“What?” Chloe looked at her through the beautiful mask’s eye holes. “I thought everything was going to happen here.” In fact, she’d been counting on it. She’d had the idea that if she got into trouble, she could always make some excuse to leave the “date” for a moment and run find Zoe who could tell her what to do next. The idea of going off to a strange location to meet with a strange man and “dominate” him with no backup was absolutely terrifying.
“Here?” Zoe obviously found the idea laughable. “I don’t think so. This is my home—I never mix business with pleasure.”
Chloe wanted to protest that her twin’s business was pleasure, or something like it anyway, but Zoe was already pushing towards the front door and shoving the keys to her Jaguar and directions to her “office” into her twin’s trembling hand.
“Now this should be very easy,” she was saying. “The client doesn’t want too much rough treatment—I know because I screened him on the phone. All you have to do is chain him to the Saint Andrew’s cross and make him call you ‘Mistress’.”
“Chain him to the what?”
“Then just tease him a little,” Zoe went on, ignoring the question. “Use some feathers or maybe one of the lighter whips. Don’t worry,” she said, before Chloe could protest again. “Everything is hanging neatly on pegs in the dungeon room. And yes, you’ll figure out what room that is the minute you get there. If you hurry, you’ll have a little time to get acclimated before he arrives.”
“But…but…” Chloe was suddenly realizing that she was committed to doing this crazy thing and she didn’t know the first thing about how to go about it. “Wait a minute, Zoe, I just don’t know—”
“Don’t wimp out on me now—you promised.” Zoe glared at her. “Now listen, I’m going to give you the three rules of being a dominatrix—follow them faithfully and you’ll be fine.”
“Three rules?” Chloe was halfway out the door, wobbling crazily on the high boots and feeling more exposed than she could ever remember being in her entire life.
“One,” Zoe said, counting them off on her long, scarlet-tipped fingers. “Don’t lose control of the encounter. You’re the boss and you better damn well let the client know it the minute he walks in the door.”
“But how do I—?” Chloe protested.
“Two,” Zoe continued relentlessly, cutting her off. “Don’t ever have sex with the client, no matter how tempted you are.”
Chloe shuddered. “You don’t have to worry about me breaking that rule. But how—?”
“Three.” And now Zoe was actually physically pushing her out the door. “Don’t take off the mask.”
“Why not?” Chloe finally managed to get a word in edgewise, just as the door was almost closed in her face. Zoe peered at her through the crack in the door with an impatient frown.
“Just don’t. The mask lends distance and gives you authority. If you take it off, you’ll be giving up your psychological advantage—giving him the upper hand. Getting too close. Remember, this is a professional encounter, not a romantic interlude. He’ll be wearing one too, by the way.”
“One what?” Chloe asked stupidly, feeling like her mouth was too dry to talk.
“A mask!” Zoe said and slammed the door in her face. Then she opened it a tiny crack to say, “You’d better hurry, you know. It’s eight forty-five and you can’t be late if you want to keep the upper hand—Mistress Sensua.”
Chapter Two
The upper hand! I’ve got to keep the upper hand, Chloe remembered. Rule number one was never lose control of the situation. But in order to lose it, she’d have to get it in the first place, she reminded herself.
“Good evening, Mister Jacobs, um, I mean, Mark.” She drew herself up to the full height afforded by the boots while mentally kicking herself. A frantic cell phone call to Zoe during the drive to the “office” had gotten her the client’s name, but she wasn’t sure if a real dominatrix would have used it or not. Should she have called him “slave” instead?
Luckily, the client didn’t seem to mind her little informality. “Good evening, Mistress,” he said softly. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a very long time.” He stepped forward, crowding her, getting in her space.
Chloe could smell his aftershave—something spicy and dangerous, just like the blue eyes that stared down at her from the black leather mask. The mask covered his eyes and the sides of his face, but left his mouth and nose free, as the one she was wearing did.
“So, how exactly is this supposed to go?” he asked. He was looking at her and Chloe had the feeling he was raising one eyebrow sardonically behind the black leather. Suddenly she knew what he was doing. He was taking control of the situation away from her before they even got started. Rule number one was about to be broken and they hadn’t even gotten through the door yet!
She lifted her hand and felt the cool brush of feathers against her fingertips as she straightened her mask. It seemed to give her courage. Chloe took a deep breath and stepped forward, looking the client in the eye.
“I’ll tell you how this is going to go,” she said in a low, stern voice she barely recognized as her own. “It’s going to go exactly how I say it should go. So get inside and…and assume the position!” She didn’t know where she had gotten that—maybe Clan of the Cave Bear? But it seemed to have the desired result.
“Yes, Mistress.” The deep voice was a little more respectful this time. Chloe felt a surge of triumph as she slammed the door shut. She turned to see the large man—she supposed she might as well keep calling him Mark—leaning with his hands against the wall of the front hallway. He had his arms and legs spread like a man waiting to be frisked by the police.
Abruptly her triumph turned to despair. Now that she had him in this position, what in the world was she supposed to do with him? Mark seemed to be wondering too. He turned his head to look at her and his direct blue eyes seemed to ask, Well?
“Face the wall!” Chloe barked, feeling like a twisted sort of drill sergeant. She could see this client was going to be a lot more trouble than Zoe had foreseen. If she gave him any room at all he was going to ride roughshod over her, exactly the way all of the other blind dates her twin set her up on had. Just the thought of all those alpha male assholes gave Chloe a shot of much-needed confidence. This time she had the upper hand. It might even be fun—if she could figure out what the hell she was supposed to do.
Well, she decided, staring at the broad shoulders of the man currently spread against the wall, he was in the position to be frisked, so she might as well frisk him. Would that establish her authority? She certainly hoped so.
She stood on her tiptoes to reach him, starting at the firmly muscled arms and working her way down. She could smell his aftershave again, along with a natural musk that must be just him. Was he nervous enough to sweat? If so, she might be doing better than she’d thought.
“So,” she said, hoping she was doing a thorough job of searching him. “Did, uh, did you bring any toys with you tonight, Mark?”
“If I did, I’m sure you’ll find them.” His low voice still sounded a little too amused for Chloe’s taste. If he was still making wisecracks, she wasn’t in control of the situation.
She tried to think what Zoe would have done. Maybe if she couldn’t scare him into submission, she could get his attention some other way.
Chloe stopped the brisk patting search she has been doing and let her hands linger on the broad chest in front of her instead. She wondered briefly if Mark had a smooth or hairy chest. Why not find out? A good question—wasn’t she the one in charge here?
Since his back was to her front Chloe had to practically plaster herself against his wide back in order to unbutton his crisp dress shirt, but somehow she didn’t mind. From his low, masculine groan that her action had elicited, she assumed Mark didn’t mind either. His spicy, dangerous scent filled her head as she spread the shirt to find a smooth, muscular chest leading down to powerfully sculpted abs. She wonder
ed what line of work Mark was in. Whatever it was, he certainly kept himself in shape.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Mistress?” His smart-ass tone threw her, breaking her concentration on his muscled chest.
“I’ll ask the questions,” Chloe snapped, deciding abruptly that it was time to move on. She still felt a definite lack of control in this situation and it made her nervous, shattering the fragile self-confidence she’d managed to build. But she couldn’t stop searching him now or he’d be the winner of this little confrontation.
She let her hands slide lower, past the waistband of his pants to the bulging crotch. Oh my God, is he for real? She hadn’t been with very many men—okay, two. She’d only been with two other men. But Mark more than measured up to any other guy in her experience. In fact, she could barely believe what she was feeling was real. It was a damn good thing rule number two was “never have sex with the client”. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t have been able to handle what Mark was packing.
“Uh, Mistress, that’s all me, not a toy.” Mark’s deep voice still held a hint of amusement though it was sounding rather strained now. “And you might want to think of it less as a ‘toy’ than a loaded gun. One that’s going to go off if you’re not careful.”
Chloe felt a deep blush heat her cheeks. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said before she could stop herself. Then she mentally kicked herself again. A real dominatrix would never apologize, would she? A real dominatrix would know what she was doing. A real dominatrix wouldn’t let her client fluster her so much that she lost the upper hand…
Apparently Mark had the same idea. Abruptly, he turned to face her and Chloe found her wrists caught firmly but gently in his large, warm hands.
“What—?” she began, but he cut her off.
“This is all very amusing, Mistress,” he rumbled. “But it isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I made this appointment.”
“But…but I don’t understand.” Chloe’s voice sounded weak and indecisive, even to her. She struggled against his grip, but she might as well have been struggling against a pair of steel handcuffs. He held her effortlessly, a small smile playing around his full mouth. But the direct blue eyes behind the black mask were like laser beams in their intensity.
“There’s nothing to understand.” He started walking through the townhouse that doubled as Zoe’s office as though he owned it and knew the layout very well. Chloe had no choice but to follow him since he still had her firmly by the wrists.
Rule number one—you’re breaking rule number one! Quick, say something—get back control of the situation before it’s too late.
Chloe tried, she really did. “Let go of me!” she fumed in what she hoped was an authoritative voice. But Mark just laughed at her.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I’m through playing things your way. It’s my turn to run the show.”
“Why you…you…” Chloe couldn’t think of anything bad enough to call him. As she was being dragged behind him, she noticed that his hair was as black as the mask he wore and that it was cut short at the nape of his neck. That was nice, she didn’t like men with hair that was too long. Also, he had a nice, tight ass…
Wait a minute, what am I thinking? This man, this Mark Jacobs, had completely turned the tables on her. Zoe’s rule number one was shot to hell and if she didn’t get control of herself, rule number two might be quick to follow. Chloe’s head was spinning as he led her down the hall to a door at the far end.
“In here.” His deep voice still sounded amused but his grip on her arms was unyielding.
Chloe couldn’t help gasping aloud when she saw he had led her to the dungeon room. She had barely had a chance to poke her head in this room before Mark had knocked at the front door. Now it looked like she was going to get a much more intimate view of it.
The floor was carpeted in a deep black and the walls were a stark white in contrast. They could have been painted fuchsia, though, for all the difference it made. Almost every square inch of wall space was devoted to different erotic tools and devices. Everywhere Chloe looked there were whips, canes, paddles, even hairbrushes. There were also various restraints including masks, ball gags and some things she didn’t even have a name for.
The sight of so much foreign equipment, much of it obviously used for pain as much as pleasure, finally broke Chloe’s nerve. “Please,” she gasped, uselessly tugging at her arms. “Please, what are you going to do to me? Please, don’t hurt me.”
“Oh, hey.” He abruptly stopped dragging her and turned to face her, taking her shoulders in his hands. He bent down to get a better look into her eyes. “I would never hurt you, don’t you know that?” he asked, his deep voice a soft rumble.
“I don’t know anything,” Chloe protested. “I don’t know anything about you.”
“That’s all right.” He bent lower and placed a soft, closed-mouth kiss on her trembling lips. “You’re about to find out. Come on.”
He pulled her towards the large, wooden frame shaped like a capital X which she supposed must be the Saint Andrew’s cross Zoe had talked about. At all four corners of the X were restraints made of supple but strong-looking black leather.
“Please,” Chloe tried to protest once more as he buckled her wrists to the top part of the cross. “Please, Mark…”
“No.” He shook his head decisively and stopped for a moment to look into her eyes. “From now on, you can call me ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’, but my real name is off-limits to you until I say differently. Understand?”
Chloe looked at him blankly for a moment and he got even closer, so close she could smell peppermint on his breath and the warm musk of his big body.
“I said, do you understand?” he asked, his voice low and stern.
Slowly, Chloe nodded her head.
“I can’t hear you,” her new master said softly. “Answer me out loud.”
“Yes,” Chloe whispered.
“Yes, what?” he prompted.
“Yes, Master,” she said, her voice shaking.
* * * * *
Chloe could scarcely wrap her mind around the predicament she currently found herself in. She was no longer even remotely in control of the situation. Zoe had sent her into the lion’s den and she had no idea if she would come out again in one piece.
He said he wouldn’t hurt me. Yes, but she didn’t know anything about him. How did she know he could be trusted? He was a strange man and he had her chained to a wooden whipping post. At least he had chained her facing the room instead of the wall so she could see what was going on, but that was a very small comfort indeed.
The only person who knew she was here was Zoe, who was probably propped up on her satin sheets reading the latest cheesy romance and eating bonbons. I should have known better than to do this, should have known better than to switch with her tonight! Chloe had to admit that the situation she found herself in now was infinitely worse than being up on stage in front of the entire student body trying to recite a monologue she didn’t know.
“There.” His voice woke her from the almost trancelike state that had taken hold of her mind and Chloe realized he had just finished buckling her ankles to the cross with the soft leather restraints. He’d been kneeling by her feet and she should have taken the opportunity to kick him in the head and scream for help, but she’d been too caught up in her thoughts to notice and she had missed her chance. Great going, Chloe. Just let the guy strap you in while you do nothing to prevent it!
“Relax.” Mark stood and dusted his hands together briefly, as though finishing a hard job and then smiled at her. He stripped off the black suit jacket along with his tie and the crisp, white dress shirt which Chloe herself had already unbuttoned. He hung the jacket, tie and shirt neatly on a peg that also housed a long, wicked-looking riding crop and turned to face her, bare-chested.
“Now what…Master?” Chloe was quick to add when she saw the slight frown on his face.
“Now you’ll get a taste of your own medicine,
sweetheart.” He came closer, and Chloe thought he looked even larger now that he was wearing nothing but the black dress pants and the black leather mask. The muscles in his chest bunched and flexed as he moved and she could see that she had been wrong—it wasn’t completely smooth after all. There was a light dusting of coarse, black, curling hair between the flat copper disks of his nipples. It led down his flat stomach in a narrow trail, past his abs and disappeared into the waistband of his pants.
“Do you like what you see?” He stepped forward, giving her that white, frightening smile. “Because I know I do.”
“Wait!” Chloe said desperately as he stepped even closer. “Wait, you don’t understand. I’m not supposed to be here! This is all a big mistake—”
“Shh.” He placed a warm finger against her lips and shook his head slowly. “No more talking unless I tell you to. Not unless you want me to use a gag. And you don’t want that, do you, sweetheart?”
“N-no,” Chloe stuttered. “I mean, no, Master.”
“That’s better.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand and for some reason the gentle touch sent a shiver down her spine. To her surprise, Chloe could feel her nipples hardening inside the black leather bustier. Surely this wasn’t turning her on—was it?
“This is the way it’s going to be,” Mark continued, still stroking her cheek. “We’re going to play a little game, have a little fun together. But I’m not going to hurt you, and I’m not going to make love to you unless you ask me to.”
“M-make love?” Chloe actually felt faint. Rule number one was down the drain and now he was talking about rule number two. What was she going to do?
“That’s right, make love.” He traced a slow, ticklish line of warmth down her cheek to the sensitive side of her neck. “Maybe you think of it differently, I don’t know. But I’m not here for a quick fuck.” His hand slid lower, caressing the heaving tops of her breasts and Chloe felt like he was trailing a line of fire over her exposed flesh.
“If I take you,” he continued in that deep, maddeningly reasonable voice. “It will be long and slow and utterly unstoppable.” He bent to brush a kiss against her neck, sending warm shivers down her back. “I’ll spread your legs and fill you. Pin you to the bed and ride you until you come all over my cock.”
Masks Page 2
