Reformat_of_Art_of_Submission_5-16-14-3

by Michelle

  Kellie picked up the dress and let it fall over her body like a soft waterfall. It took her a few minutes to situate the straps so the v-neckline didn’t reveal more than she cared to show. The hem fell just below her knee with a slight flare that made it move every time she did.

  The shoes were going to kill her by the end of the night but she liked the extra inches they gave her.

  One more thing before she left. Kellie easily found the guest room but not her suitcase. She opened the closet, thinking Mrs. Pine might have set it out of sight. The case lay on the floor, but its contents were already on hangers. She smiled, ready to have her moment of defiance, and slipped a knee-length black jacket off the hanger.

  Early spring in northern Texas meant lightning fast weather changes. Comfortably warm days often meant cool nights and she didn’t want to freeze in Mark’s idea of evening wear. The black lightweight jacket was perfect for a night like tonight.

  George was waiting at the door. His head wagged when he saw the jacket but didn’t berate her. He took her straight to the car and handed her into the back seat. Ten minutes later, he walked her into Private Delights.

  Chapter 20

  It was six thirty, early for the club scene, and Kellie had looked twice at the number of cars in the lot.

  For the first time, she was here as Mark’s submissive instead of a researcher. A niggling shiver of awareness slid down her spine when the elevator opened and she faced him.

  Shoulders squared, she tucked her chin to her chest and waited for his acknowledgement.

  “Good evening, little one.”

  “Master.”

  His fingers brushed the collar of the jacket. “I don’t believe this was part of the ensemble I requested.”

  “I’m sorry, but the weather report predicted a cold front.”

  “Thank you for getting her here, George.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Kellie could hear the humor in the driver’s voice, and knew Mark planned to give her hell about the jacket.

  “Come with me.” Mark’s soft demand brought the shiver back into focus. She followed him to the elevator and waited for his next directive.

  No comments, no physical contact, just silence filled the air around them. When the short ride ended, she followed him down the hall and into his office.

  With her eyes on the floor, she might assume another man spoke to her. A man with cold steel in his voice. “It saddens me to see how little you trust me, Kellie.”

  She opened her mouth to deny it but he gave her no chance.

  “Strip. Everything but the shoes go on the chair.”

  The disappointment in his tone rubbed like sand against her skin, chaffing at her heart. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t disrespect me by arguing.”

  It took moments to rid herself of the jacket and dress, increments of time she wanted to give back to Mark. What she’d thought of as a tease, he’d taken as an affront to his dominance.

  “On your knees, feet together, knees apart.

  Kellie dropped into the submissive position, her eyes on his feet while she fought tears. Just when she’d acknowledged her feelings for Mark, she’d hurt him.

  “I thought we’d built trust, little one.”

  He paced around her, the sound of his voice moving through the room to match his steps. “As your master, it is my job to take care of you in all ways. By submitting to me, you give me total control of your mind and body.”

  Mark stopped behind her and Kellie whimpered at his light touch on the back of her neck. “I would never ask you to go without a coat in cold weather. How could you think so little of me?”

  Tears trickled down her cheeks as he stepped in front of her.

  Mark’s finger traced a tear to the corner of her mouth, then crooked the finger under her chin and tipped her face to his. Kellie’s chest tightened at his expression.

  Not a hint of anger. Instead, sadness resided there because of her actions.

  “I had a coat delivered here for you this afternoon.” One corner of his lips turned up a bit. “I watch the weather, too, little one.”

  “I’m sorry, Master. So sorry. I’m not used to having someone take care of me.”

  Mark nodded and walked away. He moved some papers around on his desk, picked up his cell to check messages, made her wait for his attention.

  Time dragged while she stayed in the submissive pose.

  She deserved his distance.

  He didn’t lift his head, but said, “What more can I do to earn the trust that should already be mine?”

  “I want to trust you, Master.”

  “But you can’t?” His words fell like stones into a pond, lost except for the ripples of regret.

  She wanted to, but wanting and doing were worlds apart. “I’d like to learn how.”

  Mark’s head jerked up, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t trust anyone?”

  It was easier to focus on the floor than on his face. “I was taught to be self-sufficient when I was a kid. I’ve never really thought about having someone take care of me. It’s been my job for as long as I can remember.”

  “That’s changing, as of right now.”

  The wheels on his office chair rumbled as he sat and picked up his phone. He spoke to someone, probably Derek, about the construction project while she waited in full submission across the room. One call led to another and the discomfort in her knees and back moved closer to pain.

  She endured. For him.

  “I haven’t decided on your punishment.” Soft and low, he spoke from across the room and her chest bloomed with hope. He wasn’t removing her from his life, even though they’d only been together a week.

  “I don’t want to act hastily, and I want to consider your past experience with trust and self-reliance.”

  The tick-tick-tick of something tapping on his desk unnerved her. The lack of experience in the punishment phase of a D/s relationship worried the bejesus out of her. Pain had never been her friend, but she recognized his need to exert his dominance. Focused on her own thoughts, Kellie didn’t realize his approach until his hand rested on her crown and warm fingers burrowed into her hair.

  “It’s time to go to dinner.”

  She gulped in air. The restaurant. No clothes. Oh, God.

  He must have felt the sudden tension in her body.

  “Unfortunately, health laws require clothing in all restaurants, even mine. Wear the dress and shoes, but nothing else.”

  Mark extended a hand to help her to her feet, and then stood with arms crossed while she pulled the dress over her head and adjusted the straps on her shoulders.

  “Wrists in front.”

  The gunmetal gray cuffs were cold against her skin when he tightened them and she whimpered when he slipped the blindfold over her head. He adjusted the strap until it fit snug against her eyes.

  Mark’s warm breath eased across her bare shoulder. “This is not your consequence, little one. It’s merely a lesson in trust.”

  His hand polished her shoulder. Slid to her wrist and back up her body to cup her breast through the thin fabric. “So beautiful.”

  His thumb rubbed back and forth across the nipple and she gasped. “We’re going to dinner. You will trust me to get you there without sight or fright. I’ll feed you, take complete care of you. Understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Mark’s hand wrapped around her upper arm, hot and rough to the touch but gentile with his grip. “Feel the movements of my body, my steps, and stay with me. Concentrate on what you feel and hear.”

  In darkness, Kellie breathed in and out and tried to relax. She knew he would never intentionally hurt her, but suddenly the game of submission was real and terrifying.

  Trust was a hard thing to learn.

  He stepped out and she moved with him, hesitant with her gait but keeping up with him. He paused and she heard the door’s latch when it opened. They moved forward and she recognized the snick of the door
closing.

  Mildred worked as they walked past, the quick clicks from her keyboard loud in the otherwise silent room.

  She moved with him and each step was easier to follow. The elevator ride was a little disconcerting and her head spun for a moment, but once they stepped back on solid ground, her sense of balance acclimated. Several male voices greeted Mark while they made their way down the hall and Kellie recognized the soft music and clink of silverware on china when they entered the restaurant.

  Mark moved them smoothly to his table and sat her on the leather seat. She started to put her hand down next to her hip but stopped short, waiting for his direction.

  “Good girl, little one. Slide over a bit.”

  With a sigh, she moved around the banquette until he put a hand on her thigh. Finally, she’d pleased him.

  He ordered for both of them, then offered her a sip of iced tea by lifting the glass and placing it on her bottom lip. He was careful, never spilling a drop of tea or a bite of food, and after a few minutes it seemed like any other meal with Mark. He asked about her day at work, her visit to her condo, and about her family.

  She shied away from the latter, telling him about her childhood in general terms. “My father died several years ago and my mother lives in Idaho with her husband. We don’t talk much. We’re different people.”

  He wanted more from her, but she didn’t want to share her past with anyone, especially a man she was beginning to care about.

  Who was she kidding? The beginning part of caring had come and gone. She felt something for Mark, something deep and pervasive.

  “Come, Kellie. It’s time to go back upstairs.”

  Mark moved out of the booth and she followed, scooting until she found the edge of the bench and then she stopped. His hand enveloped her upper arm and she heard the pleasure in his voice when he praised her act of trust. As they exited the restaurant, he guided her to the left and while they waited for the elevator, he said, “Now, little one, we’ll see about the consequence of your defiance.”

  Kellie was glad for the blindfold, sure he wouldn’t appreciate the fear in her eyes.

  She heard the beep of a keycard access and tried not to think about what he might have planned. Trust. She used the word as a mantra in her head as they went into the room. A chill in the air made her think the space wasn’t often used and she wondered if it was Mark’s private playroom or if it might be a designated punishment room.

  Mark stopped and let go of her arm. She stood for a moment and absorbed the sounds of the room. Not much to hear, but the scent of leather worried her. He unlocked one of the cuffs.

  “Arms up.” Kellie complied and he pulled the dress over her head. The handcuff was replaced and Mark’s heat dissipated. He’d walked away.

  A low mechanical hum invaded her head for a moment and then stopped. Hands that didn’t feel like Mark’s cupped her ankle and wrapped a wide belt around it, then did the same on the other side. Kellie pressed her lips together and focused on trust. Mark was here somewhere and she had to show him she could handle whatever he gave her.

  His voice sounded loud in the quiet room when he said, “Shoes off, little one.” Hands wrapped around hers to stabilize her body while the shoes were removed.

  His hands. She squeezed his fingers and he allowed it, even acknowledged it with a squeeze of his own. When her shoes were off, so were his hands.

  Rough fingers settled on her shoulders then burrowed into her hair, separating it into two sections and moving the hair to the front of her body.

  And then her wrists rose into the air. Her legs were spread and attached to something heavy.

  The sudden addition of light hurt her eyes and she blinked furiously until the room came into focus. The wall across from her held an array of whips, paddles, and items she didn’t recognize. The blindfold was in Mark’s hand and Derek stood next to him.

  “We’ve worked on trust tonight. Now it’s time to discuss discipline.”

  With her feet barely touching the floor and her arms well above her head, she had no choice. Mark’s face was her only option, and what she saw there frightened her.

  His face had been wiped clean of all emotion, his hand cradling the blindfold hung at his side while the other hid in his pocket.

  “Tonight, at this moment, I hope to teach you to obey my directives and trust me to take care of you in all things. Defiance is unacceptable.”

  Mark turned and went to the wall, where he lifted a coil of leather. When he returned to Derek’s side, he handed his friend the handle and she watched it unfurl.

  A whip, the handle sized for a man’s hand, a good foot in length with a rod wrapped in the same leather as the braid and tail. Derek took the weapon and let his hand fall to his side. The tail lay on the floor next to him, at least two feet of excess waiting to touch her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Mark.

  He nodded. “Neither of us will take pleasure in this, Kellie. I can barely watch.”

  Mark looked to his friend and with a nod, Derek moved behind her.

  The whipped cracked and the echo in the room made her jump, but nothing touched her. The next sound was paired with fire lancing across her back. She cried out and looked a Mark. He stood stoic as the next lash landed near her shoulder. Tears rolled down her face as the burn intensified.

  Five brands landed across her back, then silence.

  Derek walked past her with the whip and put it away. On his way to the door, he stopped and brushed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry, too, sweetheart.”

  She heard the door open and close. Lifting her eyes, she found Mark sprawled in a chair a few feet back from where he’d stood.

  The silence surrounded them for some time, and Kellie tired of keeping her eyes on him. The stretch of her arms above and her feet anchored to the floor wore on her and her chin dropped, sagged as much as her body allowed.

  “Derek is excellent with a whip. The pain will fade in a few hours and there won’t be any scarring. I hope we don’t have to do this again.”

  She said the only words she could. “Yes, Master.”

  Chapter 21

  Mark released her feet and lowered the bar enough to free the cuffs from the ceiling hook. As carefully as possible, he lifted Kellie and laid her on the bed in the room. Removing the cuffs, he chaffed at her wrists to take out the stiffness and rolled her onto her stomach.

  Five lashes stood prominently across her back, deep red but the skin unbroken. Derek was one of his best friends, one he truly trusted with Kellie’s welfare, and the only man he knew who could inflict pain with a whip without drawing blood or leaving a scar.

  He certainly couldn’t have done this himself. Fucking hell. When she’d arrived in that ugly jacket, his blood had boiled over to the point he knew he couldn’t be the one to discipline her.

  So he waited. Took time to calm down and use his brain instead of his hand. A legacy from his grandfather. Haste and anger never worked well together.

  Now he waited to see if she stayed or ran from him like hell hounds were on her trail.

  He found a light sheet and covered her carefully, then sat beside her. His fingers found the soft hair at the back of her neck. He couldn’t stop touching her.

  Her head lifted and a whimper slipped free of her mouth. Mark leaned close.

  “Rest, little one. It’s over, and sleep will help you feel better.”

  She whispered his name, not master, and his heart sank at the loss of his honorarium. She would leave him. It was only a matter of time.

  His name came again, a murmur repeated and he leaned closer to hear the words. “Mark, don’t leave me...please, don’t....”

  He flattened his body to the bed, stretched out next to her, nose to nose. “Never, my love. Never.”

  She crooned back to him, words he couldn’t understand but welcomed. “Sleep, little one. I’ll be back soon to take you home.”

  He waited until her breathing settled into a soft, even
pattern before he left to take care of a few things on his desk.

  Derek waited on the other side of the door.

  “Thanks for your help.”

  Derek fell into step with him, heading to his office, neither of them speaking until the door shut behind them.

  “Mind telling my why I whipped your sub when we both know damn well you’re as good as I am with a cattail?”

  “I don’t have much perspective where she’s concerned.”

  “Really. Want to know what I think?”

  “No.” Mark growled.

  “Too bad. I think you’re afraid she’ll see the true Dom and run screaming. Am I close?”

  Mark sank into a chair and checked the ceiling for stains. “Not even close.”

  “So tell me what’s happening.” Derek sat across from him and stared, waiting for an answer he didn’t want to give.

  “Such a small act of defiance, and I was livid. I’ve never reacted so fast and so furious. I was sure I’d strip skin from her back if I held the whip tonight.”

  Derek whistled low. “Damn. Never imagined you that mad. It happens often?”

  “Never. This was a first.” Mark leaned forward in his seat and braced his arms on his thighs. “What’s happening to me?”

  “Ever been in love?” Derek asked.

  “What does that have to do with this rage inside me?”

  “It’s been my understanding that falling in love makes normal men crazy. And you, my friend, have been crazy for the last two days.”

  “Shit.”

  Derek went to the wet bar and poured both of them a shot of Jack. Neither were big drinkers, but when fate kicked a man in the ass, he needed something to kick back. A strong shot just might do the trick.

  The liquor went down smooth and warmed him all the way to his gut. Derek helped by changing the subject and they worked on plans for the new club in Austin, tentatively named Private Games. Of course, it would most likely change several times before the marquee was built.

  An hour passed, then part of another.