An Undercover Submissive [Safeword LLC 5] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Peyton Elizabeth

  “I’m willing to negotiate certain limits.”

  Chapter Four

  Trish stood in the middle of their great room, thinking that her entire apartment could fit in this space. She had no idea that as apartments go, one could be so vast. The décor seemed to match Sander more than Lashe. Everything was pristine, even spartan, although she was surprised there was no leather. The earth-tone furniture seemed to be made out of a more practical microfiber material. The paintings on the wall were abstract, which seemed to complement the color in the room. Then again, if she looked close enough, she could see Lashe’s personality shine through. The one end table that didn’t match anything, it was more of a unique cork box, was definitely his. Sander possessed a palette too refined for that.

  “We have a maid come in to clean the apartment once a week and a cook who comes in daily and prepares our meals, although she leaves after a few hours of prep work,” Lashe said, removing his jacket and throwing it over the couch. He then unraveled his tie, letting the ends hang loose down his shirt. “Everything is left in the refrigerator for us to heat up when we’re hungry. Now that you’ve seen everything, you’re welcome to anything that is ours. We like the apartment to ourselves, as I’m sure you will, too.”

  There was an underlying meaning to that, Trish was sure, but she chose to ignore it. Both men had taken seats on the couch, almost as if they expected her to join them. That wasn’t happening, but Trish did take the chair. Not knowing exactly what to expect and fearful they might ask her to undress, she tapped her fingers on the overstuffed arms. The silence ended up being too much for her, so she decided to ask some of the questions that rattled in her brain on the way over here.

  “What did Kennedy mean when she asked if I was to have a spa treatment?”

  “Is your pussy bare?”

  Lashe’s question caused Trish to widen her eyes and bite her lip. Well, she did ask the question. She snuck a glance at Sander, who was still looking at her as if he were trying to figure her out. She wasn’t that complicated and would have told him that, but then maybe he would send her on her way. She’d read in the contract where they were allowed to say the safe word as well. Trish wanted to make sure she got as much information out of them as possible before they went their separate ways.

  “Um, I trim, if that’s what you mean,” Trish answered, placing her hands in her lap. It wasn’t like they could see through her jeans, but Sander was making her feel like that. “Wait. Safeword LLC has their applicants get waxed? Seriously?”

  That was so going in her article. As much as she wanted to oust the Senator, maybe exposing Safeword LLC for what it was would garner more interest. Everyone seemed to be writing exposés on high-ranking people, although her intent was more due to personal reasons.

  “Not Safeword LLC in general, but the Dominants who use their service,” Lashe replied.

  “You mean the Order,” Trish said, gauging their reaction. Neither man flinched, and it was like she hadn’t even mentioned the elusive group. “Fine. We’ll say Dominants. Why would they, or you, want a woman to look like a young girl?”

  Sander laughed. She wasn’t sure if she should be irritated or feel relieved, since it broke off his scrutinizing gaze. Trish didn’t see what was so funny. It was a legitimate question.

  “There are many reasons a Dominant likes his submissive bare,” Lashe explained, his smile firmly in place. Trish didn’t like the feeling of being their amusement for the evening, but still found herself hanging on to his every word. “Trust me when I say, a woman with a bare pussy does not look like a young girl. When the time comes for you to be waxed, you’ll understand that it causes your flesh to be rather sensitive. The hygienic benefits speak for themselves. Your clit is exposed, and even the slightest movement of air over your naked pussy will arouse you. We love the feeling it generates within you, as well as the visual aesthetics. There is something about the way a woman’s pussy looks when her cream is glistening off of her folds and her clit is engorged, begging for the relief it will feel at our hands.”

  Trish felt a hot flash come over her and knew that if her pussy was bare, that was exactly what they would see. She tightened her legs together. An ache had settled in since this afternoon and had not gone away.

  “W–what about tying a woman up?” Trish was really wishing she had her tape recorder right now. Granted, when Kennedy had first questioned her about how she went about investigating the Lifestyle, Trish had been offended. She really thought having a first row seat among the club scene would be the best route, but speaking to men who really thought they were Dominant seemed to be garnering her way more information. “Why not allow her to participate? Do you have some—”

  “Sander, I’ll let you take that one,” Lashe said with a smile. He tilted his head toward his brother, as if sharing a secret with her. “He loves when a woman is bound to his mercy.”

  “As a Dominant, having a submissive bound before me gives me great pleasure in knowing that I control her pleasure. I can touch, stroke, and caress you any way that I wish, with no interference from you. There are times when pleasure can become so immense that submissives will shy away from it, being bound forces you to take that pleasure and your body is taken to new heights. I love being the one who takes a submissive to that place.”

  Trish almost fanned herself with her hands, but that would have given away the fact that his words affected her. Sander was back to studying her, and she had no doubt that he could see the signs. It was really hot in here. She looked around for the thermostat. Maybe they would turn the air up.

  “You’re wanting reasons of why people are drawn to BDSM. Are you ready to share with us why you feel people just throw out that acronym as an excuse to abuse submissive people?”

  Trish switched her gaze to Lashe, who had asked the question. Was she ready? No. It wasn’t her story to tell. But they hadn’t really told her anything that would make her think otherwise. Really, it sounded like they were just kinky men.

  “If Sander likes to, um, tie women up…what do you like to do to them?”

  Trish wasn’t sure she was ready for that answer, but figured her body couldn’t get any more aroused than it already was. She normally would have just masturbated at home, in the privacy of her bedroom, but seeing as she might be staying the night here, she would have to do without. There was no way she would do that here.

  “Oh, Trish, that question is asking far more than you realize.”

  “Fine,” Trish said, her irritation returning. If he didn’t want to answer her questions, than it was time to find out what they expected of her. She already felt her back straightening at the thought of them ordering her around. “What happens now?”

  * * * *

  Lashe shared a look with Sander, who had been relatively quiet since they’d gotten home. His brother seemed pensive, although he had responded to Trish’s questions. Sander needed to lighten up or they would scare her away within the next five minutes.

  They’d given Trish her own room, thinking she would feel safer until they got her training under way. Lashe contemplated on how to answer her question, sensing that Sander was waiting on him to speak first. Knowing what they had to do but hating it because he wasn’t a patient man, Lashe leaned forward and laid out what they expected of her.

  “We’re going to give you one command, each day, for one week. Do you think you can follow through?”

  Lashe knew the minute he added on the last sentence that she would sit straighter in her chair. He loved the endearing way she kept blowing her bangs out of her eyes, although when she added the eye roll, his palm twitched. It was very, very difficult to train a submissive who wanted to live the Lifestyle, but they were dealing with a submissive not only thought that how they lived was heinous, but who didn’t even know that it was her true nature.

  “One command? Every day? Give me an example,” Trish demanded, crossing her arms. Didn’t she realize that when she did that, it raised the ample flesh of
her breasts up and over the material? “Do I get one tonight?”

  “Yes.” Lashe looked over at Sander, who nodded his head. At least they were on the same page. There had been two scenarios they had presented to one another, but they could sense her combativeness and Lashe knew the slower route was the one to take. He and Sander might have blue balls by the time the week was done, but hell, it would be worth it. “For the remainder of the evening, you are to call me Master Lashe and you are to call Sander, Master Sander. This will last until we inform you to do so only during a scene. When we are in public, you will use our surnames. Our titles are just to be used at home and during a scene, but since we are training you, please use it continuously until you get used to the titles rolling off of your tongue.”

  Lashe could see her calculating exactly what it is they were up to. He had no doubt she thought they would have her strip in front of them and request or do something to her that was scandalous. It was best to keep her guessing and have all of those unfulfilled desires rage within her, pushing her toward finally admitting that BDSM was indeed a Lifestyle worthy of living.

  “I–I can do that, I guess.”

  Lashe raised an eyebrow and waited.

  “Oh! Um, I can do that, Master Lashe.” A smile transformed her face and she giggled. “Sorry.”

  Lashe knew that she wasn’t sorry at all, and neither was he. At least, not at this precise moment. If she continued to laugh every time she said their title, his palm would be doing more than twitching. But seeing her face light up and a little bit of her playful side come out made him feel lighter. He hadn’t realized this pessimism seemed to have settled over her, barring her from enjoying life. Lashe made a mental note to find out what happened in her past and if it had anything to do with her sister. He had a gut feeling that James already knew.

  “Now, let’s enjoy a nice dinner, shall we?”

  “Wait,” Trish said, holding up a hand and then placing them back on her legs. “What is tomorrow’s?”

  Lashe waited, wondering if she realized her mistake. Sander remained quiet as well. She looked at both of them, her brown eyes furrowed in annoyance at them remaining silent. When recognition dawned, it was all Lashe could do not to laugh.

  “What is tomorrow’s request, Master Lashe?”

  “Request?” Sander asked, standing up from the couch and walking towards her. Lashe placed his hand over his mouth when Trish blew her bangs with a roll of her eyes. He knew that her deportment would eventually get her ass paddled, but thought maybe it was a good thing she didn’t know that yet. Ease was the word of the day. “I think the word you want is command.”

  “Fine. What is tomorrow’s command, Master Sander?”

  Again, Trish smothered a giggle and Lashe saw that Sander had slipped his hands in his pockets. That was his brother’s telltale sign when he was stressed. He didn’t want anyone to see his fingers curl into fists. It was also Sander’s way of preventing him from reaching for her and flipping Trish over his lap. He commended his restraint, because Lashe was about ready to do the same.

  “You’ll wait until tomorrow for your next command, little minx. Now, Lashe said something about enjoying a nice dinner. I’m sure you have more questions regarding the Lifestyle and we’d love to answer them. Maybe after a week’s passed, you’ll see that BDSM is a way of life for some that has no relation to the abusive relationships you seem to think we and our friends have. Maybe the first lesson should be making sure you understand that failure to follow our commands or making light of your failure to properly execute our instructions has its consequences.”

  Chapter Five

  Trish was going stir crazy. She flopped on her bed, wearing nothing but an oversized white tank top and boxer shorts that were designed with books scattered about the material. She knew she would have laughed at their expressions had they’d seen her nightwear, but she never left her room after retiring for the evening. A week had never seemed so long.

  What truly amazed her these past seven days was that the daily commands they’d given her were benign. Trish reluctantly admitted to herself that saying Master Lashe and Master Sander was becoming second nature. Some of the other ones totally dumbfounded her and she wasn’t really quite sure what to make of them. What she did know was that she’d never been so sexually frustrated in all her life.

  The second order they’d given her was to keep her eyes downcast when they walked into a room. She was to wait until they gave her permission to look at them. That was harder than their initial directive. The first time she did as requested, it wasn’t the initial downcast of her gaze that gave her concerns. It was the feeling she received when they offered their consent for her to make eye contact with them. It never failed to give her a rush of emotion that she couldn’t name. It also physically aroused her to the point where her panties had been damp every night when she changed into her boxers. Sander’s green eyes seemed to dance in mischief as if he knew what she was feeling. It was maddening.

  Trish turned her head, looking at the clock on the bedside table. It was nine thirty in the morning. Her sister was probably home in bed after working the nightshift at the hospital, but Trish didn’t care. She needed to talk to someone other than her—no way was she even remotely thinking of the word that had popped into her brain. Shit. Trish flipped over and crawled up the mattress, reaching for her phone beside the clock. Moving the bar on the screen with her finger, she found the speed dial number she wanted and waited for Carrie to answer the phone.

  Trish figured she had around an hour before James showed up with the daily contract. Granted, it was getting annoying having to sign one every day, yet it somehow assured her this wasn’t for the long term. Kennedy had mentioned to her on the phone the other day that usually at the seven-day mark was when they amended the contract to include intercourse. Trish didn’t want anything to change, just in case she decided to switch articles and do a piece on the company.

  “’Lo?”

  “Hey, sis.”

  “Seriously?” Trish could hear the shuffling of the sheets. “Oh, my God. It’s only nine thirty in the morning. You know that I just went to bed an hour ago.”

  “Sorry,” Trish said, not meaning it in the least. “I, uh, need your opinion on something.”

  “It better be about an interview with the president,” Carrie said, although her words came out more as a grumble.

  “Not exactly,” Trish answered, but then couldn’t think of the words she wanted to say.

  “Okay. Since you’re never at a loss for words, this is about a man, isn’t it?” Trish didn’t answer. More shuffling sounds came through the speaker and Trish knew her sister was now sitting up in bed. Maybe calling her hadn’t been such a good idea. “It is! Spill it, Trish!”

  “It’s more in relation to work.”

  “Oh,” Carrie replied, her voice indicating her disappointment. “All you do is work.”

  “And you don’t?” Trish asked, countering the jab.

  “Just because I’m not ready to put myself out there doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.” Carrie fell silent for a moment. Trish was now regretting calling her. “What happened to me…happened to me. Not you. I made some wrong choices and ended up paying for it.”

  “He used a made-up Lifestyle to hurt you. If people want kinky sex, then they should have it. It doesn’t mean you have to label it.”

  “Trish, we’ve been over this a million times. BDSM is a Lifestyle that is normal. Every day people enjoy it every day. I just chose a poor way to explore it. Please tell me you’re still not on some kick to disprove the—”

  “And what if I am?” Trish asked, her irritation surfacing. Damn it. She shouldn’t have called. “I went undercover at a kink club. Some of the stuff there was very eye opening and with some very prominent people.”

  “Which is their personal business, Trish,” Carrie explained. “Seriously, you need to get a life and stop justifying what you’re doing with my name. You’ve become consumed w
ith what happened to me. What you won’t accept is that I was the one who didn’t understand and take precautions.”

  “He lured you in by—”

  “I’m not going to rehash this, Trish. It was one man. The majority of the people in the Lifestyle are upstanding, honest, and caring. You’d know that if you took the time to get to know them instead of trying to expose their private sex lives.”

  Trish fell silent, thinking of Lashe and Sander. It was hard to argue with Carrie after personally getting to know them. From what she’d seen, they were upstanding, honest, and caring. Why did they have to disguise their sexual predilections as some sort of lifestyle choice?

  “Trish, you didn’t call me to argue over the same topic we always do.”

  “I, um, well…you see, I was given the opportunity to experience firsthand what the Lifestyle is all about—so I took it.”

  “Explain this to me in more exacting detail, Trish, or I’m going to have to get in my car and drive up there,” Carrie said. Trish knew that would never happen, since Carrie only ventured out of Otterville for her job—and that was at night. “Please tell me you were honest with whoever is willing to show you around the club scene.”

  “It’s not a club scene. I sort of snuck in one for a few weeks, but I was caught.” Trish finally cracked a smile when she heard Carrie utter a few curse words. “It turned out fine, although I did lose my job. Anyway, there is this placement agency that positions submissives with their so-called perfect Dominants.”

  Trish paused, waiting for Carrie to speak. When all she heard was silence, she figured either Carrie was speechless or just waiting for her to continue. Trish leaned up against the headboard, crossing her legs at the ankle. Maybe if she told Carrie the whole truth, she could provide insight as to the odd way Lashe and Sander were carrying out her placement. Trish quickly continued to explain how Safeword LLC worked and caught her up to the present.