Frisky Business

by Michele Bardsley

  And she wanted to go.

  If only to keep what wisps of integrity and self-esteem she had left.

  She stared at the plush curtains, doubt nibbling on her confidence. Lucius might not arrange this sort of nefarious send-off, but Macintosh would. When the curtains opened, would she see Macintosh, Lucius, and other Bad Boy staff waiting for her to make a fool of herself? The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Suddenly, everything seemed rehearsed—from the young man finding her in the hall, to the mountain man getting her onto the stage.

  You are a dead man, Macintosh!

  Before she could decide whether to tough it out or to take the chicken’s way out—right out of the line and off the stage, music blared and the curtains rolled back. As she looked out into the sea of people who’d packed the room, Claire felt the blood rush from her face. This wasn’t the dungeon. And it wasn’t an elaborate prank.

  Claire’s heart flipped over in her chest then did the mambo up to her throat. Shit … oh shit. She’d made a mistake. A terrible mistake.

  A female voice purred, “Welcome Doms and Dommes! Thank you for attending Lady Pink’s nightly slave auction!”

  “CLAIRE’S BEING AUCTIONED,” said Mac, his English accent deliberately cockney, as he strolled into the dungeon ten minutes late. Mac was short, but buff, with a shaved head and pierced ears—three hoops in each lobe. He wore ripped jeans and a black T-shirt that read “Porn Star” in big white letters.

  Lucius’s temper was about to snap. Mac thought arriving on time for anything was terribly droll, but Claire would get hit by car and still drag her carcass into the office rather than be a millisecond late. But she was late and he was worried.

  Had she booked that flight home after all?

  “Damn it, Mac! I know you’re the best photographer in the biz, but we only have two hours and you’re costing—” Lucius stared at his friend’s smug expression. “What did you say?”

  “Your executive assistant is on Lady Pink’s auction block. She looks delish, I must say.” Mac whistled. Then he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Across the hallway. I peeked in to see what’s what.”

  For a moment, Lucius simply could not wrap his mind around the idea that Claire had volunteered for a BDSM slave auction. “What the bloody hell is she doing!?”

  “Sellin’ herself to the highest bidder.” Mac grinned. “What’s wrong, mate? Afraid someone else will get your submissive?”

  “Shut up.”

  Mac laughed, unafraid of Lucius’s ire. “Here you are, a Dom without a sub. And there she is—”

  “A woman who doesn’t recognize her own nature.” Lucius rubbed his temples. “She’s not mine. Hell, she wants to get away from me so badly she quit her job!”

  “That’s what you think?” Mac shook his head. Then he slapped Lucius on the shoulder. “I was only havin’ you on, Lucius. I bet our Claire got her directions mixed up. Maybe she thought we’d changed the shoot’s location. Not out of the realm of possibility, mate. You’re as likely to change your mind as the sun is to shine.”

  That explanation made a helluva lot more sense. Claire had not shown an interest in the BDSM lifestyle. But even if she’d decided it was time to unleash her inner naughty girl, she wouldn’t have ditched work.

  Lucius strode toward the door, but Mac grabbed him by the arm. “Hold on there. Don’t embarrass yourself or Claire by doing something impetuous.” Mac gestured to the rack of costumes they’d brought in for the models. “If you want to rescue your damsel, you gotta look the part of the knight.”

  Lucius gestured to the black leather outfit he already wore. “You’re the only one who refuses to wear the right clothing here.”

  “I’ll walk around in the buff before I put on a nancy-boy costume like yours,” exclaimed Mac with a shit-eating grin. “Claire will throw herself off the top of the hotel if she figures out you bought her.” He pointed to the row of black hoods meant to cover everything but the eyes and mouth.

  “What the hell makes you think I’m going to buy Claire?”

  “It’s what you’ve been trying to do since she quit.”

  “That’s crossing the line,” said Lucius through clenched teeth. He hated that his friend was right. He’d been trying to figure out a way to keep Claire near him. She was sensitive to his moods, remembered what he liked and what he didn’t, and often gave him the kind of hard-ons that required cold showers. He sensed her natural submissive tendencies, but had never pushed the issue with her.

  Until now.

  When she’d given him two weeks’ notice, he’d been shell-shocked. Maybe that’s why he’d done everything his power to get her to Bondage Bay. He’d been telling himself that he only wanted to convince her to stay as his assistant.

  But maybe he’d really been hoping for this kind of opportunity. He had a chance to explore a deeper relationship with her. No. This was crazy. He would simply buy her anonymously and let her go. Unless she wanted to be his slave … yeah, if she accepted him as her Dom then he would take her.

  She’ll never agree. Why would Claire show her vulnerability and pain to a stranger when she wouldn’t open up to him? Surely she knew that he cared deeply for her.

  “Better get going, mate.”

  Lucius glanced at the row of leather masks. “Fine. I’ll do whatever it takes to save her, but you stay here and take some damned pictures.”

  “Aye-aye, cap’n.”

  CLAIRE HAD TRIED twice to leave, but Lady Pink snapped the whip on her exposed upper thigh. It stung like hell. She desperately wanted to tell someone that a huge mistake had been made. Lady Pink was busy listing the attributes of the slaves, but she was keeping an eagle eye on Claire. Honestly, Claire really didn’t want any more of the woman’s attention.

  Bad Boy had agreed not to interrupt ongoing activities. As much as Claire wanted to leap off the stage and run away, she didn’t want to do something that would affect Bad Boy or Lucius negatively. Besides, she was a little scared of Lady Pink. And she was a lot scared of being someone’s sexual property.

  So, she decided that she would negotiate with whoever bought her. The “sales” were really charitable donations, and she was a sucker for supporting good causes. All she had to do was explain to her purchaser that she was not a slave and offer to reimburse the price paid. She’d figure out something to tell Lucius about her late arrival. Then she could forget about this humiliating experience.

  “Sold!” purred Lady Pink. “Our first sale of the evening, ladies and gentlemen, for two thousand, three hundred dollars.”

  She drew the pink whip over the young woman’s shoulder. “Step forward, slave.”

  The woman moved out of the line-up. She was dressed in a red mini skirt and thigh-high boots. Her small breasts were barely covered by a strip of red fabric. She wore a hair band that sported two red horns.

  “What’s your name?” asked Lady Pink.

  “Devil Girl.”

  Lady Pink gestured to someone on the side of the stage. A man strode toward them. He wore an elaborate yellow mask that looked like a sunburst; his vinyl outfit had gradient shades of yellow, orange and red.

  “This is your Master, Devil Girl. He has purchased you for the next twenty-four hours. Do you agree to be his?”

  “Yes.”

  “Show your Master homage.”

  Devil Girl kneeled before the tall sun god and kissed his booted feet.

  “Does she meet your approval, Master?” asked Lady Pink.

  “Yes,” said the man.

  “Everyone knows the rules.” Lady Pink smiled seductively and snapped the whip in the air. “A Master and his slave must entertain us. Whet our appetites, beloved ones. Give us a hot scene.”

  The crowd cheered and clapped.

  Claire felt her stomach drop to her toes. What fresh hell was this?

  “Stand up,” demanded the Master.

  His slave stood immediately and kept her eyes cast down.

  “Turn around
so that your back faces the audience.”

  Again, Devil Girl did exactly as the man directed.

  “Bend over and grab your ankles.”

  The woman bent over and wrapped her hands around the red boots.

  Claire watched in breathless anticipation. What would the Master demand next? And why was the woman complying so readily? She didn’t seem to mind being bossed around at all. Claire didn’t want to contemplate the idea that her own reaction was skewed. Her heart pounded and sweat dotted her brow.

  The Master flipped up Devil Girl’s skirt and revealed her naked ass to the people watching. Claire’s face went hot with embarrassment as she realized the woman wore no underwear at all.

  “Would you like an instrument of torture?” asked Lady Pink. She wheeled over a tray filled with items that looked like surgical tools. Claire also noticed a couple of floggers, a selection of dildos, several thin metal rods, and a Taser.

  Her gaze switched to the poor woman. Claire wondered how Devil Girl could tolerate standing in that position. All the blood was rushing to her head and surely, she would pass out.

  The Master chose a slim metal piece that was flat and about as long as his arm. He held it at one end then placed it across Devil Girl’s exposed buttocks.

  A hush descended on the crowd. Seconds ticked by and Claire realized the man was making his slave wait. Was she dreading the impact? Or would she relish it?

  Whack! The metal slapped her pale flesh and left a thin, red welt. Claire nearly swallowed her tongue.

  Whack! Whack! Whack!

  The girl didn’t flinch, but Claire did. Then she swore she heard a low moan. She’s enjoying it! Claire’s heart thundered in her chest. She was willing to go through the charade to a point, but the idea of doing BDSM play with a complete stranger terrified her.

  It also excited her.

  Whoa. What? No. Okay. Yes. But it only intrigued her a little. Had her ex-lover been right about her? Did she deny her sexual needs because they seemed wrong? No. Phillip pushed and pushed until she’d caved and then … well, it had ended badly. If Phillip had truly loved her, he wouldn’t have prodded her into those circumstances.

  The Master whacked the woman’s ass another five times. Claire tried to control her breathing. God, it was hot in here. She didn’t dare move, not with Lady Pink so close and her whip so ready.

  Finally the Master finished. He traced every welt lovingly then flipped down the skirt. “You may stand.”

  Devil Girl rose, standing still, and waited. The Master rubbed her ass and said, “You have pleased me.”

  Claire saw the flash of pleasure in Devil Girl’s eyes as she smiled. The Master took her by the hand and led her off the stage.

  The crowd applauded loudly while some whistled and others shouted. When the merriment settled down, Lady Pink sauntered behind Claire and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Take a look at this trim and beautiful goddess! Is she not all that you desire?”

  Lady Pink brushed her hand over the teal choker. “Her Master must adore her! He has blessed her with a collar of consideration and yet, he allows her to play with a special bidder.”

  She pushed Claire forward and shouted, “Come on, Doms and Dommes, who will bid on our next lovely slave?”

  Chapter 3

  “FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS!”

  “One thousand!”

  “Fifteen hundred!”

  “They want you,” purred Lady Pink. She stepped past Claire and snapped the whip. “Fifteen hundred? Is that all you will pay for this goddess to be yours?”

  “Fifteen thousand.”

  Claire almost swallowed her tongue. Due to the bright stage lights, she couldn’t really see individual faces. The deep voice of the male bidder seemed to be further back in the room.

  “Sixteen thousand,” said another male voice, this one had gruff, English accent.

  “Twenty thousand,” came the counter-offer.

  “Twenty-one thousand.”

  “Fifty-thousand!” roared the first man.

  “Going once, going twice … sold!” yelled Lady Pink. “Come to the stage, Master, and claim what is yours!”

  She smiled broadly at Claire. “I’ve never sold a slave for that much. He must really want you.”

  While they waited for the buyer to make his way through the throngs of people, Lady Pink titillated the crowd with details about the next girl up for auction.

  Fifty-thousand dollars! Claire tried not to panic. Oh, crap! No way could she pay off a fifty-thousand-dollar charitable donation. She might have to commit herself to being the slave of her mystery man.

  Now why did that option cause delicious shivers? She wasn’t into BDSM and she hated mind games. Thanks to Phillip she’d been mind-fucked enough, thank you. She didn’t need some jerk telling her what to do and where to go and—

  “Welcome, Master,” said Lady Pink.

  Nervously, Claire looked at the tall man dressed head-to-toe in black leather, including a black hood with only holes for the eyes and mouth. Her heart pounded furiously. The way his clothes fit indicated a well-muscled body. She wondered what he looked like under his mask.

  “Slave! Step forward and show homage to your owner.”

  Claire hesitated a second too long. The pink whip whistled ominously toward her thigh, but the man grabbed the Domme’s wrist.

  “Nobody punishes my slave.” His voice was low and slightly rough. It reminded her of Christian Bale’s voice when he donned the mask of Batman.

  Lady Pink’s mouth thinned and her eyes flashed with challenge. “She has not acquiesced to be yours.”

  “You haven’t given her the opportunity.” He dropped the woman’s wrist. Then he looked at Claire. “What is your name?”

  Oh, hell. She couldn’t give him her real name. Thinking of her favorite Disney movie, she said, “My name is Belle.”

  “Vous êtes beau, ma fleur.”

  You are beautiful, my flower. His French was flawless. She dropped her head in acknowledgement and said, “Merci.”

  “Do you accept me as your Master?”

  The question hung in the air, glistening with promise. Doubt once again nibbled at her, but she could only offer one answer. “Yes.”

  “Entertain us!” crowed Lady Pink, snapping her whip in the air.

  “We will not do a scene,” announced her new Master. “Come with me, Belle.”

  He turned around, fully expecting Claire to adhere to his command. What could she do, but follow. As she did so, she noticed that the man who’d purchased her had a really nice ass. Gak! What was wrong with her? Well, hell. Just because Lucius was permanently off her menu didn’t mean she couldn’t consider the other entrees.

  When they got off the stage, a woman handed Claire her day planner and shopping bag. Hurrying to catch up with the Master, she touched his arm. She could tell by his sudden stillness that she had broken some kind of slave-master etiquette. He turned to her and she felt the weight of his pointed stare.

  “There’s been a mistake,” she said. “I’m not a slave. I ended up on the stage by accident.”

  “What if I told you, Belle, that there were no accidents?”

  She stopped short of rolling her eyes. “I’d say you were full of shit.”

  “Interesting answer.” He studied her for a moment. With his face covered, she couldn’t see his expression and his eyes offered no clue about his thoughts. Finally, he said, “You wish to break our agreement?”

  “I can pay you back the fifty-thousand-dollars—”

  He shook his head. “I’m not talking about the money. I’m talking about your acceptance of me as your Master for next twenty-four hours.”

  Claire’s eyes widened. “I… that is…” Her heart turned over in her chest. She clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking. “I don’t know how to be…”

  The rest of the words died in her throat.

  “A submissive.”

  She nodded.

  “You don’t have a
Master. Why are you wearing a blue collar?”

  “I bought it in the gift shop because it matched my corset.” Her cheeks flamed as she confessed her vanity. “I was supposed to go to a photo shoot. In fact, I’m really late. My boss is going to give me the third degree.”

  “Perhaps I will.”

  Claire peered up at him. “What?”

  The mouth hole wasn’t large enough to show his lips, but she realized he was smiling. “I’m teasing you.” He chuckled. “You would be so delicious, Belle. But I do not take the unwilling.”

  “The money…”

  “I don’t care about the money,” he said with a shrug. “But I am disappointed about losing you.” He cupped her face and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “It’s a shame you don’t wish to explore your true nature.”

  “Someone already tried what you’re offering to do,” she admitted. “Believe me, it’s not my true nature.”

  “I’m sorry.” His hand dropped away and Claire felt suddenly bereft. “He was not the one for you.”

  “But you are?”

  “We will never know.”

  Her stomach squeezed. He sounded so disappointed. She opened her planner and unhooked the pen. “I feel just awful about this whole thing. Here, give me your cell phone number so I can call you to discuss repayment. Fifty grand is a lot of money, it might take me a while to procure funds.”

  “You will not repay me the money.”

  Mortified by his stern tone, she stuck the pen into its holder. Her face heated with embarrassment as she looked at the floor. She swallowed the knot in her throat. “I beg to differ,” she said. “I cannot, in good conscious, walk away from a debt that large.”

  “Ah. What is a debt but an obligation?” he asked. “You value money, Belle, but not your word? Your pledge to me?”

  Claire stared at him; the mortification flowed like lava through her, burning into her stomach. She had never been accused of being untrustworthy. It galled her to know that he was right. That she was breaking her word—going back on a promise made.

  To a stranger.

  To a man who had bought her.

  To a Master.