“You called?” Trish asked, rummaging through her bag for her cell phone. She found it and held it up. “Damn. It’s out of battery. I’m sorry, Carrie. You really didn’t have to drive all this way. You know how I am when—”
Lashe saw Trish look his way and then over to Sander, who had taken a seat in the overstuffed chair. She’d broken it off before she said something that would anger them, and she would have been right. Whatever story she was working on, which undoubtedly had to do with the Order, needed to stop. He was relatively sure that she was going to, but with her spontaneity, one never knew.
“I was worried, Trish.” Carrie looked down at the glasses in her hand. “Do they know?”
“Carrie, maybe we should talk in private,” Trish said, working her way closer to her sister. As it was, she was standing in the middle of the room. Lashe waited to hear Carrie’s answer before making a decision on where to sit. “I—”
“No, Trish,” Carrie replied. “Really. It’s okay. My therapy has been going well, or I wouldn’t be here, would I? Plus, if you’re sincere about taking this placement seriously, then they should know our hang-ups. After all, what happened to me affected you.”
“Do we really have to do this now?” Trish asked. Lashe could hear the desperation in her voice. What did she not want them to know? He shared a look with Sander, who seemed just as confused. “We don’t even know if this placement is going to work, so it’s a little too early to be sharing—”
“You’re the one who called me last week, Trish,” Carrie said, her face having that older sibling look that Lashe knew all too well from Sander. Older siblings always thought they knew everything, and although Lashe was reluctant to admit it, they were right in most cases. What did Carrie know that they didn’t? “You wouldn’t be here with them…intimately…if you weren’t serious on some level. Sometimes you amaze me with your efforts for a story, but even I know there are boundaries you won’t cross. What happened to me, happened to me—not you. Do they know?”
When Lashe realized that Carrie had ulterior motives for being here, he closed the distance between himself and Trish. Taking her hand, he led her to the matching loveseat. He could feel the tension radiating off of her, but that didn’t stop him from lacing his fingers with hers.
“Carrie,” Sander said, “you’ll have to excuse us, but we’re not quite sure what you mean. It’s obvious that Trish has told you that she’s exploring a side of herself in an unusual manner. Did she explain what Safeword LLC offered her?”
“Yes,” Carrie replied with a soft smile. “It’s a very unique way of finding your Dominant. I should say Dominants, shouldn’t I? I wish it had existed when I had decided to explore my sexuality, although two seems a bit much. Unfortunately, I wasn’t safe in choosing the way I went about it.”
Carrie reached up to where a loose knot lay underneath her chin and slowly untied the material. As she pulled the fabric from her hair, Lashe barely covered the wince that would have shown had he not been prepared for something of this nature. No woman wore a scarf that way unless it was intended to hide something. He should have realized that sooner. The line ran from her right cheekbone down to her jawbone.
“Did they catch the coward that did that to you?” Sander asked, leaning forward on his chair. He placed his elbows on his knees. “Is he where he belongs?”
“Yes,” Carrie said, folding the scarf and placing it underneath her glasses on her lap. “Like I said, I originally came to make sure that my sister is okay. When I saw the three of you talking and Mr. Bartel holding her face the way he was, I realized that things had gotten more serious than Trish had let on.”
“I wouldn’t say serious,” Trish said, arguing that point. Lashe couldn’t help but tighten his fingers on hers, giving her a warning that she was entering dangerous ground. Did she really think that what they had wasn’t important? “Okay, maybe it’s serious, but we don’t know that yet. It’s a day-by-day thing, as well as a specialized contract. Carrie, truthfully, we don’t know what the hell is going on between the three of us.”
“You always did interrupt,” Carrie said. “I see that hasn’t changed. You know you could visit home every once in a while. Anyway, Mr. Bartel, if my sister has opened up, even a tiny part of herself, then there’s no reason for you not to know what happened to me. Like I said, I wanted to explore BDSM and met someone online. He wanted to meet and I said yes. Being too embarrassed to tell anyone, I went alone. He wasn’t even remotely in the Lifestyle and instead, used the site to lure women to a discreet place where he could do to them what he wanted. I fought and eventually got away. It turned out that there were a lot of other women, but they were too embarrassed to come forward. Having your sexual desires out for all to see isn’t too appealing.”
“Your family and your sister must have been very proud of you,” Sander said.
“Although now we understand Trish’s desperate need to uncover men who use the Lifestyle as an excuse to abuse women,” Lashe said, turning his head and seeing Trish staring down at their hands. What was she thinking? He focused his attention back on Carrie. “We’ll be honest with you, Carrie, so that you’re not worrying about your sister. We care for Trish, a lot, which is why we’re taking the time to show Trish our way of life. Safeword LLC is very safe and the woman who runs the agency thoroughly vets her applicants.”
“I did some research myself, after Trish and I talked. Safeword LLC has a very good reputation.” Carrie looked down at her sunglasses, which Lashe noticed she did quite a lot. It was obvious that she hadn’t found what she was looking for in her personal life and Lashe wished her nothing but the best. The scar on her face did nothing to diminish the beauty that was within. “If it’s all right, I’d like to spend a few moments with my sister before I head back home.”
“You’re more than welcome to stay with us for the evening,” Sander said, although Carrie was already shaking her head.
“No, thank you. I actually have a shift at the hospital tonight, and if I leave in about thirty minutes, I’ll make it right on time.” Carrie stood up, as did they. She shook their hands. “Please take care of my sister. She tends to be somewhat rash, acting on things before thinking them completely through.”
Lashe turned and leaned down, kissing Trish’s forehead. She looked up at him with her dark eyes and wasn’t surprised to see the glare of anger. He smiled, which made them spark. Sander led the way down the hallway, toward his office.
“What the hell was that all about?” Trish asked, her voice hushed. If she thought that her voice didn’t carry to where they were, she was sadly mistaken. “The three of you spoke like I wasn’t even in the room. Just because I’m finding things out about myself—”
“You mean, like you’re a submissive and it’s a fantastic feeling to allow a man to…”
Lashe saw Sander’s shoulders shaking in front of him and knew that his brother was laughing. Trish and her sister continued to argue, but when Lashe entered Sander’s office, he closed the door and allowed them privacy. Now that they knew exactly what had prompted Trish investigation into the Lifestyle, dealing with her pent-up emotions about what happened would be a priority. But first, there was that little something in regards to the consequences she’d racked up.
* * * *
Trish closed the front door. Those last thirty minutes had passed by agonizingly slow, yet at the same time, had disappeared in the blink of an eye. Such were the competing perspectives she was dealing with. She loved her sister, no matter how infuriating she could be and spending time with her was always delightfully frustrating. Unfortunately, knowing that Lashe and Sander were about to deliver her punishment made the seconds race by much too quickly. Maybe she’d be able to explain to them that she no longer had an interest in writing an article on the Lifestyle.
Again, a sliver of shame made its way into her as Carrie’s words rang in her head. She hadn’t visited home in over a year, and that was partly due to not wanting to see her sister in
so much pain. Their parents hovered over her, so Trish knew there was no need for her to be around as much. By doing her part in exposing the men and women who used BDSM as an excuse to abuse their partners—that was how she knew she could help Carrie. But now, even her crusade had been taken away from her. Were there people who used the Lifestyle to their advantage? Yes. But not all of them did so to abuse another, and seeing the disappointment in Lashe and Sander’s eyes when they discovered she’d followed them had made her realize how wrong she’d been. Trish owed them an apology and would somehow, someway find a way to thank her sister for having the courage to show up here and really hit home that she had a chance of a lasting relationship with Lashe and Sander.
Trish walked down the hallway, seeing Sander’s door open. No one was in the room, so she continued on. Bypassing two more doors before coming upon Sander’s bedroom, she entered it, expecting to see them. They weren’t in here either. She eyed the bathroom and decided she’d take a quick shower before confronting them.
As fast as she could, Trish shed her clothes from the day in the city and turned the water as hot as she could stand it. Not wasting time, she washed herself clean and dried off in record time. Not bothering to wash her hair, Trish scooped it up on top of her head in a scrunchy. Coming out of the bedroom, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Sander stood there, holding something in his hands. It was probably her fur-lined cuffs that she’d come to know so well. He was stripped down to a pair of jeans that she’d never seen. He was always in a suit, much like Lashe. Seeing him in such a casual state stirred something deep within her. His upper body was lean yet muscular. The light sprinkling of hair on his chest made her fingers itch to run through it.
“Come to me.”
“I–I thought maybe we should talk first,” Trish said, tightening the towel around her breasts.
“I think you’ve just added to your punishment. Usually, correcting a sub on something as simple as a title would fall under discipline. Since you’ve racked up a very critical punishment in regards to spying on your Dominants, we’ll just add whatever infractions you incur from this point on. Come stand in front of me.”
“I’m s–sorry, Master Sander.” Trish forced her feet to close the distance between them. “I just want to explain—”
“You can explain your actions once your punishment has been commenced. Before I place this ball gag in your mouth, you will answer me two questions. Do you understand?”
“Y–yes, Master,” Trish whispered, feeling her heart rate speed up. Why would she need a ball gag? Did they expect her to scream? “I–is there a reason for a ball gag, Master Sander?”
“That will be another chastisement. You know better than to question your Dominant.”
Shit. She’d done it again. Trish watched his eyes lower to her towel and she quickly used her fingers to unravel the fold she’d created underneath her arm to keep it from falling. The towel dropped. Did he see how hard her nipples were?
“Do you understand that you are being punished for following us, spying on us, and lying to us?”
Boy, when he put it that way, it sounded horrible. Trish hadn’t thought it was such a bad idea at the time, but now she was wondering where the hell her head had been. “Yes, Master.”
“Do you trust us enough to mete out your punishment the best way we see fit?”
“Yes, Master, but please know that it won’t happen again. I’ve decided to—”
“It was a yes or no question, sub,” Sander said, his voice taking on that tone she hated.
Where was Lashe? Maybe if she explained to him, whatever punishment they had in mind could be lessened. Trish found him over by the window—an open window. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe.
“Look at me.”
Trish’s gaze swung back to Sander. They were seriously going to punish her. She wanted to scour the bedroom for whips, chains, and canes but was afraid that if she looked away, it would add to her punishment.
“Your goal was to ferret out information on a so-called evil and nefarious organization through transgression, and your exposé was publicly stated. It is only fair that your punishment be witnessed by those who choose to look.” Sander held up a ball gag for her to see. It had black straps and a blue ball. “This is to help you remember that silence is required when it comes to the privacy of our friends in the Lifestyle. We protect our own, just as we will protect you. It is a lesson you will learn tonight. Turn and face your other Master in the proper position.”
Trish shuffled her feet on the carpet until she was facing Lashe. She separated her legs shoulder width apart and placed her hands behind her back, clasping her forearms. She knew that her breasts were now fully exposed and that Lashe was taking in every part of her body. Regardless that she was scared to death of what they might punish her with, Trish also knew that Lashe could see her engorged clit through the light stripe of hair. Sander stood behind her and brought the blue ball in front of her mouth.
“Open your mouth.” Trish swore she could feel her teeth chatter. She slowly lowered her jaw. Sander placed the blue ball, which felt like hard rubber, into her mouth. It was a perfect fit. He went about securing the buckles on the leather straps behind her head. “Since we’ve taken your ability to speak away, you will use your fingers to show us where you are at in your comfort level. If you need to take a short rest, then you are to hold up one finger. If you decide you cannot take your punishment, you are to hold up two fingers. Do you understand?”
Trish nodded her head, although every word that came out of Sander’s mouth was like a stroke to her clit. How was it possible that this was turning her on? She still couldn’t find any implements that would possess her to use her safe word, so when Sander placed a hand on her back, she started forward.
“We have arranged a mat for you to lay on. It is propped up on a vanity bench, giving us easier access to your body. As I said before, you will be facing the window. Feel free to look inside the apartment building across the street. I’m sure they will find entertainment in your punishment.”
Could someone really see inside of their bedroom window? Trish continued to walk until she arrived at the mat. It was high on one end and then sloped down. Straps were attached on either side, obviously for her wrists and ankles. Sure enough, Trish stole a glance out the window and saw the various windows with lights shining brightly inside. She tried to step back, but Sander was still there. Her back met his chest, and she almost released her hands from behind her back when his fingers came around and started to pinch her nipples. Should she use her safe word?
“Do you not like having people view our private lives? I’m thinking they like it very much,” Sander whispered. “Are you going to accept your punishment like the good girl you want to be for us?”
“If she were such a good girl, she wouldn’t be getting a punishment, would she?” Lashe asked. He walked in her line of vision. The disappointment in his green eyes was evident and she wanted to make it go away. Trish knew deep down that if she were to take what they gave her in way of penance, it would wipe the slate clean. “We’ll help you on the mat. You are to stare directly across to the other apartment building.”
Within seconds, they had her lying on the mat with her wrists and ankles secured to the side. Her ass was up in the air, while her lower body draped lower. Trish rested her chin on the mat, terrified that she might find someone looking over at them.
“You always continue to amaze me, little minx,” Sander said, affection lacing his tone. She felt his fingers slide through her folds. “Your pussy is drenched. I didn’t know that you were looking forward to your punishment.”
Trish went to answer but had forgotten about the ball gag. Her words were incoherent. She wasn’t looking forward to it—she wasn’t! Yet she couldn’t deny that their control over her aroused her like nothing she’d ever experienced. Her body was theirs. Yes, she’d done wrong and it was in their place to correct her.
Slap!
&n
bsp; “Mmmm,” Trish said, although what she really tried to say was ouch.
“That is the palm of my hand. For every minute that you were spying on us, you shall receive a spanking.”
Trish knew her eyes had widened. They had been in the other apartment building for close to forty minutes. The heat spread out on her right ass cheek. It didn’t really hurt, but it damn well smarted. What would it feel like after forty of them?
Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!
“It looks like you have your first admirer.”
Trish had been trying to scoot forward, so the impact of Sander’s palm wasn’t so direct. It was pointless. She was too tightly secured to the mat. When Lashe said that someone was watching them, Trish tried to swallow, but the ball made that a hard feat. Her drool was forming in an embarrassing puddle. She quickly scoured the window, hoping like hell he was wrong.
Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!
“Hmmmf,” Trish said, although the word she was going for was fuck.
That fucking hurt! It was probably a good thing that she had a gag in, but then she changed her mind. More saliva started to come out the left side of her mouth. Sander was alternating the spanking on each cheek, but they were starting to get tender. How many more?
“Hmmm,” Trish said, wanting Sander to know that what he was doing felt a whole lot better than the palm of his hand. He had slid a finger inside of her pussy. Yes, he was right. She was drenched. His finger felt delicious and again, she tried to move, but found she couldn’t. “Hmmm.”
“You’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment, little minx,” Sander said, his humor shining through. “I think a harder spanking is in order.”
An Undercover Submissive [Safeword LLC 5] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 8