Hanging On 2: Surreal Neal [Awakenings 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

by Michele Zurlo

  Sophie’s reluctance to have children likely stemmed from the fact that she wanted to wait until she felt her relationship was complete.

  She abruptly disappeared from my side. When I looked up, I found her nestled on Drew’s lap, her arms draped loosely around his neck, and they were staring one another in the eyes. If I hadn’t been so close, I wouldn’t have heard Drew’s heartfelt declaration.

  “You and I are forever, Sophie. I’d never leave you, not even for a better cook. I love you with every cell in my body.”

  Through her blush, she beamed, and I basked in the glow on the edges of their devotion. Whether my theory was right remained open for further thought, but one part of it bit the dust. Sophia did not feel she was missing anything in her relationship with Drew. I’d never seen her look so radiant, so blindingly happy. Love blazed from him too, and for a moment I beat back the sharp point of jealousy.

  I didn’t want what they had. It was rare and impossible to find—for me, anyway.

  Though I wasn’t hungry, I finished my potatoes. It was likely that I’d need the energy later. Mistress hadn’t been kidding when she’d described Chef as insatiable.

  After dinner, we made our way to an amphitheater nestled in a hillside and hidden from view. We walked past it twice before finding the right path to take us there. It was empty. Most of the resort was bereft of people.

  “Signs,” Drew growled. “And ‘you are here’ maps. This place isn’t very large, but guests should always know where they are and how to get where they’re going.”

  “I’ll put that on the list,” Sophia said. She grabbed my hand and tugged me in the right direction.

  I hadn’t been about to get lost, but I was curiously happy at the contact, especially because she didn’t let me go. She walked along the path, flanked by Drew and me, holding our hands in hers.

  Drew smiled at me over her head, and I felt heat traveling up my neck. A blush was imminent. I hoped it wasn’t too visible in the light of the setting sun.

  She selected a bench near the front. In true amphitheater style, the benches were made from stone. They had been worn smooth from years of sliding butts, but they were still hard and uncomfortable.

  In a surprise move, Mistress sat me next to Drew, and she took her place on my other side. Spotlights came up on the stage.

  “Lights on the steps down to the seats,” Drew said. “And replace the stone with wood. That has to be better.”

  I snickered. “It won’t be worse. I can see where sitting here for too long might aggravate someone with back pain or joint problems.” Master Geordie had suffered from sometimes-debilitating back pain. He’d said it was from a messed-up disk, and he’d enjoyed many massages delivered by my hands. After he’d abandoned me, I had tried to turn that skill into an income, but things hadn’t worked out. It seemed I was too attractive, and people didn’t want to pay for the use of my hands.

  Mistress looked around. “Maybe we offer outdoor cushions, something washable that can be sprayed down with disinfectant.”

  The crowd here filled up the first three rows. Outliers, couples who wanted a little more privacy, could be found sitting back from the rest, but there weren’t many of them. Nobody occupied the upper tiers, where bulky shapes in the darkness revealed that things were being stored in the unused space. They were covered with tarps, but I didn’t think Sophia would approve of using an open area like this as storage. It should be packed with people.

  “You could employ acting troupes to entertain guests by acting out erotic novel plots. They wouldn’t have to actually have sex. With the right staging, it would be easy to fake.” I didn’t know where that idea came from. Like the name “Sanctum” that Sophia had loved, it just came rolling out of me. Being around the both of them seemed to inspire me and make me think that anything was possible. Sitting here with them, I could see their dreams coming true, and I could picture being the head chef in my own restaurant.

  Mistress snuggled her head against my shoulder, and I looped my arm around her back to make her more comfortable. “I like it. We could have the exit path designed to offer places where people can blow off some steam if they can’t wait until they get back to their rooms. Maybe a garden with flowers and spanking benches.”

  It was a beautiful description. I liked how she saw the world. I envied her ability to look on the bright side of things. She was unspoiled by circumstance. Her vision was fresh, her perspective artless and pure. She’d lived a charmed life, and it reflected in her rosy view. With her, I could believe my dreams were going to come true.

  Sophia reached over and pounded Drew’s thigh with a closed fist. I jumped at her controlled violence. The impression I had of her so far didn’t encompass anything sudden or unkind, and I hadn’t thought her capable of delivering a blow without warning.

  Drew flinched. “Jesus, Sophie. What was that for?”

  “A better cook? I’m pretty damn good, mister. Who fixed the sauce for your Hawaiian chicken dish?”

  “You are pretty good,” he acknowledged. His fingers twitched, and I wondered whether he was resisting the urge to rub his thigh. “But you get your recipes from your mother.”

  She lifted her head from my shoulder and snorted. “You get your recipes from my mother and from yours. What’s the difference?”

  When I looked down, I caught her grin. She winked at me. “He likes to pretend that I don’t hit hard.”

  This was where I smiled. “You hit perfectly, Mistress. I am looking forward to experiencing more of that with you.”

  Drew gave in and massaged his thigh. “There’s no winning this. I gracefully admit defeat.”

  I laughed, both because I thought they were funny and because I was relieved to know that my original assessment of Sophia had been correct. She wasn’t the kind of Mistress who doled out punishment without reason and informed consent.

  With a wry twist to his lips, Drew regarded me. “Keep it up and you’ll spend the evening kneeling between my legs making me feel better.”

  That didn’t sound like a bad way to pass the time. Though I stopped laughing, the smile on my face grew. Sophia put her head back on my shoulder, and the woman who had met us at the dock came onstage.

  Mistress Heather looked like the sort of woman who would put my balls in a vise and leave them there all day just because she could. Once that would have appealed to me, but now I didn’t trust anybody enough to let them take those kinds of liberties.

  Except maybe Mistress and Chef. They were growing on me. Every minute with them took me a step closer to thinking I could take chances I knew I would come to regret.

  The lights went down everywhere, and five spotlights centered on Mistress Heather. She stood like a goddess, her regal bearing hushing the sparse crowd. She had no need to speak—her presence demanded attention.

  She spread her arms wide, and four of the spots zoomed to other locations. The illumination directed our attention to four slaves, two men and two women. Each had been stripped, spread open, and bound. Several of them quivered under the lights, and I recoiled. Bondage like that had never appealed to me. I did not like being put on display at private parties. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to do this in front of a crowd.

  To be fair, there wasn’t much of a crowd. I hope Mistress and Chef got a deal on this place, because it didn’t look like it was currently making a profit. I had every confidence they could turn it around.

  “These slaves are for sale. Their next three hours belong to the highest bidder.”

  Scantily clad slaves made their way down the aisles, distributing programs to the various dominants in the audience. Mistress opened it up, and I saw that it contained short biographies of each slave, as well as their limits and preferences. It seemed each slave came with a set of toys and tools, and only those implements could be used on them.

  I knew a little about selling oneself to strangers, and I wholeheartedly agreed with the way they’d set up the rules.

 
“Play rooms are available as part of the package. No slave may be taken to a private room.”

  Mistress frowned. She looked from the pamphlet to the various slaves. At last, her gaze landed on Drew. “I’m not sure about this.”

  Drew shrugged. “It’s a fantasy. The play rooms are monitored, so I don’t see the harm.”

  Her frown didn’t fade.

  “Mistress, each slave has stated what they want. The Doms who purchase them agree to abide by those limitations and preset scenarios. My concern is the money. Where is it going?”

  Sophia examined the small print, but her expression didn’t change. “Good question.”

  “The auction will begin in fifteen minutes. You may use that time to inspect the offerings.”

  As she spoke, several beefcakes appeared on the stage. Each muscle-bound hunk of sexiness wore tight leather pants and no shirt. Their chests gleamed in the reflected light, and I guessed that they had been oiled for the occasion. I didn’t have long to wonder about their purpose. Each took a position next to a bound slave. They were guards. I breathed a little easier to know that those up for auction wouldn’t be mistreated while prospective Masters and Mistresses were “inspecting the offerings.”

  Mistress sprang to her feet, threw another furrowed brow in Drew’s direction, and headed for the stage.

  Drew rose to his feet reluctantly and pulled me with him. “Come on. Sophie with her panties in a twist is never a good thing.”

  “I don’t blame her,” I said. “None of this has been run by her first.”

  As we followed in Mistress’s wake, Drew blew out a breath. “We’re scheduled to sign papers at the end of the month, so we don’t technically own it yet.”

  When she was angry, Mistress walked with an extra firmness to her step. It made her curvy ass sashay from side to side a little more. “You think that’s going to stop her?”

  “No,” Drew laughed. “When Sophia has her mind made up, she’s stubborn as all get-out.”

  We made it up the steps in time to hear her speaking to a bodyguard standing near a bound woman. “Can I touch her?”

  Up close, the man looked even larger and more imposing. From the way he reacted to Mistress’s authoritative tone, I surmised that he was a submissive. “No, Mistress. You may look, but you can’t—” He broke off and his hand flew out, grabbing the wrist of a nearby man. “No touching, Sir.”

  The would-be inspector narrowed his eyes at the bodyguard, but he did not challenge him. Mistress watched the altercation with her lips pursed. I knew she was not impressed with the setup. She might approve of vulnerability in a submissive, but she didn’t like the fact that these slaves were put in this position. They should be in a roped-off area or behind glass.

  Whirling, she beelined for Mistress Heather. I glanced at Drew, noting the worry lines forming around his mouth. He managed to stay at Mistress’s elbow, grabbing her arm to slow her progress. Once again, I trailed behind them. He spoke into her ear, but I wasn’t close enough to hear what he said.

  Mistress Heather smiled a greeting at Sophia. She couldn’t have missed the alarm radiating from Sophia’s body, but she didn’t seem affected by it. She opened her arms in greeting, and I was struck anew by her regal bearing. Though she was almost as tall as me, she seemed larger. Her build befit a taller woman. I could see her easily forcing one of the bodyguards to his knees. Yet for all that, she was shapely and attractive. The red-orange dress she wore mimicked the dancing of flames and highlighted her creamy, milk-chocolate skin. Someone had twined fabric of similar colors into the tight braids cascading down her back.

  Sophia ignored the friendly gesture. “Heather, please explain to me what is going on.” Though she phrased it politely, there was no missing the fact that it was a command.

  Mistress Heather hugged Sophia anyway. “These four submissives asked for this experience. You’ve seen the pamphlet?” At Sophia’s nod, Mistress Heather continued. “All precautions have been taken, and none of the slaves will be left alone. The monitors will be with them at all times. Discreetly, of course.”

  “Even after the auction?”

  Mistress Heather nodded.

  This seemed to mollify Sophia somewhat. Stiffness eased from her spine and shoulders.

  Drew also relaxed, but he still kept a vigilant eye on Sophia. “What happens with the money?”

  Though Drew had asked my question, Mistress Heather directed most of her answer to Sophia. “The money is used to pay for the rooms, the toys, the outfits, and the monitors. Any extra will go into a fund for upkeep and maintenance.”

  Sophia regarded Mistress Heather with a neutral expression on her face, and the manager slipped a few pegs in my esteem. I would never disrespect or defy her, but until she had my Mistress’s stamp of approval, she was nothing in my eyes.

  “I’m not sure I’m crazy about this scenario.”

  I wandered away. No order had been given requiring me to stay close to Mistress or Chef, and nobody called after me to correct my behavior, so I kept going. All the slaves had their wrists bound above their heads. The rope was attached to a chain that disappeared into the rafters over the stage. Shackles, spreader bars, and chains moored to the stage floor kept their feet in position. Other than that, the slaves wore minimal clothing. The women were dressed in lacy panties and bras, and the men wore leather shorts. Nothing was truly left to the imagination.

  Searching face after face, I found that none of the slaves were afraid. Each had that look of anticipation and fear that slaves had when they didn’t know exactly what was about to happen. Dominants found it sexy the same way I was drawn to a firmly set jaw.

  I stopped at the last one, a woman who kept her eyes downcast. Whenever a prospective Dom got too close, her guard intervened. He let them close enough to sniff her hair, and one Dom knelt to sniff her pussy, but he didn’t let them come into actual contact.

  The slave never once lifted her gaze. She had been trained by an exacting Master, and she was probably looking for more of the same. Geordie had been exacting. Mistress was not. She had demands and rules, but she didn’t try to obliterate my identity. Some of that may have had to do with the boundaries I’d set, but I honestly couldn’t see her ever going that far.

  That meant a lot to me.

  “Do you want her?”

  Mistress’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. Aunt Danielle had remarked several times that I had moments where I appeared dark and brooding. Since I had been brooding, I wondered if it had shown on my face and if Mistress had misinterpreted it for an interest in the slave on display.

  I shook my head. “Thank you, Mistress, but I don’t want anybody except you and Chef.”

  She put her hand in mine and tugged me around to face her. She wore a curious expression, and I had the feeling of being dissected by her for the first time. Perhaps I had been wrong about how exacting she could be. Drew had said that Sophia wanted to ease into the dynamic. Perhaps her lack of demands meant she was taking her time?

  “Neal, if you want her, I will get her for us.”

  Behind her, Drew let loose a long stream of air, and I figured that he liked girl-on-girl action. It held no appeal for me. I bit my lip, torn between giving Mistress an honest answer and getting a second woman for Drew.

  At last, I made my decision. No lies. “I do not want her, Mistress. I came over here to see what was going on, to make sure the slaves here truly wanted to be here. You were upset, and I wanted to do what I could to help.”

  She slid her arms around my neck and brought me closer for a kiss. The glide of her lips over mine made me tingle. She kept it light, a reward, perhaps, for being concerned about her feelings.

  We stayed for the auction. The actuality of it was quite uneventful. With so few people in the audience, only two of the slaves were purchased. I felt bad for the two who hadn’t garnered a single bid. To be publicly unwanted had to suck big time.

  Mistress followed the male and female who had been purchased t
o a nearby building. From the outside, it looked like a swanky house. Dual staircases curved up to a large verandah. The double doors of the entrance had been flung open. Light and music spilled outside, but the sound of voices was muted.

  “There’s nobody here,” Drew said, voicing my thought. “Sabrina is going to have to work miracles with the marketing.”

  Sophia shrugged. “Once it’s remodeled, she can publicize that and the fact it’s under new management. Ellen and Jonas are known in BDSM circles around the world. It’s not an insurmountable task.”

  I remembered Ellen from Sensual Secrets and Jonas from the time he’d brought his wife over to be flogged by Mistress.

  The slaves were led to different rooms. One disappeared into a private room with his new Master and the monitor. The female slave’s Master chose a room that had a glass wall and a dungeon theme. He buckled leather cuffs onto her wrists and ankles, then he used snaps to attach them to the wall. Her naked body, which was sexy enough, but not in comparison with Mistress’s, faced the Dom. The small crowd that had gathered on our side of the glass had a clear view. Once he started flogging her, Mistress rolled her eyes and pushed her way out of the crowd.

  When we were out of earshot, she shook her head. “He’s harmless. Not much of a sadist. He knows what he’s doing. I think he knows her. They must have an exhibitionist thing going on.

  She ran her finger down my chest. “Drew, I think we should see if there’s an open room here and try out the facilities.”

  Drew nodded. “That’s an excellent idea. I want to flog him.”

  Mistress whipped her head around and regarded him open-mouthed.

  With one finger, he pushed her jaw shut. “You can teach me.”

  I didn’t need to be consulted on this new development. If I had a problem with it, then I had a safe word I could use.

  The private rooms, it seemed, lacked the panache of the exhibitionist rooms. A monitor had unlocked the room and left us inside. It featured a cheap hotel bed, a spanking bench, an old Saint Andrew’s cross, and various places to attach bondage gear. The red-and-gold color scheme complimented the dark wood of the floors, but its heyday had long ago passed.