“Modifications?”
“Yes. For example, your pussy needs waxing. I prefer a clean pussy at all times. I can also tell that you shave your legs. While you are here at the Pleasure Cave and under my tutelage, you will be waxed, completely. When I touch your skin, I want it to feel like silk.”
“All right,” she whispered.
“Now turn around, I want to see the rest of you.”
He watched as she slowly turned, letting him look at her voluptuous figure. Raw and unrefined, she was a diamond in the rough. He could not wait to begin her training. “Beautiful.”
She slightly blushed by the compliment.
“Do you not agree, pet?” he asked, curious.
“I’ve never considered myself beautiful. I have a big bottom, and my breasts are…well, they’re just huge.”
“I see,” he murmured. Quinton did not know what to say to her description of herself. From where he was sitting, she was a pinup model’s dream. Curvy and full in all the right places, she had the body most men could only dream of curling up against late at night, unlike the stick figures that had been scouring the club lately. Quinton never could understand why a woman would willingly starve herself to fit a mold that just was not sexy. Men wanted full breasts, an ass they could hold on to, and a soft body made for fucking, not a goddamned twig.
“How long will you be staying at the Pleasure Cave doing research?”
“One week. I have to be back in New York on Monday.”
“Well, Andrea, that does not give us much time. Turn around and place your hands on the coffee table, legs spread apart. I want to see all of you.”
She mulled over what he had asked of her and when the realization hit, her face turned beet red. Though she could have put a halt to this instantly, she lowered her lashes, and did exactly as he requested. She amazed him with her trust. They had only met over an hour ago, and yet, she was willing to participate fully to understand and learn what it truly meant to be a submissive. She was special.
After he had inspected her fully, satisfied with what she had to offer, he spent the next hour teaching her how to properly present herself to him. An inquisitive woman, she always had questions for every step of the process, as if her mind was trying to assimilate every detail. She was a sponge, soaking up all the data, as fast as he could give it to her.
Looking at her now, on the floor, her knees spread wide, palms facing up, back straight, and head bowed, she looked the part of a true submissive as if she had been doing this most of her life. She never uttered a word once she was in the right position, waiting for his next command.
“You have beautiful hair, Andrea. For the next week, you will wear it down.”
“Okay.”
“Now, I am going to go change. You are to stay in this position until I come back. Do not let me find that you have moved. Is that clear?”
“Stay put. Got it.”
“Good girl.”
* * * *
With her head lowered, she could only see his feet as he walked away. When she heard a door close, she finally let out the breath that she had been holding. Indecision washed over her. She could not believe she had done half of the things he had requested. It was not like her to bend so easily to one’s bidding, yet, when he’d asked her to perform some duty, she found herself eagerly wanting to please him.
Before she’d come to Montana, she had done some research into BDSM, but what she learned had confused her. She had learned that BDSM stood for Bondage, Discipline, Sadism, and Masochism. Though it was commonly referred to as Bondage/Domination, Domination/Submission or Sadism/Masochism, the groups all encompassed the BDSM scene. She knew what each term meant individually, but when grouped together, they formed something altogether different. She had talked with psychiatrists and psychologists about BDSM, and though they gave her several clinical variances regarding the mindset of the individuals who performed or lived the lifestyle, none could give her the real reason why someone would willingly do this.
When she brought her preliminary research to her editor, they had discussed several ways to find the truth about what BDSM was really about, but nothing worked. Left with only one choice, she willingly volunteered to submit to one week of the lifestyle. Though looking at that decision now, she was second-guessing her decision. It was one thing to ask questions about the unknown, but it was something entirely different to submit to the unknown.
Of course, if she could follow through with her plan, she would have the exclusive of a lifetime and would no longer be regulated to promoting the latest shoe styles out on the market.
She had attended New York University for a degree in journalism. After graduating with honors, she had her pick of newspapers, magazines, and web companies wanting to hire her, but she chose the one that she felt best fit her needs. She never thought she would be given a mundane section, yet she accepted it with gratitude, and worked hard to produce a well-informed article every week.
Now faced with the chance to do some real investigative work, she found herself unsure and scared. It was not that she felt she lacked the skills to get the job done. It was the journey that she feared. She knew going into this, if she wanted to know the truth about BDSM, she was going to have to give one hundred percent of herself, and she was ready for that, accepted it.
Kneeling in the exact position Quinton, or Master, as he preferred, had instructed was actually very comforting. When she thought her legs should be hurting, they were not. The position afforded her some comfort, almost like a meditative state. Mulling that over in her head, she never heard the front door open.
Chapter Four
Justice Hightower had spent the last two hours scouring the club, looking for his wayward reporter. He had found out from reception that he had arrived late, and was waiting for another room. Thinking he might have gone to the media room for a drink, he was not surprised to find club residents getting the room set up for the annual talent show. The annual talent show was a big deal for the Pleasure Cave. Contestants came from all around the world to participate and enjoy the festivities. Though looking around at all the guests, eager to be settled and start exploring the club, Justice knew if he did not find his lost reporter soon, his ass was going to be grass.
His easy babysitting job was quickly becoming a pain in the neck.
After searching every public domain the club offered, he started searching the private rooms, praying the reporter had not wandered too far into the club. Nevertheless, his search turned up nothing. There was no way in hell he was going to tell Matthias that he had a lost reporter roaming the club. He needed to find the nosey man quick before anyone found out and he needed help doing it.
Walking back over to reception, he spotted Violet and smiled. “Good morning, Violet.”
“Good morning, Master Justice. How can I be of service?” she asked never making eye contact with him. Violet had been with the Pleasure Cave for over five years. Gabriel and some of the other residents were visiting a club in upstate New York, when they’d found her with a controlling Dom, who was beating her in public, severely scarring her beautiful body. It had taken Gabriel, Braxton, Quinton, and Matthias to stop her Dom from the whipping he was giving her. Following the aftermath, Gabriel and Braxton insisted that she press charges against her Dom, and stood by while he was arrested and charged with assault. After that, Gabriel gave sanctuary to Violet. She accepted, never leaving his sight or the Pleasure Cave, unless she was with him or Matthias. Gabriel had paid for all of her medical expenses and therapy, and when she was able, he gave her a position at the club. Violet was a sweet submissive, but still refused to accept anyone’s claim. Protected by all the residents, Violet became the club’s “little sister” and each Dom, even Katarina, who rarely took a liking to anyone, watched out for Violet.
“You look mighty pretty today, Violet.”
“Thank you, Master Justice.” Her voice was so soft he had to lean closer to hear.
“You’re welcome.
Can I get you to look in the registry and see if an Andy Sharp has been assigned a room?”
“Yes, Master Justice.”
Over the years, Justice had watched as Violet slowly came out of her protective shell. Violet never went unescorted in the club, and always wore a diamond choker that Matthias and Gabriel had picked out for their own peace of mind. Since she preferred to only work during the day, she would always wait at the desk for Matthias or Gabriel to escort her back to her room, where she’d retreat for the night, and where she felt safe. Given quarters right next to Matthias, he took it upon himself to check on her daily, making sure that she was okay, and that nobody bothered her.
“I am sorry, Master Justice, but there is no record of an Andy Sharp being given a room. Would you like me to check next week’s reservations?”
“No thank you, Violet. I guess he gave up and left. I’ll just let Matthias know the man never showed, and he can tell Gabriel.”
“Very well, Master Justice. Good day.”
Pushing away from the reception desk, Justice quickly sent Matthias a text and headed for his quarters. After spending the better half of the morning trying to find the reporter, all he wanted to do now was get something to eat and head back to the media room. Figuring Jason and Katarina might need some help with the Puppy group, he was more than willing to help. He was not in the mood for the Nirvana group. It was not that he hated the free lovers, hell he actually enjoyed their company, especially when he got them on the subject of politics. Now that was a fun conversation. Of course, he only did it to see if he could rile them up, but it never failed, no matter how hard he tried to get under their skin, they never flustered.
Damn hippies! It was just that the Puppy group was so damn funny to watch, and it had been a while since he’d had a good laugh. He needed some fun in his life.
For the last six months, he had been in a funk, thanks to his brother, Mister I-Want-It-My-Way. Thanks to Quinton’s inability to look past a simple inadequacy, Justice was forced to relinquish a submissive that he thought actually fit their needs. He knew Quinton preferred his submissives a certain way, but damn, his brother could be too picky at times.
Nobody was perfect!
Exiting the elevator on the third floor, he walked the long hallway trying to remember the last time he’d had a soft woman underneath him. Though he was trained to restrain his natural urges, his body had needs, and it wasn’t Mr. Lefty or his friend, Mr. Righty! He needed a woman. A soft, sensual, beautiful woman, with full luscious lips, a nice set of tits, and an ass he could take a bite out of, soon.
Stopping at his apartment, he placed his black keycard in the lock and walked in, only to stop dead in his tracks.
There, presenting herself very prettily, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Small and dainty, her flaming red hair fell around her like a cape. Her soft pearlescent skin shimmered under the florescent lights as she sat with her head bent. Her breathing was controlled, almost as if she was meditating. She never flinched or moved a muscle when the door shut.
Thank you, God!
Smiling to himself, he walked into the room, sat in the one of the leather recliners in the living room, and just watched her. He did not know who she was, what she was doing in his quarters, or how she had gotten in for that matter, but he did not care. He loved coming home to find a willing submissive offering herself so demurely.
Leaning back in the chair, he never took his eyes off her. He wondered just how long she had been in that position, when his brother walked back into the room. Justice looked up at Quinton, arching an eyebrow.
“Master Quinton,” he acknowledged.
“Master Justice. You’re home early.”
“And it looks like I have missed some of the fun.”
Quinton walked over to the beautiful submissive and gently petted her hair, cooing. “Very nice, Andrea. I would like to introduce you to my brother, Justice. He is a Master too, and as such, you will address him as Master Justice. Please go present yourself to him.”
Justice watched as the small woman slowly stood and walked over to stand in front of him. Her legs spread and arms wide, she never looked at him once.
Hmm, very submissive, he thought, looking the woman over.
“Turn,” he ordered, and watched as she immediately complied. “I must say, brother, you do have all the luck. You found a pretty pet, and I lost the wayward reporter.”
“How in the hell did you lose the reporter?” Quinton barked loudly. “It’s one man. All you had to do was go to reception, find what room he is in, and tail his ass. Matthias and Gabriel are going to be pissed if he is wandering around the club without an escort.”
“Well, according to Violet, there is no record of an Andy Sharp in the club.”
Chapter Five
Andrea gasped. They were looking for her. Why? She was told she had full access to the club. What was the owner trying to hide? Why would he insist that she be escorted everywhere? Were they going to deny her access to parts of the club? And if so, why? Her mind reeled with unanswered questions. She knew the lifestyle had its secrets, any organization did, but according to her research, the BDSM lifestyle was supposed to be open, a lifestyle based on trust. If she could not trust the owner to live up to his word, then how could she trust Quinton to show her what it really meant to be a submissive?
Deciding to keep quiet, she mulled over everything she had learned in the last few hours. Accepting the fact that Quinton was so far honest with her, since she had already done the research into a submissive presenting her or himself, she decided to continue on with her current course of action. If the Pleasure Cave had any secrets, the only way she was ever going to find them out was to fully become a true submissive.
Set with her decision, she once again controlled her breathing, and listened.
“Are you sure Violet checked the whole database. Maybe someone else checked him in?” Quinton asked.
“Violet is thorough, and you know it. Nothing gets past her. If she said there is no Andy Sharp, then there isn’t one here in the club. Besides, I consider it a blessing. The thought of babysitting a reporter for the next week and answering all of his questions seemed tedious and boring.”
“Well, I am sure Matthias will be happy the intruder is gone. He hates reporters,” Quinton admitted.
“So, brother, tell me about this little delicious treat. Where did you find her?”
Laughing, Quinton replied, “She actually found me, or should I say, fell into me. Her name is Andrea and she is doing research. She wants to know if this lifestyle is for her and I have offered to help her find out.”
“Really? And how long do we have the pleasure of her company?”
“Just for the week.”
“That’s not a very long time,” she heard Quinton’s brother, Justice, say as he stood, walking around her. She did not know what to make of the brother. Unlike Quinton, who was soft-spoken and gentle, Justice was harsher and more direct. Yet, there was something about him that made her feel protected. It was all very confusing.
“Has she signed a contract?” Justice asked his brother, and her ears perked up. What contract? I have to sign a contract? Why? Her nerves were beginning to get the better of her.
“I was just about to ask her if she would allow us the honor,” Quinton said.
Us?
The both of them?
Oh, God help me.
“Have you gone over all the rules set forth in the contract? Is she aware that when we take on a submissive, we do so wholly, that for the length of the contract she is our property and is subject to our demands and punishment?”
“Jesus Christ, Justice, why don’t you just scare the shit out of her too! She is new to all of this, I was going to break it to her gently, you know, nicely with a soothing voice. I don’t want her running for the door, screaming her head off.”
“Just being honest, brother. No sense beating around the bush,” Justice said, pointing toward the junct
ure of her legs. She blushed again. “She needs to know the cold hard facts. I prefer the direct approach.”
“Well I think she needs a gentle hand.”
“Or you can tell me what it really means to be your submissive and let me decide,” she whispered, shutting them up immediately. The silence of the room was deafening. She could only hear their breathing and even that was causing her heart to beat faster. Had she already made a mistake, or were they considering what she’d said? Hell, she did not know, and right now, she was wishing she had kept her damn mouth shut.
“Kneel,” Justice ordered harshly, and for some reason, she dropped to the floor so quickly it was as if someone flipped a fucking switch in her body. Her breathing increased as she tried to figure out what it was, or what she had done wrong. She could tell by the tone of Justice’s voice that he was angry with her for some reason, and even though Quinton just sighed, he did nothing to stop his brother.
* * * *
Tearing his eyes away from her beauty, Quinton gazed at the meal before him. He immediately wanted to shove his growing cock into her impertinent little mouth. He forced back the smile that threatened to light up his face. An opportunity to test Andrea had presented itself, and not wanting to pass up a good punishment, he said, “Andrea, presentation is very everything, not only to you as the submissive but also to your Master. The first thing you need to learn is when to speak and when to be quiet. Since you do not seem to know the difference, I am going to punish you. Do you agree?”
Quinton watched as Andrea’s complexion glowed red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Master Quinton. It won’t happen again.”
“I told you not even a few minutes ago that you would be punished for failure to follow the rules correctly and it would result in immediate disciplinary action. I see I’m going to have to show you that I mean what I say.”
Breached [The Masters Series 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 3
