by Lena Austin
Behind their backs, BW’s lips twitched and she winked. The witch. She knew they’d react like that. She’d pay later. She cleared her throat, and got their attention back.
Devon was shaking with laughter. “That’s telling them, Master Calder. You let me handle their little evils,” he whispered. His bright brown eyes twinkled.
When Sadie was wearing a wax breastplate that nearly covered her from neck to the top of her thong, BW put the candle away.
Now BW pulled the rolling cart forward with the tray on top that held the knives. Sadie’s eyes opened at the first rattle. Even slightly unfocused, her eyes held the sharp spurt of fear, and her breath rate increased.
Calder couldn’t help the protective instinct that rose in him. Only BW’s sharp flicker of a glance reined him in.
“Now, ladies, please note that this knife is a standard kitchen knife.” She held up a normal chef’s knife so everyone could see. “Sadie is familiar with this knife, and it is the twin to the one she uses every day. But her fear of knives is known.”
Calder, forewarned by Sadie, knew BW would merely scrape away the layer of wax from Sadie’s prepared skin. But there was a moment when he did wonder if Sadie would be cut before logic took over. If BW weren’t an expert, she wouldn’t be teaching. He forced himself to stillness.
“How long has Sadie been taking these wax scenes?” he muttered to Devon.
BW’s lecture had given him a vital clue. Sadie was afraid of knives. Therefore, this was a form of aversion therapy. His psych training took over.
Devon leaned close again. “Only a couple of months. She’s learning to love it. It’s sort of like a roller coaster ride. You’re scared silly, but you get addicted.” His smiled turned sensual. “And she loves the reward at the end.” He paused. “So do I.”
Fascinated, he watched BW scrape away the wax, using evermore sharp and dangerous looking blades. The scrapings were frugally put into a bowl, presumably for reuse.
Sadie’s “fight or flight” reflexes took over. Her swarthy skin turned white as her body sent blood to vital organs, and the pupils in her whiskey-brown eyes dilated. The rush of adrenaline must have been incredible, Calder thought clinically.
When every last bit of wax was gone, Calder could barely keep himself from at least going to hold Sadie’s hand, which was clenched so tightly in its restraints, it was a wonder her nails weren’t cutting into her palms.
Devon laid a restraining hand on Calder’s arm, imploring him to be still. “Stop fidgeting. Everything is fine. You’ll see.” Devon cocked his head, listening to BW wrapping up the lecture as she cleaned up the remains of the powder and wax from Sadie’s trembling body. “When they leave, go with the Mistress. Try to remain unobtrusive.”
Calder would have asked more questions, but BW ushered her students out the door and jerked her head at Calder. Then she looked at Devon and nodded. Calder followed the students out, and BW shut the door, leaving Devon and Sadie inside.
The ladies trooped back upstairs, chattering like magpies. BW, ever the gracious hostess, offered everyone refreshments and followed. Calder put his foot on the bottom stair just as happy shrieks began to ring out from behind the closed door. When Calder hesitated, BW turned and winked. Crooking her finger, she whispered, “Let them enjoy themselves in peace. They’ll be up soon.”
Calder glanced back once before nodding. No wonder Devon said he enjoyed this.
* * *
Calder was beginning to wonder if he’d fly into a million pieces in his desire to ask Kelly all the questions beating on the inside of his skull. The students had finally been ushered out the front door. Calder was so grateful he could have cried. The questions and heated looks from the students had reached ridiculous levels.
One horny little blonde had made her fantasies perfectly clear. She’d rubbed his bicep and whispered, “I’d love to borrow you from BW for the weekend.” Calder had simply pointed to his unencumbered neck and she’d walked away pouting. Maybe it would be funny, someday.
Devon and Sadie had reappeared, and served drinks and canapés. Now they took the depleted trays back to the kitchen, leaving Calder and BW alone.
BW dropped the persona of the Dominatrix and flopped down into an overstuffed armchair with a “whew!” She wrinkled her nose at Calder. “You looked great!”
Calder relaxed slightly. “I’m not used to being eye candy.”
Kelly chuckled. “You’d look good in a potato sack and no help for it. I noticed Linda trying to get her mitts on you. Good thing you handled it.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’d hate to have to kill her.”
Calder laughed at that small sign of jealousy. He walked over and leaned down to kiss Kelly. “She never had a chance, beautiful.”
Devon walked quickly into the room. “Limo just pulled up.” He pulled at his abbreviated briefs and adjusted his collar.
Kelly nodded her approval, and he ran for the front door. She stood and whispered urgently to Calder. “Be silent, and be still. This is the hardcore tonight.”
Calder reached out and grabbed her hand. He kissed her knuckles in the courtliest gesture he knew. “I’ll be waiting for the return of Kelly.” He wanted to say more, but he heard Devon greeting the client, so he returned to the wall and stood at parade rest.
Kelly stayed right where he left her, and he would have sworn he saw the sparkle of tears before Black Widow was back. Her chin went up. Devon brought the client for introductions, and then they all silently went downstairs.
Devon took the client into the room where the big wooden X, a St. Andrew’s cross, was. Calder remembered the room. He now understood more of what that room was for: Pain. It was the largest room, save for the “throne room,” with high ceilings and open floor space. Calder steeled himself. He’d seen this before, in Brad’s dungeon. This was nothing new, he told himself.
Kelly waited a few minutes until Devon reopened the door, then walked languidly into the pain room. The man, who’d introduced himself as Earnest, was already naked and cuffed to the cross.
Calder stationed himself beside the door, and so did Devon.
BW’s voice was cruel when she asked, “Have you been bad, Earnest?” Out of Earnest’s line of sight, she was picking up the horsehair flogger.
Over Earnest’s whimper of, “Yes, Mistress! Please punish me!” Calder leaned toward Devon.
“Isn’t she going to spray his back?” Calder whispered, and then winced as the horsehair lashed out on the middle-aged man’s back.
“Already done,” Devon whispered back. “By me. Right after I cuffed him in. His preferences were sent by email from his usual Mistress a week ago. Standard beating. Nothing special.” Devon shrugged with an indifference Calder couldn’t hope to match. “Oh, and by the way, Earnest is not his real name. He specified the use of a pseudonym. Can’t blame him. He doesn’t know us well enough for that.”
Calder watched, and kept his face as impassive as possible while Earnest’s back bloomed a rosy pink from the attention of the horsehair. Having felt the flogger, he knew what BW was doing didn’t hurt, and was just a warm-up.
That is, until the last lash. Calder jerked and winced as the flogger sang out with one of the stinging blows.
Earnest just gasped. “Thank you, Mistress!”
BW, not yet sweating or breathing hard, picked up a leather flogger. Calder gave himself a pat on the back for knowing the terms now. She marched up and checked Earnest’s back. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, she showed Earnest her flogger. “Your mistress tells me how naughty you’ve been, Earnest.”
Earnest nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mistress! I have been! Punish me as you see fit.” He was looking at the flogger with what Calder could only describe as lust.
“Very well,” she replied coldly. BW stepped back a few paces out of reach of the man’s back, and began to swing the flogger in the figure eight pattern he’d seen her use the first night. Then she walked forward until the flogger’s strips fell on the man’s bac
k flatly.
Earnest was soon writhing, but in a pattern, like a slow dance to music only he could hear. Still, there was no blood, no strips of flesh hanging.
Without warning, BW stopped and barked, “Give me a color, Earnest!”
“Green, Mistress! Green!” the man whimpered.
“Color?” Calder murmured to Devon. The beating recommenced with what looked like a dowel from the hardware store.
“Standard stoplight system,” Devon whispered back. “Green means continue, yellow means I’m done, red means stop and end all playing now.”
Calder berated himself for not remembering what he’d read in his research. “And the dowel?” He didn’t remember a dowel.
“Deep bruising effect. Earnest will leave here with barely a mark on him, but by the time he flies home to his regular Mistress, he’ll have a lovely set of bruises to show her that he was properly beaten.” Devon sighed, longingly. “He’ll have bragging rights among other subs for a good week or two with the pattern the Mistress is using.”
BW again demanded a color. She was now sweating, but not breathing heavily. In fact, she looked no more mussed than if she had taken a brisk walk.
Earnest writhed a moment longer, then, his voice slurred, he answered, “Green.” Another moment of mindless movement. “Finish me, please. I beg it.”
“Very well!” She picked up a short bullwhip.
Calder shut his eyes, but heard the crack.
A grunt.
Another stroke of the whip hissed.
A gasping moan.
Calder felt a comforting pat on his arm, and knew it was Devon. He ventured to open one eye. As another strike caused Earnest to moan louder, Calder shuddered. Then the thought hit Calder with the same force as the whip hit Earnest. Kelly’s voice saying, “All Dommes must learn to feel what their subs do.”
He jerked upright. Some whip had touched Kelly’s skin. Someone had done this to her. His eyes flew open wide with irrational urge to go kill that long ago Dominant.
The whip sang once more while Calder’s imagination went wild, imagining it chewing into her soft, smooth skin.
The skin wrapped around the woman he loved.
Nothing in BW’s arsenal could have hit him harder. He was in love with the woman wielding that whip.
The shrill scream of “Yellow!” rang out, yanking Calder back to reality. Earnest was done.
* * *
Calder leaned back in his chair and winced. “Ruben, will you please calm down and stop making my ears ring? I can’t understand a word you’re saying, for Chrissake.”
He slugged another mouthful of the blackest coffee he could make and tried not to choke on the bitterness. The gourmet brew Kelly chugged had spoiled him.
“Okay, okay! I’ll go slow. Sorry. I liked your proposal and the sample chapter you sent in, and got the usual power lunch with Eddie and Theresa,” Ruben repeated.
The names meant nothing to Calder, but that wasn’t unusual. Ruben was constantly forgetting that Calder never could keep straight what editor worked for what publishing house. “And?” He sipped again.
“You’re on the auction block, buddy boy, that’s what! Alpha Books and Pantheon Publishing are now in a bidding war for your book on BDSM!”
The coffee made an impressive spatter on his monitor. Calder ran for paper towels to clean up and blessed technology for a cell he could remove from danger and keep talking via speaker. “How much?”
Ruben named a figure that had Calder tripping over his own feet. “Now, don’t get excited, Calder. The bidding has just started, and you’re an unknown,” Ruben cautioned.
Calder’s hands shook as he used a special chamois to clean his monitor. “Hey, I’m happy right now.”
“Yeah, well, keep your shirt on. This may take a week or more. I gotta ask you about terms. What are you willing to give up to get the higher numbers, how fast can you churn this puppy out, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Explain it to me slowly in small words a cop can understand.” Calder wiped his forehead with the same towels he’d just cleaned the monitor with.
By the time Ruben hung up, Calder had a headache and a grin that threatened to split his face in two. He started to dial the phone to tell Kelly when it dawned on him he couldn’t. There was no one he could call. Brad was already eating antacids like candy, now that Calder and Kelly had been together over two weeks.
Calder walked over to his desk. In prominent view was a small, careworn burgundy velvet box. He opened it and looked at the tiny solitaire diamond his mother had worn right up until the day of her death. The two matching wedding bands lay in his jewelry box.
He closed the box with a snap and put it by his keys. It was time to come clean with Kelly and ask her if she’d accept the ring. He turned and marched to the shower.
* * *
“Mistress, your tail is on fire!” Sadie exclaimed.
Kelly peeked from behind the living room curtains to see Sadie, dust rag in hand, shaking her finger.
Pouting, Kelly emerged from the curtains. “Aw, c’mon Sadie! I was just peeking to see if Calder was here yet.”
“Worse than a ten-year-old on her birthday! Girlfriend, that man’s dick ain’t that much better than any other’s.” Sadie shook her head, grinning.
Rolling her eyes, Kelly gave a roguish smile. “It’s not the size of the boat…”
“It’s the motion in the ocean. Yeah, I know. It’s only been a week since Master Calder was last here. You’re acting like you’re starved.” Sadie sucked in her cheeks to imitate hunger, and made her brown eyes huge and pitiful.
“Oh, but I am starved. That’s the point. It’s been a whole week since Calder kissed me at the door and said he had to go to work.” Kelly sighed and peeped out the curtains again. “In the meantime, I’ve had to deal with being Black Widow all week, or going to the hospice. I want to be touched, made love to, and treated like just another woman.”
“Least he comes around on weekends. And how many hours are you spending on the phone with one another?” Sadie asked indulgently.
Kelly colored as if she were the schoolgirl Sadie accused her of acting like. “Okay, you got me. At least an hour every night.”
Sadie snickered. “And that doesn’t include the fistful of posies he left on the doorstep Wednesday morning.”
Kelly’s blush heated up until she felt like she’d acquired a fever. The note had said he’d been out walking and couldn’t resist a street vendor. The cheap bundle of daisies and carnations meant more to her than a dozen of the finest roses.
Sadie laughed and gave her Mistress a hug. “I’ll stop teasing you now.” Her eyes lifted and looked out the window. “Especially since Master Calder just pulled up. Go put a cold cloth on your cheeks.”
Kelly fled to the powder room in the foyer and listened while Sadie greeted Calder at the door. As she pressed a cool, wet washcloth to her face, she muttered to the woman in the mirror, “Okay, so you’ve been lonely. And you’re hornier than a three-peckered billy goat. And Calder is everything you like.” The blushing woman in the mirror looked back at her mockingly. “Okay, okay, I’m in love. I’ll deal. I always have.”
The image in the mirror quirked a half-smile.
Kelly put down the cloth. “But first, I’m going to go get laid. And I’m opening the final door. If he walks through on his own, he’s mine.”
She heard Calder ask, “Where’s Kelly?”
That was her cue. She came barreling out the door and jumped into his arms. “Hiya, gorgeous!”
Calder kissed her as thoroughly as she desired, their tongues battling for supremacy, before he released her mouth. “I keep telling you, that’s my line.”
“And I’ll keep ignoring it. You’re a hunk, and it’s time you admitted it.” Kelly wriggled seductively and laid a hand on his crotch. “Don’t make me lead you upstairs on the only leash I can get my hands on right now.” For emphasis she gave a gentle squeeze.
“Si
nce the phrase that ends with ‘and their hearts and minds will follow’ applies here, lead the way.” Calder put her down and patted her denim-clad butt. “But I do want to talk later,” he added.
“Oh, you look so serious. We’ll talk later. I’ve missed you.” She gave one last caress before turning to go up the stairs first.
Calder chuckled. “Since I’m a firm believer in the old ‘life’s short, eat dessert first’ adage, I’m willing.” He wiggled his eyebrows when she turned to grin at him, giving Kelly the clear impression she was “dessert.”
Feeling suddenly playful, she stuck her tongue out at him and raced up the stairs. “Then you have to catch your dessert!”
God, this was fun. Denny had never chased her around the house, but Calder pounded up the stairs as fast as his bum knee would allow, laughing. “Not fair, wench!” he yelled as she disappeared around a corner. “I’ve never been up here!”
Kelly peeped out from her bedroom door just as he rounded the corner, stuck her tongue out again, and ducked back. This was it. Her secret self was about to be revealed.
Calder ran into the room and skidded to a halt. “Whoa!” he exclaimed.
Kelly knew what he’d expected. Those few who saw her private sanctum often were expecting elegant, but slightly macabre, decorating. Instead, they saw a tribute to innocent fun.
Unlike the others, who always made a beeline for the poster of Mighty Mouse above her bed, Calder went straight for a movie poster of the Keystone Kops. He stared for a few moments, grinning, then looked down at the small table just below. Her memorial to her father contained a picture of him in his police uniform, sitting astride his motorcycle, and his posthumous medal for bravery. He touched the frame of the medal reverently, then turned to Kelly. “Your dad was a cop?” He had a funny look on his face.
“Yes, in Columbus, Georgia. It’s where I grew up.”
