Red Hots

by Hines, Yvette

  However, it would be done on his. He was not put off by her stubbornness or her determination to maintain control of their interaction, but turned on. If one day she trusted him with dominance over her, it would give him immense pleasure knowing it was rare for her.

  “I’m going to hang up. I want you to call me back right way.”

  “I don’t have time—”

  He hung up before hearing what she was attempting to say. It did not matter. As a Dom, he never tolerated excuses. What he said was done, period, or there was a consequence.

  Shifting his seat slightly to the left, he began working again on inputting the order request for the week.

  Ten minutes later, his cell phone rang. On the third ring, he pulled it from his pocket and answered it after the fourth.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, Masaun. This is Kin Langston. I got your message on your card so I’m calling you.” There was no hesitation in her voice, but her words were clipped.

  However, she had called him back, regardless of the pride it may have cost her.

  That made him smile. “Yes, Kindle. I’m glad you did. I believe I have something to offer you.”

  “Such as?” There was a doubtful tone to her soulful voice.

  “I don’t care to discuss it over the phone. How about we meet tomorrow evening—an early dinner?”

  “You know, Masaun.” She exhaled and he easily picked up on the tension in her voice. “I really don’t have time right now for dates—”

  “Kindle, I don’t recall asking you for a date. I’m sure you have discussions over food all the time with men that you aren’t dating.” He was using semantics, playing with her. The fact that he was seriously attracted to Kindle, and in most instances he would classify what he was offering her as a date, it would not be with her. If he wanted to progress with Kindle, he would have to start in an area she was comfortable, otherwise he could see her bolting and heading for the hills. He could tell from the extreme organization of her office that she liked things to have order. Relationships were messy by nature.

  “That’s true. So, you’re suggesting we meet in a public place for food and a discussion that could be beneficial to me?”

  “If you prefer a public place then I have no qualms about that. And let’s say it would be mutually beneficial to us both.” Because if he ever got the opportunity to have Kindle submitting to him and apply a paddle or flogger to her lush ass, the enjoyment he would receive would be like alcohol to his system—all consuming.

  “Okay. I’ll meet you at Croc’s on Nineteenth Street?”

  A smile tugged at the left corner of his mouth. She was agreeing, but she wanted him to know she was calling the shots. He’d allow her to believe it, for now. “Perfect. I’ll see you at five thirty.”

  “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Goodbye, Kindle.”

  “Bye, Masaun.”

  ~YH~

  Kindle wanted to kick herself. Pushing back from her desk, she rose from her chair and moved around in front of it and stopped, not allowing herself any other steps. Pacing was for people who could not control themselves. Instead she stood there squeezing her hands into fists, focusing and breathing.

  She recognized the reason for the disappointment swelling inside her. It had not been her intention to end up with a date, or non-date with Masaun, but to fulfill her promise to Emmalee and call him. Disregarding his command to call what she assumed was a personal number for him, she had taken it a step further and driven to her office to make the call. Treating Masaun Hawkes as she would any other business associate.

  However, he was not and this was not business at all. He had even thrown out a bold challenge when he hung up on her because she had called his office.

  “That damn man. He is insufferable.”

  Then why are you going on a date with him?

  “Not a date!” she argued back at herself, a sure sign she was only a few thoughts and actions away from the Looney Bin.

  She did not know how to categorize her association with Masaun. She had to be honest with herself and recognize that she was very interested in discovering what he was proposing between them.

  Sex. Her body screamed.

  It seemed that since she had pried open the lid to her own sexual Pandora’s Box, she was unable to seal it again. Every available moment her mind, and life, was not consumed by her current case, it was wandering off to the secret area she had relegated thoughts of Masaun Hawkes to.

  During the exhaustive two-week jury selection process, she had not had the energy to fight her fantasies about him at night. The second morning after meeting him, she had refused to give in to her urge to masturbate and all day long she had been edgy and cantankerous.

  Her co-counsel, Simeon Duff, an ex-boyfriend, had mentioned she seemed off her game and tense.

  Every day since, she had ‘taken the edge off’ in the morning before rising from bed. Since she woke fully aroused by the erotic dreams of Masaun, it took her only a few moments before she was quivering between the sheets.

  Even having orgasmed twice that morning, just the sound of his voice had her sex pulsing and her knees feeling unsteady. There was no need for her to slip a hand into her slacks to discover if she was aroused, because the wetness from her sex had completely saturated her pants at his “hello.”

  No man should have such an intensely erotic husky voice—low and controlled.

  Exhaling loud and slow, she opened her hands and eyes. Glancing down at her palms, she could see the evidence of the stress in the bruising in her palms. Since college, she had soaked her hands at night in Epsom Salt before bed to remove the soreness and speed up the healing process if there were any wounds. During exam time in college and her first year practicing law had been the worst times for her.

  It was not that she did not know her job. She ate and breathed the law, but she had to get things right the first time and execute her job to the best of her ability, every time.

  “Kin, the team is gathered in the conference room. Whenever you’re ready.” Chris Ricks was her researcher. He had assisted her on the second case she had tried as one of the Assistant Commonwealth Attorneys and had located a past legal precedent that had been integral in her winning the case that everyone had assumed would easily end in a win for the defense due to all the screw-ups that had happened in the police investigation strategies. One overzealous cop could easily tear a case wide open, but Chris had come through like a good luck charm.

  “I’ll be right there. Let me get my notes.” She lifted her chin up a notch and smiled. This was what she did, found center.

  She still had twelve hours before she needed to deal with Masaun and once she heard him out and turned him down that way of distraction would be over and closed down. For good.

  ~YH~

  The Dollhouse was a beehive of activities on Friday nights. Most nights there were people in the two-story brick warehouse located in a more secluded part of the oceanfront. It wasn’t hidden, but from the outside it appeared to be nothing important, possibly an industrial building of some sort. However, within its walls it was electric—from the music playing overhead, the discussions, the cracking of whips, to the smacking sound of flesh being struck by some object. This was Masaun’s second home.

  Even if at times he felt more like a ghost between the walls than like he was actually present, in his soul anyway. To be a trainer required him to be attuned both physically and mentally. If there was a day where he could not separate his mind from the stress, as it had been when he first became a part of the lifestyle, then he would come to The Dollhouse and train. There was too much of a risk to injure someone by not being observant enough if a Dom was missing cues from his sub.

  His brother, Sweet, was just as good as he and could easily become a Master trainer. However, Sweet had lost his edge, his focus. Masaun did not believe that Sweet lost his commitment to the lifestyle, but even when Sweet was at the dungeon, he wasn’t.


  “You have your hands full tonight.” Master Zach, the owner of The Dollhouse moved up beside him.

  Masaun glanced at the man who had not only rounded out his education on how to be a proper Dom, but also selected and trusted him as a trainer. The slim, silver-haired man was not quite as tall as he was or built as broad but he could wield any and all the tools of the trade better than anyone Masaun knew.

  “I was supposed to have four tonight, but one of the female subs did not show up.”

  “Ah, no dedication. That’s what I love about the training course that new submissives and couples have to go through before they can become full-access members. It weeds out those who can’t commit the time. Some just want a place they can pop in and out of when the mood strikes.”

  “True.” Masaun surveyed the female sub he’d named Bambi, whose light-brown eyes were large with long lashes. The only things big on her tiny, short frame were her nipples. Currently, he had vibrating clamps attached to them and a sign around her neck that read TURN ME ON FOR FIVE SECONDS, PLEASE.

  Bambi’s job was to take drinks from the Dom at the bar and carry them to the tray held by another trainee in the middle of the floor. The only problem she was having in performing her duties was that every time she passed a dominant dungeon member, they flicked the switch and in that five seconds she was trembling and close to an orgasm, which she was not allowed to have. Most times, she ended up spilling at least one soda and had to return to the bar. During the few weeks she had been in training with him, he’d discovered her nipples were ultra-sensitive. Tonight he capitalized on that to help her work on her control.

  The male he’d named Pup was the trainee holding the tray. He had shaggy brown hair and pale skin. Blindfolded, the tall, husky man was on his knees in chaps with his ass pushed out and bare, as he extended his hands with a tray awaiting sodas. Masaun could clearly see that Pup’s ass was already a rosy hue from the dominants who were doing everything from pinching his ass to spanking it with a paddle. After someone would strike his cheek and take a soda from his tray, Pup would respond as instructed “Thank you, Sir.”

  Pup was in search of a Mistress; he wanted to be owned and dedicate his life to the service of a woman.

  His third and final trainee of the night was presently strapped to the St. Andrews, naked except for the body glitter on her skin and the butterfly vibrator held against her clit by straps around her thighs. He honored her with the name Seondeok, after the first reigning Queen of Korea. The sub was a full-figured Korean-American woman who was shy and ashamed of her body. In the weeks he’d been working with her, he noticed that anytime he’d have the trainee select things from his wardrobe chest to wear for the night, Seondeok would garb herself in whatever covered the most and at times added extra layers.

  Before her was a table with feathers of different types and sizes. Anyone was allowed to stroke and caress her body with the feathers. Masaun held the control to the vibrator and he turned it off and on periodically, bringing her to one screaming orgasm after another. He told her on the first day that BDSM wasn’t about the body, but the heart and soul of the person dominating and submitting. Now, he was proving it to her by allowing her to connect with light sensations all over her voluptuous form as she sparkled and took her pleasure before people who would not judge her.

  “The three in this batch will make the person dominating them extremely blessed. They all have servant hearts and a willingness to be led.” He felt pride in his trainees.

  “Excellent, next week we’ll have a match night with some of the available Doms and Dommes and see if we can help them connect with someone.”

  “That works,” Masaun confirmed.

  Zach gave him a sharp nod and strolled off toward the back hall where semi-private rooms were located.

  The rear door to the club opened and Masaun glanced in that direction, seeing his brother enter, alone. Dressed in standard dark apparel like most of the Doms, Sweet made a direct line to the bar. After ordering a soda, his brother glanced around, eyes blank as he waited to be served. Sweet’s stare met his, paused and held for a brief moment. Masaun didn’t approach him, knowing Sweet had to work out his own demons on his own. Giving his brother a sharp nod, it was returned before Sweet turned his attention to the soda now set before him.

  Masaun shifted his focus back to his trainees, going from one to the other, assuring himself that they were all doing well. There was a weight of discontent in his gut, as it was every time he was close to completing his time with new submissive trainees. None of them were his. If he connected with anyone he was training, there was nothing that said he could not take them on as his own. But other than a pseudo-parental admiration for what they accomplished while under his guidance, he felt nothing.

  No tug to his heart or his groin. It had been that way for him too many years to start counting. Briefly, he allowed his gaze to travel around the crowd in the dungeon. His sights alighted on a black woman wrapped with silk shibari ropes and hanging four feet from the floor below a beam structure. The woman lay still, assured in her Dom’s ability to suspend her there, and her features were relaxed in peace.

  The view caused his mind to open the mental door he had closed on images and thoughts of Kindle for the night. His body immediately responded and his heart began to thump hard in his chest and his cock pulsed with each strong beat in his pants. Unlike this woman who was relaxed and uninhibited by the stressors of the world, Kindle was not.

  He could not stop himself from pondering what Kindle would look like displayed like any of his trainees, or simply unrestrained. Would a woman like her ever be able to relinquish control to someone else, even for a moment, a night, a scene? No, his mind declared. Over the years he had seen many women and men find they were unable to submit or even properly lead because they couldn’t let go of the traps around their mind.

  However, his gut disagreed and brought to mind the image of Kindle remaining still for the briefest of moments in her office. Her body responding to his command. But, was that all she would be capable of, this small subconscious reaction?

  “Ohh…nooooo.” The sound of Bambi climaxing and the two plastic cups of soda crashing to the floor drew his mind away from Kindle.

  Locking away thoughts of the sexy lawyer, Masaun flicked the switch in his pocket to turn on Seondeok’s butterfly as he crossed to the bar to take care of Bambi.

  Tomorrow night would be soon enough to discover how far he would be able to push Kindle toward her true nature.

  CHAPTER Five

  Kindle checked the clock again for the tenth time. She had an hour and a half before the time she was due to meet Masaun for dinner and she stood in her room as she had for over an hour—bra and panties only. She pulled out one outfit after another and still she could not decide.

  “This probably means I should just cancel. It’s a sign.” However, she knew she didn’t believe in signs. What she did know was that Masaun Hawkes did something to her. He stirred something deep inside of her that made her both apprehensive and excited. The excitement that bubbled up from within her when she saw him or even heard his voice over the phone was what caused fear to sit in a back corner of her stomach.

  No man should be so all-consuming, and compelling.

  On her bed was a simple embroidered lace overlay sheath dress in navy. It was high collared in the front, but dipped to the center of her back. The three-quarter-length lace sleeve revealed her arms beneath. She knew the dress would hug her body from neck to mid-thigh where it stopped. It was the sexiest thing she owned. She’d picked it up on a splurge while out shopping with her best friend. It was a nun’s habit compared to some of the things Emmalee had picked up to wear when she went out with Randolph, the man her friend referred to as her Master.

  Shaking her head, Kindle didn’t even ponder the titles her friend was always tossing around—Masters, submissives and Doms. A world not for her.

  “When you meet someone, even if you’re going to turn them do
wn, a woman should put her best foot forward.” Deciding on the dress, she put it on. She liked her reflection in her mirror. Even though she still needed to take out the single plait she put in her hair to create waves and her face held no make-up; she appeared confident, sexy and carefree. It was a different look for her, but she enjoyed it. At least for this one night.

  On her way to the bathroom the ringing of her phone stopped her. Turning, she went to her nightstand and picked it up.

  “Hi, Dad,” Kindle said. “How are you?” It was unusual for her father, Reese Langston, to call her on a Saturday evening; generally she called him.

  “Kin, I’m fine. I had not heard from you all week. However, I wasn’t worried because I know you have that big case going on.” Her father had begun calling her Kin when she was in law school and had impressed upon her the importance of the men she associated with seeing her as an equal and not a sexual object.

  After that, she started introducing herself that way. Now she gazed at her reflection in the mirror as a niggling of doubt began to build.

  “Yes, I do. It’s been pretty hectic with the jury selection. Trying to find anyone in this city who doesn’t have children or grandchildren around the age of the defendant or who doesn’t want to see him dead was practically an impossible task.”

  “Sometimes there is no jury of peers for a vicious man.”

  “Very true. We finally were able to gather the best objective minds we could find out of two hundred and seventy-five selectees.”

  Her father let out a low whistle. “I’ve been following it on the news. I know you’ll get him. You’re tough and focused.”

  “Thanks for the confidence, Dad.” She meant that. Her father could be stringent and overbearing at times, but he truly believed in her ability to be the best.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, his voice deep and clear, perfect diction. “I’m just glad you’re not with a male companion now that can distract you.”