by Jenna Jacobs
“So you two come here often, I take it?”
“Who are you talking to, girl?” Dylan asked arching his brows.
“Oh, I mean, Sirs.” I glanced nervously to the couple seated near our booth and lowered my head. “Sirs.”
“What was that, kitten? We didn’t hear you.”
“I said, Sirs,” I whispered. My gaze was glued on the older, sophisticated-looking woman and her handsome son. Silently praying she wouldn’t choke on her manicotti. I was confused when the woman simply arched a brow, before a soft smile spread upon her lips.
“Would you prefer to stand on the table and shout out the proper way to address us, little one? We can make that happen,” Nick scolded.
I flashed him a look of fear. “No, Sir. I’d rather not do that.”
“Then speak up and address us as you’ve been trained, girl,” he instructed.
“I’m sorry Masters, I’m not used to…exposing my submission like this.”
“Kitten, there are more lifestylers here than vanillas at the moment. That’s one of the reasons we brought you here, so you could get accustomed to being in public with us.”
“You mean some of these people are in the lifestyle, too?”
Before either of them could answer my question, an older man with a shiny bald spot came through the door. A petite blonde pixie clutched his elbow, laughing as if her father had just told her some hilarious joke.
“George!” Nick called with a wave in the air.
George and Leagh? I blinked. Neither of them looked anything like I’d imagined. I stared at the couple and tried to envision them together…as in together. George was light years older than young Leagh, who was latched to his side, bubbly and vivacious.
“Nick,” George cried, a bright smile spreading over his wrinkled face. Seconds later, he and Leagh stood next to our booth. “Glad to see you made it back in one piece.”
The older man appraised me for a brief second then turned his attention back on Dylan and Nick. Leagh’s focus remained fixed on me. Her eyes flickered as a knowing smile spread across her petite mouth.
“May I, Master?” the young blonde asked in a low whisper.
“After Dylan and Nick have made the introductions, you may ask their permission, precious.”
The feisty girl rolled her eyes and bobbed her head back and forth. Her body language screamed, ‘get on with it already.’ I chuckled.
“She doesn’t need any help getting into trouble, kitten,” Dylan warned me.
“Awww, I’m not that bad,” Leagh protested with an insincere pout.
“No, you’re worse,” George growled. He pulled a red ball gag from the pocket of his suit coat and allowed it to dangle in front of Leagh’s face.
I flashed a nervous look around the restaurant. The prim woman seated next to us looked at the swaying ball gag, then placed her fork on her plate.
“A red ass is what she needs,” the woman stated in a droll tone.
“Oh come on, Mistress Ivory. I’m behaving, honest. I’ve done nothing wrong,” Leagh protested with an impish grin.
“Yet, dear girl. And I say that with much faith,” chuckled the stylish woman.
Mistress? Wow, Dylan wasn’t lying; the whole place was crawling with Doms and subs. Upon further observation, I noticed that the young man seated with Mistress Ivory kept his head down. His attention was focused on the plate of food in front of him. Definitely her sub. Watching the young man, the worry that I wasn’t showing the proper respect to either George or Ivory skittered through my brain. God, I didn’t want to look like a novice, even if I was one. I certainly didn’t want my actions to reflect badly on Dylan or Nick. Terrified I was somehow embarrassing my Masters, indecision and confusion had me all but crawling out of my skin. I tensed and cast my eyes to the table.
Dylan leaned in, brushing the hair from my shoulder. “You’re doing fine, my love. Don’t hide from our friends, we don’t require strict protocols. Relax.”
His warm breath sent a wave of relief. His hand clasped mine beneath the table, instilling was a much-needed shot of confidence. His anchor was a welcome respite from all the nerve-racking emotions blazing through me. I raised my head and smiled as Nick introduced me to George, Leagh, and Mistress Ivory. I cast an inquisitive glance at the young man seated with Ivory, uncertain as to why Nick had bypassed him.
“Ignore him,” Mistress Ivory said with a wave of her hand. “My boy, Dark Desire, won’t be joining in on this conversation or any other for a few days, I’m sorry to say.”
She cast him a blasphemous look. Had I been on the receiving end of such distain, I’d have burst into tears. What dreadful thing had he done to warrant such scorching disapproval? As Mistress turned her attention back our way, the young man peeked at me beneath his dark lashes. I nibbled my lip then issued a weak smile, praying neither of us got caught sharing a subtle greeting. He seemed to be in enough trouble, I didn’t want to add to it.
I felt a bizarre bond with Dark Desire, and with the boisterous pixie Leagh, as well. It was something akin to being on the same team, or strangely connected, in some weird way. I longed to pull them aside and find out what it was. But I knew it wasn’t the right time.
“Yet, indeed,” George agreed, pinning Leagh with an arbitrary look of disapproval before glancing back at Nick. “Hey, we never did get that snow storm you were talking about.”
“Consider yourself lucky.” Nick shook his head. “It was a bitch.”
“Masterrrr,” Leagh whined, hopping like an impatient bunny.
“Christ, girl, you’re going to be the death of me,” George grumbled. “You may ask.”
Leagh squealed then bounced up on her tiptoes to plant a wet kiss on George’s cheek.
“Thank you, Master.” She cleared her throat with dramatic flair before clasping her hands behind her petite frame. Casting a hopeful glance to both Dylan and Nick, she smiled an impish grin. I wanted to giggle at her deferential attempt. “Sirs? May I please have permission to speak to your beautiful sub?”
“Now that didn’t hurt at all, did it, Leagh?” Dylan teased.
Leagh clutched her hand around her neck. “Like broken glass lodged in my throat, Sir,” she laughed.
“Well I’m glad you didn’t choke,” Nick smirked. “And yes, precious Dahlia, you may speak to Savannah.”
“Oh goodie! Thank you, Sirs.” Without warning, she leaned across the table and gripped me in a tight but awkwardly positioned hug. I felt a warm, sincere friendliness bubbling from inside her.
“It’s so nice to meet you and it’s way amazing that Sir Dylan and Sir Nick have finally found a girl to share.” Her excited giggle made me smile, even if her words held a sense of backhanded compliment. But something about her made me realize that wasn’t her intent. “There are gonna be submissive hearts breaking all over Genesis now. These two hunks have been making our sub sisters drool for years. They’re going to be green. Green, I tell ya.”
“Leagh.” George interrupted. “That’s more than enough, my little hellcat.”
“Well, thank you, Leagh…I think,” I snickered.
“Oh, yeah, it’s a good thing they found you. I can already tell you’ll be able to handle them. Trust me!” She winked.
“We’ll leave you in peace to enjoy your lunch now,” George announced with a weary sigh. “Glad you’re home safe and sound. Savannah, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, girl.”
“Likewise, Sir George.” I smiled.
Before turning away, George leaned down. “Keep her,” he whispered under his breath to both my Masters.
“We plan on it.” Nick beamed as George and Leagh walked across the restaurant to a vacant table.
“Just for the record, I totally agree with George.” Mistress Ivory nodded with a cheeky grin. “Just sayin’.”
Nick started to laugh. “She’ll be accompanying us to the club tonight.” He announced with a wide, proud smile.
“Oh, I’ll look forward to watching y
ou two work her.” Ivory grinned.
Suddenly, the bottom fell out of my stomach. Work her? What the hell did that mean? I peeked at Dylan beneath my lashes, anxious for understanding.
“She mean’s she’ll enjoy watching us scene with you, kitten.”
“You mean people are going to watch us, Sir?”
“Of course, little one,” Nick replied as he turned in the booth, shielding me from the other patrons. “Trust us. We’d never hurt you.”
“I know that Master, but can’t we do that in your private room, instead?”
“Oh, we plan on it, kitten. That’s a given.” Dylan flashed an impish grin. “There’s no need to worry. We’ll always keep you safe.”
Before I could begin to imagine what they would do to me in public, the waitress placed our drinks and three heaping bowls of salad on the table. My stomach rolled when the scent of Italian dressing wafted up my nose.
Trust them, Sanna. You’ve got to let go and trust them. They love you.
I hesitated then picked up my fork. “You okay, little one?” Nick’s dark eyes drilled into mine, evaluating and reading my emotions as he always did.
A blanket of peace washed over me as I gazed into his twinkling eyes. “Yes, Master. I’m perfectly okay.”
“God, I love you, girl,” he whispered as he cupped my chin and captured my lips.
#
In the outer vestibule of Genesis, we stood in a long line. I felt naked in my corset and short ruffled skirt. The room buzzed as members laughed and chatted. Both Dylan and Nick took great pride in introducing me to the people around us. I smiled and greeted each person, and prayed I wasn’t expected to remember all their names. Muffled sounds of paddles and whips filled the air, growing louder as members passed through a thick curtain near the front of the line. I was anxious to see what lay beyond, in the next room.
Antsy and self-conscious of my bountiful cleavage and barely covered thighs, I couldn’t stop tugging at my trench coat.
“You look stunning, little one. Stop fidgeting,” Nick growled in my ear.
“I’m trying Master, really I am,” I whispered, nibbling my bottom lip.
“Everyone will love you, kitten. Please don’t be nervous. Think of us as a big extended family that enjoys the kinkier side of life.” Dylan coaxed.
“Seriously, Master. I doubt my Aunt Emily, the crazy cat lady of Tulsa, is into this stuff.”
“I thought you only had Mellie?” Dylan asked in confusion.
“We don’t talk to Aunt Emily for a reason,” I chuckled. “She’s crazy. I mean, full-on bonkers. Like, little white coat with funny sleeves crazy. My own dad wouldn’t even talk to her, and she was his only sister.”
“So does mental illness run in your family, kitten?” Dylan sobered.
“No!” I hissed in a hushed whisper.
He and Nick started to laugh. I rolled my eyes and issued an exasperated sigh.
“Admit it. I got you to relax just a little bit now, didn’t I?” Dylan winked with an ornery grin.
I sent him a half smirk then leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Yes, Master. Thank you.”
Looking around at the growing group of lifestylers, I found solace that there were so many others like me in the world. The submissives I’d met were welcoming and put me somewhat at ease--at least until I spied a big, burly biker-looking dude who was dressed in leather, standing near a podium at the front of the lobby. Tattoos covered his beefy arms and his expression was tight and stern. A stunning woman with thick red hair and enchanting green eyes stood on his left, smiling and talking to the members as they waited at the podium. On his right was a thin young man with long, silky blonde hair. His infectious giggles and overt gestures made me smile.
“Who are they?” I whispered in Nick’s ear, feeling intimidated by the massive man in leather.
“That’s Drake, his submissive and life partner Trevor, and the woman is the person we’ve been anxious for you to meet. That’s Emerald.”
“Are they a threesome, too?”
“No,” Nick shook his head. “Emerald isn’t Drake’s sub, but she is under his protection. She doesn’t have a Master yet, so she goes to Drake if she has a problem or needs help with her submission.”
“I bet nobody messes with her. That guy is intimidating,” I whispered under my breath.
“Drake’s a good guy. One of the best Masters I’ve ever known. And his single tail skills are impeccable.” Nick praised.
“He and Trevor are amazing to watch when they scene, kitten. You’ve got to see them together.” Dylan added with a smile.
I frowned. Was Dylan talking about us watching them have sex? Did everyone in the club have public sex? Surely they didn’t expect me to have sex with them while everyone watched, did they? I had no idea what to expect. My mind was zipping like a lab rat in a maze.
As I continued to stare at the threesome behind the podium, Emerald looked my way. She glanced at Dylan and Nick then a broad smile spread over her full, red lips. I watched as she leaned over and whispered into Drake’s ear. Suddenly, he raised his eyes and leveled me with a stare. I felt myself shrink like a violet in the desert. Swallowing tightly, I cast my eyes toward my black stilettos.
“What’s wrong, pet?” Nick mumbled in my ear.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I confessed.
“Do you trust us to take care of you?” Nick asked, trailing kisses over my jaw and down my neck.
I raised my eyes, melting beneath his touch and his reassuring smile. “Yes, Master.”
“Thank you, little one. Then everything else will be perfectly fine.”
I felt fine again, until it was our turn at the podium to be checked into the club. Drake’s gray eyes sparkled to life as he welcomed my Masters back. I hadn’t expected such a drastic change in his gruff demeanor, but I still trembled when he shook my hand. Trevor and Emerald were courteous and I sensed an undercurrent of excitement as Dylan made their introductions.
“Emerald, if you happen to have some time to spare over the next few weeks, we’d like to ask you to help Savannah get more acclimated to submissive life.”
“I’d be honored Sir Nick,” she respectfully replied.
Emerald’s smile could have lit up all of Las Vegas. When she turned and looked at me, I could feel her compassion and wholehearted acceptance. In the ten seconds since we’d met, I knew I wanted to spend a lot more time with her, learning everything she could teach me.
“We have sub meetings every Saturday morning from nine until noon here at the club,” she began. “Don’t be shy. Come and join us. We talk about a lot of different topics. Some will help you now and some will help you further down the road. Plus, Trevor and I always compete to see who makes the most sinful munchies.”
“She doesn’t kick my ass often, but she does make the best brownies on earth,” Trevor laughed then blew a kiss to Emerald.
“Thank you. I’d really like that, if I get permission,” I added, looking between my Masters. Emerald’s welcoming mien did more to calm the butterflies swirling in my stomach than I could have accomplished on my own.
“We wouldn’t have asked for her help otherwise, kitten.” Dylan smiled.
I signed a long waiver filled with legal mumbo-jumbo before Dylan tugged my coat away, tossed it over his arm, then pulled back the heavy velvet curtain.
I held my breath.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
My heart was in my throat as the curtain slid closed behind us. I tried to take in every sight, sound and sensation, but I couldn’t. I was in BDSM overload. Having read about dungeons, it was plain to see that their friend--Michael, Mika, Mitchell; hell, I couldn’t remember his name--had spared no expense on Genesis. It was gorgeous. More stations lined the walls than I could count. They were filled with submissives enjoying a plethora of sensations by their Masters and Mistresses.
Numerous tables filled the center of the room, each adorned in ambient candlelight where members sat watching and
talking in low voices, sipping drinks. The sweet scent of leather, combined with a hint of vanilla and melded with the musky tinges of sex, hung heavy in the air.
Dylan stowed my coat then he and Nick ushered me toward a gleaming mahogany bar, waving and smiling to members along the way. A tiny blonde woman with twinkling blue eyes and enormous boobs moved efficiently behind the long counter, filling plastic cups with ice, sodas and juices.
Nick leaned in and whispered against my ear. “That’s Sammie. She’s our resident Domme and bar mistress extraordinaire. Come on, let’s get a drink.”
I nodded, still enthralled at being in an actual BDSM club. As we sat down on the tall bar stools, I continued to try and watch it all.
“There you two are,” Sammie exclaimed with a saucy and sassy smile. “I thought you’d gone off and forgotten us. Oh, and who do we have here?”
Her blue eyes danced over my face then my corset and down my legs, smiling in approval. “Sammie, this is our girl, Savannah,” Nick gloated, his smile growing wider.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Savannah.” She extended a petite hand. Her long nails were painted a blood red color.
“A pleasure to meet you as well, Ma’am.” I smiled with a soft shake of her tiny hand.
“Oh, such good manners, too,” Sammie winked. “You two better hang on to this one.”
“We fully intend to,” Dylan piped up with a buoyant smile.
“Good to hear. Now, what can I get you all to drink?” She asked with a wink.
Nick ordered sodas for us, then turned the stool I was sitting on until I faced away from the bar.
“Watch, little one,” he instructed as he rested his wide hand upon my bare knee. His warmth heated my blood.
Dylan draped his arm around my shoulder and for the first time all night, I felt absolute calm. Sheltered in their protection, I felt brave and safe.
As I sipped my drink, I focused on the different sizes and ages of the subs. Most were naked and none seemed bothered by it. I couldn’t understand how they weren’t at least a little embarrassed, but if they were, they didn’t show it. Not at all.
