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Page 7

by Dakota Trace

Shutting her mouth, she bit down on the hot retort about what he could do with her membership. Frankly she didn’t care about the membership - but she did care about Amery and she had a feeling she’d hurt him earlier. A hurt she had to make right.

  She watched as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you going to listen now?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. As I was saying, I know Amery and I’ve never seen him as downhearted as I did when he came in a few minutes ago.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her whisper had Simon’s nose flaring.

  “You can’t follow orders worth a damn, Myrna. You’ve been away from the scene too long. I don’t know why Amery bothers with you, but nonetheless I’m not the Dom who has to put up with your rebellious ways, or remind you why you’re supposed to follow protocol.”

  Her jaw hardened as anger filled her. How dare he treat me like a disobedient child! I’m old enough to be his mother. I was in the scene for ten years before he entered, and he has no earthly idea what I’ve been through!

  “Before you go thinking I know nothing, you should consider I’ve been both a friend and student of Amery’s for nearly thirty-five years. As such, Amery has confided in me often. I know you went through hell with Grant, but what right does it give you to treat Amery like this? He’s done nothing more than care for you. I’m tempted to have you removed from the premises. Amery even agreed to let me make the final decision if you did find the nerve to come in…”

  Her shoulders slumped as finality of what her foolish actions had caused washed over her. Twisting her hands, she lowered her head. “I apologize, Master Simon.” She turned to leave when Simon gave a long rough sigh.

  “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, Myrna.”

  She nodded. “I know. Ask Amery…I mean Master Alastar… if he’ll give me a call when it’s convenient for him.” She wasn’t sure how she managed it, but she kept her voice soft and obedient as a submissive should. Evidently humility is something I need to be reminded of, but damn if it doesn’t sting. This is probably one of the worst days of my life. I should’ve stayed in bed.

  She moved to open the door when a long arm shot over her shoulder to slam it shut. “Are you that much of coward, Myrna? You give up too easily.”

  She went rigid. “I’m not a coward, Master Simon, but I am a practical woman. I realize you’re both physically stronger and much larger than me. There is little chance of my overpowering you. I’ll not be entering the club if you decide to bar me.”

  “Very astute, Mrs. Doherty. While I said I was tempted to escort you from the premises, there is one way I’ll allow you to enter today. The question is, though, are you willing to pay the price?”

  Her head pounded as the meaning of his words sank in. How far was she willing to go to make things right with Amery? As far as need be. Horror filled her before she found her voice.

  “Yes, Master Simon.”

  His expression turned thoughtful. “You aren’t even going to ask what the price is before agreeing?”

  She shook her head. “Whatever it is, it’s worth it, Master Simon.”

  With her head bowed and her back to him, the silence grew as she waited for him to speak again. Hopefully showing him that she could be submissive would help her cause.

  “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet, Myrna. Come with me.”

  She turned and let him lead her into The Sanctuary’s Lair.

  Chapter Seven

  Holding a hot mug of Irish coffee seated in the Amberboch Room, Amery watched the other members trickle in. He gave a brief nod to Master Liam, the Dom in charge of the dungeon playrooms, as behind him, his slave Marissa trailed after him. He watched as Liam sank into his chair and Marissa knelt at his feet, ready to serve her Master. His loins jumped at the thought of what would occur by the end of the meeting as the rest of the Masters settled down in their chairs. It wasn’t uncommon for the founding members to indulge in play with their submissives, once the business end of the meeting was finished. More than once the Founder’s Meeting had devolved into a BDSM voyeur’s paradise.

  The idea of having Myrna at his feet while they watched the other submissives please their Masters had been his intention all along. It wouldn’t matter if he and Myrna did nothing. He had wanted to give her a glimpse of his world and prove to her that she’d always be safe at his side, that even in the presence of overt BDSM she could trust him. But after his disastrous conversation with her, attending a Founder’s Meeting was the last thing he wanted to do. Instead, he’d been so angry he’d left the decision of whether or not she’d even be permitted to enter the club with Simon. A decision he now regretted, as he thought of her sitting in a cold car while he was warm and comfortable inside the club. I should’ve at least left her the keys, so she could turn the car on. But then again she might have abandoned me here if I had.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his keys before flagging down the server who’d just brought in a large tray heaped with food for the breakfast buffet.

  “Ryan, could you do me a favor and take these keys out to the woman sitting in my car?”

  “Of course, Master Alastar.” The young man reached for the keys when Simon appeared behind him.

  “That won’t be needed, Ryan. Please go help Greta bring in the last tray.” The young submissive froze - torn between obeying Amery and Simon.

  Amery glared at Simon before giving the young man a brief nod. “Go, do as Master Simon suggested. I’ll take care of it.” Setting his coffee down, Amery rose to his full height. He wasn’t going to argue with Simon about this. Even if she was breaking his heart, he wasn’t going to let Myrna freeze in his car – that’s if she was still waiting for him. He wouldn’t put it past her to head out on foot.

  He moved to follow Ryan from the room, when Simon grabbed his arm.”I’m not going to let her freeze out there, for God’s sakes,” he snapped.

  “I wasn’t asking you to. Come with me before you jump to conclusions, Amery. You need to see something.”

  Amery frowned. “Can’t it wait?”

  “No. I’m afraid if you make her wait much longer, she’ll loose her nerve. Not to mention she’s not that well-trained yet.”

  Wiping a hand down his suddenly tired face, Amery wondered how to get himself out of this predicament. More than likely Simon had procured a newly trained submissive to attend him during the Founder’s Meeting. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence but unlike the past, this morning he wasn’t in the mood. Suddenly he couldn’t stomach the thought of being the patient Master he was known to be with any woman other than Myrna.

  “No, I can’t. Not today, Simon. Tell her to come back Thursday night and I’ll look her over.” While he had no desire to have any other woman than Myrna as his slave, he would always be available for training purposes with newbies. He took his title as the Training Master very seriously.

  “Please, Master Alastar.” The soft request in Simon’s voice had him pausing. It’d been years since he’d heard it from the man. In fact it he hadn’t heard that tone since Simon had completed his training.

  Figuring he could always give his keys to Sanders later, he finally nodded. It was probably better that he didn’t see Myrna sitting in the car. The chances of him hoisting her over his shoulder and dragging her inside with him were high. “I need to stop by the front door first.”

  The relief in Simon’s eyes was obvious. Evidently the younger man thought he was going to have to force Amery into coming with him.

  “Thank you, Amery. I would’ve hated to have to call Sanders up here to escort you.”

  “As if!” Amery gave a tired chuckle. They both knew Sanders wouldn’t lay a hand on Amery – considering the huge man was Angelica’s slave and it was forbidden for a slave to touch a Master without permission. It was because of his mistress’s wishes that he offered his services at the door, and only Angelica could order Sanders to touch any of the Founding Members.

  After giving his keys to William
, the bouncer on duty, Amery followed Simon down the hall towards the private playrooms. He laughed when Simon offered to go get Angelica. But all humor fled Amery when they stopped in front of a closed door. He mentally prepared himself, before nodding to Simon to open the door. Lifting the key ring off his belt, Simon slid the key into the lock. Giving it a twist he stepped back to allow Amery access. Just before Amery touched the handle, Simon gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Give her a chance, Amery. It took a lot of courage for her to do this.” Then he turned and disappeared back down the hall.

  What the hell is that supposed to mean? Surely Simon didn’t leave an abused sub with me. It was policy that if an abused sub applied for sanctuary, the Dom assigned to him or her would be present during all interactions with club members. Until the Dom in question removed the red ribbons marking their abused status from the slave’s cuffs, all Doms abided by the rule. As far as he knew, there had never been any incidents of abuse with those who had claimed the Sanctuary’s Lair as their safe haven.

  Softly cursing Simon, he opened the door, and nearly swallowed his tongue. Kneeling in the middle of the playroom floor next to the St. Andrew’s cross was the last woman he’d expected to see. Behind his trousers, his cock hardened in a rush. His head spun as all blood flow became centered in his aching groin. Kneeling with her legs wide-spread, her weight resting on her heels, her hands lying palm up on her bare thighs and head bowed, was Myrna. Her long hair had been secured in a high ponytail while all she wore was a pair of leather shorts with a halter top. His breathing grew erratic as he took in her bare legs and midriff. She was all soft curves and lightly toned muscles. All Amery wanted to do was take a great big bite.

  Not trusting his voice, he turned and gave her his back. He focused on a spot just above the doorway. Dammit, I need to get control of myself. After taking a few deep breaths, he turned back around to see her duck her head. The naughty little slave had been peeking at him. This won’t do… and since she’s dressed for the part…

  “Eyes down, slave.” He didn’t wait to see if she obeyed before walking over to the large cupboard attached to the far wall. Opening it, he rummaged around inside until he found what he was looking for. Testing the bite of the clamps against his forefinger, he nodded with satisfaction.

  Closing his palm over them, he shut the door before returning to stand in front of her. “Do you give yourself to me freely, m’gnogag? Think before you answer. I was not expecting this tempting offer, but if you agree now, I’ll assume you’re interested in pursuing a Dom-sub relationship with me.”

  He watched as her tongue peaked out to moisten her lower lip. “Are you saying I didn’t have to do this, Master, to make amends?”

  A sinking feeling in his stomach accompanied her words. He had a good idea how she’d ended up in the position. Damn Simon! He used my ‘by your leave’ to force her into what I desire the most. I can’t take what isn’t being freely given.

  “Get up, Myrna.” Pocketing the clamps, he turned his back to her. “I’m taking you out of here.”

  “Master?” The uncertainty in her trembling soft voice tore at him.

  “I…think it’s best if you go home. I’ll call on you tomorrow morning for our trip to Dublin.”

  “Please, Master.” Her hand touched his arm. “Tell me what I’ve done wrong. I’m a bit rusty but I can…”

  He cut her off. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I won’t take what’s not freely given.”

  “Excuse me?” The submissive tone she’d been using had disappeared. In its place were the normal brisk tones she used often when she was aggravated with him.

  “Please tell me Simon didn’t blackmail you into that get up. That he didn’t refuse you entry unless you submitted to me.” He turned towards her. “I want your submission freely given, not coerced in any way. Until you can offer that, I can’t do this with you, no matter how much I yearn and long for you.”

  Taking her by the arm, he half-dragged her out of the private playroom. “Where did Simon put your clothing?”

  “Would you please stop for a second, Amery?” She pulled against his grip.

  He growled. “I haven’t even started.”

  “Right! And that’s the problem! Would you stop and listen to me? What does it matter how I came to be in that room, but the fact is -- I was there? I was the one who followed you into the club, I was the one who agreed to do anything to get inside, and I was the one who willingly stripped out of her street clothing, dressed in this leather getup and waited for you!”

  He sneered at her. “Like you had a choice. It was either freeze to death in my car or follow me in here.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Just go home, Myrna. I’ll have the doorman get you a cab.”

  Her nose flared before she poked him in the chest with one slender finger. He stared down at her in disbelief. She’d actually poked him! She’d touched a Dom without permission in the middle of his club – a punishing offense by any member’s standards.

  “What do I have to do to prove to your stubborn Irish arse that I’m here of my own free accord?”

  He glared down at her, the devil in him wanting to dominate the hostile woman in front of him. His normal icy control flew out the window. If she wants to push, I’ll push back. We’ll see who wins this battle of wills. “You want to prove to me you’re here right now because you want to be?” He dug into his pocket and jerked out the clamps. “Put these on, right here, right now.”

  Her eyes narrowed when she caught a glimpse of the gold clamps resting on his palm. When she flinched, he knew he had her. Of all the punishments which could be doled out, Grant had once told him, Myrna hated nipple clamps. She wouldn’t willingly place them on her tender nipples. “That’s what I thought.” He moved to close his hand when she grabbed his wrist.

  “You’re an arse, Master.” Her glare was at odds with the vulnerability deeper in her eyes, but she swiftly scooped up the clamps.

  “I never claimed not to be.” Even though he kept his voice even, his heart was pounding. Then she blew his obvious assumptions away. She wrenched up her halter top, exposed her breasts to his hungry gaze, thumbed both of her nipples into hardness, then attached first one clamp and then the other. He didn’t even see a glimpse of pain in her steady gaze when she let the clamps fall to hang off her delectable nipples.

  “Can I cover myself, Master?” Her voice, while a bit hoarse, was steady.

  “And if I told you no?”

  “Then I guess everyone will see me like this.”

  Like Hell! His jaw clenched. When did she wrestle control away from me? He wasn’t sure, but it was time to get it back. “Cover up. You’ll walk two steps behind me on my left. You’ll do everything I ask without protest. This is the beginning of our relationship, do you understand? I‘m your Master now?”

  She nodded her agreement as she fell into place. “And my safe word, Master?”

  He growled in response. He didn’t want her to have a safe word. He wanted her to belong to him unequivocally. Closing his eyes briefly, because he knew he was being irrational, he finally spoke. “Pick it, before I do.”

  “Red.”

  He nodded his agreement. “Red it is. Now come.” He moved down the hall back towards the Amberboch Room. Entering it, he flopped down in his chair, ignoring the sudden silence from the rest of the occupants. When Myrna dropped to her knees to kneel at his feet, he shifted uncomfortably.

  “Master Alastar, is everything okay?” Simon asked from the head of the table.

  He nodded briskly. “Yes! So what did I miss?”

  Amery listened as the other Doms filled him in before continuing to discuss various aspects of the club, but he was highly aware of the quiet woman kneeling in front of him. He’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted, but why did it feel so wrong? Why was he filled with an unaccustomed perception he’d been no better than Simon and forced her hand?

  * * * *

  Standing at the buffet, Myrna tried to ignore the tug of t
he clamps on her nipples as she filled a plate for her Master. When she’s gotten up this morning, this was the last thing she’d expected to be doing today. But what really surprised her was the contentment she felt taking care of Amery. Well, except for the burning need to come, she thought as she leaned forward to spoon scrambled eggs onto the plate she was holding. The weight of the clamps pressing against the leather top she was wearing was driving her crazy.

  When she’d seen the crafty look on Amery’s face earlier, she knew that he’d thought he had her cornered and she had a good idea why. That bastard husband of mine strikes again. He just had to brag to his friend how I’d beg to have the clamps removed. In hindsight she was glad that she’d never revealed to Grant why she begged for their removal, because if she had Amery would’ve had a very powerful tool to use against her. Leaving the buffet, she carried the plate and glass of orange juice the server had just filled for her back to her Master.

  Setting the plate and juice on the table in front of Amery, Myrna began to slowly lower her body into its former position. A startled squeak left her when Amery dragged her onto his lap. She moved to slip off his lap, figuring that she properly belonged on the floor.

  “Relax, slave.” His hand pressed against her bare midriff, stilling her. His breath teased her ear. “When was the last time you ate?”

  She bit her inner lip. She hadn’t eaten since the night before. “I was planning on stopping at Maureen’s for an Irish breakfast before I did my shopping.”

  A deep sigh ruffled the tendrils which had escaped her ponytail. “You say you’re a big girl and can take care of yourself, but this is twice in as many days you’ve skipped meals.” His free hand squeezed her thigh before releasing it. He picked up a slice of buttered brown Irish soda bread. When he brushed it across her lips, she moved to take it from him. He ‘tsked’ before pulling it out of her reach. “Open.”

  Gazing up at him, she studied his profile. “I can…” Her reply was cut off as he pushed a piece of the bread into her mouth.

  “Now, since it’s obvious you can’t or won’t take care of your health, as your Dom, I’ll assure myself and you there’ll be no more skipped meals, Myrna.”

 

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