The Dom's Dungeon (8 page)

“Very
pretty.”
Bob snorted. “Cynthia's reaction should be
interesting.”

Lynn
giggled.

“Doubtful,”
Alex said in a cold voice.

When his
arm around Mac tightened, she didn't resist, needing the feeling of being
protected more than she needed to avoid contact. The atmosphere seemed more
intense than the public BDSM clubs she'd visited. She'd expected to see subs
getting flogged, caned, even sights like the person having hot wax being tipped
onto her stomach from a candle. But here, the observers were more focused, and
the people negotiating a scene were more serious. In fact, one Dom had actually
taken out a list on a piece of paper to go over it, point by point, with a thin
male sub. That Dom looked up just then and met Mac's eyes.

She
dropped her gaze immediately.
Oops
.
This not looking at
Doms
wasn't an easy rule to
remember.

“We've
commandeered an area near the far end, between the stockade and the St.
Andrew's cross. C'mon over,” Bob said.

Still
within the curve of Alex's arm, Mac walked through the room. By a massive
wooden St. Andrew's cross, Bob's group occupied a sitting area of leather
couches and chairs. As Alex received a chorus of hellos and welcomes, Mac
unobtrusively checked out his friends. The mostly male
Doms
wore either leathers or black clothing, much like the black slacks and black
silk shirt Alex had on. Their ages ranged from thirties to fifties, and most
were fairly good-looking, with a couple of men almost as gorgeous as Alex. One
female
Domme
had a male sub,
another
a
female.

As Alex
took a chair, Mac looked for one too,
then
noticed
every sub was kneeling on the floor. She didn't want to embarrass Alex, so she
did the same, trying not to flash everyone and cursing her short skirt and lack
of underwear. Once situated, she checked her posture against the other
subs—kneeling, hands palms up on knees, back straight—then glanced up at Alex.

His eyes
and smile showed his pleasure even before he leaned forward and stroked her
hair.
“Very observant, little cat.
You look lovely.”

The
compliment in his deep voice seemed to glide right through her skin and into
her insides, creating a warm glow that lessened her insecurity. Not that the
glow lasted as comments from the other
Doms
came hard
and fast. She forced her gaze to stay on the floor.

“New
sub?”

“Pretty
little thing.”

“Looks a
little feisty; 'bout time you had a challenge.”

His hand
rested on her shoulder possessively. “Her name is
MacKensie
,
and she's new to the scene.”

When their
attention turned elsewhere, she gave a sigh of relief—one that was too
noticeable, she
understood,
when Alex gave a quiet
laugh and squeezed her shoulder.

His touch
felt good.
Too good.
He watched her closely and
touched her too easily. A slight tremor ran through her, and she edged away
from him. He glanced down at her, focused on her a minute, then removed his
hand.

And then
she felt lonely.
Frak
.

As the
subs stayed silent, the
Doms
discussed plans for the
following week and upcoming events. When no waitress appeared, they designated
two subs to fetch drinks. Then two of the
Doms
asked
for Alex's opinion on a scene across the room, some sort of knife stuff that
sounded appallingly bloody.

“All
right,” Alex told them,
then
looked down at her. “
MacKensie
, do you want to see this?”

“I get to
choose?” Wasn't he supposed to make all the decisions?

He smiled,
his hand cupping her cheek. “I know you don't mind blood, but I don't know how
you feel about one person deliberately cutting another.”

She
shuddered. That didn't sound at all pleasant.

“And
there's my answer.” Alex rose. “Remain here. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Not a
problem. Just after he walked away, she realized she'd missed her chance to ask
a vital question: where was the restroom? Her bladder felt like an overinflated
balloon, and the tight skirt made it worse. She looked around. Two
Doms
, one
Domme
, and a handful of
subs remained. The other subs wore clothing much like hers, although one was
completely naked. Another wore only jeweled clamps on her nipples—
ouch
—with a chain running between them,
and a very skimpy thong.

Mac shook
her head in wonder. Apparently she'd gotten off lightly when Alex had chosen
her outfit.

Clothing
or not, she still had to pee. When a gorgeous brunette kneeling beside the
adjacent chair looked over, Mac asked, “Are we allowed to go to the bathroom?
I'm dying here.”

Expressionless,
the brunette eyed Mac. Then she smiled slightly and pointed. “The restrooms are
across the room. You should be able to get there and back before the
Doms
return.”

“Thanks.”
After pushing to her feet, Mac hurried across the room, past two flogging
scenes and one man touching some electrical thing to intimate places on his male
sub.
Looked painful as all get-out.

Once she'd
used the toilet and managed to wiggle her skirt back into place, she retraced
her steps, using the St. Andrew's cross as her heading.

Halfway
there, a hefty Dom in battered leathers stopped her.
“Brown
top, red skirt, medium height, yellow-brown hair.
You must be
MacKensie
.”

Mac
blinked.
“Um.
Yes.”

“Good
enough. I got your safe word and conditions.” He snapped a metal handcuff on
her, whipped her around, and put one on the other wrist, just like in a cop show.
And just like a show, he pushed her forward.

“Hey, let
go!” Mac tried to jerk away, but he had a good grip on her and must have
outweighed her by a good hundred pounds. She raised her voice. “I don't know
you. Let go of me.” She kicked out at him without managing to hit anything
vital, and suddenly the hand clamped around her arm felt like Arlene's.
Dragging her to the closet.
Helpless
.
Her hands chilled. “No
no
no
!”

He cut off
her screams by stuffing a rubber ball into her mouth, securing the elastic band
behind her head. With her hands restrained, she couldn't fight, couldn't get it
off.

“C'mon,
little bitch.
Time for punishment.”
Letting go of her,
he shoved her ahead of him toward a scene area that held a stockade-like thing.

Horror ran
through her at the sight of the single hole in the board. Not designed to
restrain a person's hands, but their neck. A short whip lay on the floor beside
it.
No
no
no
.
Whirling, she kicked out at the man and nailed his thigh.

He yelled
and grabbed her arm, one huge hand raised. Turning her face away, she braced
herself for the blow.
For the pain.

It never
came.

“I believe
we have a problem here.”
Alex's voice.
He had caught
the man's wrist, held it frozen in the air.

Relief
swirled through Mac so fast, her head spun. She tried to tug away.

The man
gripped her arm tighter. “No problem, dude, except your interfering in my
scene.” Her assailant yanked her out of Alex's reach.

“It may be
your scene,” Alex said. “But that is my sub.”

“Hey, man,
she came to me.” The bastard had the nerve to shake her shoulder as if to prove
his point.

Mac shook
her head frantically, tried to speak through the gag.

“She
doesn't appear to agree.”

“Just
part of the scene.
She wanted a rape scene, set it up special. I
didn't hear her using her safe word either.”

Alex's
eyes on her were cold.
Furious.

He
believed the man.
Oh please, no
. She
shook her head again, her eyes filling with tears. He'd leave her here, let her
be hurt, and—

“Remove
her gag,” Alex said. He glanced at an old man standing nearby, watching the
show. “Find a dungeon monitor.”

“On his
way already,” the old man said.

“Now
listen, asshole—” The cruel-faced man dragged her farther from Alex.

“Gentlemen,
what seems to be the problem?” Another man wearing a bright orange vest over a
black shirt frowned at the men.

“This
little bitch set up a rape scene with me, and now this asshole says she's his
sub and butted into my scene.”

The
dungeon monitor raised his eyebrows. “Considering Alex is one of the founding
members of this club, I have trouble believing that.” He jerked a chin at Mac.
“Let's hear from the sub. Remove the cuffs and the gag.”

The
bastard unlocked her cuffs. When he let her go to pocket them, Mac shoved him
as hard as she could and ran straight for Alex. His arms closed around her,
holding her to him. After a breath, she pulled the gag off and turned far
enough to throw it at the man, then tried to burrow into Alex even farther. His
scent of subtle, rich cologne and soap surrounded her, and his firm embrace
held her against his solid body. She'd found her shelter.

He pressed
a kiss to the top of her head. “Let's have a seat and discuss this,” he said.

She
stiffened, cold fear rising inside her. Clutching his arms, she stared up into
his forbidding face. “Don't let him take me. Please, Alex, don't.” Now that she
was free, an uncontrollable shaking started deep inside her.
The feel of a fist hitting her jaw, the
shock of being slapped, pain from… No. No memories. Not now
. Her tears
spilled over, and an ugly sobbing noise escaped. She put her hands over her
mouth.

“
Shhh
, sweetheart.”
Alex scooped her up in his
arms and cuddled her to his chest as if she were a puppy. “No one is taking you
anywhere. But I need to know what happened.”

She buried
her face against his shoulder, unable to stop the violent shudders racking her
body. A minute later he sat down on a couch, but he kept her in his lap, one
arm fixed around her waist, one hand stroking her back. Her cheek rested
against him, and she heard the slow thud of his heart, felt the easy rise and
fall of his chest.

He wasn't
worried. He could take care of this.
Of her.

Footsteps.
Then
the dungeon monitor said, “Alex, this is Steel, and Steel says the sub's name
is
MacKensie
. He asked her if that was her name.”

“Asked?”
Alex questioned. “Why did you need to ask her name?”

“I wanted
to make sure I had the right sub, and she was.
Brown top, red
skirt, yellow-brown hair, name of
MacKensie
.”

Alex's
body
tightened,
and anger turned his voice to ice.
“Then
MacKensie
didn't set this up with you. Someone
else did.”

“Well,
yeah. She wanted a stranger to grab her and whip her. That was the scenario.
Wouldn't work if she knew me, now would it?”

Clutching
Alex's shirt like a security blanket, Mac lifted her head to look at Steel. He
had a perplexed look on his face as he ran his hand through shaggy hair.

The
dungeon monitor scowled. “I'm getting a really bad feeling about this.” He
looked at her, started to speak, and then frowned at Alex instead.
“Permission to speak to your sub?”

“Of
course.”

“Did you
ask someone to set this up,
MacKensie
?”

She shook
her head, her throat so tense, no words could escape.

“Well,
fuck, look at her shake,” Steel muttered. “Are you telling me I grabbed the
wrong person?”

“No,” Alex
said softly. “I think this was a setup. Just not the one you'd planned.” He
turned Mac in his arms until she faced him. When she tried to bury her head, he
used a finger to raise her chin. “We need you to talk to us, little cat.” His
eyes pinned her gaze to his. “I left you kneeling beside the chair. Why did you
leave?”

She tried
to swallow, but the spit stuck in her throat. Her grip tightened on his shirt,
and she breathed in, trying to find the calm place inside herself, the one
where she used to hide.
Another breath.
“I-I had to…bathroom.”

His lips
curved, and his voice softened. “I have a bad habit of forgetting you women
piss three times as often as men. So you went to the bathroom. Alone?”