Monroe, Marla - Their Reluctant Submissive [Knights in Black Leather 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Marla Monroe

  Despite the surprise visit, Kelly managed to relax and settle in to finish up the order. By the time Steve walked back to tell her he was locking up for the night, she had the matching set polished and ready to wrap for shipping. The customer had already paid and was expecting it soon. She quickly prepared it to send and cleaned up her area. She checked to be sure everything was turned off then carried the package and her purse to the front.

  “I’m going to run on over to the post office before they close and get this mailed.”

  Steve looked up from where he was running his nightly sales report off the cash register and nodded. Letting herself out the door, she used her key to relock the door and hurried toward the post office two blocks over. She made it before they shut down, and soon the package was on its way. Relieved to have it off her list of orders, Kelly headed for her car and home. Tomorrow was Saturday. They were only open half a day on Saturdays. She usually got home around two if the store was busy, earlier if it wasn’t.

  When she had moved to Perkins City, she hadn’t brought a lot of her old life with her. As she pulled up outside her apartment, it dawned on her she might not have anything appropriate to wear as a submissive now. Panic bloomed inside of her as she stepped out of the car. Then common sense took over, and she reminded herself that she didn’t belong to anyone and could wear what she wanted.

  As soon as she walked inside her apartment, the need to run to her closet and see what she had nearly overwhelmed her. She fought it back and made herself stop off in the kitchen for a Diet Coke before entering her bedroom. She looked through her clothes, and after thirty minutes of waffling between what she had available and the instinct to buy something new, Kelly resigned herself to what she had. She honestly didn’t have the funds for a new outfit right now.

  The short black skirt with the low-cut red gypsy top would have to do. She would wear fishnet stockings and a pair of black spike heels. Underwear wasn’t an option at the club, or at least it hadn’t been where she’d come from.

  After putting away the clothes so they wouldn’t get wrinkled, Kelly rushed through housework so she would have the afternoon tomorrow to get ready for the club. Preparing for a scene required quite a bit of prep work for a submissive. She would need to shower, shave all over, and apply lotion so she would be soft to the touch. Her nails would need to be filed and painted, and she needed to fix her hair.

  By a quarter of midnight, she was exhausted and ready for bed. She’d already had a shower and laid out her outfit for work the next day. As she slipped between the sheets, it occurred to her that she wasn’t dreading going to the club as much as she had expected. At first it had seemed like she was jumping back into a life she had fought hard to escape from, but now she didn’t see it that way at all. Now, she looked on it as a new adventure. Instead of worrying about losing her sense of self, Kelly planned to make Marx and Jackson proud by being the best submissive they had ever taken there. As long as she kept her head and didn’t fall into the mindset that she wasn’t allowed to make her own decisions, she could handle it. At the first indication that they expected more from her, she would safe word out and leave.

  Satisfied with her plan, Kelly let exhaustion claim her and fell asleep. Her last thought before she succumbed was that if she let herself fall in love with them, she might not be able to safe word out in the future.

  * * * *

  At a quarter to eight Saturday night, Kelly paced her living room in black spiked heels. She had prepared an overnight bag just in case and was dressed and ready for the night. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, since it would only run and make a mess when she sweated and if she cried. Since she had no idea what they had in store for her, it seemed the better decision. Nothing looked worse than a submissive after a scene with runny makeup that got all over her Dom or Master.

  The knock on her door startled her, and she nearly tripped and fell in the ridiculously high heels. She swallowed to wet her throat and wagged her sweaty hands to dry them before checking the window to be sure it was the brothers before opening the door to them.

  Marx made no excuses for looking her up and down. By the appreciation on his face, she supposed she had passed muster. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard on the lips before stepping back to give Jackson access to her. She looked up at him and was relieved to see a wide smile on his face. He sucked in her bottom lip before brushing a kiss across her lips.

  “You look eatable tonight. I can’t wait to get you to the club.” Jackson winked at her.

  “Um, I have an overnight bag if you aren’t planning on me coming back tonight.” Now that she had said it, she worried that it was being presumptuous of her.

  It was actually Marx who alleviated her fears this time. “That was a good idea. That way you aren’t wearing the same clothes when we bring you home.” He smirked at her. “Of course, you won’t be allowed to wear anything while you’re in the house, though.”

  She merely nodded and turned to grab her bag. Jackson beat her to it and picked it up. All she could do was follow him out and lock the door behind her. Marx brought up the rear. By the growling noise he made when she started walking, her skirt was flashing him little glimpses of her bare ass thanks to the short length and her high heels. That thought tugged a small smile from her. She made sure it was gone by the time they reached their truck.

  Marx was driving, so it was Jackson who helped her up in the truck. He made strangled noises when he touched her naked skin. This time, she couldn’t hide her grin, and he caught it. With a devilish flash of eyes, he leaned over and fastened her seat belt while whispering in her ear.

  “I’d wipe that smile off your face, little kitten. There are so many ways we can punish you for insolence.”

  The dark promises in his words melted her muscles and left her pussy already wet and leaking her juices. She was glad they had covered the nice leather with a towel. It would have been a shame to ruin the seats.

  “Jackson?” Marx kept his eyes on her as he spoke to his brother. “We need to put it on her before we get there.”

  “Right.” He reached into the glove box and pulled out a small box.

  Kelly wasn’t sure what to expect, but the simple black collar with several hooks on it wasn’t what she expected. She panicked. She hadn’t agreed to be collared by them. It was too soon for something so serious in their new relationship. Disappointment brewed tears in the back of her eyes. She was just about to tell them no and to let her out when Jackson spoke.

  “This is a training collar. It doesn’t symbolize anything between us other than to protect you at the club. You are under our care, and no one may touch you without our permission. We don’t assume anything from you more than you are willing to give.”

  Kelly let out a breath. Relief flooded her body to the point that she almost felt faint. Jackson watched her and lifted an eyebrow as if asking if he could fasten it on her. She nodded and lifted her hair. Once he had it settled against her neck, tight enough that it wouldn’t hang but loose enough not to rub or restrict her airway in any way, Jackson placed a kiss on her nose and winked at her. He had caught her fear but wasn’t going to mention it.

  “Did you shave your pussy for us, kitten?” Marx started the truck and backed out of the parking space.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Show me.”

  Kelly didn’t hesitate. Instead, she spread her legs and pulled up her skirt for them to see her bare folds already glistening with her cream. She started to close her eyes to take her away from the newly resurrected feeling of exposure. A sharp slap to her thigh let her know that Marx wouldn’t put up with that. Her eyes flashed open again, and she looked straight ahead.

  “I want to see your eyes open all the time. I can’t decide what you might need if I don’t know how you are feeling at the moment.”

  She could feel Jackson’s eyes on her as she fought back the need to hide from them. The more they knew of her, the more they might want, and she didn’t want
them to ask her for too much. She wanted them as her men.

  Marx was right, though. He would need to know what she was feeling and how she was reacting to ensure that she was okay with what was going on and he didn’t need to stop or slow down. The Dom had to always be in control of the scene to keep everyone safe and make sure that everyone’s needs were met. Though she ultimately held the power, the Dom held the majority of the responsibility. She guessed with two Doms sharing that responsibility it would be easier to control the scene.

  Jackson’s hand rested lightly on her upper thigh with his pinkie finger frustratingly close to her pussy. He swiped it back and forth over her sensitive skin. At this rate, by the time they got to the club, she would be a basket case of need. It had been a long time since she’d had to discipline herself like this.

  “There will be some paperwork to fill out and sign when we first get there, Kelly. I’m sure you’re familiar with the need for confidentiality and strict rules of play.” Jackson’s breath tickled her ear as he spoke to her.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll follow the rules and keep what I see to myself.”

  “The house safe word is red for stop and yellow for slow down. You can use green if we ask you how you’re doing or just tell us how you’re doing.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They pulled into the club’s parking lot, but this time they parked in the front lot under a light. Jackson reached across her and unfastened her safety belt. Then he opened the door and after stepping down, turned and helped her out as well. He made sure she was balanced before letting go of her arm and closing the door. She walked between the two men with Marx’s hand at the small of her back and Jackson’s clasped with hers.

  When they reached the door to the building, Marx knocked, and the door was opened by someone that looked as if he lifted weights for a living. He wasn’t quite as tall as her men, but he was more muscular and every bit as commanding. He smiled at them.

  “Hey, Marx, Jackson. I see you have a visitor with you tonight. Jessica will take care of the paperwork for you.”

  “Thanks, Bo.” Jackson shook the other man’s hand as Marx ushered her further into the room.

  “Hello, Marx. Do you need a packet for your guest?” Jessica’s warm smile rested on Kelly and not Marx or Jackson when he walked up.

  “Yes. We’ll take it into the bar where the tables are and fill it out. One of us will bring it right back to you.” Marx accepted the folder from the woman.

  Kelly had already been inside of Golden Shackles, but without all the excess tents around the perimeter of the building, it appeared much larger, and there were a lot more stations to play on. She allowed the men to lead her to a table with two chairs. She started to kneel since it was unusual for a submissive to sit on a chair at a club, but Jackson stopped her.

  “You’re going to sit on my lap while we fill out and read your paperwork.”

  Kelly sat on his lap, and after he adjusted her to his satisfaction, Marx opened the folder in front of her and handed her a pen.

  “You’ll need to read and initial several areas on the rules pages then fill out the demographic sheet and sign the confidentiality agreement.”

  She started with the rules and found them to be similar to the rules from the last club she had attended in Dallas. She initialed at the spot talking about safe words and the one about interrupting scenes then signed the bottom of the form. She moved on to the confidentiality statement next and was pleased to see that they only allowed photographs on certain nights and you had to get permission forms for them. She was not allowed to take anyone’s picture other than the people she was playing with. After signing that form, she filled out the demographic page and signed it.

  “Finished?” Jackson had been talking with Marx while she read.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you have any questions over the club rules?” Marx asked.

  “No, sir. I understand them.”

  Marx nodded and gathered up her forms to return them to Jessica. Once he returned, Jackson helped her to her feet. She immediately knelt on the hard floor. Marx jumped back up.

  “Stand up, Kelly.” He walked off without saying another word.

  She kept her gaze on the ground, but wasn’t sure what she had done wrong. When he returned and dropped a soft-looking red pillow at her feet she understood. He hadn’t wanted her on the bare floor. It made her feel special that he thought of her comfort. She wouldn’t have expected that of him, Jackson, maybe, but not of Marx.

  She dropped to her knees and assumed a relaxed position with her knees spread wide and her hands resting palms up on her thighs. She wasn’t sure if she should be in a kneel-up stance or back on her heels. She chose to rest on her heels until they told her otherwise. She had no idea what they had in store for her, so she would opt for comfort when possible.

  She kept her eyes focused on a spot several feet in front of her and listened to the sounds around her. She heard her name and snapped back to pay attention to her Doms.

  “Kelly? Did you hear me?” Jackson’s amused voice finally reached her ears.

  “No, sir. I’m sorry.”

  “We want to talk to you about what we expect while we are here.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m listening.”

  Marx slid his hands through her hair and pulled her head back so that she had to look into his eyes. “Look at us while we talk about this. We need to see that you truly understand what we are saying right now, understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” She didn’t drop her gaze when he released her hair.

  “When we are at the club, you will address us as Sir Marx and Sir Jackson. You do not talk to anyone unless we give you permission. You do not look any other Dom in the face. It is impolite.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jackson continued. “You will walk between us at all times unless there is just one of us with you, and you will walk in front then. When we stop to talk, you kneel and assume the position you were just in. When we are sitting talking to others, you will kneel in the same position unless we place you in a different way.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We abide by the club safe words when we are here, but at home, it is merely stop. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I need to know if you have any hard limits before we get started.” Marx looked directly in her eyes.

  “Um, knife play, scat play, golden showers, asphyxiation, or choking. I–I can’t think, but I’m sure there are others.”

  Marx made a noise in his throat. “None of that appeals to us in the least. I don’t think anything else you have as a hard limit will be something we would enjoy either. What about impact play? Do you have any implements you do not agree to?”

  “Oh, I’ve only experienced different types of floggers, paddles, and crops. They are all fine. I am willing to try any of the other common implements you are fond of once, sir.”

  Marx’s eyes brightened with anticipation. It was the only way she could describe it. She quickly glanced over at Jackson and saw something more like amazement on his face. Had she offered more than she should have? She prayed she wouldn’t regret her words.

  “I can hardly wait to get you on the cross.” Marx stood up and held out his hand.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kelly walked between the two men as they circled around the room talking to friends of theirs. If they stopped for more than a casual greeting, she knelt at their feet and kept her gaze on the floor. Several times she was introduced to other subs and always smiled and greeted them when this happened. They slowly made their way to the hall where the various theme rooms were located. She half expected Marx to lead her to the dungeon, but he bypassed the hall and continued until they reached the St. Andrew’s cross in the far corner.

  Jackson leaned in and whispered in her ear. “The dungeon is mostly used for edge play, and Marx doesn’t like the atmosphere. We’ll use the cross out here even though it is more open.”

  She
nodded and started to kneel since they had stopped for several seconds. Marx stopped her.

  “Stand for now, kitten. I don’t want your circulation compromised before we strap you on the cross. It will be a few minutes while they clean it from the last session.”

  “Yes, sir.” She stood there with her hands behind her back looking down.

  “Sir T? May I talk with Kelly?” Dixie’s clear voice as she spoke to her Dom for the night alerted her that they had company.

  “If her Doms will allow her to speak with you.”

  Kelly turned to Jackson. “Sir Jackson, may I have permission to speak with Dixie?”

  “Yes, you may. Remain standing.”

  Kelly turned and looked at Dixie. She was darling in her harem girl’s outfit complete with veil. Her slacks had the same slits up and down the legs to permit the flash of naked thigh as she walked.

  “Permission to remain standing, sub.” Sir T let go of the other woman’s waist and turned to talk with Jackson and Marx.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here! I’m so excited.”

  “I’m glad to see someone I know. How long have you been with Master T?”

  “Oh, we just hook up for scenes now and then. I’m not collared by anyone right now.” She frowned then shrugged. “Are you just playing with them or are you thinking about being their sub long-term?”

  “I’m not sure right now.” She glanced over toward the men to be sure they weren’t paying attention to them. “I’m still not sure I want back into the lifestyle yet.”

  “I can’t imagine not playing at least a little from time to time. I’d miss it badly if I stopped.”