The Fear of Surrender

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by Morticia Knight




  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  A Totally Bound Publication

  The Fear of Surrender

  ISBN # 978-1-78430-434-8

  ©Copyright Morticia Knight 2015

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright February 2015

  Edited by Sue Meadows

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Melting and a Sexometer of 2.

  The Hampton Road Club

  THE FEAR OF SURRENDER

  Morticia Knight

  Book three in the Hampton Road Club series

  Master Thomas sees a submissive man aching for surrender. But can Linus be convinced not to fear The Hampton Road Club?

  Linus never wants to return to Hampton Road after being attacked by a Master there. Even though he aches for the attention of Master Thomas—the one who he’d originally wanted—he isn’t sure he can ever trust another Master not to abuse him again.

  Thomas is furious with himself for not protecting the beautiful young submissive whose company he’d enjoyed on a few occasions. He’s relieved that there have been some recent changes to help protect the men who offer themselves at the sadomasochism club. It’s about time to bring Hampton Road into the progressive age of the 1920s. Now that the new rules are in place, perhaps he can woo Linus into giving him a chance.

  As Thomas goes out of his way to be kind to him, Linus wonders if he’s misjudged the Master. He’s still not sure if there’s a future for them. What if he never wants to surrender to another man? When he allows Thomas to teach him the joys of Dominance and submission, Linus discovers that he not only wants to surrender, he wants to be claimed permanently. If only Thomas’ old life doesn’t come back to haunt them and destroy their chance of being together forever.

  Dedication

  Thank you to all of the readers who have embraced this series, and for those of you who asked for more after Gin & Jazz ☺

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Buick Convertible: General Motors

  Red Car: Pacific Electric

  Brilliantine: Ed. Pinaud

  Vaseline: Unilever

  Colt .45: Colt’s Manufacturing Company

  Chapter One

  Thomas leaned against the white sports car he’d purchased the year before when he’d lived in Santa Barbara. It was a 1925 Buick Convertible, and still looked as good as the day he’d bought it. There had been a new model out for ’26, but he was more prudent than that. As a professional bookkeeper, he knew that the careful use of a dollar was essential to creating a secure existence. But a sexy motorcar was still a nice addition to that existence.

  Crossing his arms in front of him, he remained on alert, scanning the surroundings of the Hampton Road Club from where he was parked in the long driveway. The three-story mansion, located in one of the richer areas of Pasadena, boasted elegant Tudor Revival architecture. He found it impressive, always had. It was the perfect setting for a gentlemen’s private sadomasochism club.

  A slight breeze helped cool the warm spring night, but it remained nice enough to ride in his open vehicle. He checked his pocket watch, a bit on edge and more than a little curious about what was happening inside the club at that moment. One of the heavy oak side doors to the house flew open and he straightened. Anger rose up, increasing his tension as soon as he spotted the culprit bursting from the home. The scoundrel appeared in a great hurry to leave.

  Preston Cornwall.

  His desire to run over and grab the snake before giving him a good thrashing was almost too irresistible, but he’d promised Aaron that he’d control himself. As one of the Masters, fellow board member, and his dearest friend, Aaron had assured him that Cornwall would be dealt with then tossed out of the club for good. Thomas was there to whisk away Kenneth, Preston’s boy. It had become necessary to step in after it was revealed that Preston was keeping Kenneth as a virtual prisoner as well as abusing him.

  And abusing Linus.

  He clenched his fists, nodding toward another good friend, Bruce. The hulking boxer stepped out of the shadows, blocking Preston’s path.

  “Get out of my way, you oaf,” Preston snarled.

  Bruce widened his stance, punching one fist into the other. “Talk like that’ll land you one in the kisser.”

  Preston stilled. He straightened, almost as if he dared Bruce to sock him one. Thomas ached to get closer, to see what Preston’s expression might reveal. It had become much too clear from the Master’s recent behavior that he’d gone off the rails. Kenneth had rescued Linus from his clutches and the other Dominant men of Hampton Road had taken it upon themselves to rescue Kenneth. Banishing Preston from the club permanently was the final part of their plan for the evening.

  “If you’re going to hit me, go on then and be done with it.” Preston’s voice was low, menacing. “I’ve had enough of this horseshit. But let’s be clear on one thing. All of you purported Masters may think you’ve won, but this isn’t over. It’ll never be over until I get my property back.”

  Thomas winced. Preston had only ever spoken of Kenneth or treated him as if he was little more than a possession that he could do with as he wished. His words only served to reinforce that perception.

  And there’s what he tried to do to Linus…

  He’d sworn to Aaron—as well as Saul and Theodore—that he would behave. But that still didn’t stop him from wanting to rip Preston apart—to make him feel as afraid and vulnerable as he had made Linus feel.

  Bruce stepped to one side to allow Preston to pass, but continued to glare at him, following behind the lunatic as he marched to his motorcar. As soon as Preston had stepped into the blue sedan then roared down the driveway to the street, Thomas relaxed somewhat. However, that didn’t answer his curiosity as to what had gone on inside while he’d been waiting in the driveway. Soon, his part in the evening�
�s scheme would come into play.

  “Thanks, Bruce.”

  Thomas called his friend over. Bruce and his fellow pugilist, George, had relocated from Santa Barbara to the Los Angeles area with Thomas to join Hampton Road permanently. It had been about six months before and Thomas was glad Aaron had talked him into it. The men of Hampton Road were honorable and the submissives delightful. He’d been embraced even more than he’d hoped for when he’d been asked to be a part of the board that ran the club.

  “Don’t worry about him none. He’s nothin’ but a big palooka. George an’ I can handle that rat.”

  Thomas clapped Bruce on the back, chuckling. “I have nothing but the utmost faith in you both.” He glanced around the mostly darkened area, frowning. Only the electrified lanterns by the door gave off any light. “Where is George, by the way?”

  He jumped as George slipped into the glow cast by the lamps, seemingly out of nowhere. With a hand over his thumping heart, he let out a shaky laugh. “Are you sure you’re not illusionists as well as prize fighters?”

  George, an even more thickly compacted version of his hombre, shook his head. “No, chief. We’re just light on our feet. Gotta move fast in the ring.”

  “Ah, yes.” Thomas smirked. “However, I’m not sure the same skills are required to master the submissive men here at the club.”

  Both men shrugged simultaneously and Thomas was reminded of why they worked so well together as Dominants—they were always so in tandem with each other. If they ever fell for the same boy and decided to keep him, that would be one lucky submissive.

  “Thomas!”

  He turned to see Aaron waving frantically at him as he exited the mansion.

  After thanking Bruce and George again, he trotted over to Aaron. He was anxious to know everything that had gone on when the confrontation with Preston had taken place and when Preston had discovered that Kenneth was done with him for good.

  “Well?”

  His friend was out of breath. “Change of plans. Kenneth is staying with Saul.”

  “He…?” Thomas broke into a smile. Things were much improved already. “That’s wonderful news.”

  “Yes, well, it is. But we have other problems now.”

  “Oh?”

  “Otis and a few of his cronies are demanding to see the owner of Hampton Road immediately. They’re questioning whether we did the right thing by interfering with Preston and Kenneth.” Aaron ran a hand through his hair, as if attempting to get the greased strands back in place. “The whole idea of doing the nominations tonight for board membership has gone to hell too.”

  Thomas pressed his lips together as he considered the turn of events. Otis had proven himself to be the one board member the most resistant to the idea of establishing rules to protect the safety of the submissives at the club. Initially, Thomas had been somewhat in agreement with Otis. He’d had his own issues with how easily the implementation of rules in the wrong hands could cause harm, but he’d relented once he’d witnessed Kenneth’s abuse for himself. After he’d also found out what Preston had done to Linus and that Kenneth hadn’t consented to much of what had been done to him, he’d come to agree that there did need to be at least some policies put into place. But there were still those who disagreed with that stance.

  “Isn’t it rather abrupt to try and bring the owner down here right now?”

  Aaron grimaced slightly. He’d seemed unsettled since rushing from the home. In the few years Thomas had known Aaron, he’d never seen the typically serene man so on edge. Aaron was almost ten years older than Thomas’ twenty-six, so he’d naturally looked up to him as a mentor or big brother.

  “That’s just the thing. Saul has promised Otis and the other men that he can produce said owner in thirty minutes.” Aaron looked as if he was in pain. “That doesn’t seem likely, but he sent me out here to give you new instructions while I can only assume he’s contacting him.”

  Thomas was perplexed by the whole thing. He was the newest person on the board, so he presumed that there was much he had to learn about in respect to the inner workings of the club. “It would seem that Hampton Road’s anonymous owner is about to be revealed.”

  Aaron sighed. “It would appear that way.” He shook himself as if he was trying to wake up. “Right. What Saul needs you to do is to run up to my place and retrieve Sam, Francesco and Linus then bring them back here. That way, they can keep Kenneth company while we all handle the situation with Otis. As you can imagine, poor Kenneth is rather upset and doesn’t want to be left alone.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  Thomas couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting. It would be good to have Sam, Aaron’s boy and Francesco, Theodore’s boy with Kenneth. Even though it had been intended for Linus and Kenneth to live in Sam and Aaron’s guesthouse, they hadn’t seen each other since the night Kenneth had saved the young man from Preston. Linus was so sensitive, so shy.

  “Thomas?”

  He jerked up his head, not realizing how lost in his thoughts he’d been. “Sorry, Aaron. I… Do you think it’s prudent for Linus to come back here? He told both you and Saul he never wanted to return after what happened.”

  “Yes, but…” Aaron pursed his lips. “Shit. Of course. He was thinking we’d be bringing Kenneth to him, not the other way around.” Aaron regarded him with pleading eyes. “Despite his feelings about Hampton Road, he likes you. You told me yourself that those few times you interacted with him that both of you got on well. I’m sure if Preston hadn’t…” Aaron cleared his throat. “Anyway, if you explain that Kenneth needs him and that Sam and Francesco are going…”

  Thomas nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  A loud sigh came out of Aaron. “Excellent. Here’s the key to get back in with the boys, we’re locking it up for tonight. We don’t want any more men coming in and we want to make sure Preston doesn’t return.” Aaron dropped the key in Thomas’ hand. “Oh, and Saul said to tell the valet to put the black wreath up on the gate after you leave. That way everyone will know that we’re closed.”

  “Good idea. I’m off then.”

  “Quick as you can?”

  “Quick as I can convince a traumatized young man that he won’t come to harm at Hampton Road again.”

  * * * *

  “Do you think Kenneth will like helping with the plants?” Sam kept peering out of the window then pacing around the room.

  Linus was still trying to get accustomed to the non-stop energy of Sam and Francesco. They were both different in the sense that Sam ached to please everyone around him whereas Francesco ached to see how much he could get away with before getting caught by Master Theodore. But they were identical in seemingly unlimited reserves of liveliness. All of them were within a year of one another in age. Francesco was the oldest—almost twenty-one. Sam had just turned nineteen and Linus was in between them both. Kenneth was another matter altogether. The man who’d put himself in harm’s way to protect Linus was probably in his late thirties.

  “He’ll probably do anything to get away from that nasty Cornwall fellow. He was no Master.” Lying back on one of the two single beds set up for Linus and Kenneth, Francesco fiddled with the collar around his neck that signified his commitment to Theodore. “But I’m sure there are much worse things than taking care of a bunch of plants.”

  “That’s not nice.” Sam had his hands on his hips and an indignant expression. His lips were pressed together and he glared at Francesco with a harsh frown. Linus knew how much Sam treasured his nursery. “What’s wrong with taking care of plants anyway?”

  The two friends bickered back and forth about the merits of growing things and Linus’ mind drifted to his own situation. It had been arranged that both Kenneth and Linus could work at Sam and Aaron’s nursery until they’d decided what they wanted to do with their lives. Linus’ face heated when he thought about what he’d done before in order to survive. After moving to Hollywood to pursue his dream of being a costume designer at the motion p
icture studios, he’d been dismayed at the lack of immediate employment prospects. The small amount of money he’d saved for his trip hadn’t lasted long.

  Going on dates with men had been something one of his flophouse roommates had told him about. He’d explained that you could get your meals paid for and a handful of dollars if you were nice to the older gentlemen who enjoyed having a young, pretty man on their arms at one of the speakeasies. Mickey had introduced him to the owner of the pansy club he was often taken to and soon enough—Linus had had his first date.

  He’d been frightened, but desperate. The fellow who’d taken him out had treated him well and hadn’t put the screws on him. They’d held hands at the speakeasy, shared a meal and danced. Linus had been driven back to the dive where he stayed, and that had been it. The whole evening had been much less stressful than he’d imagined. The owner of the club didn’t demand any payment to connect the boys with interested men because the more dates he made, the more business he got. Mickey had explained that the situation also reduced the likelihood that they could get roughed up or worse—the proprietor of the pansy club didn’t want any trouble, so he only matched up men with whom he had some knowledge.

  But soon, Linus had needed more than the occasional meal paid for—he’d needed his share of the flophouse rent. He’d underestimated how difficult it would be for him to get a job making costumes at the studios. Having to have connections wasn’t something he’d counted on. The only legitimate job he’d managed to get on his own had been for a play. There he’d had to sweep the theater, clean the toilets and give out handbills for the show. Once in a while, he’d helped fix costumes that had needed mending. So far, it was the closest to his dream he’d gotten. When the play had closed without notice, he’d found himself in trouble. That was when he’d begun to accept money to touch other men, then eventually, to take them in his mouth.

 

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