Red Handed (6 page)

The yard's brightness surprised her. Before today, she'd never experienced snow, having spent most of her days in the desert, except for trips to the ocean or Europe, which were always taken during summer vacation. She'd thought the sky would remain gray like when she'd arrived, but it was as blue and clear as the Mediterranean Sea in Nice, France.

She shivered. The beauty outside her window was all an illusion. She didn't dare forget the frigid temperature or the biting winds. It would prove as dangerous as the middle of the Arizona desert in August.

Sighing, she turned away and got to work unpacking. Other than her toiletries, the kidnappers had permitted only a pair of black pants and a light sweater, so it didn't take more than a minute before she'd emptied her suitcase.

Then she settled on the bed with her trainee application and books. The bed was as soft as it had looked, and she couldn't help but lay her head on the pillow. Her eyes fluttered shut and she blinked, making herself stay awake. Maybe reading about sex would help. She opened up the first book and started to read.

The room grew dim as the sun set, the light turning gray and snow falling from the sky. She attacked the application, checking off boxes and answering questions she'd never thought she'd ever have to answer. In fact, before today she hadn't known some of these kinks existed. A couple she had to look up on her cell phone's web browser.

She didn't get off on pain and doubted she could handle anything more intense than the spanking she'd received earlier. Still, she marked light beatings as a soft limit, figuring she may be able to tolerate items that didn't create too much pain.

Age play and humiliation were definitely hard limits for her, as well as anything to do with bodily fluids.

Then there were the other questions. The ones that made her heart beat a little faster and her breathing quicken. Bondage. Sensation play. Some of the role play. Multiple partners.

And most confusing, public sex.

It was difficult enough to wear lingerie and corsets in public, but nudity? Although she'd been fighting the urges to expose herself since as long as she could remember, she didn't even undress in a locker room. Too self-conscious about her weight, she preferred the privacy of the bathroom stall.

But she couldn't deny her pussy grew wet at the idea of others watching her have sex. Her entire body tightened, and, now lying on her stomach, she realized she was grinding her pelvis into the mattress. With a bit of apprehension, she checked “yes” to several of the items on the list, including multiple partners and public sex.

Chewing on the pencil's eraser, she continued answering the questions until there was a knock on her door. She quickly sat up and swallowed hard. “Come in.”

Gracie sauntered into the room, this time wearing a white plastic-looking tube top and matching skirt that barely covered her ass. In fact, if she bent over, Danielle would see more than she wanted. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her long ponytail swishing back and forth. “Master Cole has asked me to bring you to the dungeon tonight.”

“I thought I had to wait for my first safety class.”

“Yes, that's generally the rule, but it's not my role to question Master Cole's orders. If you're hungry, we can join the other slaves in the dining room for dinner; otherwise, I brought a sandwich, candy bar, and bottled water for you.” She held out a little brown lunch bag. “I'll help you get dressed, and we can go downstairs to the basement before it gets too crowded. The first time in a sex club can be a tad overwhelming.”

Honestly, she'd hoped to have a quiet dinner and get a night's sleep before her first experience in the dungeon of Benediction, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious. She snatched the bag from Gracie's outstretched hand. “What do I wear?”

Gracie squealed and jumped up and down, clapping. “What you're wearing now is perfect. I'll do your hair and makeup while you eat.”

She sat on the edge of the bed. A strange feeling came over her, like she had a lump in her throat. Without her mom or close girlfriends, she hadn't had anyone to share these kinds of activities.

“We're going to have so much fun tonight.” Gracie hopped on the bed, settling behind Danielle. “I'm not sure where to take you first.”

As Gracie began brushing her hair, Danielle unwrapped the turkey sandwich and nibbled on it, watching Gracie in the mirror. “I was surprised when I got here. Benediction looks like any other home.”

“For the most part, it is. Only we have safeguards to limit access. Members use key cards to pass through the gates, and we have a greeter at the front door—run by yours truly most of the time—where we check coats and verify member identification before allowing them beyond the entryway.” Gracie took out a rubber band from only God knows where and pulled Danielle's hair off her face.

“What goes on upstairs?”

Apparently finished with Danielle's hair, Gracie leaped to stand in front of her, swiping Danielle's makeup bag off the bed. She pulled out some eye shadow and tipped Danielle's head up toward the light. Danielle shut her eyes, and Gracie swept the makeup across her lids. “Fantasy rooms. We have some downstairs in the dungeon, but those are mainly used for fire play, electrical play, and piercings. That's also where we do our demonstrations, like the
Shibari
Sir Logan did with Cassandra. Upstairs you'll find your fully equipped bedrooms, complete with built-in restraints and other amenities. Several of the rooms have themes. Medical, medieval, mirrors, and then of course, my favorite—the freeway.”

Medical?
Note to self: Stay out of the dungeon's fantasy rooms.
“Why do you refer to Logan as ‘Sir' and Cole as ‘Master'?”

“Different clubs may have different rules, but in Benediction, while both refer to Dominants, the title of Master is earned after a certain amount of experience. Logan's fairly new to BDSM, which is why he's a ‘Sir.' To make things even more confusing, a Dominant may prefer his submissive or slave to call him ‘Master.' However, the rest of us would address him as ‘Sir.' And of course if it's a woman, we'd use ‘Ma'am' and ‘Mistress.' ”

“My head hurts from all these rules. What if I screw up and call someone the wrong name?” After Gracie applied mascara to Danielle's lashes, Danielle opened her eyes for the liner.

“It's understood you'll mess up protocol at first, and you may receive small punishments for correction, but nothing too severe. As long as you follow the ‘Safe, Sane, Consensual' credo and don't interfere with a scene, you'll be fine.” She rifled through the makeup bag.

“You mentioned the freeway earlier. What is it?”

Gracie puckered her lips, silently instructing Danielle to do the same, and she smoothed lipstick across Danielle's lips. “Simply put . . . it's an orgy in the dark. Well, not complete darkness, but dark enough that you can't make out a person's features. It's all about using your other senses and ridding yourself of societal constraints on sexual expression. For example, when I kissed you earlier, you knew it was me. But in the dark, a touch is a touch.” Gracie stood to Danielle's side, allowing her to see the final results. “Ta-da!”

Gracie had worked magic, transforming Danielle's look from a bright-eyed innocent to a sultry siren, lining her eyes with black kohl and thickening and lengthening her lashes. She'd swept up Danielle's black hair into a high ponytail, curling a couple of tendrils to frame her face.

For the first time in years, Danielle actually liked her reflection. Her eyes misted, but she blinked back the tears of gratitude, no way willing to ruin all of Gracie's hard work. She grabbed Gracie's wrist. “Thank you.”

Gracie smiled. “Anytime.”

Arm in arm, they left the comfort of the bedroom and made their way through the house to the dungeon. Unlike earlier, the lights had been dimmed, sconces glowing on the walls and lighting their path. In only a couple of hours, the energy of the home had changed from innocent to sensual.

Danielle decided to take advantage of Gracie's eagerness to share her behind-the-scene knowledge of Benediction. “How many trainees are currently living here?”

Gracie stopped at the bottom of the kitchen stairs and nibbled on her lower lip. “Normally he only trains a dozen at a time.”

“Normally?”

“Well, with you here, it's thirteen.”

Why did the unlucky number feel like an omen? Cole had obviously made concessions to bring her into the trainee program. Was he telling the truth that it was because of her father? Or was there another reason?

“And where does Master DeMarco sleep?” Danielle asked.

Gracie stumbled over her feet, but quickly recovered. “Oh, um, Master Cole has a private residence upstairs on the other side of the house from the trainees' rooms.”

“I must have missed the staircase to it.”

Gracie stopped and whispered in Danielle's ear. “Master has a secret room behind the bookcase in his office. I've never seen so many screens outside of a television store. It's a voyeur's dream. A couple of the dungeon monitors sit in there during Benediction's business hours and watch what's going on in every room. There's not much privacy in this place, but privacy's overrated, don't you think? Anyways, the stairs to his residence are in there, although he's very protective of his private space. He doesn't let anyone up there and keeps it locked at all times. In fact, he's the only one with the key.”

She nodded absently, wondering if she somehow managed to get the key, how in hell she'd ever get into his residence without being caught. “What are dungeon monitors?”

“Kind of like unpaid security guards. Several of the more experienced members volunteer a few hours every week to act as dungeon monitors and watch over the scenes to make sure everyone is safe. They're also given the responsibility of watching the club monitors.”

Aware of the video cameras all around her, Danielle discreetly assessed the area near Cole's office. The hallway leading to it was empty. Maybe she didn't need to seduce Cole. If no one monitored in the secret room during the day, she could find the key, then sneak into his residence when he was busy somewhere else in the mansion.

Passing the den on the way to the staircases at the front of the home, Gracie waved to a group of people lounging on couches.

“Those are a few of our regular members,” Gracie said. “They're here several times a week. We caught them on the early side of the evening. Check them out when you go back to your room later.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Clothing is optional, but no sex is permitted. Fondling and petting, yes. Human tables, definitely.” She pointed to a wet bar on the side of the room covered by bottles of wine, spirits, and liquors. “There's an open bar, but the rule is if you drink, you're not sanctioned to enter the dungeon or the upstairs rooms. People can't give consent if they're inebriated, and no one plays without giving consent.”

Human tables? She couldn't imagine what that meant. Everything else sounded tolerable.

Danielle noticed they all wore wristbands of different colors, similar to the silver slave band she wore on her wrist. “What do the wristbands mean?”

“Benediction uses colored wristbands to identify people's kinks.” Using her fingers, Gracie ticked off the kinks one by one. “You're most likely to see black for Dominant, white for submissive, yellow for switches, green for partner swapping, and blue for ménage. There are several others. Master Cole's aware of everyone's tastes. That's why he's so good at matching his slave trainees with dominant partners.”

“Cole—I mean, Master Cole—plays matchmaker?”

“In a way. He's very good at determining what a member—and for that matter, a trainee—requires in a partner. Almost like a sixth sense. Every few months, he invites the available Dominants to a slave auction for those trainees looking to enter a contract after graduation from the program.” Gracie's almond eyes widened, and her lips tipped up in a wistful grin. “It's a truly beautiful and thrilling event to watch.”

At a loss for words, Danielle sputtered to a complete stop. A slave auction? Was that even legal?

Luckily for her, Gracie was still talking and didn't notice Danielle's shock or her inability to form words. “We have a choice of going upstairs or downstairs. The fantasy rooms have windows and audio for those who like to watch. Do you like to watch? I'm more of a doer myself. Downstairs you get more than the sights and sounds. You get the scent of lust and fear and pain and sex. It's intoxicating.”

The more Danielle learned about Benediction and Cole DeMarco, the more questions she had. All of them jumbled in her mind, but Gracie was obviously so excited to show her the basement, she didn't have the heart to stop and ask them. If anything, seeing the dungeon firsthand should answer several of them. “Downstairs then.”

Gracie threw her arms around Danielle and hugged her. “I promise you won't regret this. Your life will never be the same.”

That was exactly what she was afraid of.

Chapter Six

H
E GLANCED AT
his watch and clutched the tree cutter in his hand.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

The end was so close he could almost taste it.

Despite the fact his dick throbbed, this act would give him no satisfaction. He loved the scent of fear. The sound of a defenseless woman crying for mercy. In the past, he'd been careful not to get caught, only killing the ones no one would miss. With the others, he'd inflicted just enough pain to bring him to climax. Those girls would never talk. Not if they wanted to stay breathing.

Tasha sat slumped in the chair, unconscious. He'd strapped her arm to the table next to the empty bottle of vodka.

They needed to send a strong message, one Danielle couldn't ignore. He'd tried to come up with something less permanent, but credibility was key.