Saving My Submission BN

by Jenna Jacob

  I felt the tension leave Dylan’s body. His features instantly softened. “I see. Okay, then here’s what I’ll do. I’m going to forget I interrupted this conversation and the unladylike words pouring out of your mouth, kitten.” He narrowed his eyes, pinning her with a look of warning. “Just don’t mistake my generosity for weakness, pet. Understood?”

  “Never, Master.”

  With a hint of a smile, Dylan walked back into the house. Savannah spun on her heel facing me once again. Anger hummed off her curvy frame in a palpable buzz.

  “What kind of fucking player does that to his own sub?” she railed.

  “That’s exactly what he was… a player. But I was too young and stupid to see though his finely crafted veil of bullshit.”

  “You weren’t stupid, Mel... maybe naïve, but you’ve never been stupid. Besides, it’s a Master’s duty to protect his sub, not toss her under the bus when a new piece of pussy walks through the door.”

  “I know, but I should have never given that bastard the power to hurt me, or make me believe the only way I could hold onto my sanity was to get as far away from him as I could. Please, you have to believe that I never wanted to leave you. Back then, I simply didn’t think I had any other option than to get as far away from Davis and the awful memories as I could.”

  “I believe you, Mel, but please tell me you haven’t been beating yourself up all these years for moving away?”

  My throat closed off with a sob and I nodded.

  “Mellie, Mellie. My sweet Mellie,” Sanna choked through her tears as she wrapped her arms around me.

  “God, Sanna, I’m so sorry. If I could go back and change things, I’d do it in a heartbeat,” I cried. “I’m so sorry I never told you the truth.”

  “Me too,” she whispered on a defeated sigh.

  Clutching her tighter, I apologized over and over while mourning the precious time I’d selfishly stolen from the two of us. After several long, emotional minutes Savannah pulled away and wiped her tears.

  “Okay, I have a solution to this problem. While I hire a hit man to take out Master Asswipe, you sell your house in Phoenix and move here,” she announced with a watery smile.

  I choked out a sobbing laugh and sniffed.

  Smoothing back my hair, she looked into my eyes. “I understand now why you were always so tense at Genesis, and why you never wanted to scene with any of the real Dominants there.”

  I nodded with a frown. “I’m sorry I never told you the truth, sis.”

  “No. Don’t go there,” she warned, narrowing her red-rimmed eyes. “We’ll only start bawling again. Besides, I’ve already forgiven you. You’re my sister. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. So, so, much,” I sniffed.

  She poured us each another glass of wine then we leaned against the railing of the deck and stared out at the lake. “Do you miss it… submission, I mean?”

  “Not until I come here and spend time with you three,” I softly confessed.

  “Oh, Mel,” Savannah groaned. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You have no idea how happy I am that you found those two wonderful, Dominant… truly Dominant men. And I’m even more ecstatic that you let them into your heart and your life.”

  A slight blush rose on her cheeks.

  “Do you know how proud I am that you’ve come out of hiding and have spread your wings? Or what a fucking gorgeous woman you’ve become?” I asked with a broad smile.

  “Stop,” she giggled, shaking her head.

  “No. I’m not going to stop. Since you found those two, you simply glow. You’re so full of life and so… illuminating. Hell, you walk into the room and it’s blinding… you’re blindingly beautiful, baby. And you did that all on your own.”

  “Not on my own,” she argued with a sappy smile. “I can say the exact same of you, and don’t you dare try and deny it. Honesty, last night Scotty was all but humping the damn table to get to you. Men are naturally drawn to you, like a lighthouse in pea green fog. So, if you’re going to start blowing smoke up my ass, you damn well better bend over, too.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. She’d always had a feisty side…like a little tornado. For years she’d hidden it away, but it was back for the world to see. For a split second I almost felt sorry for her two Doms. No, they knew exactly how to handle my spitfire sister, and they handled her with perfection.

  As if sensing the coast was clear, Dylan and Nick joined us, announcing that dinner was ready. Both men wrapped a protective arm around Sanna as we walked back inside. Watching the special bond they shared, her question echoed in my brain: ‘Do you miss it… submission, I mean?’

  Yes, Sanna I do, with each beat of my heart, but that’s one secret I’ll always keep.

  Throughout the scrumptious dinner, I felt as if a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The food tasted richer, laughter sounded sweeter, and the outpouring of love between my sister and her Masters didn’t scrape my heart as deeply.

  When the meal was done, Dylan turned to me, his expression bordering on concern.

  “We’re going to take Savannah to the club for a bit this evening. You’re more than welcome to join us if you’d like.”

  Darting a glance at my sister, I smiled as she nibbled her bottom lip.

  “Thank you for the invitation, Dylan, but I think I’ll stay here and take care of some work I’ve been neglecting.”

  “Very well.” He nodded with a hint of understanding. “We hope to have a chance to talk to you soon.”

  With a quick nod, I cast my eyes to my empty plate. Dylan’s message was loud and clear. Both men would know my story by the end of the night. The rules of submission were cut and dry; Savannah was not allowed to keep any secrets from her Masters. I didn’t take her having to spill my story as a betrayal of confidence. Sharing everything with her Masters was necessary for them to maintain open, honest communication in their relationship. Besides, the cat was out of the bag and with it, the realization it was time to bury the wounds Davis Walker aka ‘Chain Master’ had inflicted.

  #

  I woke the next morning with butterflies swirling in my stomach, and a hum of excitement pumping through my veins. It was crazy for me to feel so giddy. I’d been to hundreds of gallery showings, yet this one had me on pins and needles. I was going to meet the man… the legend... Joshua Lars.

  I’d seen pictures of him years ago, after the tragic death of his wife and daughter. He was strikingly handsome. Tall with defined, masculine features, but in the photos his green eyes appeared haunted—they had every right to be. The death of his wife, Victoria, and four-year-old daughter, Camille, rocked the art scene—hard. Victoria had been driving with little Camille to surprise Joshua at one of his local exhibitions. The weather was brutal. Caught in a massive downpour, the car was swept away by flash flood waters. Search and rescue teams discovered the vehicle and their bodies the next day. Joshua Lars went into seclusion and hadn’t come out…until tonight.

  My heart ached for him. I knew firsthand the hell of healing enough to rejoin the living. There are no words to describe the void left inside when a loved one is ripped from your life, or the struggle to gain closure when you didn’t get a chance to say good-bye. But losing a child… I couldn’t image surviving something like that.

  Shaking my head, I cleared the morose thoughts from my mind before wandering down to the kitchen in need of a caffeine infusion. The room was empty, and I stood in front of the intimidating coffee machine wearing a frown as I tried to remember what buttons to push to make a cup of coffee.

  “Technology, you’re a pain in my ass.”

  I managed to brew a cup, but it was black and bitter as tar. Digging through the cabinets, I spied a container of sugar behind a box of rice. Holding the weapon of Savannah’s most feared punishment, I couldn’t help but grin. Lifting up onto my toes, I reached for the sugar.

  “Can I help you?”

  In the quiet room, Nick’s deep voice vibrated
through me like a sonic boom. With a startled shriek I launched the box of rice into the air. It landed with a thud, spilling out all over the marble floor.

  “Dammit, Nick, you scared me half to death!” I shrieked as he started to laugh.

  “I’m sorry, Mel. I thought you heard me come in.”

  “Well, obviously I didn’t,” I huffed as I dropped to my knees to scoop up the mess.

  That was about the time Dylan and Savannah entered the kitchen as well. My sister’s eyes nearly bugged out of her skull.

  “Mel, what did you do?” she gasped in an accusatory tone before turning a beseeching gaze Nick’s way. “Honestly, Master, you can’t punish her. She’s not in the lifestyle anymore.”

  The tall Native American pinned Sanna with a look of disbelief. “I wasn’t attempting to punish her. I accidently scared her and she dropped the box of rice, precious.”

  “Oh,” Savannah murmured on a quiet rush of air. “Oops.”

  “But since it’s already laid out so nice and pretty, would you like a few moments to kneel on it, pet? Maybe think about why you assumed I’d dole out punishment on anyone other than you?” Nick’s brows arched and a ghost of a smirk played over his lips.

  “Oh, no thank you, Master. I’m fine. I…” she stammered.

  Both men started to laugh, and I bit back a grin while a wry smile spread over Sanna’s mouth.

  “Where’s the broom?” I asked, flashing my sister a playful smile.

  #

  The day dragged on and on, and even though I had my sister and her Masters to keep me company, I was antsy and unfocused. After an early dinner outside on the deck, I raced to my room to get ready for the gallery event. Primping far more than usual, I wondered if Joshua would show up for the gala. No doubt he’d have some svelte, blonde model on his arm.

  Hell, he could be married again for all you know. And why on earth are you entertaining sophomoric notions about him in the first place?

  “You’re certifiable, Mel,” I scolded my reflection in the mirror. “Go buy Abbas his art and get your ass back home.”

  With one last look, I smoothed my hands over the silky fabric, sucked in a deep breath and snatched up my red beaded clutch. Savannah was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs and as I made my way down on the vampy red stilettos, her eyes grew wide.

  “You look gorgeous,” she cooed. “Like you just stepped off a Paris runway.”

  I chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far, sis, but thank you.”

  Nick joined Sanna and issued a long, low whistle. “I guess we won’t be waiting up for you tonight, Mellie. Just try not to break whoever ends up dragging you to his lair.”

  “Oh for the love of… I’m not going to bed some stranger. Give me a break,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

  “Wanna bet?” Nick chuckled. “Come on, we’ll drop you off at the gallery. It’s right down the street from the club. Our little smart-ass here needs a gentle reminder that it’s not nice to question her Masters.” Nick issued a sideways glance at Sanna and smirked.

  “I can call a taxi.”

  “Nonsense. It’s on the way,” he insisted. “But you might need to grab a cab home. I’m not sure how long we’re going to be handing down our discipline.”

  He wore a quirky grin as he watched Sanna’s nervous expression. It was obvious Nick loved to pull her chain just to watch her squirm.

  “The club’s open already?” I asked.

  “No. We have the code to get in. We’ll be busy in our private room for quite some time,” Nick explained as we met up with Dylan, who was waiting for us in the garage.

  “Holy shit!” Dylan grinned. “You look amazing, Mellie.”

  “Thank you.” I giggled, feeling the heat rise on my cheeks.

  Dylan reached into his pocket then palmed a stack of condoms in my hand. “You’ll need these tonight. Trust me.”

  “Oh, my god. I will not,” I gasped, trying to give them back to him.

  “Keep ‘em. Just in case.” He winked.

  I quickly shoved the foil packets into my purse with an exasperated sigh.

  “Oh, before I forget,” Savannah announced as she handed me a piece of paper. “It’s the alarm code, in case we’re not here when you get back. Are you sure you can find a way home? I hate the thought of dropping you off and just leaving you there.”

  “Nice try, kitten,” Dylan chuckled. “Mellie’s a grown woman, with a cell phone. I’m one hundred percent convinced she’s capable of calling a cab.”

  Savannah pouted and I giggled. She might like to think she had both men wrapped around her little finger, but they were more than capable of keeping her in line. Each time I observed the by-play between the two, I became more confident she’d found her happy ever after.

  “I think you’re just looking for a reason to spank me,” she grumbled.

  “Who said anything about spanking, pet?” Nick arched a brow. “But now that you mention it, with a slathering of contempt, I might add… we might just have to accommodate your wishes, and give you a few with the mother-fucker.”

  Sanna groaned and opened her mouth to argue but wisely snapped it shut. I didn’t know what the mother-fucker was, but obviously it wasn’t my sister’s favorite toy.

  The entire ride downtown, Sanna fidgeted while Dylan and Nick taunted her with various implements they intended to use on her. They were giving her a royal mind fuck, but I knew while I tended to vanilla business, my sister would be drowning in submissive bliss. I thought it ironic that we’d somehow switched places over the years.

  Standing in line outside the gallery, I watched Nick drive away. The butterflies I’d tried to calm all day came fluttering back to life with a vengeance. Inwardly scolding myself for my immaturity, I inhaled a deep breath and thanked the elderly man who held the door for me. Stepping inside the foyer, I scanned the crowd, wondering what eye-scalding eclectic outfit Christian would be sporting for such a grand occasion. The man had a penchant for anything neon, and wore it proudly. Spotting him immediately, I smiled while his spiked bleached white hair tipped in neon orange assaulted my eyes.

  “Mellie,” Christian squealed as he rushed toward me, wearing a subdued black tux with tails. With a dainty hug he air-kissed my cheeks then stepped back. “You look stunning.”

  “Thank you, Christian. You’re looking handsomely formal this evening.”

  “It’s a special night,” he announced with a shiver of excitement.

  “Yes, indeed it is. Is Joshua Lars here?” I asked, trying to keep my tone as blasé as possible.

  “No. Not yet. He’ll be arriving later.” Turning his head, Christian tossed his nose in the air with a dramatic lift. “Come. You’ve got to see all these incredible pieces.”

  Following him into the gallery, I felt my mouth fall open. The enormous room showcased dozens of phenomenal works, both large and small. Each piece was painstakingly displayed beneath a network of lights designed to highlight the intricate detail of Joshua’s amazing talent. Awestruck, I stood in one spot turning slowly, attempting to absorb the vast splendor before me.

  Guests mingled, their murmured voices buzzing like bees in a hive. A life-size piece in the center of the room drew me like a magnet. Edging closer, I stood enamored at the breath-taking harem girl. Wrapped in scarves that appeared to flow on an invisible wind, she stood poised on tiptoe as if in mid dance. A mischievous glint seemed to reflect in her eyes, leaving the impression that a seductive smile lay hidden beneath the veil draped over the lower half of her face. The piece was so stunning it nearly took my breath away.

  Abbas would kill for this piece.

  Turning, I locked gazes with Christian who’d been watching me with a boyish grin, and I gave him a slight nod. Laughing, he scurried away, returning moments later with a black leather folio tucked under his arm. Over the next hour and a half, I procured eight exquisite pieces for Abbas.

  Christian disappeared to process the financial transaction, and I wandered the gallery
one last time eyeing the pieces I’d chosen for Abbas. I lifted a flute of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and stepped to the back of the gallery, indulging myself with a private toast for a job well done. Raising my glass, I spied a piece of art tucked away in the corner that I’d somehow missed. Stepping closer, I stopped. Frozen in shock, I stared at the piece, totally mesmerized.

  Situated on a tall pedestal was the tiny figure of a naked woman, kneeling. Her face was upturned toward the heavens and her long slender neck banded in a wide metal collar. My breath caught in my lungs as I stared at her hands resting on her splayed thighs—palms up—her pose undeniably submissive.

  Tears burned the back of my eyes and my heartbeat quickened. The statue called to me in a way so powerful and primitive, I couldn’t stop staring. How had the man managed to transform a lump of clay into such a powerful reflection of submission? The enthralling piece of art seemed to have been crafted as a tribute from the heart.

  The intricate details were so painstakingly exact that meticulous tears clung to slivers of her eye lashes. So realistic, I could clearly see the lines on her palms and whorls carved into each fingertip. Even the pads of her heels had been etched like the living. Long hair fell in soft curls over her slender shoulders and cascaded down her back, kissing the apex of her ass.

  Studying her oval face, her prominent cheekbones, narrow nose, and full lips bore a disturbing resemblance to my own. A shiver slithered up my spine. The longer I studied the piece, the more convinced I became; she wasn’t gazing toward the sky. No, the girl was focused on the face of some unseen Master—seeking approval, pleading for Dominance, or begging his mercy.

  Entranced by the lifelike figure, memories bubbled to the surface, igniting a blistering fire of longing and neglect. Seduced by the smoky images filling my mind, I could see myself—through the eyes of an unknown voyeur—kneeling before the man who once held my heart, mind, and soul. Lost in reminiscence, the ghostly sound of my own submissive voice resonated in my ears, while sheltered surrender warmed my empty soul. My days had been bound to unfulfilling duties and tasks, but my nights… oh, my nights had been spent liberated in the bliss of submission. Every cell in my body ached to re-live that glorious feeling…for one more night.