by Dakota Trace
“Your membership was originally owned by Grant.”
She tried to focus on him despite the fury consuming her. He stopped mere inches from her.
“When he un-collared you, I took control of it. So while you’re an un-collared sub, your membership rides on my good graces.”
Rage overwhelmed her and filled her until she shook. That rotten, controlling, dominating arsehole! I should’ve gelded him when I had the chance!
“Think twice before you lash out, m’gnogag, I only had your best interests at heart. You were in no shape to deal with the numerous Masters who wanted to approach you.”
She glared up at him. “What Masters?”
He leaned over her and tipped her face up to his. “The ones who petitioned me for access to you for nearly six months after Grant left.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re lying!”
His gray eyes grew ice-cold. “Have I ever lied to you?”
She swallowed as she noted the tightening of the muscles around his sensual mouth. She knew she’d pissed him off, but this time she hadn’t meant to. An apology was needed posthaste.
“I’m sorry, Master Alastar. It was my disbelief speaking. I’d never accuse you of lying to me.” She held her breath while she waited to see if he’d accept her apology.
For a long moment, she thought he was going to reject her heartfelt apology when finally his mouth relaxed.
“Accepted.”
She ducked her head in relief. It was to be short-lived.
“But the next time you call me a liar, slave, I will bend you over and warm your delicious backside.” He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “Do you understand?” His grip was firm on her chin, not allowing her to look away from his all knowing eyes.
“Yes, Master Alastar.” Her reply was barely audible, but as close as their bodies were, she knew he’d heard it.
“Good.” He slowly released her face. “Now, for you to observe in the main room, there are two options. You must wear the silver inlaid cuffs all of our new trainees wear or have me in attendance. The choice is up to you.”
She nibbled on her lip. Was he rethinking his decision to my earlier offer because Lord knows I don’t want to be mistaken for a newbie! Hope blossomed inside of her. “I’d love to have your…”
She was shocked when he held up a hand to stop her. “Think carefully before you finish that sentence. If you ask for my escort, I’ll assume you wish to take me up on my earlier offer.”
The hope which had begun to bloom withered away. He’s such a bastard when he doesn’t get what he wants.
“So what’s it going to be?” His voice was cool as if her answer wouldn’t affect him one way or the other.
“I’ll take the cuffs.”
He nodded impassively as if her decision hadn’t mattered. “Master Simon?”
Her eyes flew towards the other man. She’d totally forgotten him once Amery had entered the room, and her disregard of a Master – any Master scared her.
A faint tremble quivered within her when Amery took the cuffs from Simon’s outstretched hand. She watched as he calmly locked the fur lined silver cuffs around her wrists.
“There you are, slave.”
Her chest tightened as he slowly straightened. Any familiarity she’d hoped to find in his expression was missing. Where has my friend gone to? Have I lost him?
As if he could read her mind, he gave a gruff response. “I’ll always be here for you, Myrna.”
Relief flooded her. She nodded before standing to leave. She was nearing the door when she felt his presence behind her. “We’ll always be friends, but perhaps you’ll reconsider the status of friendship once you remember what drew you to this lifestyle.”
She stiffened. “Why do you say that?”
“Because once you get the itch - you’ll want it scratched. So you might want to reconsider my offer, slave.”
She closed her eyes in disbelief. He’s such a stubborn man. Never knows when to give up. “Amery, please…”
He ignored her plea. “I will as soon as you give me what I want.”
A soft moan built in her throat and she yanked open the door. She had to get away from him before she did something as stupid as fall at his feet and beg him to let her serve him.
Chapter Three
After following Myrna from the office, Amery leaned against the bar with a bottle of water in one hand and watched as his brave little Myrna took her first tentative steps back into their world. When she approached the mahogany railing separating the bar area from the lower play-area, his breath caught in his throat. Would she do it? Her hesitant steps as she first started then stopped, before starting again was a testament of how much she was struggling with her fear. Come on, m’gnogag, you can do it. Just take a peek. I need you to remember how beautiful submission can be.
As if she heard him, she took three quick steps to reach the railing. Her hands wrapped around the polished wood until he was sure she’d left imprints in its satiny surface. More than anything, he wanted to go to her - to be the one to be at her side as she faced her past for the first time; to be her rock. When she swayed slightly, he jerked. Setting down his water bottle with a thud, he was getting ready to rescue her when the heavy clap of a hand fell on his shoulder.
“Don’t. You’ve got to let her do it. This first step has to be hers and hers alone.”
Glancing over his shoulder to see Simon, he was tempted to shrug off the restraining hand and sweep in to rescue Myrna, but he knew the other man was right.
Amery gritted his teeth while watching Myrna steady herself. “It’s hard.”
“A wise man once told me that the hardest part of caring for a submissive was allowing her to stand on her own two feet when faced with adversity. All a Dom can do is be there to catch her if she stumbles.” Simon gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You have to let her try to face her demons.”
If he hadn’t been so worried about Myrna, Amery would’ve laughed at Simon’s words. The scamp had no problem with tossing Amery’s own words back in his face.
“Tell that wise man he’s full of shit.”
Simon’s laughter rolled over him while he continued to squeeze the water bottle in his hand.
“Well I’ve thought that more than once, but he’s been right too many times for me to disregard his advice.”
Amery jerked his gaze away from Myrna to focus on Simon. Even as he worried about Myrna, a reluctant wave of pride washed over him. Next to Caelan, Simon was his biggest success. Under Amery’s guidance, the angry young man who’d been looking at violence as his only outlet had matured into a well-trained and experienced Dom. He'd never been prouder than the day Simon had finally tapped into the dark violence within, using it to give ultimate pleasure. More than one sub had experienced the change firsthand under Simon’s lash.
“I suppose there might be some truth in that – so why am I fighting the urge to ignore my own advice?”
Simon slid onto the seat next to Amery. “Because this isn’t some nameless sub you’re applying your advice to. This is Myrna – the sub you’ve been waiting for as long as any of us can remember. All your good advice or intentions have fallen by the wayside. Your objectivity, if you ever had any with her, is gone.”
Amery glared at him. Have I been that obvious? “So exactly what are you trying to say, Simon? That everyone knows how I feel about her?”
Simon shook his head. “Only those few of us who remember her from her time in the lifestyle back then.”
A throaty feminine voice filled Alastar’s ear. “So who is it we’re remembering?”
Amery stiffened. Ah, hell, there’s no way she can be here – not that little tyrant. The last time I saw her was at Nisey’s collaring ceremony. She can’t be here – fate isn’t that cruel! Even as he denied it, he knew Fate could be a really cruel bitch and wasn’t above sending the bane of his existence to torment him.
“Myrna,” Simon the traitor, said helpfully.
/>
“Where?” The eager sound which escaped the little Domme had him wincing.
Amery groaned before turning to face Bozka “Olivia” Metjka. She was perched on the seat on the opposite side of Simon. Her youthful body was clad in the dark leathers cupping her slender legs, an indigo corset which made her tiny waist seem smaller, and a pair of knee high black high-heeled boots. With her dark hair braided away from her face and a mischievous but dominant pout gracing her pink lips, Olivia was definitely a force to be reckoned with. Deep in the pit of his stomach, Amery knew she was here to cause him trouble. She wouldn’t be able to resist. He swore over half of the silver hairs he possessed were courtesy of the little spitfire who’d just made herself at home against the bar.
Taking a deep breath, he prepared for the worst. “Olivia, don’t you dare…”
She met his eyes before giving him a glimmer of a smile. “Don’t what? Do you honestly think I’m going to scare Myrna off? Especially, after it’s taken this long for her to work up the nerve to enter a club? I doubt she’d even be doing this if weren’t for Caelan bringing Nisey to visit in just a few weeks. Despite that fact, I’m not sadistic enough to jeopardize your long awaited chance to claim her.”
Shock rolled over Amery. How the hell had she found out? He was still gaping at her when she pushed away from the bar.
“With that being said, I’m going to wander over and say hi to her. She looks like she could use a little bit of feminine company, especially considering the vultures circling her.”
Amery spun in his seat to see that in the few minutes he’d been distracted by Olivia, indeed three of the younger Doms had moved closer to Myrna. They were still a good ten feet away, but he knew it wouldn’t be long and they’d approach her. A submissive never was alone long. He watched as Olivia joined Myrna at the railing. His breath caught as he waited for an adverse reaction.
When there was none, he turned back to bar. His fingers clenched tightly around the half empty bottle of water. More than anything he wanted to be the one standing next to Myrna – offering her his protection as a Dom. It was all he could do to stay seated. He wrestled with his need for her in contrast to what the responsible Dom in him was supposed to do. Dammit, I can’t. Not until she accepts what comes with my protection. I won’t force her into a relationship with me, even though I know I could. After what she’s been through, it has to be her choice. No Dom worth his salt ever forces a sub into a relationship.
His hands trembled slightly as he opened the bottle of water to take another swig while he tried to rein in his inner Dom.
* * * *
Trying to keep her breathing even, Myrna glanced down at the play area without really focusing on anything. She could vaguely hear the sounds of flesh being struck, the breathy pleas of the submissives and firm commands of the Masters. What scared her was the fact it felt as if it were coming from a distance. The sights and sounds were having no effect on her. Panic flared bright and hot. Am I doomed? Why can’t I connect with what’s going on down there? I want to at least remember what it was I found so compelling about being dominated. Faced with this, all I feel is an overwhelming need to run away.
Growing more agitated with her indecision, she was just getting ready to fling herself away from the rail when a shadow fell across her hands. Her attention was jerked away from her lack of response towards what once would’ve sent her careening along the razor-sharp edge of pleasure to the person standing at her side. She turned, fully prepared to blast Amery into next week, only to find a slender woman in his place. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she tried to place the woman.
“If I were any other Domme, I would have you punished for your direct look, sub.” The Domme crossed her arms over her chest before leaning against the rail on her hip without taking her attention from the scene going on below.
The combination of the woman’s stance and the authority in her voice with its throaty rumble tugged on Myrna’s memory until she finally placed the woman. She found her own voice and her response wasn’t in the submissive tone she knew the woman would be expecting.
“That threat might have worked if I hadn’t wiped your snotty nose, Bozka.”
The brunette head slowly turned to stare at her. If Myrna had been any other submissive she would’ve fallen to her knees and begged for the woman’s forgiveness. The frosty look in the Domme’s eyes did little to faze her though.
“You do believe in living dangerously don’t you, malý matka?”
A warm fuzzy contentment washed away the cold dread she’d been feeling since she’d entered the club at Olivia’s endearment. Little mother. She hadn’t heard that phrase in years. It did what no amount of coaxing on Amery’s part or building pressure from Caelan’s upcoming visit could do: it relaxed her.
“It’s never dangerous, holčička, when one loves you as I do.” Without hesitation Myrna lifted her hand to the woman, touching her cheek. It was hard to believe the grown woman in front of her had been like a daughter to her: her holčička – her little girl. The training Amery had given Olivia had shaped the younger woman into a woman Myrna barely recognized. She couldn’t have been more proud. The scared vagabond she’d caught trying to pick her pocket was long gone. If I didn’t know better, I’d never relate that scamp to the confident woman standing next to me.
Her eyes misted when a rare smile crossed Olivia’s sensual lips. “Very true. It’s good to see you. This has been a long time coming.” She gestured to the play area below. “I thought I’d never see the day you’d willingly enter a club again.”
Myrna shrugged. “I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Who? Your son, or the man who’s been waiting for you?” Olivia’s soft prompt had Myrna tensing. She honestly didn’t have an answer to that question. She might be in denial but she had eyes in her head. She’d seen the speculative looks Amery had given her for years. It was as if he’d been merely biding his time, waiting for something – some small word, gesture or clue Myrna was ready to once more rejoin his world – no, their shared world. She had to be honest with herself. This dark sensual world had once been hers despite her current fears.
The soothing murmur of Olivia’s voice broke through her inner turmoil.
“Relax, it’s just me, your holčička. Let me help – I need to do this. I can’t stand to see you so uncertain of yourself, malý matka.”
Briefly Myrna wondered if the younger woman was only offering her assistance because she saw Myrna as a pitiful, broken-down submissive who’d outlived her use. But as quickly as the thought came, she discarded it. The Olivia she knew would never pity her. She would kick Myrna’s butt up between her shoulder blades before one ounce of pity would be given.
A totally unexpected giggle forced its way past Myrna’s throat at the idea. Cocking a hip next to her to rest her weight against the railing, a rare smile graced Olivia’s full lips.
“It’s good to hear you laugh. Now I want you to hold onto that feeling and describe what you see down there.” Olivia tossed the long dark braid which had been draped across one small breast over her slender shoulder.
Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, Myrna met Olivia’s eyes. “Why?”
A dark brow rose. “Why what? Even a submissive as rusty as you are, Myrna, realizes questioning a direct order is a surefire way of getting her backside warmed. Just because I look at you as a mother, doesn’t mean I’ll hesitate to use this,” she touched the small braided whip resting on her hip. “In fact, I’m more prone to use it on you than a random stranger. I’m only going to be here for a short time before I head back home to Jude and I’d love to see the return of my malý matka – not the woman in denial I’ve heard you’ve become.”
Relief rushed over Myrna. Olivia wasn’t imposing her will on her simply because she had an ulterior motive like Amery, or even a selfish one like that of her son. She had to be fair to Caelan though. He wasn’t deliberately being selfish – she’d known for years he was active in the lifestyle, but
he was always discreet when he visited. However, a mother did heard things. He shouldn’t have to hide his relationship with Nisey because he’s afraid of hurting one old woman’s feelings.
Determination had her back straightening. She could do this! She could take this first step. After hearing Caelan’s love for his submissive the last time they’d spoken on the phone, she could do no other. All she had to do was focus on the people below and describe to Olivia what she saw. It didn’t have to affect her. She wouldn’t let it. She finally nodded before reaching to touch the hand Olivia had rested on the banister. Her hand paused midway. It was one thing to touch Olivia with the purpose of a mother greeting a child of her heart, but quite another for a submissive to touch a Dominant. In fact, touching a Dom or Domme without permission was forbidden.
“Breathe, Myrna.” The soft command in Olivia’s voice had Myrna realizing she’d been holding her breath while fighting with her need for assurance in the form of physical contact with Olivia. She drew in a shaky breath before turning her eyes back to the scene before her.
Her words were soft and halting before Olivia’s hand covered hers.
“There…are…is…” Her eyes darted around the play area, unsure where to start.
“There is what?” Keeping her voice low, Olivia moved closer to Myrna, not only to comfort her but to block the interested gaze of a nearby Dom. When the unfamiliar Dom moved closer to inspect them, Myrna froze, her body attuned the movement of the man. Fear pushed against her slipping control.
“I don’t know if…” As she struggled with her words and the unwanted attention of the Dom, she could feel her earlier determination start to slip away.
“Ignore him. Amery is mere feet away at the bar. He’ll stop him from getting too close.”
Myrna shook her head. “No he won’t.”
A concerned look followed by a puzzled one assured Myrna that Amery hadn’t told Olivia about his ultimatum.
“He’d never let another hurt you.” The absolution in Olivia’s voice had Myrna’s eyes stinging with unshed tears. She’d once thought the same thing.
