Shameless Submission: A Dark BDSM Romance

by Amanda Heartley

  The bathrooms were so different in the club than they were in the outside world. There was a bathroom for Masters and Mistresses and another bathroom for subs. The bathroom for subs had no door. The stalls had no doors. There were no mirrors on the walls, so they couldn’t waste time primping and preening. It was a little odd, but Stella really had to pee.

  Without thinking, she managed to get out of the bodysuit before she wet herself. She had to go so bad, she hadn’t thought of how she was going to get back into it without any help. Before she knew it, she was sitting there on the toilet with no doors on the stalls, the PVC body suit hanging over the top of her stiletto boots, and her tits hanging out. Great. She was so relieved when she saw Pet walk in, she almost cried.

  “Didn’t your Master have the common sense to put a zipper down there so you could go pee?”

  Duh, Stella thought. Why didn’t she think of that?

  “Well, he did, and there is a zipper, but I really had to go. I’ve never worn an outfit like this, and I just didn’t think of it.”

  Pet smiled at her.

  “Would you help me, Pet?”

  “Of course, love.” Pet reached toward Stella and helped her stand up.

  “Have you never been someone’s slave? A pet? A submissive? This is your first time?” Pet asked.

  Stella shook her head.

  “You have a lot of questions. I can see it in your eyes. Has your Master not given you the opportunity to speak to someone more experienced?”

  “No. At least, not yet.”

  “Master says your Master has never come this close to claiming someone as his own. He doesn’t normally bring girls in here. He’s never been serious about anyone. Master says he knew him back when he first started. He’d lost that girl he loved… Lucy I think it was? He didn’t know what to do with himself, and my Master introduced him to the lifestyle. He wouldn’t stay with anyone, but my Master taught him with prostitutes. That’s what you were… I mean, are, right?”

  Pet talked a lot, but Stella nodded silently.

  “You are special to him, though. I can see it.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course,” Pet said as she started working on Stella’s sleeves.

  “What is your real name?”

  “I am my Master’s Pet. That’s all I need for a name.”

  “What do you get out of this?”

  Pet stood and looked Stella in the eye.

  “Everything… and nothing. I mean, our relationship is stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced with any other man. He has my needs, my pleasure, and my well-being in mind, always. His love for me seems so unconditional. He knows me in ways no one else ever has. My secrets, my desires. Sure, I struggled with it at first. I thought it was wrong, but the longer I was with him, the more I realized it was okay to be who I am. I didn’t need to justify anything to him.”

  Stella was silent as Pet zipped up the back of her outfit. Kissing her on the cheek, Pet whispered in Stella’s ear, “Accept who you are, honey. Just accept it, and you will find your own peace.” Then she was gone back to her Master.

  Is it really as simple as that? Stella wondered. Did she just have to accept who she was? Who was she, anyway? Was she just like Pet? Stella leaned against the wall, thinking about all Pet had said to her, when suddenly, a man rushed in and put his hands to her throat. It all happened so fast, she didn’t have time to do anything but gasp for breath as she tried to free herself from his grip, wondering why she’d been attacked so violently. She didn’t know who he was, until he spoke, and she recognized his voice immediately.

  “You fucking whore! I can’t believe I ran into you here, you dirty little slut. I saw you talking to that other girl. You’re just like her, aren’t you? You like to get smacked around and then fucked, don’t you?” he shouted in her face.

  His breath stank of stale alcohol, just as it had the night he’d beaten her up. She realized it was him—the boozed-up john who had been with her right before Sir had appeared to take her away from Walt. What was his name? Willy?

  “I fucking knew you liked it rough that night that we were together. No wonder you didn’t fight back.” He released his grasp on her throat then backhanded her right cheek making her wince with the shock and the pain.

  “I knew you were a dirty bitch, but I had no clue you liked it this much.” His hand swooshed through the air, the heavy assault of his cracked knuckles meeting her soft cheek with such force that her head slammed against the bathroom wall. Fog clouded her mind as she tried to break free again, but he was too strong for her. She felt groggy from the bump to the head, her feet unsteady and her stomach revolting in pain. He tightened his hands around her throat, and she was sure he was going to strangle her right there.

  Thankfully, someone must have raised the alarm in the club, and she felt so relieved when she saw Sir rushing toward them. A small crowd began to gather at the doorway as Sir pulled her attacker’s shoulder from behind and smashed a huge iron fist into the man’s right cheek. His head snapped backward, and Sir slung him to the floor in a sprawled heap of drunken sweat. The man quickly staggered to his feet, holding his jaw. Reaching inside his jacket, he removed a shiny object that reflected in the low light of the bathroom. Stella heard the click of a switchblade cut through the air.

  “Michael, be careful!” she screamed.

  The guy grinned as he looked Sir in the eyes, circling the room as if he was weighing up the opposition.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, schmuck. Now I’m going to have to cut you,” he sneered as he waved the blade in front of him.

  “Yeah? Well, I suppose you can try. Do you know how to use that thing?” Sir asked, goadingly.

  The grin disappeared from the man’s face, and a red tinge painted his face. Now Stella was scared for Sir. “Michael, don’t! He’s got a knife for God’s sake!”

  “That’s right. Listen to the bitch, you motherfucker. Are you serious, man? You’re going to fight me for this whore? Tell you what. I don’t want to mess up my blade with your blood tonight, so why don’t you back off and go about your kinky business. I’ll take this whore and forget you just hit me. Now get out of here.”

  “She may be a whore, but she’s my whore. No one else lays a hand on her unless I say so.”

  “Fuck, man! You’re even more stupid than I thought. You know she’s only with you for the money? What are you paying her? $300? $400?”

  “I don’t discuss my business in public, man,” Sir goaded again.

  “More? You are one crazy son of a bitch. Why don’t you let me take her off your hands? Put her back on the street where she belongs. I’ll split the money with you seventy-thirty.”

  “I think you’d best stop talking like that,” Sir warned.

  “Why? What are you going to do about it?” he said, the grin back on his face.

  Sir didn’t answer. He just hung his head and looked down at the floor as if he was thinking. Catching the drunk off guard, Sir lunged forward, grabbing the man’s wrists and pushed him backward. The drunk crashed against the wall with a hard thud, and Michael’s knee made forceful contact with the attacker’s groin. He doubled over and slid down the wall, eyes bulging and gasping in excruciating pain. Michael stomped down hard on his wrist, and he yelled louder. Sir pried the knife from his hand, put it in his pocket, and rushed to Stella, still kneeling on the floor.

  “Stella, are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Sir asked with genuine concern in his eyes.

  She grasped her throat, rubbing the sting from the drunk’s assault, and softly choked out, “H-he hit me and tried to strangle me, b-but I’m okay… I think. Maybe a few bruises.” Sir gently took her hand in his and lifted her from the floor, looking her over cautiously.

  “He hit your face? Do you know him?” His tone was low and soft.

  “You don’t know who he is?” Stella asked, surprised.

  “No, I don’t think I recognize him. I haven’t seen him here befor
e.”

  “That’s the john I was with the night you came and took me to your home from Walt’s. That’s the crazy bastard who beat me up.”

  “Is it? What was he doing here? Was he looking for you?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I think it was a coincidence us both being here tonight.”

  “My sweet kitten. Let’s get you home.” It was so unlike Sir to speak to her that way, but she appreciated the comforting affection, nonetheless. She shivered to his touch when he protectively put his arm around her and led her toward the entrance of the club. It was a familiar sensation, the tingle that danced up her spine at Sir’s delicate touch—one she reveled in. At the door, Sir paused momentarily and leaned into one of the security guards and said something she couldn’t quite hear. Stella looked back and saw him motioning to another guy, and they disappeared inside. Whatever that guy was about to get, he deserved, she thought to herself.

  And now she was safe. With Sir. He’d come to her rescue again.

  As they drove home in the back of the limo, Sir pulled Stella in close to him. She thought about everything that had happened. Everything she’d seen that night with Pet and her Master. Everything that Pet had told her, and she thought she was finally beginning to understand. It was becoming clear to her. She wanted to talk to Sir about it, but she was so tired. Instead, she rested her head against his shoulder, and he kissed the top of her head again. It made her feel warm inside, safe, protected. Although she was convinced Sir didn’t love her, she felt loved in that moment. That was the last thing she remembered before she fell asleep and the next thing she knew, she was cradled in Sir’s arms as he carried her into the house and put her into bed.

  But wait! This wasn’t her bed. Was it? It was dark, she couldn’t see much of anything in the room, but she knew something was different. Sir’s face loomed closer to hers, and their eyes met in silence. He wiped her cheeks with a cool, damp cloth then he pulled up heavy blankets to cover her and kissed her on the cheek. She wanted to stay awake and talk to him, ask him why she was in a different room, but her eyes were too heavy. She knew now was not the time to be asking Sir questions. She didn’t want to annoy him after he’d been so caring of her. The next day would come soon enough and within minutes, she’d fallen into a deep, dreamy sleep.

  Chapter 20

  As Stella rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she realized she was in a room she’d never seen before. The sunlight through the heavy drapes gave a dim but warm glow that reflected off a huge mirror fixed to the ceiling above the bed. She sat bolt upright and looked around, taking in her new surroundings. It soon became obvious this was Sir’s bedroom—it had to be. Black silk sheets and pillow cases, dark wood nightstands, and heavy oak furniture strategically placed around the cavernous, masculine space filled with his belongings.

  But Sir wasn’t there. On a chair at the end of the bed, she noticed a summer dress and a box containing a pair of shoes that she guessed he wanted her to wear. No underwear, of course, which didn’t surprise her since she usually wore no clothes at all when she was in the house. Stella showered and washed her hair in the opulent, black marble bathroom, and after she’d dressed, she headed downstairs to the kitchen to look for him. As she walked through the kitchen door, Maga turned around from the stove and gave her a big beaming smile. Stella walked up to Maga and hugged her, taking her by surprise.

  “Are you okay, miss? Michael told me you had quite a night.”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Nothing a little sleep didn’t fix. Where is Sir?” Stella asked.

  “He had some business to attend to. He’ll be back when he’s ready.”

  “Do you know anything about this?” Stella asked, waving her hand at the dress.

  “No. He asked me to lay it out in his room, and I must say, you look very pretty in it.”

  “Thanks, Maga.”

  “Now, breakfast? I have some eggs, toast, and juice for you if you’re hungry.”

  “Thanks, Maga, that’d be great. I don’t know what I’d do without your cooking.”

  *****

  Several days passed, and she still hadn’t seen any sign of Sir. No way would Stella sleep in his bed again without his permission, so she’d gone back to her own room the following night. Maga had told her that Sir was around, but he was always gone before she woke up, and he wasn’t getting back until after she’d fallen asleep.

  Stella didn’t understand why he was avoiding her, and she wondered if he was mad at her for some reason; though, she couldn’t think what she’d done to make him angry. He’d seemed so affectionate and kind and—dare she say it—loving, the night they’d gone to the club. That night he’d surprised her by kissing her neck—twice. That night he’d carried her up the stairs, cradled her in his arms, and put her into his bed. Stella could stand it no more. She needed answers and went to the kitchen to find Maga washing vegetables at the sink.

  “Maga, when will I see Sir again?” Maga didn’t answer and continued scrubbing the dirt from a bunch of carrots. Stella was persistent and asked again. “Maga, is he mad at me for something? Where is he?”

  Maga stopped her scrubbing and placed the clean carrots onto the drainer. She turned around to face Stella, wiping her hands on her apron then nervously ran her fingers through her hair as she looked everywhere but at Stella. Fiddling with and pointlessly rearranging her knives on the counter top, she looked flustered and uncomfortable until there were no more knives to be set perfectly straight next to the heavy wooden chopping board. Finally, with one final run of her fingers through her hair, her eyes met with Stella’s.

  “Miss Stella, you must have faith. You must know that he is… complicated. Sometimes, he needs to think things out, and he needs to have time for himself to do it.”

  “Yeah, I understand that, but he’s been going out for so many days now. I actually miss him. Does this all have something to do with me?”

  “Yes, I’m sure it does. You must realize by now that Michael cares for you a great deal. I’ve worked for him a long time, and you’re the only one he’s spent this much time with since Lucy. You are the only one he’s gone out with in public. You are the only one who’s affected him this way. You just need to give him time.”

  When Stella woke the next morning, there he was. He looked rough, like he hadn’t slept in days. His face was unshaven, and his eyes were sunk deep into his head. There was no smile. Instinctively, she wanted to go to him and make him feel better, but since he’d deserted her again for so many days, she thought perhaps he looked rough because he was mad at her, or because he wanted to kick her out. She didn’t know, and being honest with herself, she didn’t even want to find out. She almost wished he’d up and go away so she wouldn’t have to find out.

  He didn’t say a word, but she figured he knew she was awake and if he was going to play it that way, she could, too. She threw back the covers to reveal her naked body, but that didn’t affect him the way she’d hoped it would. She wanted him to jump on her and make love to her, or throw her over his knee and take some of his anger out on her bare bottom. Either way, any kind of reaction would have been good.

  “Morning, Sir. May I bathe please?” Stella asked, but there was no reply, so she stepped out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. She hoped a good, long bath would make her feel better, at least.

  While she ran the water, she wondered what it was in Sir’s mind that had made him so morose, so distant? He was so hard to figure out. Why couldn’t he just come right out and say whatever he was thinking? Why did he have to make her wait and worry herself sick about what she may have done to anger him? She climbed into the tub and sank into it with a content sigh. The smell of jasmine and the warmth of the water on her skin seemed to help her put her thoughts into a more logical order. Things always tended to make more sense after a warm, relaxing bath.

  Something was definitely going on with Sir. He wasn’t happy, he wasn’t himself, and she was convinced it had something to do with her. She thought after th
eir last night at the club that they’d become closer… to something. She wasn’t sure what, but he’d put that chain around her neck, and even though she knew she shouldn’t like the idea of being owned by someone—she did. It made her feel treasured and safe.

  Stella thought about Pet and her Master, and how close they were. Pet had explained to her how the whole Dom/sub thing worked, and that made it easier to understand. It wasn’t about giving up control to someone else to get the things you wanted. It was so much more than that. And then she thought about the money. Did she really need it? Did she need the money more than she needed Sir? That’s when she realized she knew what it was all about. She’d been with Sir for a long while in a client relationship, and he’d promised to pay her monthly. And it was time for him to pay her about now. Why was he being so weird about it? Was he going to tell her to leave?

  She didn’t want to leave. It couldn’t be… could it? She quickly got out of the tub, dried herself off, and wrapped the towel around her. She called his name before she even got the door open.

  “Sir! Sir!”

  Stella burst through the bathroom door, but he was gone. For a moment, she wondered if she’d dreamt he was sitting there when she woke, and maybe she could have if it wasn’t for a big wad of cash sitting on the dresser. Her heart sank. He’d assumed—he’d assumed she was going to ask for more money and nothing in her mind had changed. She had to find him. She hurriedly put on the dress she’d been wearing the day before and slipped her feet into the sandals. Grabbing the wad of cash, she rushed out the bedroom door.

  “Sir! Sir! Where are you?” He wasn’t in his room. “Sir!” Not in the playroom. “Sir?” She checked every room until she found herself at the kitchen door.

  “What is it, honey? What is the matter?” Maga asked. It smelled amazing in there as usual, but even the aroma of delicious food cooking wasn’t enough to distract Stella from finding him.