The Dungeon Fantasy Club

by Anya Summers

  She took a few minutes to dress and get ready for the day, noticing tiny bruises on her hips in the shape of fingerprints. Her bra chafed against her raw, slightly bruised nipples. And she couldn't even begin to think about her bottom being covered in lash marks. Just seeing the reminder of Tobias' fevered attentions made moisture flood her sex and her knees tremble.

  Oh, she had it bad for him, and what was more, she knew it.

  Ophelia vacated the room and went in search of Zoey. Last night, she'd been so jet lagged and exhausted from her travels, she'd barely taken note of the home she was in. Grand didn't even begin to describe it. The ceiling's moldings were lined with gold filigree. The heavy oaken doors and frames displayed some of the finest inlaid scrollwork this side of a museum. The halls had glossy wooden flooring in an aged mahogany, complete with oriental carpet runners spanning the immense length of the hall. The cream-colored walls sported artwork and all manner of historical artifacts.

  She stepped into the elevator, her brain still not at a functioning level, and pressed the button on the bottom. The doors closed soundlessly. The conveyance whooshed as it descended, a slight ding sounded as she reached the first floor. The doors slid open and she exited without really thinking, not minding her surroundings. She was too embroiled in her own inner turmoil to pay attention. She glanced around, casting her gaze up and down the area she was in. This couldn't be right at all. Shaking her head, Ophelia reflected that she really shouldn't be unleashed upon the world without coffee. It was like she had stepped off the planet. The hallway was dim, with low LED light panels along the floor and ceiling. The walls were made of see-through glass with black curtains shrouding the rooms, giving the hall an unearthly gleam.

  She thought she had taken a wrong turn or been sucked into a time warp. What was this place? That was when she heard it. A garbled moan, followed by the sound of flesh connecting sharply with flesh. What the hell? As if pulled by marionette strings, Ophelia padded forward to where the hall opened up into a nightclub of sorts. It made her think of Dungeon Pleasures back home. Curtains fluttered as she passed, stirred by air currents, and she caught glimpses of outlines moving, her mind sure she wasn't seeing couples mid-coitus.

  It was there in the center of the room, on a raised dais of sorts, with a rather impressive crowd for the middle of nowhere Scotland; that Ophelia saw maybe thirty or so people had gathered, reclining on leather couches as a woman was being disciplined on a spanking bench. She was bound with leather straps in a kneeling position, completely bared to the spectators. The rosy cheeks of her bottom flushed bright red from the man's hand as he whaled on her backside. A second man stood near the woman's head, bare, his chested finely coated in sweat as he thrust his dick inside the woman's waiting mouth.

  Her face was positioned in such a way that Ophelia couldn't tell by sight who the woman was, but she recognized the voice coming from the woman moaning on stage. Shock blasted her system as she raised her gaze, spying a leather-clad Declan as he brought his hand down with another loud crack. The other man, the one in the throes of ecstasy as he thrust his cock inside the woman, she didn't know. But she knew the woman. Her world tilted and she was speaking before her brain connected with her actions.

  "Zoey?" she cried. "What the hell is going on?"

  The crowd gave an audible gasp at the intrusion, which should have set off warning bells in Ophelia's befuddled brain, but it didn't. It only seemed to make her interruption resonate that much more in the space. Declan grimaced at Zoey's startled cry, staring daggers in her direction. The ginger-headed stranger yelped and withdrew his dick from her sister's mouth, with pain slashing his features.

  "Remove her from my club immediately, please." Declan nodded toward Ophelia as her sister began to sob on stage.

  Tears streamed down Ophelia's face. What the hell was wrong with the whole scenario? Why was her sister, of all people, acting submissive? Why hadn't anyone warned her? They'd all acted normal. And why did she feel like she didn't know Zoey anymore—or herself, for that matter? Mom and Dad had not raised them to be this way. Had their deaths caused herself and Zoey to need the darker side of sex?

  At first, Ophelia didn't recognize the man from the audience was who stood and marched over to evict her from the spectator sport happening until it was too late. Tobias Ford glowered at her with all the fury of a thunder god bent on meting out death and destruction.

  "I've got this one, D. Take care of your little sub." Wrapping his hand around her, Tobias ushered Ophelia out of the center area, retracing her steps back down the hall and then into the elevator. Tobias didn't say a word to her, but she could infer by his rigid stance that he was pissed.

  Well, bully for him.

  She should be the one who was pissed off. They should have better security measures in a place like this. Not to mention, Tobias had seen her sister naked. As much as she tried to rationalize it in her mind, Ophelia couldn't seem to. Whatever this freak show was, she was finished. No way in hell would she raise her child in an environment like this.

  How could her sister do that? Allow something like that? And Lia felt like the biggest hypocrite in the world because she'd submitted to the same type of degradation, minus the extra man and crowd on the scene, a few short hours before. Scotland, Tobias, witnessing her sister like that—it was all one big horrible mistake. Ophelia never should have come here—or left her house seven weeks ago, for that matter. Then all of this could have been avoided.

  Tobias didn't say a word, maintaining his 'silent as the grave' façade as he ushered her back to her room. He stayed silent, pulling her across the room to the couch. That damn thing. She'd love to set that thing on fire. What was it with the two of them and couches anyway? She assumed he was going to sit and talk with her, like reasonable adult human beings treating each other with respect. Ophelia couldn't have been more mistaken. It was why she didn't put up a fight and tolerated his iron grip on her arm as he led her from the den of inequity.

  Instead of having her sit next to him, he pulled her face-first across his lap until he had situated her bottom across his thighs. With one hand he held her wrists in a vise grip, and with the other he drew her pants and panties off, shoving them to her thighs until her bare bottom was exposed.

  She bucked at his firm hold. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" she cried indignantly.

  "You interrupted a scene, Lia, embarrassed your sister, and the man who owns the home you so graciously find yourself a guest within. For that, you will be punished. Do not enter the dungeon area without mine or Declan's permission again, do you understand?"

  "The dungeon area? I was looking for the first floor and pressed the lowest button on the elevator. Is it my fault it wasn't clearly labeled? How the hell was I to know there was a scene happening? Like I know exactly what that is, when it looked like Declan was beating my sister. I can't believe this is how guests are treated."

  "Regardless of your ignorance, when you spied the scene, you chose to interrupt instead of retreating and waiting to discuss it with your sister and her fiancé at a later time. Ignorance is not bliss in this case, and you will be punished."

  The first whack startled her more than it hurt. Tears stung her eyes as he proceeded to paddle her bare bottom. Pain seared her backside as he walloped her, the stinging blows coming in a ceaseless rhythm. She laid her head against the couch cushion as tears streamed from her eyes. Her ass burned. Her whole backside was enflamed. She'd never forgive him for this. He may not know it yet, but whatever he thought they'd begun last night was over the moment he chose to spank her versus talk to her.

  She couldn't stop the sobs. Her whole frame shook. Ophelia hadn't even realized Tobias had finished spanking her. He pulled her close, cuddling her, allowing her the release of tears. She cried at the missed opportunity of what might have been between them, at losing her sister and finding herself alone, and went about extinguishing her feelings, shoving them behind bars and throwing away the key. She'd done the s
ame thing after her parents died and it had served her well. And if she ever felt herself wavering again, feeling like she was missing out on life, she'd remember this time, and keep herself from doing anything this stupid ever again.

  "Sweetness, don't make me do that again. It was not pleasant for me. In the future, around Mullardoch Manor, don't enter a room until after you've knocked and been invited in. And do not, under any circumstances, go into the dungeon. Are we clear?" Tobias said.

  Drained from her crying jag, she nodded. She'd play along for now, act like she had capitulated to his request, but after his actions, coupled with what she'd witnessed between her sister and the owner of Mullardoch in the so-called dungeon, she was out. He'd never touch her again.

  "Good. Stay here until your sister comes to see you. I'll ask the cook to send some food up for you."

  "Okay." If she said any more, she'd likely start screaming at him. The last thing she wanted was another spanking. As it was she worried she'd have trouble sitting comfortably for the next few days. Who knew that she'd be treated like a petulant child being sent to her room?

  "I have to go and meet with Declan so we can firm up the security contract. After your intrusion into the dungeon, the measures I have proposed need to be implemented as soon as humanly possible. We'll talk later tonight. Leave your door unlocked for me." He turned her face up toward his, placing a light kiss upon her lips. Then he disentangled himself from her and exited the room with a final glance over his shoulder before he left her alone completely.

  Unable to sit any longer, Lia started pacing around the room. Rage unlike anything she'd ever known barreled through her body. How dare he spank her like that? How dare Zoey not talk to her and make sure she understood what type of relationship she was in, or that there were places that were off-limits? She was working herself up into a frenzy, she knew it, but like a train about to derail she could do nothing to stop the fury bubbling to the surface.

  She even tried going into the bathroom and splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to bring her fury to heel. Nothing worked. Ophelia was tempted to smash the room to bits, having to keep herself away from any of the breakables in the room as she paced. She was spitting mad by the time there was a knock on her door.

  "Come in," she ground out, grinding her teeth, attempting to restrain the snarl from her voice.

  Zoey opened the door and entered, wheeling a cart laden with food offerings. Always the caregiver, coming to soothe Ophelia's hurts and treating her like a child instead of a grown woman. There had been a time when her coddling had been sorely needed after the accident. And Lia had never envied the position Zoey had been put into when their parents had died leaving them orphans. Ophelia knew her sister had placed parts of her life on hold for her, to make sure she didn't flunk out her senior year, that she went on to college, and just continued with the business of everyday living. Lia knew that. Her guilt, part of it at least, was brimming with regret for Zoey that she had been cheated out of being a normal twenty-something instead of playing mom to her sister. So she didn't begrudge Zoey wanting or even needing her own life. If anything, Ophelia hoped her sister found the happiness she so rightly deserved.

  "I wanted to make sure you had something to eat. I wasn't sure if you'd had anything since dinner last night. And we need to discuss what you saw." Zoey pushed the cart to the table near the couch and still hadn't looked directly at her. "Why don't you sit and eat something?" she went on, handing Lia an empty plate when she didn't jump at the offered feast.

  The smells from the cart made her mouth water. She hadn't eaten since the night before, and this baby was taking her hunger to new levels. They did have a lot to discuss, and perhaps it was best if she didn't have what was sure to be an involved conversation on an empty stomach.

  "I'll stand and eat, if you don't mind." Ophelia closed the distance until she stood next to the cart, filling a plate with the finger food offerings. Munching on a carrot, she gazed at Zoey who finally met her observation. Embarrassment mingled with grief in her sister's eyes.

  "I'm sorry about what you saw earlier. I should have told you last night, but with your news I forgot to mention it," Zoey apologized, remorse filling her voice.

  Ophelia swallowed the bite of cheese that had lodged itself as the moment of truth was upon them and replied, "Zoey. I just don't know what to think. Why didn't you tell me that Declan was your fiancé in the message you left me? And then, when I arrived yesterday, you said nothing as to the type of relationship you have with him, and what goes on here. You could have warned me."

  "Ophelia, what I do or don't do is none of your business. I love you but I have needs that I didn't even know I had until I met Declan. I can't make you understand them, only know that I wanted what was happening in the dungeon before you so rudely interrupted."

  Ophelia's temper, the one she'd been trying to leash, exploded. "What I witnessed in your fucking dungeon today wasn't love, Zoey, it was lust, pure and simple. If that's how you get your rocks off that's fine, but don't sugarcoat it. If you really want to know what I think, it's that you are infatuated with the idea of him and are enjoying sex on the wild side. You have turned your back on the people who love you, and all for a man you hardly know."

  "Like you know anything about it, you never experience life at all, Lia. I'm very proud of your dedication to your studies and your academic accomplishments, but you don't live in the real world. You know nothing of my relationship with Declan and are not in any position to comment on the matter, or dictate to me how I am to live my life."

  "And you think that what you were doing downstairs in your fiancé's dungeon qualifies as love?" Ophelia snorted, exasperated at her sister. Why wasn't Zoey seeing her side of things? Gone was the sister she'd looked up to, strived to be more like, and failed miserably on all accounts. She felt like she was arguing with a virtual stranger. As though her sister had gotten on that plane two weeks ago and was never coming back. Ophelia felt the loss of it, of who they had been, so keenly that her eyes stung from unshed tears.

  Zoey's face hardened; there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes mingled with sorrow, and then it was gone. "What I do or don't do with my fiancé is my business, not yours. I'm sorry that it upsets you, truly I am. I wish that you were happy for me. That you could accept my relationship with Declan and that it will be a permanent part of my life. I'm not giving him up just to soothe your ruffled feathers. The house in Burbank is yours. After my niece or nephew is born, I will visit, and pack up anything I want to keep and have shipped over here."

  "So that's it. Thanks for coming Lia, but I'm leaving you, too," Ophelia spat, shaking, with a horrible sinking feeling that she was in the wrong here somehow, but couldn't see her way out of the volatile mess.

  "I think it's best if you leave and go home, Lia. Eat up. I will have a ticket waiting for you in Edinburgh, and will have Jared drive you to the train station."

  Ophelia retreated on the inside. The carefully guarded control that had slipped under Tobias's firm touch slid back into place like at the click of a button. Zoey didn't want her here and planned to shut her out of her life. So be it. Ophelia would get along just fine without her.

  "Don't bother coming home, Zoey. There's no point. And I seem to have lost my appetite. If Jared is ready, I'd like to leave now." Lia gathered what few belongings she had, stuffed them in her carry-on, and grabbed her purse.

  Her sister nodded stiffly. The hurt in Zoey's eyes was a tangible thing, but Lia turned away from it, needing to lick her own wounds first—which meant getting separation from this place and the people in it, all of them. If Zoey was going to cut Ophelia out of her life just because she questioned her life choices, then it was better she made a clean break. Her sister was kicking her out of her life, not the other way around, but why did she feel like she was the one who was wrong?

  Chapter 8

  Tobias and Declan spent the better part of the afternoon studying the schematics Tobias had drawn
up. Lia's little infiltration of the club at the worst possible time had hit home for both of them that the club need more security, pronto. Due to Declan's forthcoming wedding, he had wanted to decrease the possibility of any wedding guests inadvertently accessing the dungeon level, and any Dungeon Club visitors venturing up from below decks so to speak. Some of Declan's board members wouldn't understand his lifestyle and would make things difficult for him if it was discovered, which Tobias understood. He didn't publicize his involvement with Dungeon Pleasures in Pasadena. That was why he'd hired Bret Moore to serve as the business manager for DP—so that his name wasn't bandied about freely, and so the upper-crust elite clientele of his securities firm, Forward Vision, had never heard of it.

  "Looks good," Declan commented, smiling as he stared down at the blueprints on his desk.

  Tobias stood on the opposite side, glad he thought so. "I can have my secretary send the papers over and work can begin in two days' time, as soon as my team arrives."

  "Good enough. And thank you, by the way, for solving the situation with Zoey's sister today. Zoey was near inconsolable over the debacle, so much so we had to stop the scene and leave it unfinished. She still hasn't discussed it with me any further than that."

  "That was rough." Rougher still on Ophelia, who seemed sheltered and not a little distanced from the rest of the world. It was why she had stood out to him on that night at his club; she had seemed like a little lost waif, her eyes wide with wonderment and shock, unsure of whether to run and hide, or join in the fun. Tobias had bet she would have run. Before the idiot had assaulted her, he'd been considering approaching her himself. When she'd vacated her spot at the bar, he'd followed—just in case she changed her mind and turned back, he'd be there to swoop her up. He'd been furious when that asshat had grabbed his little bird and attempted to assault her.