Sub Mission

by Ts McKinney

  When I frowned, Landon quipped, “Have you seen yourself, kid? I knew he’d have a hard-on for you the instant he saw your lips and eyelashes.”

  I blinked. “What’s wrong with my eyelashes?”

  The elevator door slid open. Landon stepped out and motioned for me to do the same. Under his breath, I heard him say, “Not a damned thing, kid.”

  Any response I might have considered would have been drowned out by his sudden banging on Agent Wilkinson’s door. He was being loud and annoying on purpose, causing me to bite back a smile. “You realize you probably aren’t helping the situation, right? Getting on his nerves first thing,” I said.

  He grinned. “Don’t take my fun away from me, Agent Daley.”

  “Okay.”

  After another few seconds of pounding, he stopped, looked at me, and asked, “Why don’t you call me Sir, like you do with Seth?”

  I smiled. “Would you like me to?” I wouldn’t mind calling him ‘Sir’, but only because he was my superior in The Company, not for the same reasons I addressed Seth that way.

  “Nah, it creeps me out. Just keep ignoring me like you’ve been doing. I’m good with that…until it’s time to talk business. Then you’d best listen to every damned word Seth or I tell you. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  The door flung open, and Seth stood there, in all his masculine glory. I’d had more encounters with Doms than I could count—that simply happened when one frequented the clubs— but none of them had ever made me stop and just look at their…magnificence. Seth was a gorgeous man. He had bulky muscles but still managed to make them appear natural, and I’d already noticed he moved with a grace that screamed how comfortable he was in his body. He had one full tattoo sleeve and several gorgeous designs on his chest. A true artist had done his ink work.

  “Well, lookee at you, all dressed up in your leathers,” Landon teased. “I forgot just how intimidating you look when dressed the part.” He turned to look at me. “What do you think, Agent Daley? Does he look anything like your Domme?”

  “Ha—ha. Very funny,” I joked. I looked Seth up and down, showing he wasn’t going to intimidate me, even if he did Landon, and said, “Her leather shows her curves off better.”

  Landon bent over laughing but Seth glared at me. “What happened to the well-trained sub I met earlier? Were you faking it then, boy?”

  I met his glare. “No, Agent Wilkinson, but you made it perfectly clear you weren’t interested in me subbing for you. If you want my respect now, you’ll need to earn it. In the playroom, of course.”

  Every instinct in me screamed that I submit to him, to show him the respect I knew without hesitation he deserved, but Seth had forced my hand. If he was unwilling to look at me as an equal partner in a Dom/sub role, I wasn’t interested in submitting. If everybody looked at it honestly, I was the one really putting myself out there. I was straight, Seth was gay. Seth liked fucking his sub. Me? Not into that so much.

  Sure, I’d researched everything I could find on Agent Wilkinson. Unlike him, I hadn’t gone into this totally blind. Seth wasn’t aware of it, but I’d even witnessed one of his scenes at his favorite local club. He was…intense. I’d watched other Doms perform, but none of them had ever interested me…not until I’d watched Seth. He’d never know that, of course.

  Landon arched a brow. “I guess he told you,” he teased Seth.

  There was, however, a worried expression on his face. He hadn’t known the angle I’d planned on playing with Seth. Looking between the two of them, it was difficult to tell which one wanted to throttle me more.

  Seth crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at me. I glared back. I knew how to be the perfect sub. I also knew how to play hardball. I wanted this assignment. People—subs, like me—were being tortured and murdered. I wanted to take them out and planned on doing it, with or without the help of Seth.

  “No, boy, we decided you’d get one session to prove you’d be capable of fooling the people trolling Javier’s BDSM club and then kidnapping, torturing, and murdering subs that played there. Am I mistaken?”

  I really wished he’d come up with a different nickname than boy. I didn’t like it. Of course, I didn’t see Seth Wilkinson ever calling me cute names like Angel or Kitten, either. I also had to admit that he was correct, we had agreed on the one session which meant he was still my potential Dom and me his sub. So much for drawing a line in the sand. I dropped my head and said, “I apologize, Sir.”

  “My playroom is the second door on the right, down the hall. Go inside and prepare for me.”

  I started past him, but he stopped me with a hand on my chest. “Whatever you have in the bag, you won’t need it. I like my sub completely naked. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No, Sir.” Asshole.

  “Landon has sat in on the other sessions. Do you have issues with an audience?” he asked.

  I could tell he was just dying for me to fuck this up, to show him a weakness. Oh, he was going to be so damned disappointed. “No, Sir. I enjoy an audience.” I carefully placed my duffel bag next to the door and waited for him to allow me to pass.

  He placed a finger beneath my chin and pushed my face up. “Is that so? Did I ask if you enjoyed an audience?”

  I swallowed. “No, Sir.”

  “What is your role in my playroom, boy?”

  “For your enjoyment, Sir.” I really did want to punch him in the face. Before the next hour passed, I probably would.

  “Second door on the right,” he finally said.

  I breezed past him but not before hearing Landon say, “You guys are so fucked up.”

  I smiled, understanding how an outsider might not understand or find pleasure in the dynamics of BDSM. That was Landon’s loss. I enjoyed being a sub and couldn’t imagine subbing for a Dom, instead of a Domme, could be that different. I struggled with OCD issues and subbing gave me the opportunity to step away and allow someone to force me to give that control up. Hopefully, Seth was as good as I’d heard, and he would have me flying free within the next hour.

  When I reached the second door, I eased it open and stepped inside. I wasn’t sure how long Seth would give me and knew I should hurry into position, but what I saw in front of me caused me to freeze right inside the doorway. Seth’ playroom was…extraordinary. There was more sex furniture in his playroom than there was in the club where Mistress Samantha and I had our scenes. Some of it I recognized, some looked totally new and piqued my interest. Given enough time, I was certain I could figure each of them out, but Seth had made it clear he wouldn’t appreciate if I made him wait.

  With just a quick glance toward the King-sized iron bed in the far corner, I stepped to the side of the door and began removing my clothes. Being naked in front of Seth and Landon wasn’t a biggie, I did it all the time with Mistress Samantha. A large crowd usually enjoyed watching us play. While it really wasn’t my thing, I’d learned to deal with it because my Mistress enjoyed it. As I folded the last article of clothing and placed everything in a neat pile against the wall, I assured myself this scene wouldn’t be any different than what I was accustomed to.

  I took a deep, cleansing breath, and dropped to my knees. I wasn’t sure what waiting position Seth desired his subs to use, so I went with one I was comfortable with. I’d played with over fifteen Dommes over the years and they’d each wanted different things. My knees were spread, not obscenely but wide enough for my partner to have a clear view of my cock and balls. My ass rested on the back of my heels and my hands were clasped behind my back.

  While I waited for him to make an entrance, I studied the furniture a bit closer. I recognized an obedience bench with restraint straps attached, a bondage horse, puppy cage, and another punishment bench with a lot of various attachments, none that really interested me. An enema bag hung above it and there was a place for a dildo attachment. The enema was a definite no and the dildo wasn’t my thing, but I knew Seth would go there directly in an attempt to mak
e me run. A Saint Andrew’s Cross was in the middle of the room and the rest of the furniture was foreign to me. In the corner opposite the large bed, there was a metal cabinet. The items in there should probably worry me.

  The turning of the doorknob caused me to drop my head, resting my chin against my chest. When Seth and Landon walked in, closing the door behind them, I felt the familiar calmness begin to wash over me. It was strange how I could be calm and sexually excited at the same time…but I managed. My cock was hard and proudly stood away from my body. If he kept me waiting much longer, I’d drip precum onto his clean floors. Mistress Samantha always spanked me for making a mess.

  “Your chair is in the same spot, Landon. Have a seat and enjoy the show,” Seth said. When he was in Dom mode, his voice sounded more like a growl. It was so very different than any Mistress but still managed to make my cock twitch.

  “I don’t expect him to last any longer than the others.”

  With my head bowed, I was able to bite my bottom lip to keep from telling him to go fuck himself. He was goading me, I knew it and he knew it. I loved being whipped, whether it be a paddle, flogger, whip, or bare hand. He’d have to be incredibly bad to fuck up a session with me.

  “Head up, boy.”

  I raised my eyes and tried to hide the rebellion I suspected lurked in the depths.

  “What’s your safe word?”

  Uh oh. He wasn’t going to like this. “Rainbow, Sir.”

  He simply snorted…in disgust. “Hard limits?”

  “No water play, blood-letting, humiliation…that I know of, Sir.” I hesitated and then added, “No kissing on the lips.”

  “Is that always a hard limit or a new one designed just for sweet little me?” Seth mocked.

  “It’s always a hard limit for me, Sir.” Seriously? He thought I’d be afraid to kiss him, but letting him cram instruments of torture up my ass would be okay?

  “Interesting,” he muttered. Looking around the room, he asked, “Do you recognize most of my equipment, boy?”

  I took a deep breath and decided now was as good a time as any. “I prefer not to be called boy, Sir,” I told him, trying to sound as submissive as possible.

  “Is that a hard limit?” he asked politely.

  Son of a bitch! “No, Sir.”

  “Good, then you’ll be boy until you earn a more deserving nickname. What does your Domme call you now? Sweetheart? Darling? Angel? Puppy?”

  He was mocking me. I should have let the boy thing go. I was giving him ammunition to use against me. “She calls me Baker, Sir. I apologize. I overstepped.”

  “Again.”

  I stopped the growl that begged to be released. “Again, Sir. I’ll do better.”

  “Of course you will, boy.” He motioned with his hand and said, “Follow me.”

  Just as I’d expected, we walked toward the dreaded metal cabinet. I’d reached that whole ‘put up or shut up’ moment. He made a big production of opening the cabinet doors and then stepped aside, giving me full view of his garage of goodies.

  Mother fuck.

  Goddamn the man enjoyed ass play.

  I played mind games to try and keep my pulse rate slow and steady. From the smirk on his face, I failed.

  “I’ve spoken with Mistress Samantha, boy. She tells me you are an excellent sub, very obedient and loves to have your ass whipped.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Finally…something besides my usual ‘No, Sir’.

  “When we spoke back in Landon’s office, you alluded to the fact that you wouldn’t have any problems with anal…toys. As a matter of fact, you said it with such a lofty attitude that I was certain Mistress Samantha would more than likely tell me you were pegged on a regular basis.” He scratched his chin and I worked to keep my face impassive.

  I knew what he referred to, but I’d never tried it. Never wanted to. Still didn’t.

  “Imagine my surprise when she told me you and she had played with small butt plugs…and not very often. Do you think I was surprised to hear that, boy?”

  “No, Sir.” I was back to my familiar response.

  “You’ve disappointed me, boy, and I feel the need to punish you for it. Do you agree you should be punished?”

  I fought back a grin. “Yes, Sir.” Maybe I could start giving myself little notches of victory whenever I said something other than ‘no, Sir’?

  “Excellent. I have a special toy that I’ve chosen for that pert…yet, untried ass of yours. Would you like to go with what I’ve selected, or do you want to choose for yourself?”

  It was a trick question, no doubt. My eyes flickered to the six shelves of oddly shaped contraptions, noting that the drawers pulled out which meant they were probably overflowing with fun, and then back to Seth. The grin on his face looked just as dangerous as the toys. He probably had a nine-inch, super thick dildo just waiting to shove up my ass. My eyes wandered back to the cabinet. Surely to fuck there was something in there that wasn’t obscenely huge.

  I squinted and realized that if there was something small, it was clearly hiding near the back of the shelves.

  “Oh…and you can only make your selection from the second shelf,” he added, his grin widening.

  Why was he doing this? Couldn’t he just suck it up and work with me just for the assignment? Hell, we’d be doing good things. Saving lives. Instead, he was dead set on tormenting me into dropping out.

  “May I pull the shelf out, Sir?” I asked.

  He stepped aside. “By all means.”

  I pulled the shelf out and almost did a happy dance when I saw the back row of the second shelf held some beginner butt plugs. My hand extended forward, and I hated that it trembled slightly as I reached for the next to the smallest device. It was shaped oddly and made from black silicone. It was definitely a size I could handle.

  “This one, Sir.” I handed him the plug.

  “Fabulous selection, boy. You’ll enjoy it immensely.” He reached into another section of the cabinet and pulled out some wiring and a remote.

  Uh oh.

  “Would you like to see what I’d selected for you?” he asked as he hooked the wiring to the plug I’d selected.

  My eyes widened when I saw the plug start to vibrate before he pushed a button on the remote, quieting it down again. When my mind finally cleared, I answered, “Uh, yeah. I guess. Sir.” My mind kept conjuring up a picture of how wildly the small toy had vibrated. How would that feel? The plug Mistress Samantha used didn’t vibrate. My biggest concern had been keeping it inside of me, not whether or not it would cause my ass to jiggle when the remote was activated.

  He bent over and picked up a small shopping bag. “I called your Mistress on my drive over, and when she gave me your safe word, which I appreciate you not lying about by the way, I had to stop by my favorite toy store and pick up something just for you.” He pushed the bag toward me and said, “Go ahead. See what you missed out on.”

  I peeked into the bag and felt my eyes roll. Tucked in the bag was a butt plug with a rainbow colored furry tail attached. “Ha-ha, Sir. That would have been hilarious.”

  “I thought so,” he answered. “I also thought it would look gorgeous dangling between your legs when I bent you over one of my benches and spanked your ass good enough that it would match the pretty pink of your rainbow tail.”

  His words did something to me…something they probably shouldn’t have. My cock twitched. Being naked, it was impossible for me to hide my reactions to anything he chose to do to me. Or, as in this case, say to me.

  “Oh, well. Perhaps another time.” He reached into the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of something I figured must be lube. “Go over to the spanking bench, bend over, and spread your ass cheeks for me.” He smiled. “Boy.”

  That was it. I’d kill him before the hour was over. Inside my head, I called him every dirty, vile name I could think of. Verbally, I said, “Yes, Sir.” Yay, a victory point for me. Rah rah.

  I found the bench, bent over, took a deep br
eath, and reached behind me to pull my cheeks apart, exposing a part of me anyone rarely got a good look at. Okay, nobody ever got a good look at. Until Seth.

  My entire body burned with embarrassment.

  “Do you know what you selected, boy?” Seth asked as he lubed up the small toy.

  “A vibrating butt plug,” I said, not sure if my response sounded like an answer or a question.

  “Close. It’s called a prostate stimulator.” He leaned over and licked the spot below my ear. When my body quivered, he chuckled softly. “Have you ever had anyone play with your prostate?”

  Damn motherfucking Mistress Samantha for telling him everything. How many of my other erogenous spots did he know about?

  “No, Sir,” I grumbled. Point deducted.

  “I didn’t think so,” he answered. “Perhaps we’ll get to…one day.”

  What? He wasn’t going to use it?

  More importantly, why was I so disappointed by the possibility?

  He sat the toy aside and said, “Let’s move to the Saint Andrew’s Cross. I hear it’s a favorite of yours.” He smacked my ass and walked away from me. “Come on, Baker. Don’t dawdle.”

  Oh, shit. I was in serious trouble. The second he’d said my name…called me something other than boy, it had felt like his hand literally stroked the length of my cock. There was no questioning it, I was leaking precum and he hadn’t laid a hand on me yet. Well, other than one playful swat.

  Serious, serious trouble.

  Once we were both at the cross, he surprised me by twisting my body around to where it faced the cross, instead of having my back against it. Once there, he wasted no time latching my wrists into the leather cuffs attached at each corner and then moved to do the same to my ankles. His touch was rougher than I was accustomed to and ran up and down the length of each of my legs, stopping short of touching my balls. I wanted to whimper in disappointment but managed to hold it in.

  My eyes followed him as he moved around to the other side of the cross until he faced me. I frowned in confusion when he knelt in front of me. What. The. Fuck. His hands maneuvered the wood of his cross, causing the center to drop down to where it was even with my crotch. I looked down and watched as his hand, covered in soft leather gloves, reached through an opening in the wood, took my cock, and pulled it through the opening. The moment he touched me, a gasp escaped my lips. I told myself it was because I hadn’t expected the touch, but knew I was probably lying. I left it with the lie. It was much easier than accepting I enjoyed a man’s touch on my junk.