Submissive's Journey (Masters of Blackstone Book 1), page 6
Everett joined Maxwell on his side of the desk so he’d have a full view of all the screens. “What's happening here, brother? Looks like you have the city well covered.”
♥ ♥ ♥
Julia pulled into the parking lot of Community Central, glad to see cars. The storm warning hadn’t scared off this group. “That’s because we’re all desperate for a kinky New Year’s date.”
She raced into the locker room of what used to be a fitness center. It still reeked from years of accumulated sweat, even though the new owners renovated before converting the space to a BDSM club. She hung up her coat, jerked the sweater dress off and folded it before putting it into a locker, then tossed her purse and phone inside as well. She peeked in the full length mirror before stepping into the club. Her light pink strapless body shaper added a little fullness to both boobs and butt; however, being embellished with fine embroidery in pastel shades, no one would guess she was wearing it for more reasons than it was beautiful and complimented her dark olive skin tone perfectly.
With more confidence than she was feeling, she strode through the foyer to the main doors. A bouncer didn’t smile or speak, he just opened the door and allowed her entry. She stopped just inside the main room to scan the scenes in play and a darkly sensual beat surrounded her. The almost somber night’s music felt thick and warm. Seeing a few subs she recognized as regulars, she hurried over at an area marked for single subs to watch a scene being performed on the main stage. Shibari. Good. Relaxing, she exhaled. The nice thing about rope performances was that knots took time and the bare-chested rigger was creating an intricate and beautiful pattern, which would prolong the scene. The captivated audience of single subs was testimony to his popularity, although he was a tad too arrogant for Julia’s taste. No one would think she looked out of place at all, even if she just sat and watched until the scene was over
The rigger was saying, “For some, the helplessness of being bound offers the purest state of submission in that it requires complete trust. There is no escape, only acceptance they have no control in the situation. This allows the submissive to completely let go and enjoy something very taboo.”
Hearing a woman cry out in surprise, Julia turned to see one of the single submissives bent over a man’s knee. It was highly unusual for a scene to happen in the submissive’s area. Julia wasn’t certain but she believed it was a club rule that all scenes take place within designated zones. If so, the dominant was committing a huge faux pas.
With the submissive’s skirt raised and her panties pulled down, her bare bottom was completely exposed. There was no way to completely ignore them. Julia tried not to stare at the thick trail of wetness glistening on the woman’s labia. The submissive sounded very unhappy about getting her bottom reddened; but nope, she lifted her head and winked at Julia.
Holding her wrists crossed at the base of her back with his left hand, he delivered the strikes with his bare right hand. The dominant clearly knew how to deliver a sound spanking. His hand travelled in a clockwise pattern, circling both cheeks and radiating inward so that the subs bottom became a deep rosy pink within just a few minutes. Julia kept her eyes on the stage, but the shibari master just couldn’t compete with the seasoned Dom beside her.
Slap, slap, slap.
The submissive was panting.
Slap, slap, slap.
She squealed, telling Julia and anyone else in earshot that those strikes had been the hardest so far. “Please, Sir! Please!”
“Are you begging for me to spank you harder, pet?”
“Nooo, please no harder, Sir!”
Julia shifted in her seat, surprised to be feeling so turned on by the scene playing out only a few feet away. She glanced up and unintentionally met the gaze of the dominant delivering the spanking. Her gaze jerked back down, but not until after seeing the man smile arrogantly. She just knew he could tell she was turned on by what he was doing to the woman across his lap. Julia blushed and forced her gaze back to the rigger onstage, but her ears were completely tuned in to the couple beside her.
“If not harder blows, what could you possibly be begging for?”
“Let me come, Sir. Please let me come!”
Orgasm? Julia thought. Could that woman truly be on the verge of coming just from being spanked?
Peripherally, she saw the man’s hand rise and fall.
Slap, slap, slap.
The submissive started keening and begging. The dominant warned, “Don’t you come without permission.”
“Oh god! Sir! I don’t want to fail you.”
“Then don’t.”
The man was big and older, the woman younger and frail next to his girth. The combination suddenly assailed Julia with memories. The darker ones she’d believed banished forever through hypnosis creeped around the outer edges, trying to gain strength. She took a deep breath. No, no, no! Not now. Think happy thoughts. Think calm blue waves with dolphins dancing in the surf.
Her mental redirect came too late, the man’s fast rhythmic slaps already triggering an image of her being bound to a table. Ocean! Ocean! Calm blue fucking ocean!
The woman screamed, “Please, Sir!”
“Come now! Or else I will be forced to punish you severely for crying wolf.” His hand descended, clipping her just under her ass cheeks with an upward stroke. Julia could only guess that a shock wave of pure pleasure rippled through the sub’s pussy because her screams of rapture filled the space.
Julia focused on the stage but not before she noticed two dominants approaching her. Both were tall, fake blonde and faker tanned. She’d bet her week’s paycheck the two spent more on hair products than she did. The taller of the two demanded, “Have you been naughty girl too?”
She didn’t meet his gaze, instead keeping her eyes on the rope rigger. “No, Sir. I’ve been a very good girl.”
The shorter one commanded in a thick accent that let her know he wasn’t from around Cincinnati, “Address the master properly when you speak.”
She didn’t. “He isn’t my master. I’m not here to negotiate a scene; I’m just here for the meet and greet that starts at eight.”
The tallest bragged, “Scene with us. You won’t want to meet or greet anyone else,” And she noticed his accent was just as thick as his companion’s.
Us? The two of them?
A third blond, seeming cut from the same mold as the first two, was heading her direction with intent. Her heart started racing. “The two of you?”
“No, the three of us. I’m going to start by punishing that sweet ass of yours.” The newcomer, and biggest of the three, reached for her, but she scrambled out of her seat and backed away.
She felt a small tremble starting in her arms as remembered images flashed in her mind. Nothing strong enough to latch onto, but increasing her anxiety ten-fold. “I’m not doing a scene with you.”
“No sub says no to three holes filled same time,” the short one informed her in his broken English.
The bigger one kept coming, reaching for her a second time. The two behind him were laughing. Eyes wide, she insisted, “I’m saying no!”
The bad scene in her head kept growing. Bound tight, in so much pain she was sure she was going to pass out, and then wanting to pass out, begging her brain to flee the moment as the five men surrounded her. They’d laughed too.
“RED!”
“No, no, sub. We play.
She took off running toward the changing room and their laughter followed her.
Darker laughter echoed through her memories.
Her hands shook as she fumbled with the lock on her locker. She grabbed her purse, phone and coat and juggled it all as she fled the club still pulling on the off-shoulder sweater dress. She was out of the club and standing in the cold before she could even process a clear thought. She fumbled for her keys. “Get in the car. Just get in. Get in!”
She slid behind the steering wheel, slammed the door, and locked it. “Fuck! Fucking fuckers!”
A tap on her window almost made her piss herself. As it was, she screamed, but then saw a DM she recognized from past nights raise his hands and take a step backward. “Are you alright, Julia?”
Still shaking, she focused on breathing as she rolled down her window a small amount. “I’m okay, Master Joe.”
“Want to tell me what happened?”
“Three blonde men just kept advancing on me even after I told them I didn’t want to negotiate a scene. I’ve never seen them here before.”
He nodded, not looking happy about what he was hearing. “If you come in and give me a written statement, it will be the second tonight. A third will get them barred from the club. I promise to stay with you and walk you back to the room where we’re set up for the single’s meet and greet when you’re finished.”
“You know, the roads are almost covered in snow. I think I’m just going to head home.”
“I really need you to fill out a complaint. Look at you, you’re shaking like a leaf. I don’t like the idea of you driving right now.”
Julia shook her head. “I’m not filling anything out.”
He lowered his voice. “Come inside, Julia. I won’t leave your side.”
“Please go inside, Master Joe. I’m not ready.”
♥ ♥ ♥
The serious look on Maxwell’s face, something was happening.
It wasn’t unusual to find Maxwell staring up at one of the feeds from a client’s home or business if an alarm came, but this was something more. Trevor looked closer, then moved to block Maxwell’s line of sight. Hand’s on his hips, he challenged, “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have a GPS tracker on Julia’s car? Jesus, Maxwell! Spying on her? Seriously? Is Julia why Everett is suddenly in town?”
“Don’t even start in on me, Trevor. I’m her protector. You’re the one who caused this by not telling me what she’s been up to!” Maxwell stood and leaned to see around him. “Move! Julia panicked and there’s no god damn sound.”
“Jesus! Stalking is illegal, not to mention you are invading the privacy of a woman who trusts you.”
“I won’t ask you to move again.”
Trevor moved aside, shaking his head. Yes, he’d concealed Julia’s exploration, but he’d understood she wanted to figure out her sexuality on her own. He’d just never considered he’d be covering for her for an entire year and his conscience was weighing on him. So, completely his fault. Now, he knew his flesh didn’t stand a chance when Maxwell decided it was time to collect. “Is that one of the security camera’s you installed in the Community Center?’
Maxwell growled. “Why did I not put cameras in the changing rooms?”
All Trevor could do was stare at him like he was someone he didn’t even know.
Everett asked, “Is that the only point of egress?”
Maxwell panned between cameras.
Everett pointed, “Wait. Go back.”
“I am not party to this and when Julia learns, you will tell her I tried to stop you.” Trevor stormed from the room, but not before he heard Maxwell say, “There she is, coming out.”
Everett crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the woman, he’d last seen clinging to a casket, pull her dress down over her body as she took long strides through what looked to be a foyer to a fitness center. She had the longest legs he’d ever seen. He forced himself to keep his face neutral. “Who spooked her?”
“Three men I didn’t recognize but I caught their images to run through a facial recognition program.”
“They’re in the local group and you don’t know them?
“I don’t know any of the new ones coming in through the novice classes. Too many pass through to keep track of, and honestly I’ve had no need to pay attention to them before now. She told me she was done with the lifestyle,” Maxwell admitted. They lost sight of her when she fled the front entrance, not bothering to pull her coat on.
“Clearly, she isn’t.”
Maxwell toggled between cameras until he caught a long view of her running through the slushy mess the parking lot. It looked like her thigh high boots risked being ruined as water from slushy gray puddles splashed up. “Jesus, she’s going to fall and break her bloody neck.”
Everett demanded, “Is there a closer camera?”
“No.”
Even from a distance they could tell she was struggling. It looked like she’d aimed her key three times before finally getting her door unlocked. That made Everett mad. She needed a remote fob with one click entry, lock, and panic buttons. “Why does she not have new vehicle?”
“She won’t accept gifts,” Maxwell growled, telling Everett he’d hit upon a sore subject. Maxwell bellowed, “Trevor!”
His partner answered from the doorway, “No need to shout.”
“Eavesdropping? On top of everything else, boy?” A hard look passed between the two men. Everett couldn’t help but wonder how long their relationship had been strained and how big a role Julia had added to the fissure. Maxwell commanded, “Call Julia. Get her ass here. I can’t talk to her right now.”
“No one touched her, right?” Trevor assured softly, “Please relax. She’s fine, but you need to calm down before you have another stroke.”
“I'm her protector. How can I keep her safe if she is doing shit behind my back?”
“You said stroke?” Everett turned to face Maxwell. “Way to keep me in the loop.”
“A small one. Minor.” Maxwell waved away his concern, downplaying its significance. “Julia doesn’t know either.”
“Jesus, I shouldn’t have told you anything. You won’t take care of yourself and she’s never going to forgive me this betrayal.”
“Wrong answer, Trevor. Telling me immediately, the day she asked you to help her get accepted into the novice group, would have been the right answer, waiting so long is inexcusable. Why aren’t you calling yet?”
Trevor lifted his phone, displaying the call log and a half dozen tries. “It’s going to voicemail.”
A man followed her from the club and a jealous knot formed in Everett’s gut, his brain already envisioning her with the other man. Maxwell had clearly lost all control of his sub and his ward. He seethed, “Who is he?”
Maxwell shook his head, clearly having no idea, and that was unacceptable.
Trevor glanced at the screen. “Joe Carson, one of the regular DM’s. He’s probably making certain she is safe to drive. He’ll convince her to return to the club, get her something to drink, and find out what upset her.” Trevor hurried to reassure him, “She isn’t involved with him. Or anyone.”
Everett still didn’t like it. The thought of another Dom giving her comfort made his blood boil. Ever since Maxwell’s call, he’d been thinking what it might be like to finally have a sub to call his own. If anyone asked, he would deny it; but ever since seeing the intoxicatingly beautiful woman at her master’s funeral, he’d been obsessed with Julia.
The three watched the animated movements of both Joe and Julia, but then Joe walked back to the club alone. Maxwell demanded, “What just happened? Damn it Trevor, why don’t you have her on the phone yet?”
“Her hands are still shaking.” Everett moved closer to the wall mounted screen, wishing he could crawl through it and be transported to her side. “She’s calling someone now. Probably you. She will want you to know she is in no shape to drive. Why is she at a club unescorted?”
He met Maxwell’s gaze and the man glared back at him, but in no way intimidated him. He didn’t look away until Maxwell dropped his gaze first. Maxwell looked at his cell and frowned, then lifted a cell from one of his desk drawers. “She’s not calling me.”
“You mirrored her phone?” Trevor demanded incredulously. “Are you shitting me? Maxwell!”
Everett lifted his fist and stilled. Trevor and Maxwell went as silent as if they were approaching an enemy. That's when they heard her voice speaking so softly. “I'm a failure. I couldn't do it.”
Silent pause. He demanded, “Who did she call?”
Maxwell looked as the mirrored-phone’s screen. “Skye, her best friend. Skype. We have video and audio.”
He moved the phone’s image onto the largest wall screen. The image of a pretty blonde bounced, exposing her bare breasts with every other step. She was walking fast. She finally stopped moving and looked directly at the screen. She sounded sincerely concerned when she explained, “Sorry, babe. There were too many ears for this conversation, but it’s all good now. I’m in my bedroom. What happened? You were so confident.”
“The same thing that happens every single time. I freaked out! This was the twelfth meet and greet and so far I haven’t negotiated a single scene. I have to face facts. I can't keep blaming the Doms. I know Trevor said they're all baby dominants who haven't figured themselves out, but what if it's me? What if I'm the problem? All through college, I complained the vanilla guys were more immature than kindergarteners, but now here I go again. Bitching and complaining. Now, every fucking dominant that gets within a few feet exudes eau de school-yard-bully. What if Master broke me?”
Skye shifted and a flash of pierced nipple made it immediately apparent she was still naked. Everett guessed, “A submissive from the club?”
“Ah, no.” Maxwell explained, “I’m not even certain she’s in the lifestyle. She isn’t usually naked when she calls, so I’d guess she’s home for the holidays. Her hippie parent’s raised her in a nudist commune. From what I’ve gathered, clothes are forbidden in her childhood home.”
Everett narrowed his gaze, too many questions circling his brain, but shook them all off and focused on the words as Skye assured Julia, “I don’t think he broke you; but damn girl, he gave you some serious issues.”
“You said it. Do you think there is any way to fix me?”
Skye shrugged. “An hour ago I’d have said yes. Do you get horny?”
“Of course.” Julia turned in her seat to wipe her damp boots off with a cloth that she apparently had in the car for just such emergencies. Her hands were still trembling as she wiped and dried the wettest spots on the suede. “I was fine, then three goons all came at me at the same time. They told me they wanted to fill all of my holes.”
