Embracing My Submission

by Jenna Jacob

  Mika walked to his desk and returned holding a strange metal flogger-looking instrument in his hand.

  “Motherfucker! Where is he? I’m going to kill him!” Drake cursed as he stood and inspected the odd-looking item. “No wonder her ass looks like hamburger.”

  “Looks like what?” I screeched, nearly jumping off the couch. “Let me see my ass! Get me a mirror.”

  “Let the doctor fix it up first, Julianna. Trust me. You don’t want to see it right now,” Drake soothed as he wrapped his broad hand around my shoulder.

  “Fine. At least let me see the thing that Jordon used then?” I asked, unsure what to even call the instrument of torture.

  I was at a loss for words when I saw the object up close. It was a short leather-wrapped stick with shards of razor blades welded into the ends of numerous long metal falls. The razor blades were rusty and ugly. No wonder Mika wanted me to get a tetanus shot.

  “Who uses something like this?” I asked in disbelief.

  “A fucking sadist. That cocksucker was only supposed to talk to you,” Drake spat. “He only had permission to get to know your limits, your likes, your dislikes. Never once did I even hint that he could take any liberties with you whatsoever. I would never set you up like that, Julianna.”

  “I know that, Sir.”

  “Julianna,” Mika interrupted in a deep but quiet timbre. “Here and now, you don’t need to bother with honorifics. We’re friends without the titles. Okay?”

  “Yes, Sir.” I closed my eyes and shook my head then opened them and nodded. “I’m sorry. Yes, Mika.”

  “Some subs can’t ever get instructions right, have you noticed that?” Drake teased.

  “Oh, hush! I’m synonymous for screwing up and you damn well know it,” I huffed.

  “You’ve just not met the right one yet girl.” Mika’s rich erotic voice spread over me like hot melted butter.

  “You think?” I asked Mika, raising a brow and curling my lip in a condescending sneer.

  “Put my name down on the list to fire up her ass once it’s healed, would you Drake?”

  “What?” My eyes flew open wide. “You’re not serious, are you?”

  “Oh, but I am!” Mika smiled mischievously.

  I instantly melted at his breathtaking smile, hypnotized by that full, thick bottom lip. If only I could do what I’d always longed to. I’d slip it between my lips, capture it with my teeth, and slowly glide my tongue over every plump inch. Hold your hormones, girl. That kind of thinking got you into this fucked-up situation in the first place.

  Drake laughed softly and assured Mika he would indeed add his name to the list.

  “I need to run down and check on Trevor. I’m sure he’s scared half to death and probably pestering the boots off Sammie. Will you be okay for a few minutes, baby?” Drake tucked an errant curl behind my ear.

  “I’m good. Please give him a big fat kiss and tell him I’m doing fine. I know he’s worried. I would be, too, if I were in his shoes.” I smiled and nuzzled my cheek against his warm, thick palm.

  Drake leaned over and kissed my forehead then stood and exchanged a quick nod with Mika.

  “I’ll be right here with her,” Mika assured Drake as he reached for the door. “Moses. Don’t go looking for Jordon. I’ll make sure he’s taken care of. Understood?”

  Drake mumbled something under his breath, then with a begrudging nod he stepped out of the room.

  Mika edged in closer to me, assuming Drake’s position on the floor. His eyes were hypnotic pools of splendor as they held mine in a wordless gaze. I finally understood the old adage that the eyes were the windows to the soul. I could see a myriad of emotions flickering through his shimmering amber panes. Longing and fear. Sadness and lust. Concern and sympathy. Involuntarily, I reached out to him.

  “Shhh. Lay still. The doctor will be here shortly.”

  “Why?” I softly asked.

  “Why what, honey? Err...Julianna.” He cleared his throat and his hand froze, suspended above my face, as if fighting a desire to touch me.

  “Why did you come down there?” I asked, wanting to fold my palm over his and nuzzle his dark hand against my face.

  “I had to.” He lowered his hand and caressed my cheek. “I had to.” He repeated in a desperate whisper.

  I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of his warm flesh, capturing that one, wonderful sensation and holding it tightly.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

  I opened my eyes, and his lips were a scant breath from mine. Inhaling, I filled my lungs with his scent. Cinnamon. His warm breath flowed over my skin, and I knew I would forever pluck this one moment from my mind and envelope myself in it the rest of my life. I closed my eyes again, slightly lifting my chin and readying myself for his kiss. I imagined the feel of those full, thick lips upon mine. The heat from his body washed over me like a rolling ocean tide, and I trembled.

  “Are you cold, girl?” he asked gruffly.

  I opened my eyes to find he’d pulled away, but I caught a fleeting glimpse of panic, or maybe horror. Embarrassed and feeling like a fool, I let loose an internal string of curses.

  “No, Sir,” I whispered, rejection gripping me in its familiar clutches as tears swam in my eyes.

  “I know you’re in pain, Julianna. It won’t be long. The doctor will be able to give you something to help take the edge off when he gets here.” He sighed, wiping away the fat tears that spilled from my eyes.

  No point in correcting him. The source of my tears wasn’t because of my decimated ass, but rather my decimated heart. No doubt he’d pulled back because he was repulsed at the thought of kissing me. But he did think of kissing me, probably out of pity. I closed my eyes and swallowed my threatening sobs.

  “Please don’t cry, Julianna,” he whispered once again. Leaning close, his fingers traced a tender pattern over my cheek.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, pet. Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. We got to you as soon as we could. I just wish it’d been faster. I had to round up Moses and the security team. I needed them there with me. I was scared to death that if I went in alone, I’d kill him.”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t have killed him. Not for this.” I sniffed.

  “Oh yes, I would have.” The conviction of his voice coupled with the look on his face had me second-guessing my doubts. Pure, bloodthirsty rage burned in his eyes.

  “Well, I appreciate all you badasses coming to my rescue.” I tried to sound lighthearted and to comfort his intense edge.

  “I’ll always come to your rescue, girl.” He stared back at me with that strange mix of emotions dancing in his eyes, the combination that made my heart thunder in my chest and my clit throb in need.

  Oh how I longed to reach out and touch him, caress his face, kiss his mouth. I wanted to make love to his tongue, nibble on that succulent lip, feel his warm, hard body on top of mine. But I’d already gotten myself into enough trouble. Besides, all my ridiculous erotic feelings were probably one-sided. One of these days, I was going to stop setting myself up for these brutal falls.

  “Well, hopefully you’ll never have to jump on your stallion and save the day.” I tried to keep my voice light, but instead it rushed forth like a sex-starved harlot. I should just shut up.

  “I’d better not. Ever. Or I’ll make sure Drake gives me free reign to your ass.” A provocative curl tugged his lips and there was a lewd twinkle in his eyes.

  Was this a test? Was he trying to see how much I could take before I rolled from the couch, dropped to my knees, and begged him to use me? I mean seriously. His whole “badass” one moment, “tender, protective” demeanor the next coiled my insides like a fucking rattlesnake.

  “Okay, now wait a minute. How is all this my fault? Oh, wait. I know. Because I’m the sub and everything’s our fault, right?” I asked with a hint of sarcasm.

  “No. This is not your fault. I’m simply looking for a viable excuse to fire up your ass.” His plump, ripe
lips drew tight across his mouth and he laughed, the sound a deep, rich, blood-boiling timbre that lit me up like a grand finale on the Fourth of July.

  “Like you’d need an excuse to begin with.”

  “And you’d be opposed to that?”

  “Not in this lifetime,” I boldly confessed, suddenly worried how it would be received.

  It wasn’t a smooth, easy glide but an urgent rush as his mouth hovered next to mine. His eyes blazed, hot and alive with desire. His lips stilled torturously close as his hands delved into my hair, holding me motionless. I gasped as a blistering wave of lust careened through my body. Quivering, yearning, I arched toward him, hungry for that first sweet touch of his lips.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Fuck!” he growled and released my hair. He launched himself from the floor like he’d been bitten by a snake and began pacing the room.

  A light knock at the door saved the awkward moment as Mika jerked then turned and opened it. Drake stood behind a short, balding man with wide, wire-framed glasses. Dressed in khaki trousers and a polo shirt, I was uncertain if the man was the doctor or a golf pro.

  Mika introduced the doctor as his friend Martin. “We’ve had a situation, and unfortunately Julianna here was on the receiving end of a very needless accident.”

  As Mika explained, in sorts, my peculiar predicament, Drake assumed his position on the floor by my head. His big warm hands massaged my scalp in reassurance and love.

  “Hello, Julianna. I’ll try to be quick and gentle my dear.” The doctor oozed warmth and reassuring comfort. “May I?” he asked.

  I nodded and with great care, he pinched the hem of the sheet between his finger and thumb. I hid my face in the crook of my arm. I didn’t want Drake or Mika to see any expression of pain or fear on my face. Mika cursed under his breath, and the doctor asked for more light as he cleansed my gnawed flesh. Drake’s fingers continued to soothe my scalp, and he murmured soft, loving praises in my ear as I lay motionless on the couch.

  It wasn’t quite as bad as hamburger, but it wasn’t an open welt from a whip either. I needed eleven stitches and a tetanus shot. The doctor drew three vials of blood and gave me his business card, instructing me to call his office first thing Monday morning to make a follow-up appointment. He told me to keep the area clean, covered, and medicated. I thanked him and promised I would call his office for an appointment. Then he left.

  Sliding off the couch, I crawled on all fours and sucked in a ragged breath. Both men hovered over me as if I were made of glass. The pain was subsiding but still raw enough to make me pause and gather my resolve before I attempted to stand up.

  I raised my head and came face-to-crotch with a glorious erection straining beneath Mika’s well-worn jeans. I froze. Not because I was afraid, okay well maybe a tiny part of me wanted to hide behind Drake, but I froze like a statue from the unfathomable realization that I’d aroused Mika. My heart thundered in my chest, and my mouth felt like the Sahara Desert as my eyes fixed at his crotch.

  Placing a knuckle beneath my chin, he lifted my face until I was staring into his eyes. Issuing a weak smile, he nodded minutely, but his eyes reflected a disturbing sadness I didn’t understand.

  “I’ve got a T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts in the closet next to the bathroom. If you can tolerate the fabric, Drake and I will take you home. If it’s too much, I’ll get a clean sheet for you.” Mika looked nervous.

  “I’ll give the clothes a try.” I was still reeling from the shock of his arousal.

  Standing in Mika’s bathroom, I carefully slid my legs through the soft nylon shorts, trying to wrap my head around all that had transpired. In a few short hours, I’d gone from fear to subspace, to orgasm, to fear, to pain. Now I was struggling with absolute confusion. Mika was real. My dreams weren’t some subconscious longings but an actual message...maybe? And what was his impressive hard-on all about? Was it me? Had I been the one to provoke such obvious desire? Yes, I’d been naked, but he owned a BDSM dungeon for crying out loud. He’d seen me and every other sub naked on numerous occasions. And if he’d wanted me, why hadn’t he come down from his mighty throne and claimed my ass—when it wasn’t raw hamburger—years ago?

  What kinky episode of The Twilight Zone had I stumbled into? My head hurt, my cheekbone stung, and my ass cheeks throbbed. I wanted to go home, slam some of the pain medication the doctor had given me, and go to sleep. The night had been surreal beyond belief.

  Exiting the bathroom, I gingerly walked past Mika’s desk, narrowing my eyes on the demonic weapon Jordon used on my ass. A photograph on his desk caught my eye, and I blinked in utter shock. It was her...Fanny-Frustration, the gossamer angel from my dreams.

  I swallowed tightly, averting my eyes back to the toy as I studied the woman’s image from my peripheral vision. No wonder I thought I’d been dreaming about myself. Except for the color of our hair, we were identical. She had my green eyes and narrow, oval face. We shared the same ivory complexion, and there was a sprinkling of freckles on the bridge of her nose, like me. Even our lips were shaped the same. It was quite unnerving to see a near mirror image of myself in a photograph of someone else. I couldn’t tell by looking at the picture how tall she’d been, or was. Hell, was she still alive? Mika was—maybe she was alive as well. If so, then where was she?

  A barrage of unanswered questions raced through my mind. What was her name? Who was she to Mika? His submissive? His wife? I wanted answers to questions I could never ask him. I couldn’t just blurt out that the woman had been visiting my dreams for nearly four years, and I wanted some answers. I’d sound like a nut job to both men. And no matter how much Drake loved me, he’d surely cart me away to a padded room.

  “Don’t worry, Julianna. We’re only keeping that as evidence,” Drake whispered as he draped a tender arm around my waist. “Come on baby, let’s go.”

  “Thank God.” I sighed in relief, pretending I’d been captivated by the insidious toy instead of the beautiful mystery woman’s photo.

  We followed Mika downstairs and out to the parking lot. I sat next to Drake in his car, and Mika followed behind in mine. My ass burned, and even the smallest dip in the road caused me to clench my teeth and bite back the urge to scream.

  “Why does Mika hide in his office?” I asked, trying to take my mind off the growing pain. But who was I kidding? I wanted info on Mika.

  “He doesn’t want anyone to know he owns Genesis.”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s his personal business, pet.”

  “You don’t work for him, yet you know who he is. None of the other members have ever met him, at least none that I know of. Why you?”

  “We’ve been friends longer than Genesis has been in business.”

  “So tell me about him.”

  “What is it you want to know, girl.” Glancing away from the road, he gave me a shrewd look. “You’re being awfully nosey.”

  “No, not really. I just want to know about him. He seems...I don’t know.”

  “Mysterious?”

  “No. I think that’s how he wants to be perceived, but that’s not who he is. He’s...sad.”

  Drake didn’t say anything for a long time, but I could tell by his body language and the way he gripped the steering wheel in his meaty hands that I’d hit a nerve.

  “We used to frequent clubs, years ago. Me, Trevor, Mika, and his slave, Vanessa.”

  “Is she the woman in the picture on his desk? The one who looks like me?”

  “Very observant, girl.” Drake nodded. “Yes, that’s her. The four of us were pretty much inseparable. Hell, we were inseparable. We vacationed together, damn near lived together. We had some incredible times, that’s for sure.” A melancholy smile spread across his mouth. It quickly vanished, replaced by a pained expression.

  “Vanessa got sick. She had an inoperable brain tumor. Mika’s father is wealthy—very wealthy—and has influential friends in very high places. So after Vanessa was diagnosed, Mika took
her to every specialist he could find here in the U.S. and abroad. There was nothing anyone could do to cure her. The entire two years she fought the cancer, he never left her side.” He exhaled a shaky breath and paused a long time before he continued. “She died on a gorgeous spring morning five years ago. A part of him died with her.”

  Glancing at me, his jaw clenched. “You repeat any of this to anyone and our friendship ends.”

  Tears trickled down my cheeks. “I’ll never say a word, Moses, I swear on my life.”

  He nodded and pressed a palm to each of his own eyes. “Good. Yes honey, you do look like her,” he stated, and I nodded in agreement. “You act a lot like her, too.” He chortled a bit and wiped away another tear.

  “But I’m not her. I don’t want to be confused with her because I can’t be someone’s ghost.” I sniffed, attempting to talk myself out of the fairy tale fantasies dancing in my head regarding Mika.

  “Trust me...he knows you’re your own person, Julianna.”

  “How do you know?”

  “We talk. A lot. The night you came to drop off your application to Sammie, he and I were in his office looking out over the dungeon. When you walked in, he stood up, his face went slack, and he started to shake. It was like he’d seen a ghost. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He finally turned to me, and with a pain I hadn’t seen in his eyes since Vanessa was lowered into the ground, he asked two questions: How and why?” He swallowed tightly and after a long silence, he finally spoke. “How did you find out about Genesis, love?”

  “I drove by one night and saw a woman walking into the building. She was wearing fishnet stockings and fetish shoes under a long coat. It was July. Nobody wears a trench coat in July. So I pulled over and parked across the street. I sat there for over an hour watching men and women enter through the nondescript wooden door. Everyone was wearing coats and jackets, but I spied bits and pieces of fetish wear beneath them. It became crystal clear that even with their flimsy vanilla guise, they were all ducking into Genesis to partake in secret pleasures.”