, but she kept still as he slipped the plastic buttons through their holes, and when he pulled her tucked-in shirt from the waistband of her slacks, she didn’t ask him to stop. The last button slipped loose, and he placed his palm against the flesh of her belly. His skin was warm, and she could feel calluses as he caressed her. After a moment he removed his hand and stepped back. From the corner of her eye she watched as he sat on his stool once more.
“Your skin is very soft and silky. Why do you hide your body away, Charlene? Are you ashamed of the way you look?”
Shit. How does he know how I feel about my body? He didn’t even know her and he already had her pegged.
“No. Yes. I don’t know.”
“Which is it, sub? Whenever a Master asks you a question, you will answer honestly. Is that understood?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
Charlie eyed him over, confused by his question.
“When you respond to a Master, you will address him as Master or Sir.” His ensuing pause seemed to indicate that he expected Charlie to speak.
“Yes, Master Turner.”
“Good girl. Now answer my question, Charlene.”
“No, I don’t like my body.”
“Stand up and remove your clothes, sub.”
Charlie couldn’t believe she was doing it, but found herself obeying once again. She rose to her feet and stepped away from the bar. When her back connected with a large, solid object, she turned her head to look over her shoulder. Master Barry was standing behind her, and he placed a hand on her waist to steady her. He gave her a wink and moved to the side, where he stood watching her.
Her face felt like it was on fire, but Charlie was determined to follow Master Turner’s command. She’d prove she wasn’t the kind of woman who was easily intimidated, whatever else he might seem to believe. She tilted her chin, clenched her teeth, and pulled her shirt from her shoulders and off her arms. The cool air touched her skin, causing her to shiver and her nipples to harden even more. She looked down at her chest and cursed the white lace covering her breasts. When she had been dressing that morning she had debated on donning her black lace and bra panty set, but since the shirt she had chosen was white, she had decided on the same color for her underthings so her bra wouldn’t show through the material. Now she wished she had chosen another color, because her nipples and areolas were visible through her bra. She hated having any part of her body on display because she didn’t want to be ridiculed about her body shape, but she wasn’t about to let this man know how much she hated how she looked. Maintaining control over what she wore was an intrinsic need she had developed since she was a young girl. Words could be so hurtful as she had learned from those popular girls at school, and she wasn’t about to give anyone a reason to make disparaging comments about her person anymore. She was an adult, damn it, and she was the one to control whether anyone but herself got to see her body.
“The trousers, too.”
Master Turner’s voice drew her back to her task. She undid her slacks, lowered the zipper, and pushed them from her hips. The two men watching her inhaled audibly, almost gasping when her panties were revealed. The lacy panties were feminine and sexy and practically see-through. There wasn’t much to them since they were a thong. She only hoped tha
t Master Turner didn’t ask her to turn around again. The last thing she wanted was for him and Master Barry to see the cellulite and dimples that graced her backside and legs.
“Remove your shoes and slacks, sub, and then come here.”
Thank God I wore my slip-on sandals. At least I won’t have to bend over and give them a sneak peek of my ass. But then Charlie realized that she was going to have to bend over after all. She needed to pick her slacks up off the floor. Otherwise they would end up wrinkled. Charlie did a quick bend and scooped her pants up with more speed than grace and straightened so fast she stumbled. After regaining her balance, she folded them carefully, giving the task more concentration than was necessary and keeping her eyes away from the two men watching her.
“What have you brought for Charlene to wear, Master Barry?” Master Turner asked.
Master Barry was such a big brute of a man, with muscles upon muscles, and he was really tall, too. His presence was just as commanding as Master Turner’s and he was big all over. Why do they both have to be Masters with that aura of self-confidence? He was nearly as bad as Master Turner, not quite as domineering as the club owner, just a hell of a lot bigger.
Charlie clutched her pants to her chest and finally lifted her gaze. Both the Masters were perusing her nearly naked body. When Master Barry looked into her eyes, she felt as if she was drowning in those blue pools of his. She was aware that he had returned with a bundle of fabric that he now placed on the bar, but she couldn’t look away from his face. Master Barry came so close to her she could feel the heat emanating from his body.
“Give me your pants, sub.”
He held his hand out and waited. Charlie hesitantly gave him her slacks. She was hesitant because once he had them she wouldn’t be able to use them to shield her body from view anymore and she wouldn’t be able to put them back on whenever she wanted. Charlie followed him with her eyes as he placed her trousers on the top of the bar and then came back to her, once again.
“Take off your underwear, Charlene,” Master Turner demanded, and Master Barry held out his hand, waiting for her to comply.
Charlie gulped and mentally cursed that the action had been audible. The two men would know how nervous they made her. Reaching up with trembling hands, she unhooked her bra and continued shrugging until the straps on her shoulders fell down her arms. Cupping her hands over her lace-covered breasts, moving her arms and shoulders again until the straps were drooping just below her elbows, she drew another deep breath, gathering her courage to meet Master Barry’s eyes. Finally she removed her hands and let the bra fall. She caught one of the straps in her fingers and then passed it over to him.
“You are a good little sub, Charlene. Now lose the panties,” Master Turner commanded.
Charlie had never felt so vulnerable in her life, nor had vulnerability ever come with so much arousal. She didn’t understand why she was turned on by Master Turner and Master Barry giving her orders. Charlie was used to being dependent on only herself and she was a strong, opinionated woman. So why did these two men giving her orders and taking her choices away from her stir her dormant desires? But asking her to remove her panties was just too much for her.
She crossed her arms over her breasts, turned her head, and stared into Master Turner’s green eyes. “No.”
Master Turner stared at her long and hard, but this time Charlie vowed not to back down. She was going to redress and leave. Surely something else would come her way. Charlie didn’t care what she did to earn money. As long as she could pay her bills and put food in her stomach she was happy, but she had morals too, and she wasn’t about to circumvent her standards just for employment.
She turned back to Master Barry and snatched her bra from his hand. With quick efficiency she put her bra on and then skirted around him to the bar. She snatched her trousers from Master Barry’s hand and pulled them on and then her shirt. As she buttoned up her blouse she walked back to her sandals and slipped her feet into them. She had expected Master Turner to kick up a fuss when she denied his last request, but he sat on the stool watching her stoically.
Charlie placed the last button into the hole and tucked her shirt into her pants and then walked toward Master Turner.
“I had heard that you were a good boss to work for, but I guess the rumors aren’t true.”
“Don’t you think so?” Again Master Turner tilted his head slightly when he asked that question. He was studying her intently, as if he could see into her soul.
“I show up for an interview and you make me strip!”
“I told you that had nothing to do with the job.” His attention strayed to the papers on the bar. “In fact…” He fell silent.
“In fact what?”
“About your attire,” he said. Charlie realized he was changing the subject, but he pressed on before she could ask him what he’d been about to say. “All of my staff are expected to dress for the club. What you have on is fine for an office but not here.” He indicated the pile of clothing Master Barry had brought. “You would be expected to wear a bustier or corset and a skirt which stops at mid-thigh.”
“Isn’t that sexist? Don’t you know that you could be courting a lawsuit?”
“You read the club’s rules. Anyone who enters the club must read and sign the forms. If you agree to stay and work here you will have to agree to sign the papers, too. As you are aware, this is not a normal place to work in. If,” he added, “you still want to work here.”
Now that Charlie had had a moment for it all to sink in, she didn’t feel as annoyed with Master Turner ordering her to undress, nor did the crazy dress code bother her as much. The fact that her bosses would be so, well, bossy was more difficult to unpack. Though Master Turner had ordered her to undress, no one had fought her when she refused to take off her panties. They seemed to recognize that she had limits. Knowing that she could trust their restraint made her want to give up control to them. Was that crazy?
Master Turner had admitted he enjoyed being in charge and it turned him on. That made him a Dom. She’d been ordered around and it turned her on, which ought to make her a sub. But she wasn’t submissive.
Am I?
Chapter Two
Turner eyed Charlene speculatively. This had to be the most interesting interview he’d conducted in his life, though he was no longer certain what he was interviewing Charlene for. She looked at him with her pretty brown eyes, a frown forming in the middle of her forehead, and finally asked the question he had been waiting for.
“What were you trying to prove by making me strip? It doesn’t prove that I’m submissive.” She hastily added, “Which I’m not.”
“Aren’t you, Charlene?” Turner asked and stepped closer to her. He heard her indrawn breath, and when she would have stepped back, he reached out and clasped her wrist.
“So when I commanded you to remove your clothes, you didn’t become excited? Your nipples didn’t harden and your pussy didn’t become wet?”
Turner watched as she struggled to find a way to answer him, probably hoping to avoid the question. Charlene Seward wasn’t very tall, standing at around five foot three, but she was quite pretty. Her blonde wavy hair framed her heart-shaped face and hung loosely down around her shoulders. The body she tried to hide was voluptuous and curvy with just the right amount of padding so that a man wouldn’t be scared to give her some rough loving if he so desired. And desire her he did.
She was a natural submissive but she also had some backbone, which was just what he and Barry were looking for. They didn’t want a woman kowtowing to them, or a slave twenty-four seven. No, they wanted a woman who had a mind of her own, who could think for herself and stand up to them when pushed too far. But the bedroom was another story. The bedroom was where he and Barry would have total control.
He glanced toward Barry and could see his co-owner was just as enthralled with the little sub as he was. Barry, along with Master Tank, was part owner of Club of Dominance, but Barry didn’t like a
nybody knowing he was in partnership with him. Although Barry was just as domineering as he was, his longtime friend liked to keep his personal business just that, personal. Barry didn’t want to be known as an owner like Turner was. He had wanted to earn respect from the Doms and subs that used the club, rather than automatically receive it because of his position or wealth. That sort of thing had never bothered Turner, although after they had first started Club of Dominance and he had seen how in awe of him some or their members were, especially some of the subs, he could understand Barry’s reticence.
Turner had met Barry while they both worked for a security company and had become fast friends. They had known straight away that they were both dominant and had worked for another few years saving their hard-earned cash, with plans to one day open their own business. That dream had come to fruition ten years ago and neither of them had looked back since.
The club fulfilled the deep-seated desire they both craved for control and they were happy to have met so many nice people. They had made lifelong friends whom Turner knew he could call upon if the need ever arose, just as he and Barry expected them to call for help if they were in need.
But they needed a woman of their own. They had loved spending time with subs, training and disciplining them, but over the last twelve months they both had come to feel something was lacking. Turner had finally figured out that they were bored with different women and had stopped playing. Turner had just turned thirty-five and Barry was thirty-three. Both felt it was time that they started looking for a woman to settle down with. Someone they could both love and cherish and maybe start a family with.
Could Charlene be that woman? If she decided to stay and tend bar, he and Barry were going to want to explore her submissive side. She was a beautiful woman and he wanted to be able to act on the attraction he felt for her. He wasn’t sure he wanted her as an employee though. Much though they needed a bartender, and as well qualified as Charlene was, it would only muddy the waters if she worked for them.
