Her room was comfortably furnished with a sitting area as well as a small private patio, but the focal point was a big four-poster bed made of rustic beams. When Prue looked closely she could see iron rings on each post that appeared decorative, but which she was willing to bet were also fully functional. It seemed to her that the rooms at Cuero came ready to use. She thought for the first time of the series of workshops she’d signed up to take, wondering what kind of Dom the club had paired her with.
She was drawn out of her musings by a tinkling feminine laugh, and she turned to see a small blonde woman slap Cruz playfully on the arm. She turned her warm smile on Prue, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
“I swear, it’s impossible to find good help nowadays.” The woman spoke in a prim tone of voice, but her twinkling eyes betrayed her.
Cruz reached out and swatted the woman on her bottom. “Careful, Lulu, or you’ll find it difficult to sit for the next few days.”
Lulu gasped comically before raising a dramatic hand to her forehead. “Cruz, not in front of the guests!”
Cruz laughed, shaking his head and turning to Prue. “Don’t spend too much time with this one. She’s a brat.” With that, he turned to go, turning once more before leaving the room. “Welcome, Prue. I hope your time with us is pleasurable.” He smiled and sauntered out.
Lulu was still chuckling as she held out her hand to Prue. “Hi, Prue. You’ll have to excuse my antics. I might be a sub here, but I see no reason to let the Doms have all the fun.”
Prue took an instant liking to the woman, feeling the same twinge she’d felt when she’d met Cruz. How could these people be involved in something as awful as human trafficking?
She shook off her fears, extending her hand and shaking Lulu’s. “I’m very happy to be here. I couldn’t believe when I got the invitation to come teach dance, especially because I was already signed up to take the course!”
Lulu’s smile grew wider. “Callie told all of us how awesome your dance class was in Boston. We bugged the Doms until they agreed to let you come!”
Prue laughed. “Well, I’ll take that. Although if I have a whole herd of pissy Doms after me, I’m blaming you!”
Lulu laughed. “No worries, once you show us a few moves to keep them happy, they’ll act like it was their idea in the first place.” Lulu’s eyes brightened. “Hey, did Cruz show you around on your way to your room?”
Prue shook her head. “Only a little, but what I saw was amazing. This place is gorgeous!”
Lulu nodded enthusiastically. “You’re not kidding.”
Prue was surprised to see Lulu checking her watch. “Oh, if I’m keeping you from something please feel free to go! I can explore a little on my own.”
Lulu’s smile was full of wickedness. “Nah, there’s a spectacle in about fifteen minutes you should really see. How about I take you down to the dance studio you’ll be using to teach your classes, then we’ll head to the dungeon.”
Prue was confused. “The dungeon? Shouldn’t we be escorted or anything?”
Lulu sniffed primly. “I can be untouchable when I want to, and right now you’re my guest.” She checked her watch again. “Come on. Let’s head to the dance studio. I’ll explain on the way.”
* * * *
“Wow.” Prue turned around slowly, taking in the dance studio Lulu had opened up to show her. “Double wow.”
Lulu was clearly smug about the beautiful facility, and with good reason. “I take it this will do for your classes?”
Prue turned around again, her eyes lighting on the barre, wall-to-wall mirrors, and gleaming hardwood floors. Light from several beautiful stained-glass windows poured in, bathing the room in a warm glow. She also took in the carefully placed poles and ropes with satisfaction. “This is beautiful. You must have someone here who dances a lot to have a studio like this.”
Lulu nodded vigorously before checking her watch again. “Actually, that would be our owner, Cyrus.” She turned a naughty gaze up to meet Prue’s quizzical look. “He’s like the King Dom here, but he got his start as a stripper.”
Prue felt her mouth fall open. “Really?” Now she was even more curious to meet the owner. Not only did he have the most interesting taste, but his background was certainly one Prue could relate to.
Lulu giggled. “Absolutely. He still dances a lot, because he still puts on shows. In fact, that’s where we’re heading next. He’s due to dance in about five minutes. Come on. We don’t want to be late!”
Prue felt totally caught up in Lulu’s excitement as the petite blonde grabbed her hand and tugged her from the studio, practically running down the hallway. Prue laughed as she kept up, wondering about this Cyrus.
She didn’t have long to wonder as Lulu led her to a pair of dark, heavy doors decorated with intricate designs in hammered iron. Obviously original to the building, Prue couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of room used to lie beyond the door, but as Lulu tugged one of the great doors backward, Prue felt her jaw fall almost to the floor. If she thought she’d been surprised at the rest of Cuero, nothing prepared her for its dungeon. She looked around, not sure what to look at first. Easily the most interesting BDSM club she’d ever been in, the place looked like a combination of art gallery, Spanish palacio, and chic lounge. But this room was clearly built for decadence, and the implements of pleasure, torture, and all sorts of naughty fun were visible in every nook and cranny.
It’s a chapel.
The thought hit Prue as she looked up and saw the vaulted ceiling, the white-washed walls a stark contrast with the dark beams up above. The realization of the room’s former use became clearer and clearer as Prue looked around, and she could feel her eyes getting enormous. She’d never seen such a wicked space.
The room itself was enormous. The doors through which they’d entered led to what had obviously been the main part of the chapel, although the space had now been altered drastically. What would have been the altar was now a wide black stage with a pole on each side, and there were several thick ropes hanging down in the center of the stage. The stage tapered to a long runway that extended down what would once have been the center aisle of the chapel. Right at the back, in the very middle of the stage was a large St. Andrew’s Cross, and Prue could see the chains and cuffs dangling from its corners.
Prue noticed that some of the original features of the chapel had been kept intact. Several church pews were situated along the walls, and she noticed a couple of confessionals along the walls. She was dying to know what they were currently used for.
The room was dotted here and there with smaller raised stages, and there were all sorts of racks of implements lining the walls. Prue could see a doorway in each corner of the room as well as two doorways on either side of the main stage, and she wondered where they led. She could feel some very pleasant tingles down low in her stomach, and she looked forward to spending time in this room.
Right now, however, there was an air of excitement as women thronged to the main stage, standing or sitting along the runway. The lights in the room dimmed slightly and at the same time a pair of very realistic electric candles came to flickering life on the main stage.
“Oh, pooh.” Lulu pouted, crossing her arms in front of her. “I hoped we’d be able to get closer, but with all the new arrivals for the next set of courses, it’s packed in here.”
Prue didn’t know what to say. “Um, can we get closer next time?”
Lulu grinned at her. “Absolutely. Next time you’re going to have a front-row seat.”
Before Prue could ask her what she meant, an enormous man walked to the center of the stage. Dressed in black leather pants and a matching vest, his olive skin and jet-black hair betrayed his Spanish roots. His chocolate eyes were slumberous as he scanned the crowd, and a mischievous smile played across his full mouth. Tendrils of curly hair escaped from his long queue to curl around his chiseled face, and Prue could practically feel her panties moisten. That man had to be at least six and a
half feet tall, with a body built to control a woman’s pleasure.
“Holy shit.” Prue didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until she heard Lulu laugh beside her.
“Don’t fall in love, Prue. That’s Alejandro, our Dom in charge. He’s Cyrus’s right hand man, and he’s taken.”
Prue grinned ruefully at Lulu. “Damn.”
Lulu smiled back. “Actually, you’ve met his sub. Callie’s the one who took your dance class, right?”
Prue looked back at the enormous man, thinking of tall, lithe Callie with her long blonde hair and sweet disposition. “She sure is. Man, they make a gorgeous couple.”
Lulu grabbed Prue’s hand and squeezed. “She’ll be thrilled to hear you say that. And never mind about Alejandro. We have plenty of single Doms around here who would sell a kidney to work with someone with legs like yours.”
Prue blushed, but before she could make a retort, Alejandro spoke into the microphone.
“Good evening, ladies. Welcome to Cuero. We are always happy to see new faces here, and are just as happy to greet old friends. I would especially like to welcome our new subs and Dommes who are here for the courses being offered. Please, make yourselves at home. And as a proper beginning to our festivities, please welcome our own Cyrus King, or as we call him, King Cyrus to the stage. Your Majesty.”
With that, Alejandro bowed before walking off the stage, taking the microphone with him.
Prue was surprised as the women in the crowd pressed even closer to the stage. How good was this guy? She turned to comment on it to Lulu, but Lulu seemed to anticipate her.
“See how the girls are all getting closer to the stage?”
Prue nodded. “I wondered about that.”
Lulu pointed to a group of women who actually seemed ready to start scrapping for who got to stand closest. “Even the Dommes fight for space, and this is one time the subs aren’t about to be cowed.”
Prue laughed. “What, does Cyrus throw Louboutins into the audience while he dances?”
Lulu laughed with her. “I wish. No, they all fight for space because Cyrus ends his act by dominating a woman on stage, and even some of the Dommes are willing to submit for the honor. I’ve heard he’s very, very good at what he does.”
Prue felt her interest spark anew. She’d never heard of a Dom doing this kind of act before, and she was even more curious about Cyrus. Luckily, she didn’t have long to wait to appease her curiosity, because before she could continue her conversation with Lulu, a man wearing black leather pants and a hoodie walked slowly onto the stage from one of the doors behind it. His hood was drawn, but even so Prue felt the sheer masculinity emanating from him in waves. There were gasps from the women watching as he sauntered to the center of the stage before turning to face the audience, and Prue couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. She chided herself. He hasn’t even started dancing and I’m already practically drooling.
A hard tempo filled the room, and Prue watched as the man swaggered—it could only be called a swagger—partway down the runway before stopping again. He rocked his hips a little, eliciting screams from the women. He sauntered back toward the main stage, and Prue felt herself holding her breath as he raised his hands and removed his hood, showing off a dark ponytail.
The music picked up just as Prue felt a frisson of shock race through her. Her brain fought not to accept what her eyes told her was true, and she felt her mouth fall open as Cyrus turned to face the crowd, now dancing in earnest to the driving beat, rolling his hips and running his hands suggestively over his thighs.
Prue steadied herself, preparing to watch Cyrus strip. She felt a thrill of recognition run through her body even as her sluggish brain was slow to catch on, and she locked her eyes on the sexy Dom. Cyrus was none other than Mr. Gorgeous, and Prue was about to watch him take his clothes off.
Chapter 5
Cyrus lost himself in the dance like he always did. He tuned out the screams from his audience, instead preferring to focus on the rhythm of the music, and he pushed his muscles to obey his commands. It was sometimes hard to remember to include the things that drove the women who watched crazy, but he remembered to thrust a little as he danced, undulating and grinding down to the stage before rising back up again to the cacophony of shrieks.
He stilled for a moment as he lifted the hem of the hoodie teasingly, making the women nuts, before lowering it back down and turning to face the back of the room. He squatted down, rocking his hips, as he tugged the hoodie over his head in one fluid motion, throwing it to the side of the stage. He spun back around to face the front of the dungeon, dancing aggressively down the runway now that he was wearing only his leathers and a white muscle shirt. He threw in a few break moves, going down to his knees and flipping himself over before standing tall again.
Okay, so far so good. Cyrus scanned the room as he danced, tangling his hands in the neckline of the muscle shirt as he looked for a woman to dominate. He’d been growing increasingly restless, and he had more and more trouble finding a woman he wanted to pull up on stage with him. He’d been feeling that way for a couple of weeks, and he refused to consider that it could be because of a gorgeous brunette with legs for days.
As he danced, he glanced at each woman lining the runway and just as quickly dismissed her. It was funny to look at the crowd and separate the subs from the Dommes. The subs weren’t at all shy about showing their enjoyment of his act, many of them jumping up and down and squealing, big smiles on their faces and no inhibitions. The Dommes all stood more or less still, arms folded and trying to squash their excitement. Cyrus occasionally picked a Domme to dominate on stage, liking the challenge, but he honestly preferred the subs. They were so delighted to have been picked, and he always loved the sweet trust they showed when he bound them and took control. He usually took the sub to his suite for the night to really make sure she felt safe and happy after he’d put her on display for everyone to see.
Cyrus pegged a cute little woman in the crowd, and he could tell that she was a natural sub. He saw that the other, more aggressive women were jockeying closer to the stage, and the little woman was getting pushed further and further back. She watched him dance with wide-eyed wonder, and Cyrus could see where she twirled a strand of her light-brown hair nervously between her fingers. Responding to the sheen of doubt in her eyes, he warmed to her and his decision was made.
That taken care of, Cyrus focused once more on the dance, knotting his hands tighter in the neckline of the muscle shirt he wore and jerking them apart so that the fabric of the shirt split from neckline to hem. I should really own stock in these things.
He tossed the ruined shirt away to join his hoodie, striving to hear the music over the din of screams. He passed his hands slowly over his abdomen down to where his whip rode low on his hips, never missing a step, and hooked his hands in the waistband of his leathers where they rode even lower. He swaggered down the runway, leaving one hand on his waistband while with the other hand he grabbed the handle of his whip, snapping it loose with one tug. He cracked the whip in the air, the satisfying sound it made accompanied by feminine gasps. Cyrus could feel the tension in the room rise, and he knew the women were riveted on the single tail he held.
He flicked the whip up over his shoulder, holding onto the handle and looping it diagonally over his torso from shoulder to hip. He let go of the handle and danced, confident that the whip would stay put.
“Yeah, Your Majesty!”
Cyrus heard the yell even above the other noise in the room and he looked around for its source, knowing that voice anywhere. Lulu was such a brat, but she was like his baby sister. He knew she liked watching him dance just as he knew she’d refuse if he ever tried to dominate her on stage. Not that he’d even try. The thought grossed him out too much since they’d been so close for so long.
Finally locating the petite blonde at the back of the room, Cyrus actually missed a beat as he got a good look at the woman standing beside her. As his eyes traveled up
impossibly long legs to the sweet flare of hips and a trim waist, he felt his gut clench.
No way.
Cyrus felt sick. There was no doubt. It was Prue. Sweet, sexy Prue who’d let him do things to her that had shaken his control. And she was watching him strip, something that Cyrus didn’t usually feel embarrassed about. He was proud of his abilities, but knowing Prue was watching him take his clothes off on a stage in front of dozens of screaming strangers made him feel cheap.
Cyrus’s teeth clenched in the next moment. He had no idea how she’d found him, but if there was one thing he didn’t like, it was a clingy, desperate woman. He glared at her as he regained his footing, promising himself he’d deal with her later. He couldn’t very well stop in the middle of an act to throw a woman out of his club.
That thought in mind, Cyrus channeled his anger and embarrassment, grounding it until he found himself in control of it. He still had a woman to dominate, and he wasn’t about to lose control. It was his job to be strong for her. He danced back to where he’d seen the little sub who’d caught his attention, forcing himself to keep her firmly in mind each time his eyes tried to wander over to where Prue was standing. The little sub had been pushed back to the fourth row of women lining the runway, and Cyrus could see her standing on her toes, almost hopping up and down so she could see.
He tugged his whip off himself with a slither, and in a fluid motion cast it toward the little sub. His aim was true, and the whip tangled around her upper arm, not tight enough to cause discomfort but definitely tight enough to get her attention. Cyrus saw rather than heard her gasp, and he coiled the whip around his hand and gave it a gentle tug that had the woman stumbling toward him. The other women went wild, clapping and hollering, and Cyrus could see some envious looks directed at the sub he’d chosen.
Prue's Promises [Submissive Sirens 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 4
