The Perfectionist_Sin City Sentries [Book Two]

by Myra Scott

  I walked down the long, ordinary hallway that led to the heavy black door of the dungeon. I typed in my key code and pushed open the door, stepping out of the light and into the shadows. I went down a steep flight of stairs to the next door, which I used my key code for again. The dungeon was a deceptively massive space, underneath a nondescript white building that blended in perfectly with the rest of the neighborhood. Madame Myrina was uptight about keeping the dark, sexy ambiance of the dungeon. It was dimly lit with red lighting and candles everywhere. It consisted of an elaborately-decorated lobby, from which about fifteen different rooms branched out. Each room contained various devices of pain and pleasure, and it had a small office area tucked away for the employees to do business.

  As soon as I walked in, I took stock of the waiting area in the lobby. There were a few guys sitting there already, and I scanned down the line to see if any of them looked especially interesting. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the third man, who was rather nervously checking his watch. He was hot as hell, with a sort of everyman charm that spoke to me. He looked like a tough, silent type. The kind of guy who dealt with a lot of stress, maybe worked with his hands. He looked like he was sorely in need of a release, and I was determined to be the one to give it to him.

  I clocked in hastily, then strode right over to him. I cleared my throat and he looked up, his eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of me, which gave me a thrill. But he was still playing it cool. It would be hard work breaking him down, but I looked forward to it.

  “Would you like to come into my private quarters so we can discuss business?” I asked, my voice velvety smooth and imperious. He stood up slowly and offered his hand for me to shake, which was an adorable gesture.

  Oh yes, I thought to myself, he will do nicely.

  I shook his hand with a wry smile. “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Mick. And I’d rather not give you my last name,” he said quietly but firmly.

  Ah, he was one of those. “I will have to take your last name for the waiver you sign, but you don’t have to tell me out loud here,” I assured him. “Follow me.”

  I led him into my usual work room, which was intricately designed to look like a medieval bedchamber. It was impeccably clean and organized with all my devices and toys tucked neatly away. I didn’t want my customers to walk in and immediately see all my tricks laid out on the table. I liked to surprise them.

  Mick sat down across from me in the little office area, and I pulled out the usual paperwork. I handed him a pen and began my spiel. “Welcome to my chamber, Mick. I’d like to start with a brief discussion of your desires and fantasies. What brings you here today?”

  He looked visibly uncomfortable, but I was patient. Finally, he said gruffly, “My job is… very stressful. I’m looking for a way to relieve tension. Blow off some steam and frustration.”

  “Perfect. I can definitely help you with that. Tell me, have you played as a submissive before in any capacity?” I pressed on.

  Again, he almost winced at the personal question. But it was necessary. “I—no. Not really. I’m not sure. This is all very new to me and it’s been a long time since… well. It’s been a long time,” he said.

  I smiled devilishly and leaned forward to say, “That’s all fine. I have more than enough experience for the both of us. Are you comfortable with the idea of letting me dominate and control you? I can bend you, break you down, make you moan and scream until you can’t stand it anymore. I can shatter you to pieces and build you back up, stronger than you were before. You just have to give me the go-ahead.”

  Mick looked contemplative for a moment. I knew my offer was a big pill to swallow, especially if this guy wasn’t used to being bossed around. But after a minute or so, he nodded.

  “Okay.”

  “Good,” I said, smirking and leaning back in my leather armchair. “I think we’re going to make one hell of a team, Mick. Now, I need you to fill out these forms in as much detail as you can give me. I want you to tell me what you like, what you don’t like, what scares you, what turns you on. Be specific, and don’t shy away from any detail. Tick as many boxes as you want, and feel free to add more. This is all about what you want and need, Mick. I can give you anything you ask for, if you let me.”

  I watched him closely as he methodically filled out every page of the thick packet. Every Dom had his own way of doing things. Some men preferred to learn through trial and error, play it by ear. But I was meticulous about my paperwork. I liked to know exactly what my client was into and what to avoid before even entering a scene. Besides, in my experience, most men were far more comfortable writing down their desires than speaking them out loud—at least at first.

  God, this guy was hot. Brown hair, strong jaw, an athletic build. I couldn’t wait to make him my submissive and see what he was really made of.

  When he was finished filling out his papers, I read them over, my excitement ramping up higher and higher. He was into… everything. This man seemed to have no fear. That was exactly what I wanted in a submissive—a guy who was open to anything.

  I gave him the standard contract and waiver I gave every client. “This just states that you waive liability, that you agree to fulfill your end of the contract. You will decide on a safe word and bring it to me in our first session. You will listen to my every command and follow my instructions to the letter. You will refer to me as Sir. And, this is important, you will abstain from kissing me on the lips or engaging in any other intimate gestures of a romantic nature. We will certainly be intimate with each other, but in a strictly sexual nature. There is nothing romantic about our arrangement. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” he said firmly. Then, he added, “Sir.”

  “Very good. Our first session will be on Thursday evening at six. Oh, I think you and I are going to have some fun together,” I promised darkly, a mischievous smile on my face.

  CHAPTER FOUR - MICK

  It had been a full day, and the idea of my session was still running through my mind, even as I sat in my comfortable office where I’d left Luke with strict instructions not to let anyone in. I’d just replaced all the distractions of meetings with the distraction of Eric.

  At least that was one distraction I didn’t mind having.

  I still couldn’t believe I’d actually set up the appointment. I had a contract. A real-ass contract with a real-ass Dom. I wasn’t some spineless kid shivering over the idea of that kind of contact, not by a long shot. But work had consumed so much of my life the past few months that it felt like such an invigorating break—and I hadn’t even gone through with the appointment yet.

  I felt a genuine smile on my face at the thought of getting away from it all and just… relaxing for one moment.

  Even the other guys had been understanding about the situation. Not that I had told them outright I was going to get this kind of thing done, but I had made about as powerful a statement as I could have hoped for when I snapped at them in the meeting the other night. That was one benefit to bottling things up, I thought sardonically—it made sure that when you did burst, people paid attention.

  God, that wasn’t healthy at all.

  But it was my situation, so I had to make the best of it.

  Once again, I found myself considering blowing off the emails on my screen to pull up the site where I’d found Eric again and perusing his gallery. I couldn’t shake how excited I was. The guy had a sort of energy about him that came off in person even better than it did online. I wasn’t going to get creepy about this or anything. He was a service provider, and I was a client. I was going to enjoy his services and pay him generously for it. Everybody wins. No strings attached.

  My mouse was hovering on the URL bar when I heard a knock on the door. My eyes locked on the wooden frame, and for a few moments I considered pretending I wasn’t in the room. But then Luke’s voice came t
hrough.

  “Sir?”

  He was about as nervous as he ought to have been.

  “Yes, Luke?” I replied tersely. The door cracked open, and his sheet-white face poked through.

  “I’m sorry, I know you said not to let anything disturb you, but—”

  “Unless someone is starting a literal fight in the lobby, Luke, it can wait,” I said, but before Luke could reply, the door got shoved open.

  Two men pushed past Luke, strutting into the office as if they were about to arrest me, and they stopped in front of my desk, looming over me and trying to come off as intimidating.

  It might have worked, if they weren’t college kids. I stood up and met them eye to eye, hands on my hips.

  “What the hell is the meaning of this?” I snapped. “You’ve got about three seconds to tell me why I shouldn’t call security.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” the older of the two said. “Just sic more of your attack dogs on us?”

  “Holy shit,” the younger one spoke up, and it was then that I noticed his black eye. “That’s the guy, Trev. That’s the actual asshole who hit me.”

  Recognition hit me like a truck.

  My face went white.

  These were two of the frat boys who were involved in the fight on the casino floor, and one of them was the very same kid I threw a punch at.

  Shit.

  “They came here to discuss a complaint about being assaulted by Sentry staff,” Luke explained nervously from behind them, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “I didn’t realize they would come marching in here like this.”

  “Yeah, and we want to talk about it now, none of this waitlist crap,” the one called Trev said. “We came here for a good time on Spring Break, and your guards used undue force. I’m a pre-law student, I know what I’m talking about when I say that.”

  Good god, this was already a nightmare and a half without that cherry on top.

  “Jesus, what kind of casino is this where the execs are going around clocking people in the eye?” the younger one said with a derisive laugh.

  I put a hand up to slow them down. I had to handle this carefully. Regardless of whether they had any justification for what they were saying, I had punched one of them in the eye, and antagonizing them in any capacity was just begging for a lawsuit.

  “Okay, gentlemen,” I said reluctantly before glancing over to Luke and nodding for him to have a seat with us, “let’s sit down and discuss this, shall we? These are very serious allegations you’re leveling, so I want to take this as seriously as the situation deserves. Luke, would you mind paging in Rodney? I’d prefer not to proceed without him.”

  Rodney was one of our attorneys—one who was particularly suited to tense situations like this.

  Five minutes later, the five of us were sitting around my desk, and my hands were steepled in front of me while the college kids glared daggers at me.

  “Let’s go over this in full,” Rodney suggested, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Trevor, if you wouldn’t mind, take us through it, starting with the moment you started a fight in our casino.”

  “We didn’t—” the younger guy started to say, but Trevor held up a hand.

  “We were here with our friends having a few drinks at the roulette table,” Trevor explained, his ego clearly being stroked just by being the one to explain everything. “Some assholes started picking a fight with us—it was a bachelor party or something. I don’t know.”

  “It sounds like there was a lot of confusion in the heat of things,” Rodney said pointedly. “There were a lot of people involved.”

  “It was confusing, but we weren’t drunk enough not to know what was going on,” Trevor insisted. “They threw the first punch.”

  “Our security cameras can confirm or deny that,” I said calmly.

  “That’s not why we’re here, though,” the younger man insisted.

  “James is right,” Trevor said, glaring at me. “We’re here because the staff was totally unprofessional in how they broke the fight up. Those guards nearly dislocated one of my shoulders, and he personally gave Trevor a black eye.” They meant me, of course, and I made no movement in reaction.

  Rodney gave me a quiet nod, meaning it was best if I kept my mouth shut right now.

  “I’m sure the CCTV can confirm or deny that, too,” Trevor added with a smug smirk.

  I was crawling in my skin, because there was nothing worse than a smug punk like this kid being right, and he was right.

  Hell, I couldn’t even have explained it if I had wanted to. I didn’t mean to punch the kid. I was just trying to keep him off me, because he was the one raining little jabs in my face as if we were in a boxing match. This kid had been looking to act tough and show off in a fight with an older man, and now that he had to face the consequences of that, he was whining like a little baby.

  But even explaining that I was defending myself would be an admission of something, and if there was one thing I’d learned about running a business like this over the years, it was that you never admitted to anything unless you were really backed into a corner.

  The only question was what kind of corner these kids were trying to back us into.

  “Okay, so you’re accusing our head of operations of punching you in the face during a drunken brawl where you and over a dozen other people were involved,” Rodney said. He was good at spinning words like that. “What I’d like to ask you in turn is why you saw the need to barge into his office in response to that?”

  “We want compensation,” James snapped. Rodney and I exchanged glances. “You caused me… shit, what did you say it was, Trev?”

  “Emotional damages,” Trevor clarified with a frown. “You must be almost ten years older than him, and you just socked him in the face while stone-cold sober. If that’s not an abuse of authority, I don’t know what is.”

  “Is there some direct medical bill you’re trying to get covered here, gentlemen?” Rodney intervened, narrowing his eyes. The boys shifted uncomfortably.

  “We have a lot of witnesses,” James finally said. “All the other guys are willing to back us up. If this is how you break up fights, you’re hardly fit to be a functioning casino, don’t you think?”

  It was taking everything in me not to speak up with the long, long list of reasons these kids were angling for something that was completely and utterly out of their reach. This was completely ridiculous. I knew it, Rodney knew it, and I damn sure home Mr. Pre-Law wasn’t stupid enough not to know it, if he was being honest with himself.

  But they were college kids with chips on their shoulder. They were capable of causing a lot of damage to us, depending on how rich their daddies were, and judging by what they were wearing, they were pretty loaded.

  “We will review this case thoroughly, and if you provide us with your contact information, we’ll stay in touch with you,” Rodney said.

  “Uh-uh, none of this brushing us off bullshit,” Trevor said, “I know how this works.” He pointed at me. “Either he gets fired for what he did to my friend, or we get compensated for our injuries. It sounds like he’s not security in this run-down shithole. He had no business being down there and getting involved in that fight.

  He was right again, and that made me so angry I wanted to explode.

  All I could think about was how much I wanted to go see Eric right this second. I couldn’t stand this anymore. It was going to make me crack.

  “That isn’t going to happen,” I finally said in a calm, even tone, even though Rodney cast me a warning look. I put my hands on the table. “I’m going to be very candid with you gentlemen. You fought in our casino. You endangered yourselves and other guests. You endangered our staff. You were reckless and intoxicated, and regardless of who threw the first punch, you helped instigate that fight, and we have footage of that happenin
g. Ironic as it may sound, a casino is not a money-machine that you can pull a lever on to get cash from when you feel like you’re entitled to it.”

  “But—” James started, but I interrupted him.

  “But nothing. You do not have a case here. What you’re doing is half-assedly trying to threaten us into giving you cash, probably to make up for your losses at the games. We at the Sentry do not appreciate threats. So, I’m going to ask you both to leave my office, but I encourage you to enjoy the rest of your stay here.”

  The last bit was just me being catty, true. But it felt good.

  The boys stood up with scowls on their faces. Trevor spoke up. “Alright, well how’s this for a threat? You’re going to hear from our lawyer.”

  “If you think he or she has time to break away from writing your letters of recommendation to some online law school, I’ll look forward to hearing from them,” I said evenly, and even Luke’s eyes widened.

  The boys stormed out of the room, leaving us in silence.

  “They likely do have a lawyer, just so you know,” Rodney said.

  “That’s why we pay you,” I told him. “Thanks for your help, Rod. I’m sure this isn’t the last we’ll hear about this. Stay in touch.”

  “Always do,” Rodney said, getting up to leave. After he was gone, Luke got up as well, checking his email and glancing up at me sheepishly.

  “I’m guessing this is a bad time to talk about a few emails I got while we were in that unscheduled meeting?”

  “Extremely,” I said simply.

  CHAPTER FIVE - MICK