Embracing My Submission (3 page)

Filled with longing, I watched their exchange. I was happy she was able to fulfill her submission but secretly wished I could be Dahlia for an hour or two. Lost in fantasy, I failed to notice that James and Tony had abandoned me. They’d veered off in different directions to help monitor the dungeon’s activities. Feeling alone and a little vulnerable, I made my way toward the bar.

Skimming my eyes over the crowd in hopes of catching a glimpse of Jordon, I paused, taking in all the sights. Submissive bodies were stretched taut and secure against numerous St. Andrew’s Crosses. Others were tethered to wooden suspension frames, kneeling on the carpet, or laid out on long, padded tables. Their Doms and Domme’s administered everything from soothing cupping to wicked, stinging whips. They all looked spectacular in their submission.

So many vibrations hummed through the air, it was hard to absorb them all. The low static crackle of violet wands interspersed with laughter and cries of pain. Being surrounded by like-minded people who shared the same desires comforted and soothed me.

A grateful smile spread across my lips as Mistress Sammie placed a soda on the bar. I smoothed down my billowing corset skirt and slid onto a padded barstool. Handing her the guest list, I took a long drink. “Thank you, Mistress.”

Sammie, a petite blonde Domme with shimmering pale blue eyes and ample breasts that barely remained harnessed beneath a black leather corset, smiled and nodded. Her thin legs were firmly sheathed within glossy red leather pants, and how she managed to walk, let alone work in her trademark five-inch stilettos, constantly blew my mind.

“It’s busy tonight. Do you need any help behind the bar?”

“No, honey. You go enjoy yourself. You’ve already worked the door. Get out there and mingle. I’ve got it all under control.” Refilling my cup, she smiled broadly, her bright red lips glistening beneath the recessed lighting above the bar.

“I think I’ll do that. Have you seen Daddy Drake?”

Pointing across the room to a large St. Andrew’s Cross, she issued a wicked laugh. “Poor Trevor is getting his ass fired up. He was tied here all night, worrying his nut-sack about what Drake had in store. I wish I wasn’t working. I’d offer to help out.” The anxiousness in her voice made me shiver.

“I think you big bad Dom’s just live and breathe to gang up on us poor innocent subs,” I teased with a low giggle.

“The day you’re innocent is the day I’m a virgin.” Sammie laughed heartily. “Trust me, girl, it wouldn’t take much for a few of us big bad Dom’s to gang up on you. You just keep claiming innocence and see what happens.” She gave me an evil grin.

“Yikes!” A nervous giggle escaped my lips as I jumped up from the barstool.

Sammie was the only Dominant Drake ever allowed to play with me. The two had been friends for years, and Sammie was his valued confidant. That trust made it easy for me to submit to her. She was always tender yet firm. Everything she introduced me to was through physical sensation and not mental control. From the soft tickle of a feather to the stinging bite of a Dragon’s Tongue, she gleaned great pleasure in slowly ratcheting up my repressed orgasms. Amplifying every sensation until she reduced me to pitifully begging through my tears, she’d keep me suspended on the cusp of release. It always amazed me how she could coax so many earth-shattering orgasms from me.

At first, I was nervous about having a woman touch me. But I soon grew to love her feminine Dominance. She was like leather and lace: rough and demanding in a devilish but delicate way.

Watching all the Doms and subs, I once again began to feel bitter. Determined to nip it in the bud, I reminded myself to count my blessings.

Turning my attention to the cross Trevor was cuffed to, I watched, captivated, as Drake’s whip trailed wicked red welts upon Trevor’s already reddened and striped butt cheeks. Trevor’s back arched, and he choked out a tormented cry as Drake intently watched his slave and lover accept his castigation. His focus was fixed, and he was attuned to his slender, ivory-skinned slave boy cuffed to the wooden frame. As Trevor’s body slumped forward, his head and shoulders drooped between the deep
V
at the top of the cross. His shoulder blades nearly touched as his arms bore the weight of his body and his desperate cries of pain filled the dungeon. My heart clutched in helplessness.

Trevor wasn’t just a submissive brother, he was my closest friend. I ached to help him, but there was nothing I could do. Clueless to what dreadful transgression he’d committed to warrant Drake’s vicious punishment, all I could do was watch and cringe.

I drew in a quivering breath as Drake lowered the whip and stepped forward, gripping a handful of Trevor’s long blond hair in his paw-like hand. Pulling his slave’s head back, Drake murmured something into the wailing man’s ear then languidly swiped his tongue up Trevor’s neck. Stopping briefly to nibble his ear, Drake began seducing away the pain from his sobbing boy. I watched him lick Trevor’s lips, which opened readily, and the two men shared a sweltering, erotic kiss that brought a tender smile to my lips. I was awed at the control in which Drake brought his lover down from the edge with tenderness, compassion, and love. Trevor gave his all without reservation. With total acceptance. With absolute devotion. Unconditional love. In my eyes, Trevor was submission personified.

A tear of admiration blurred my vision. As soon as Trevor regained his composure, Drake stepped back and began arching the whip high into the air.

Engrossed in the tantalizing scene, I took two steps forward and promptly ran tits-first into Sir Jordon. His massive, hard chest was like a wall. The soda in my cup slopped like a tiny cresting wave, spilling over my hand and onto the floor.

“Whoa. Hold on a minute. Where are you going in such a hurry, beauty?”

Electricity raced through my body as Jordon’s erotic voice rumbled from his massive chest, vibrating against my tender nipples. I wobbled precariously on my high heels as his strong fingers clutched my waist. His touch was firm and unrelenting as he continued to hold me in place not only with his hands, but also with his hypnotic eyes. My mind filled with images of those strong, capable hands gripping my shoulders while his shaft thrust deep into my weeping sex. Oh, God! Not only did I drench him with my soda, I just drenched my panties, too. Damn.

“Oh!” I gasped in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Sir. I didn’t...I wasn’t watching where I was...did I spill any on you?” Mortified, I shook the wet soda off my hand.

“No, sweet girl, you didn’t. Are you all right? Can I get you a napkin?” His alluring eyes sparkled with invitation.

My nipples screamed painfully as another rush of cream saturated the small strip of cloth between my legs. Granny panties couldn’t have captured the torrent gushing from my barren pussy, let alone the scant G-string I wore.

“No, Sir. I’m so sorry,” I whispered as my face burned in a combination of arousal and embarrassment.

“Nothing to be sorry for, girl. No damage done.” Looking at the cup in my hand, he frowned. “I think you need to get your owner another drink, though.”

“Oh no, Sir...it’s not for...it’s mine,” I stammered, nibbling on my bottom lip and casting my eyes to the floor. Damn it. Why did he continue to assume I had an owner? I couldn’t very well blurt out that I was the odd sub out. I’d made a big enough fool of myself.

“Raise your eyes, girl. Tell me, where is your owner?”

Following his instructions, I pensively gazed into his erotic, cerulean eyes, certain he’d heard me swallow the basketball-sized lump lodged in my throat. Hell, even Drake, clear across the dungeon, cracking his whip, could have heard it.
Gawd, can you make a bigger fool of yourself?
Suddenly the soda slipped through my wet fingers and landed with a heavy thud on the floor.

“Oh shit!” I gasped. Great. Just great. I cussed in his face loud and clear. Could I fuck this up any more than I already had? Obviously I could because I just did. Tears burned my eyes as I lowered my head. I couldn’t look at him. Terrified repugnance at my foul mouth and clumsy incompetence would be reflecting in his eyes. I did the only thing I could do. I turned and ran to the bar.

“Mistress Sammie. I spilled my soda.” I wiped away the tears cresting over my lashes before they spilled down my cheeks.

“Emerald? Why on earth would spilling your drink make you cry?” Sammie’s eyes narrowed in concern as she instructed Joe, her bar helper, to get the mop and towels. With so many members wearing high-heeled stilettos, it was paramount the spill get cleaned and dried immediately. “Where is the spill, honey?”

“There!” I pointed toward the tiled section of the floor where I’d made an absolute fool of myself. I couldn’t look up. I didn’t want to see Jordon running for the front door screaming in horror at my totally un-submissive first impression.

“I got it,” Joe called as he rounded the bar.

“Do you want another drink?” Sammie asked in a combination of confusion and concern.

“No, Ma’am.”

“So why the tears? It’s just a spilled soda, and Joe’s getting it taken care of. It’s no big deal. Why has that upset you so much?”

“I don’t know. I’m being stupid.” I sniffed and dabbed my eyes with a bar napkin. “Can I please have Daddy’s key? I want to go back and set up for Trevor’s aftercare.”

“Sure honey. Do you need to talk about anything?” Sammie pressed as she handed me the key.

“No, Ma’am.” I shook my head as I accepted it. “Thank you.”

Confessing my
faux pas
, even to Sammie, was humiliating and infuriating. I could feel my anger bubbling inside like a superfluous volcano. I needed time to try and cool off. Without looking back, I raced toward the private rooms. The narrow hallway was empty, void even of security staff. My fingers trembled as I plunged the key into the lock. Opening the door, I flipped on the light. The familiar surroundings of Drake’s private room began to soothe my agitation.

Folding down the heavy spread from the king-sized bed, I shook my head. “Damn it! I finally find a Dom that intrigues me and I go and make a total ass out of myself. Priceless! God, I’m such an idiot.” I sighed heavily, pulling down the soft cotton sheets, talking to myself like a mad woman.

“He probably thinks I’m a ditz. A certifiable loon. And why shouldn’t he? I’ve just confirmed the obvious...I’m worthless. No wonder I can’t find a fucking Dom.”

Fighting back tears, I set Drake’s favorite lube and a six-pack of condoms on top of a towel next to the bed. “And if I don’t stop acting like a dork, I’ll never find a Dom. Like there’s a chance in hell of that in the first place. I’m so stupid. Shit.”

I exhaled a heavy sigh as my shoulder sagged in defeat. “And swearing in front of him, now that’s ripe.”

The more I chastised myself, the angrier I got. Setting four squares of milk chocolate next to the towel, I grabbed a silver ice bucket from the shelf. Tossing in bottles of juice and water, I stomped toward the door, intending to fill the bucket with ice from the machine at the end of the hall. Looking down, I once again slammed into Sir Jordon. The bucket slipped from my hand and crashed to the floor.

“Oh for shit’s sake!” I whined in frustration as I crouched and righted the bucket, shoving the plastic bottles back inside. My face burned in embarrassment, and I longed to melt into the thick ivory carpet, to vanish from view.

“Having a bit of trouble with slippery fingers tonight girl?” Sir Jordon chuckled softly.

“Evidently.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’m usually not quite so clumsy.”

“Think nothing of it,” he whispered. “However, I do have a slight bone to pick with your owner.” Suddenly his tone changed from a carefree timbre to a stern, acrimonious tone.

“What have I done, Sir?” I jumped to my feet and gazed into his incensed eyes as a tremor passed through my body.

“Twice now I have asked you one simple question, and twice now you’ve failed to answer me. I’ve come to the conclusion that either
a
, you are being rudely disrespectful to me on purpose, or
b
, you’re embarrassed to reveal who your owner is.” He titled his head slightly, a scolding yet erotic fire blazing in his eyes.

“Or
c
, Sir. You obviously didn’t think about option
c
.” I didn’t plan for my voice to project such a sarcastic tone, but he’d backed me into a corner. I had no other option than to miserably confess I was un-owned.

“What is option
c
?” He pursed his decadent lips, his focus on me so intense, I felt like he was piercing my soul.

“I don’t have one!” I could hear the anger in my voice.

“You don’t have an option
c
?” One eyebrow arched and his handsome face reflected complete confusion.

“No!” I snapped. “I’m un-owned, goddammit!”

Convinced that my fate had been sealed, it didn’t seem to matter that my voice was bellicose and condescending. I was a lost cause. No sense trying to hide the obvious. He knew it, and I knew it.

Pushing past him, I ran to the ice machine, all the while hoping he would go back to the dungeon and leave me to my self-loathing anger. Furiously shoveling ice into the bucket, I didn’t dare look back at Drake’s doorway.
Please let him leave. Just make him go away.