Tickle His Fancy: Trident Security Book 6 (Trident Security Series)

by Samantha A. Cole

  Mistress China was on Whip Master duty tonight, and they stopped to watch her finish restraining the first sub who’d signed up for a session. Ian, Devon, and Mitch took the art of bullwhipping seriously here. It was a talent to whip a sub properly so the skin was never broken, and only a few people had been approved to use the bullwhips in the club. Many Doms who weren’t skilled in the task would sign up their own subs for a session with the on duty Whip Master for the night. Unattached submissives could also request to scene. Mistress China, Mistress Roxanne, Master Carl, and two other Doms rotated the schedule so one of them was on each night. Jake Donovan was also one of the original club Whip Masters, with China and Carl, but with him out in San Diego forming the west coast Trident team, the Sawyers had needed to apprentice several more.

  While Fancy watched in fascination as the Domme lit up the male sub’s bare back with licks of the whip, Brody’s mind flashed back to Heather’s mutilated corpse. There had been no reports on any more missing submissives, nor had the bodies of the other two missing women been found. The police and forensic techs had yet to come up with a viable suspect, which had many people in the community on edge. The Doms were doing their best to protect the subs, but they couldn’t be watched 24/7.

  Brody’s attention was brought back to the present as Fancy leaned her body toward his. “It’s amazing to watch, but being whipped isn’t for me. I’m so not a pain slut.”

  He grinned. “And I’m so glad you’re not. Spanking and a little pain for pleasure is one thing, but this isn’t my cup of tea, either. Shall we move on?”

  When she nodded and replied with a “yes, Sir,” he glanced around to see what other scenes were being played out. Master Dennis was playing with one of the new female submissives at a spanking bench station, and Master Stefan was nearby with two subs. The Coast Guard Lieutenant had recently signed a contract with Cassandra Myers, one of the club’s waitresses, who had the night off. Evidently, they had decided to add another female sub to their play tonight. Brody had played with Cassandra before and knew she was fond of rope play which was being used in their current scene. Shibari is an art in itself, with hundreds of different variations in how the rope can be wrapped around the sub’s body, and Stefan Lundquist was one of the local masters of the craft. He taught classes on different techniques at The Covenant, Heat, and Spice, and always drew a crowd to watch him create a new design.

  At the moment, Cassandra was blindfolded and lying on a leather table that allowed her Dom to wrap the rope around her upper body and under the tabletop, securing her to it. Her legs were spread wide using the table’s extension attachments. As Lundquist created an intricate webbing on the woman’s torso, the other sub, Kenya Phelps was on her knees between Cassandra’s legs, licking her bare pussy. Under instructions from Master Stefan, she kept the pace slow and steady, and would continue until he issued a new command. If the restrained sub’s increased breathing and moaning were any indication, Kenya’s tongue was sweet torture, but not enough to send her into an orgasmic state.

  Brody studied Fancy’s face. Her gaze wasn’t on the Dom, but instead was on the one woman pleasuring the other. Hmmm. He leaned down to speak into Fancy’s ear. “Have you ever played with another woman before?”

  She turned to face him. Her cheeks were stained pink, which of course had him wondering where else she was blushing. “No. . .Sir. . .but it was on my soft limit list with Patrick. We just never had the chance to try it.”

  His cock hardened as an image of Fancy and Harper playing together popped into his brain. He knew Marco’s fiancée enjoyed an occasional third in their scenes, and the person’s gender didn’t make a difference for her. Sometimes Brody joined them and on a few occasions, Cassandra or Kenya had been the third. “Well, then. Will it be going on your new soft limit list?”

  “Would that please you, Sir?” Her face lit up in a saucy, seductive expression. Yeah, she knew how to get his heart racing, sending plenty of oxygenated blood to his growing erection.

  “Very much so, sweetness.” He stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “We’ll have to explore that sometime after you’ve had a chance to get to know some of the other subs. Then you can tell me who you’d feel comfortable with.”

  They turned back toward the scene and watched as Master Stefan continued to twist the rope in geometric patterns along the soft lines of Cassandra’s body. The more he worked, encasing her in his design, the further she went into subspace. Her body was releasing endorphins creating a sense of euphoria—basically, the sub was “rope drunk.”

  After Master Stefan tied the last knot, he issued an order for Kenya to increase the pace and pressure of her tongue until Cassandra screamed with an orgasm. It was so strong, it brought tears to the sub’s eyes. Her legs trembled while the rest of her body barely quivered under the snug ropes her Dom had expertly wrapped around her.

  Next to Brody, Fancy shivered, and he knew if dipped his hand between her legs, he would find her soaked. Yeah, tonight was going to be fucking awesome once they were home and in bed, and he couldn’t wait.

  Chapter 18

  “Thanks for following me home, Master Thomas,” Naomi Nguyen said as the Dom climbed out of his pickup truck which he’d parked behind her Ford Focus. It was 1:00 a.m., and he’d given her an escort home from Spice because of the three missing submissives, one of whom had been found dead. The owner of the club had asked the Doms to make sure the subs they played with made it home safely, and the two had scened together earlier.

  “No problem, Naomi.” He glanced around the front yard as if reassuring himself there was no threat. One of her neighbors, who never seemed to sleep, was walking his little, brown pug down the street. Her escort nodded at the man then turned back to Naomi. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  She wished she had the courage to invite him in for a drink—and maybe some more play. Her crush was growing stronger each time they played together, but aside from sceneing with her almost every week, Thomas Manfred didn’t seem to want a steady submissive in his life. The civil engineer was extremely attractive and super nice, and many of the subs at Spice were wagging their tongues after him. She knew it had been three years since his submissive/fiancée had been killed in a car accident, and he’d only returned to the BDSM community a little over six months ago. She wondered how long he was going to grieve before he opened up his heart again. One of these days, she was going to conjure up the courage to let him know she was interested in signing a contract with him—just not tonight.

  Sighing to herself, she climbed the four concrete steps to her front door and slid her house key into the dead bolt lock. Opening the door, she flipped the switch for her interior light and spotted her Calico cat, Tonto, trotting down the hall to greet her. He was an indoor cat, but every once in a while he tried to make a run for the outdoors. The few times he’d managed to escape, though, he hadn’t gone far; he knew who fed him and was content to be waited on. She spied a toy mouse on the floor at her feet and kicked it down the hall, sending Tonto chasing after it.

  Turning to Thomas, Naomi was surprised to see he was standing close to her. Her gaze met his, and her heart rate picked up at the heat she saw there. This was how she’d been hoping he would look at her one day. Her mouth went dry as she stuttered, “Th-thanks, again. . .Sir.”

  The Dom reached up and cupped her chin. “I enjoyed tonight very much, pet.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve been thinking that I’m ready to start dating again—finally. If you’ll let me, I’d like to take you out for dinner and dancing some night. Someplace other than the club where we can talk and get to know each other outside the lifestyle. Do you think we can do that?”

  Her breath hitched. Holy crap—I must be dreaming. My fantasy man just asked me out on a date. Someone pinch me! “I-I’d like that very much, Sir.”

  “Thomas. We aren’t at the club and playing so you can call me by my name, Naomi.” Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers in a sweet, yet
brief, kiss. “I’ll call you tomorrow evening, and we’ll make plans, okay?”

  Nodding, she replied, “Yes, Sir. . .I mean, yes, Thomas. That would be great.”

  “Good. Now go inside and lock the door so I know you’re safe.”

  Elated at the turn of events, she did as she was told then waved at him through the window. It wasn’t until he drove away that she gave Tonto her full attention. Picking up the cat, she spun around and squealed. “Momma’s got a date with the cutest guy in the world! Celebration time. Whoops! I forgot your cat food in the car.” Putting him back on the floor, she grabbed her car keys from her purse she’d left on the hall table. “I’ll be right back.”

  Closing the front door behind her so the cat couldn’t escape, Naomi hurried down the steps to the driveway. Using the remote, she popped the trunk of her car and started to pull out the shopping bags of nonperishables she’d gotten from Walmart that afternoon after finishing her nursing shift at the hospital. Not wanting to make two trips, she hooked three bags on her left arm and leaned down to grab the last two.

  A strong arm grabbed her around the waist, while a hand covered her mouth and nose with a sickeningly-sweet-smelling cloth. She struggled against the hold, dropping her grocery bags to the ground. Trying to pull the hand from her face, twist away, or scream was futile as her mind fogged over and an oppressive darkness overtook her. Her last conscious thought was of Thomas’s charming smile and kind eyes.

  * * *

  Ian stood in the observation room, watching the activity on the other side of the one way mirror. He could see Isaac Webb and another detective speaking with Thomas Manfred, but the men in the interrogation room could not see the observer in return—although the policemen knew Sawyer was there. Earlier in the day, when it was discovered Naomi Nguyen was missing under similar circumstances as the other submissives earlier in the day, the police had hauled in the last person known to have been with her. Webb had then asked Ian to observe the interview to get the perspective from someone in the BDSM lifestyle. Ian did not believe Manfred had anything to do with the missing women, and he was sure Webb would eventually come to the same conclusion. But, in the meantime, Ian had Brody working on tracking Manfred’s pickup truck after it left Spice and followed Naomi home. Webb hadn’t minded the geek doing some of the investigative footwork—he wasn’t too proud to admit they needed all the help they could get to stop this psychopath. But he was also seasoned enough to make sure any outside intel was verified by someone in the department instead of taking it at face value.

  The interview had started off as they usually do, with basic, easy to answer questions: How did Manfred know the victim? What happened during the hours leading up to Naomi’s disappearance? Did he see anything out of the ordinary? What did Manfred do after he’d left her home?

  Ian had known the Dom from The Covenant several years ago, but after Manfred’s fiancée had been killed in a car crash, they hadn’t run into each other until about six months ago. Manfred had explained he’d put an application in at Spice because, if he hoped to move on with his life, he would never be able to set foot in the club where he’d collared his fiancée ever again. The head Dom of the Covenant had understood and wished the other man the best.

  Ian watched as Webb placed photos of the two other missing women and Heather on the table in front of Manfred. The detective’s voice came through the speakers. “Do you recognize any of these women?”

  The Dom nodded. They could all see the pain and worry in his eyes—haunted was the best way to describe it. Ian felt bad for the guy; first a fiancée killed in an accident caused by a drunk driver and now another woman he obviously cared for was missing at the hand of a probable serial killer. Like most people in the area, Manfred had heard all about the missing submissives and that Heather had been found murdered, but not how she’d been tortured and killed. The police were keeping as many details as possible out of circulation. However, Manfred was a smart man and had immediately made the connection between Naomi’s disappearance and the others. She’d been discovered missing after failing to show up at work for her scheduled shift.

  Manfred pointed to the photos of the first two victims. “I only know these two because I saw their pictures on the news, but I’ve never met them before. I knew Heather from a club we both used to go to, but I haven’t seen her in two or three years.”

  “What club is that?” When Manfred hesitated, apparently not willing to out a private, kink club, the detective added, “One of the BDSM clubs in the area? We know there are several and are working with the owners to keep their members safe.”

  “Okay, yeah. We were both members of The Covenant. . .”

  He paused, and Webb said, “I’m aware of the club and know the owners, the Sawyers.” Of course, the detective failed to mention that one of the owners was currently watching the interview.

  Manfred’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay, good. Um…anyway, like I said, we were both members a while back. But we never played together, if that’s what your next question is. My fiancée and I had been together for at least two years before we met Heather and her Dom, Scott, at the club. After Kim, my fiancée, died almost three years ago, I stopped going to The Covenant—haven’t been there since. I only got back into the lifestyle about six months ago, and Spice is the only club I’ve gone to during that time.”

  “So you’ve never been in The Devil’s Dungeon or Heat?”

  “No, I haven’t—wait, I’ve never been in The Devil’s Dungeon. When Kim was alive, we attended a few parties at Heat, but as guests of other members. I haven’t been there in years, though.”

  Webb started in with the questions about Manfred’s whereabouts when the other women were missing. The Dom couldn’t recall off the top of his head about the nights Christie and Melody went missing. However, the night Heather had been abducted, he’d been in Miami for the several days taking a class with other civil engineers on new state requirements for the profession. He told Webb he was more than welcome to check his flight, hotel, and credit card history, in addition to contacting the state inspectors who could confirm he was there.

  The door to the observation room opened, and Brody and a uniformed officer walked in. The Trident operative was carrying some photos. “We think he’s clear. I was able to track his vehicle through the traffic cams from Spice to Naomi’s house and then to his. He drives a pickup, and there doesn’t appear to be anyone in the passenger seat or bed. Also, Simmons here spoke to Naomi’s neighbor who was walking his dog really late. He saw Thomas escort her to the door, then drive away after making sure she was inside with the door locked. The neighbor went into his own house minutes later.”

  Ian hadn’t expected anything different and knocked twice on the one-way mirror to get Webb’s attention. Both detectives excused themselves, leaving Manfred alone in the room. As soon as the door shut behind them, the man dropped his head in his hands, and his shoulders shook under the weight of his grief. Ian hoped like hell they would find the missing submissive alive; he didn’t think Manfred would survive another loss of life.

  * * *

  After piling several bakery boxes filled with goodies into Brody’s waiting arms, Fancy grabbed the last two and her purse. Waving goodbye to her staff, she held the front door of the shop open for him. She hadn’t been able to decide what to bring to the barbecue at the Trident compound so she made a little bit of everything, including the PAW Patrol cookies little Mara enjoyed.

  As they approached Brody’s truck, Russell Adams ran across the parking lot toward them. “Let me help you with that, Senior Chief. Hi, Fancy.”

  Brody jutted his chin toward the back of his truck. “Thanks. Just drop the bed.”

  “Hi, Russell.” Fancy smiled at the Navy veteran.

  Adams lowered the bed of the pickup and dragged over the cooler Brody asked for so they could load the boxes in it to keep them fresh from the eighty-nine-degree heat. At least it wasn’t supposed to get much hotter today; this weat
her was bearable in her skort and tank top.

  After Russell had taken the two boxes from her, Fancy glanced around and gasped when she spotted two teenagers stopped on their bicycles on the sidewalk in front of the shop. Beside her, Brody froze then tried to figure out what she was looking at. “What is it?”

  She pointed at the two and said, “Those boys. . .they’re the ones who caused the trouble in my shop.” Without thinking, she shouted, “Hey!”

  The teens spun in her direction as Brody spat out, “Shit!”

  Fancy realized too late she’d warned the two she’d recognized them as Brody ran after them, ordering Russell to stay with her. The teens took off on their bikes, and it wasn’t long before Brody returned having been unable to catch them.

  “The bad news is they got away,” he said. “But I should have clear pictures of them on the security camera feeds. I doubt they’ll be back today, so I’ll check the system later.” Opening the passenger door to the truck, he reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a cell phone. Turning it on, he entered a number then handed the phone to Russell with a charger. “Petty Officer Adams, you’re officially on my payroll. If you spot those little shits again, call me. It’s number one on the speed dial. You can charge the phone at the shelter or in Fancy’s shop.”

  Taking the items, the homeless man stood tall and proud, giving Fancy an image of the seaman he’d been before whatever had caused his PTSD. “Aye, aye, Senior Chief.”

  “Meet me back here at eighteen hundred hours.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Fancy pointed to the front of the shop. “Go inside and grab something to eat and drink, Russell, and charge the phone if it needs it. I made those sticky pecan rolls you like.”

  The man’s face lit up with delight. “Thank you, Miss Fancy.”

  “You’re welcome. And thank you for watching my shop for us.”

  “No problem, ma’am. I’ve got nothing to do so it’ll keep me busy. Don’t you worry about a thing.” He gave her a friendly wink and Brody a quick salute before heading to the shop.