The Dom's Dungeon (7 page)

“But
pink?” she said, making a token protest.

“Pink looks
good on you,” he said mildly. “We'll take this one,” he told the saleslady.
“Please select the appropriate undergarments, hose, and shoes.” He tapped his
fingers on the arm of the couch, thinking.
“A purse and a
cape also.
The evening will be chilly.”

Mac's
mouth dropped open. As the saleslady scurried away, beaming like a woman whose
commission had just gone through the roof, Mac realized she should have put a
limit on how much Fontaine could spend. “That's too much.” Maybe most women
would gloat over the windfall, but it made her feel obligated.

“We have a
deal.” Alex rose to stand beside her. With a faint smile, he ran a finger down
her cheek, his touch somehow more intimate that any john who'd pounded into
her.

She
changed the bandage on his back when they got home. Only a tiny bit of clear
pink drainage had stained the gauze, and the wound was healing nicely. As she
taped the gauze down, she couldn't help but notice the long lines of his torso
and the contoured muscles of his back. Under her fingers, his warm skin felt
velvety soft over disconcertingly hard muscles beneath. No businessman she'd
ever seen had muscles like that.

Bemused,
she looked up and met his penetrating gaze in the mirror.
Oops
. She stepped back hurriedly, only to have him grasp her wrist.

“
MacKensie
, it's time we talked.” Still holding her wrist,
not her hand, he led her to the family room and pointed to the couch. “Sit
there.”

As she
took a seat, he opened the curtains to display a magnificent view of the Sound,
with the white-capped Olympics beyond,
then
disappeared into the kitchen.

Mac leaned
her head on her hand and studied the mountains. Yeah, they really were
gorgeous. Yet right now she wanted cozy instead. A place deep inside her ached
with the need to be rocking on her porch swing with the neighbor's cat a warm
weight in her lap. Red and orange leaves would be swirling down from the big
maple, and she would grumble to
Fluffball
about
having to rake them all up.

Before she
could descend into a major homesickness attack, Butler got up from the rug by
the fireplace and leaned against her leg with a heavy sigh, as if he'd worked a
twelve-hour day. She leaned forward to pet him and whispered in his ear, “I had
a rough day too, baby.”

Alex
returned and handed her a glass of dark red wine.

After
taking it, she regarded him warily. “What are we going to talk about?”

He sat
down in the middle of the couch. Why did the man always crowd into her space?

“In a
couple of hours, we're going to my club to spend the evening,” he said. “A
friend and his sub had a private collaring ceremony earlier today, and they
plan to celebrate at Chains. You'll be on display as my sub,
MacKensie
.”

Good thing
he'd given her the wine. She took a hefty gulp. Good stuff. Smoother than any
she'd tasted before. “And what exactly will that display entail?”

One corner
of his mouth turned up. “Your first lesson is this: what we do—what
you
do—is entirely up to
me
.”

Oh now,
didn't that just sound great? Undoubtedly, protest would be futile. She was
being assimilated and liked it no more than Captain Picard had.

He sipped
his wine, studying her until she felt like a lab mouse. “Let's talk about
diseases. Have you been tested since the last time you had sex?”

“I've been
tested.” Jim had insisted on it after taking her in. “I'm clean.”
But hadn't Alex promised
no
sex?
“But—”

“Any
chance you're pregnant?”

God forbid
. “No. I have an IUD.”
Thanks to Ajax, who didn't want to have any
of his “girls” sidelined with pregnancies if and when a condom
broke
.
She'd
replaced the IUD in college when she'd started dating and hoping… Well, she'd
been more optimistic back then.

“Any
medical problems?
Any at all,
MacKensie
?”
he warned. “I don't like surprises.”

“No. I
don't have any medical problems.”

“Have you
ever been tied up or restrained in any way?” he asked. “Are you
claustrophobic?”

She choked
on her wine.
“Um.
No, and maybe a
little.”
Just don't shut me up
behind a locked door
. “I don't like small, dark places.”

“Good to
know. Have you ever been whipped? Beaten? Flogged? Hit at all?”

To each
question, she shook her head.

“Spanked?”

No one has ever cared enough to spank me
. She
swallowed.
“Only by you.”
When his eyes narrowed,
moving from her fingers clenching the wineglass to her eyes, she had to look
away.

A finger
under her chin forced her gaze back to his. “When was the last time you made
love with anyone?”

She shoved
his hand away and snapped, “I've never 'made love' with anyone.”

“All
right,” he said easily. “When was the last time you had sex?”

“About
twelve years ago.” And when that john had complained about her unenthusiastic
blowjob, Ajax had decided she needed incentive. After the two men left, she'd
crawled out of the alley to collapse at Jim's feet.

“That's a
long time, little cat.” Alex's low voice broke into her thoughts. He tucked a
strand of hair behind her ear and then massaged her shoulder. “What happened?
You would have been…sixteen?”

How did he
know that? Oh right. The application she'd filled out for Exchanges had her
birth date. “Nothing happened.”

“Don't lie
to me, pet.”

“Well
then.” She tried to ignore the warmth of the hand on her shoulder. “It's none
of your business.”

“Actually
it is. As your Dom, I need your history so I know what land mines to avoid. Or
head for.”

Head for?
But she could see why a person
into kinky stuff might worry about emotional hang-ups. “I had some—a—bad
experience with sex. That's all,” she said stiffly.

“Has
anyone tried to give you a good experience since then?”

“No
point.” His finger slid under the collar of her shirt to stroke the juncture of
her neck and shoulder. How did he find such sensitive places on her body? “I'm
not interested in sex.
At all.”

“I see.”
His eyes crinkled. “And what would happen if you inadvertently became
interested? Aroused?”

“I-I…” She
glared at him. “It won't happen, so there's no—”

“In that
case, I have your permission to take the next step?
To change
our play to sexual?”

Did he not
understand the “won't happen” phrase she'd used? “Listen, I don't want you
deluding yourself that I'm interested in sex when I'm not.”

“Ah. So
you require objective proof that we both can see. I understand the need.” He
tilted his head. “So if your nipples become erect in a warm room, and your
pussy gets wet enough on the outside to dampen my hand, is that a sign of arousal?”

She
flushed at just the thought of his hand…there.
Damned lawyer.
She crossed her arms over her chest. If her nipples had peaked, she
so
didn't want to know. “No.”

“
MacKensie
, I should warn you that lying is punished.”

The
thought of being spanked again sent a tiny shiver through her.

The corner
of his mouth turned up for a second before his eyes chilled. “Now give me the
truth.”

“Yes, all
right. Wet means aroused, okay?”

“And if
you're aroused, then, as
your
Dom, I will determine
how sexual in nature our play becomes. If you become
unaroused
,
I stop. Have we an agreement?”

“I'd
rather leave it with no sex at all.”

“I'm not
comfortable with those limitations,” he said softly. “As your Dom, I give you
what you need, not necessarily what you want.”

* * * * *

Alex kept
his hand on his sub's bare arm as they entered Chains. Because of Lynn and
Bob's party, the private BDSM club was busier than normal, with every station
in use. Whips
snapped
and
floggers
splatted
,
accompanied by moans and screams and whimpers. Most of the rising and falling
hum of conversations came from the crowded bar area. The music of Nine Inch
Nails' “Meet Your Master” blasted down from the dance floor upstairs, where
people lined the rails, watching the scenes downstairs. Upstairs on the left,
the quieter safe-lounge area held more people.

“Kink is a
popular sport these days, isn't it?”
MacKensie
murmured, looking around with wide eyes.

“It is.”
Grasping her arms, he held her out in front of him, taking a second to
appreciate the view. The dark leather bustier not only matched her eyes but
also emphasized her tiny waist and pushed her breasts up in a way that tempted
fingers to explore. The
bloodred
latex skirt
stretched over her firm, round ass, stopping just below her cheeks. He'd considered
letting her wear heels but decided she needed a constant reminder of her
submission, so she was both bare legged and barefoot.

His decree
of no underwear had received a horrified look, then a stubborn one, and finally
compliance.
Very reluctant compliance.
This would be
an interesting night with her denial of her submissive nature and his need to
dominate.

“Why are
you staring at me?” she asked, scowling at him.

Definitely
interesting.
He tightened his grip to remind her of his
strength and ability to hold her in place all night if needed. “
MacKensie
, do you recall our agreement?”

Her eyes
dropped.

“That's
better.” He'd held off on swamping her with all the protocols, but this would
be a good time for some more. “Now some rules: In a club or anytime we're in
Dom/sub roles, you stay silent unless spoken to. You address any Dom as 'Sir'
and any
Domme
as 'Ma'am.' If you need to ask for
something, you say, 'Sir, may I have permission to speak, Sir?'”

“You have
got to be kidding. That's—” She halted at his frown.

“Making a
mistake can and will get you disciplined, little cat.” At his words, a tremor
rippled through her.
Punishment,
discipline
, and
spanking
were
trigger words for her, and the haunted look in her eyes indicated an emotional
response rather than an erotic one.
Another area to explore.
Soon.

He
continued. “I prefer that you keep your eyes on me; I like to see what's in
them.” He ran his hands up and down her arms, feeling the soft, soft skin and
the toned muscles hidden beneath a woman's gentle padding. “Keep your eyes down
with other dominants. Some take offense at a sub meeting their gaze.”

Her hands
tightened into fists. But even in the dim light of the room, he could see a
slight flush of excitement appear on her cheekbones. He eyed the bustier that
hid her nipples. Maybe he should have forced her to wear only a skirt. Then
again, the leather laces could be easily undone. “Is there any part of this
that you don't understand?”

She shook
her head.

“Your
answer should be 'no, Sir.'”

“No, Sir.”

“Very
nice.”
He let approval warm his voice. The way she drank it in like a
thirsty kitten made him want to wrap her in his arms.

“Alex, you
made it!” Bob pushed through the crowd, trailed by his sub.

“How could
I not come to celebrate with you?” Alex shook Bob's hand. “Congratulations.
You're a lucky man.”

“I know.”
Bob put his arm around Lynn, pulling her forward. “Oh I know.”

The slim
brunette leaned into her Dom, her eyes glowing. Every few seconds, she fingered
the thin collar around her neck, stroking the leather as if she wore the finest
of diamond jewelry.

Alex
glanced at Bob for permission and received a nod before kissing Lynn's cheek.
“Felicitations, sweetheart.”

She beamed
at him.

Bob looked
at
MacKensie
and raised his eyebrows. “Well. I heard
you and Cynthia had parted ways, but she called it a false rumor.”

“No
rumor.” Alex smothered his irritation before putting an arm around his little
vet and pulling her closer. “I'm working with
MacKensie
at the moment. She's very new to the scene, and this is her first time out
openly as a sub.”

Mac kept
her eyes on the ground, but she could actually feel the appraising look from
Alex's friend.