by Jane Jamison
Paul pointed at the cameras. “We have rules in the club, with monitors and people who keep watch to make sure nothing gets out of hand. It rarely does. Our members are good, upstanding people who believe that everyone has the right to come to the club then leave knowing that. Unless they want the world outside to know what they’re into, their activities here are private.”
“And they do this BDSM thing here? With masters and subs?”
“Some of them do. Our club is what members make of it. If a man and a woman, or more partners, who are into bondage, want to play out scenes, then they can. If another couple only wants to watch, then that’s their choice. What happens here ranges from primal play to vanilla sex. We don’t tell people how to get enjoyment. Not as long as they follow the rules.”
“And I’m supposedly a sub.” A flash of lust whipped through her. What did that mean anyway? She longed to find out.
“You are.”
“How do you know?”
“Trust me, baby. We know. And you do, too, if only you’ll admit it.”
“I’m not sure I could give myself like that. To do what someone else orders me to do.”
He smiled a knowing, all-too-sexy smile. Her pussy tightened. Was he right? If the way her body responded to his, he was.
“It’s like this. We enjoy taking control of our sub. Whether that happens only during play or every day, all day is what we’ll have to discuss. We prefer that our sub is our sub in here, whenever we want to play, and in the bedroom. Everywhere else, she’s our partner in life and our equal. If you want something different, we can talk about it.”
He moved to the center of the huge room. “Controlling the pleasure our sub receives gives us joy. As I’m sure my brother has probably told you, we only do whatever the woman wants us to. Together, we’ll discover your limits.”
She tried to wrap her mind around what he’d said. If he was right, then that would mean the feeling that she wanted them to command her was okay. Yet it was so difficult to give herself up to them. It wasn’t a matter of trust. She’d trusted them that first night and she knew she could trust them again. Whatever was keeping her from letting go, of giving into them, of submitting to them was buried inside her.
“Do you have dancing?” A dance floor made out of hardwood spread over to a platform that was perfect for a band. Round tables as well as sofas and armchairs rested on the plush carpet framing the dance floor. A few areas were sectioned off by movable screens for more privacy. “And live music?”
“Sometimes. Most of the music is recorded, but this is Texas and we can’t go too long without listening to a good country band.”
Only then did she notice the people in the club. Two women had a man tied to the poles separating the booths on the far wall. One woman flicked one of the clamps on his nipples, then giggled as she leaned over and slid her tongue over the other one. The blonde woman sitting on her knees on the booth cushion drew her tongue over his cock, then cupped his balls. The man yanked his arms, but couldn’t get from the leather straps binding him to the poles.
Georgia swallowed and wondered how it would feel to have Paul and Destin tied to poles. Although she’d enjoy it, she knew she’d like it better if she was the one tied up.
The man opened his eyes and caught her watching them. She averted her gaze as quickly as she could to the other side of the room, then gasped. Two men had a woman lying on top of one of the tables, her legs spread wide as they ran their hands and mouths over her body. Her hands were tied and a ball gag kept her from speaking.
“What do you think, sugar?”
She tried to act like it was no big deal. “Hey, whatever floats their boat.”
“Then let’s talk about you.”
Destin walked over to stand next to Paul. They faced her like they were her judge and jury.
“What about me?”
Paul crossed his arms, his muscles rippling with the slight movement. “You know you came here to find us. The question is, are you going to stay? And if you do, you need to pitch in. Everyone who lives on Pleasure Ranch does. If that means working on the ranch, mucking out barns, then okay. Although, I’d rather see you helping out at the club.”
“It’d be a damn shame to get horse shit all over your beautiful body.” Destin made a disappointed clucking noise. “Although I wouldn’t mind helping you wash it off.”
She’d thought about why she’d come all the way from Atlanta but hadn’t made a final decision about how long to stay in Texas. How could she before she’d seen what she was getting into? Not to mention needing to see how the men would react to her. Now was the moment when she finally had to make that decision.
“I’ll stay. But what would I do in the club? I don’t know how to bartend and I’ve never been a waitress.”
The glint in Paul’s eyes turned her stomach to mush. His mouth was slightly parted, and if she didn’t maintain control, she’d jump on him and drag both brothers to the floor with her. She might make the first move, but she was sure they’d take over once her intent was clear.
“You’ll catch on fast enough. Just take drink orders and carry them to the customers. No need to take their money. Everyone here is a member and runs a monthly tab.”
“Can you handle what happens here, sugar? Are you okay with seeing people naked, some of them getting tied up, some caned, whipped, and fucked in front of you? You’re bound to see things you’ve never seen before. Even Paul and I get a surprise every once in a while. Our members can be very creative.”
“I’m a grown woman and a cop. I can handle it as long as they don’t expect me to join in.”
“If they want that, they’ll ask first. You never have to say yes.” Destin waved at the man tied in the booth. “Our members come from a variety of backgrounds. Businessmen from Dallas and even farther away come here as well as a lot of the locals. One of the things they have in common is their respect for the club and its rules. They come here to relax and to play. To act out their need for control or to give up that control so they can get a break, a relief from the responsibilities in their lives.”
She’d never heard it explained that way before, but she understood how that could work. She understood it all too well. What would it be like to let go? To give up the burden that plagued her?
“So are you in or out?” Paul hooked his thumbs in his jeans.
“I’m in.” Another zing of passion knocked her stomach into a flip. If it had been any other men, she’d have turned and walked out. What was it about Paul and Destin that made her want to do things she’d only dreamed of? They had her aching to attempt anything they wanted her to try.
“Then let’s take up where we left off.” Destin moved to her side, graceful as a cougar about to pounce on his prey. “Do what I told you to do before. Drop the jeans. If you can’t handle that, then you can’t handle working here. And remember what to call us.”
“Seeing is different from doing. Sir.” What was she getting herself into? And yet, she wouldn’t walk away. Both her pride and her curiosity kept her there.
“Do it, Georgia.”
Paul’s commanding tone struck a nerve. His command had her blood rushing between her legs to pump out the wetness.
Both men watched her intently. Even the others had stopped their play to watch. “Does this have to be so public?”
Neither of them answered her. Instead, they waited, their gazes fixed on her. She cleared her throat, the jitters starting to take hold.
“You didn’t mind it when the cabbie watched.” Paul lifted one eyebrow. “We won’t wait much longer.”
Paul was the more demanding of them. Destin held back more, but she knew that if push came to shove, he could be as tough as Paul.
“Turn around. Put your backs to us, sub.”
She paused, then sensing they were about to give up on her, she turned around. Not seeing them made her even more nervous and antsy to hear what they’d tell her to do.
“But I’m not a submis
sive.” At least she wasn’t sure she was. And yet she still added their title. “Sir.”
“Are you a Dom?” asked Destin. His tone was light, as though he found the idea amusing.
Did she want the responsibility of controlling someone else’s pleasure as the men had explained? That didn’t feel right at all. “No.”
“Then you’re a submissive. Now drop your jeans.”
“What’s this have to do with working here?” She was angry, but at what? At the men trying to control her? Or at her hesitance to do as they said? Why couldn’t she follow their orders and do what she’d always wanted to do?
“It’s partly that those who come here like the reassurance that the people helping them are okay with whatever they do. But most of all, it’s because we want you.”
She twisted around. “You want me?”
“Come on, sugar. That can’t be a surprise. Why are you fighting it? You came all the way to see us and we want you. Enjoy it.”
“That’s right, Georgia. We want you as our woman and our sub. You want that, too. Tell me that you don’t.”
“I…can’t.”
“Then, sugar, do yourself a favor. You’re a submissive. Trust us to help you find that out. If you don’t want to know, then just say the word and this is over. But if you do, if you dare to open up a whole new world, then do what we say.”
He’d called her bluff and she had no choice but to find out. They held a power over her, making her do and act as she’d never believed she could. She closed her eyes and gave it more thought. Giving up control, gaining pleasure that way, was what she’d yearned for.
Her mind and her body were in turmoil. She wasn’t ashamed of her body. It wasn’t anything wonderful, but it wasn’t bad, either. Yet without clothes on, wouldn’t she feel vulnerable? As vulnerable as she had the night of the murders? She jolted, physically and mentally shoving the invading horrible thought away. Could she risk it?
“We have a safe word, sugar. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
She knew enough about BDSM to have heard about safe words. “Yes. I want my safe word to be gorilla.”
Destin chuckled, teasing her. “That’s a good one, but we have a safe word that everyone at the club uses. A lot of other clubs use it, too. The word is red. You can remember that, right? Red as in stop?”
“Sure, sir.”
“Georgia, when we give you an order, you must do it immediately. You don’t need to think about it.”
“Take off your shoes then your jeans, sugar.” Destin’s voice was soothing compared to Paul’s.
“I’m not sure. Especially with other people—”
“No!”
She froze at the power in Paul’s tone. Without thinking, she unbuttoned her jeans and toed off her shoes. Her jeans puddled at her feet and she stepped out of them.
“Good girl.”
She rankled at the praise. What was she, a pet dog? And yet, she kept her mouth shut, her body’s exhilaration, the rush of lust, stopping her complaint.
Destin moved behind her and slid his palm over one butt cheek. She jumped a little, then held her body straight again. He slid his fingers beneath the hem of her panties, running along her thigh then over her stomach. His skin was hot, burning her flesh as though his lust for her was boiling inside him. His hard chest pushed against her back as he continued his exploration underneath the white chaste underwear to pause over her smooth mons.
His breath put a wall of warmth around her ear. “Damn, but you feel good.”
She shivered, desire to let him explore more and her conservative upbringing warring inside her. Inhaling, she held her body still as his other hand slipped under her plain T-shirt and found her breast. He worked his fingers under her bra until his hand cupped her soft skin and found her bud. Using his thumb, he massaged her nipple until it was a hard pebble.
Paul moved in front of her. His eyes had darkened, the pupils growing bigger, showing how turned on he was. “Do you like your shirt, baby?”
She frowned, unsure what he meant.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
He smiled. “Yes, sir. You must always address a Dom as sir. If you like, you may call us Master Paul and Master Destin. Now tell me again. Do you like this shirt?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then I’m sorry about this, but we’ll get you something else to wear.”
In the next instant, he’d taken hold of the collar and torn her shirt away. She let out a yelp, then lifted her arms to cover herself.
“No, sugar. Don’t cover up.” Destin tugged her arms to her side. “Keep them there.”
Paul’s smile grew wicked, and yet, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. The loss of her shirt had been worth the feeling of wildness she’d gotten as it came away from her body. She held her breath as he took hold of the front of her bra. Destin stayed behind her, running his calloused hands along her waist, then under her panties again.
“You’re so soft,” whispered Destin.
“Let go.” Paul locked his gaze on her.
At once, she thought she could feel him searching, diving into her, trying to understand her deepest secrets. She lowered her eyes, determined not to let him see.
“Take off your bra, sub.”
She bit back the words to tell him that she wasn’t a submissive. But if that was right, why was she behaving like one? She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. Although embarrassment wafted over her, she held her head high and let her bra drop to the floor.
Paul stepped back. “Your tits are amazing.”
The rush of a blush heated her cheeks as the cool air conditioning blew over her. Goose bumps leapt to her skin and she shivered, then told herself it was because of the air and not because of the way Paul was staring at her. She was determined not to give any other clues that she was intimidated.
“Take off your panties.” Destin skimmed his hands along her shoulders. “You’re doing great.”
A slap to her butt cheek startled her. “What the hell?”
Destin reached around and cupped her breasts, then squeezed them until they hurt. “Don’t talk like that, sub. And when one of us gives you a compliment, you’d better acknowledge it.”
The pain was gone as fast as it had come. And yet, instead of getting angry that he’d spanked her, she wanted him to do it again. “Yes, sir. Um, thank you.”
“You heard what my brother said. Take them off.”
The men had so much control over their emotions. Anyone watching them wouldn’t have known how turned on they were. Not unless they saw the heat in their eyes as she did. She was proud that she could get them so hot.
Hooking her thumbs under the waistband, she shimmied the material over the rise of her butt, then paused, keeping her panties around her hips. She took it slowly, getting into the act of making them ache for her. Was this what they meant when they said the sub was really in control?
Destin and Paul stood as still as statues, their attention fixed on her. A gasp came from the man who was no longer tied to the posts. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he pushed the two women aside and moved toward her.
“Is this a new sub? I’d be glad to give her a try. You know. To help break her in.”
She looked straight ahead, not wanting to give him any reason to think she was interested.
“This is Georgia. She’ll be helping out around here.” Destin’s answer was pleasant enough, but there was a hint of steel in his tone.
“She’s not for anyone except my brother and me,” added Paul.
Had Paul just claimed her? What would that mean for her time at the club? Wetness flooded her pussy. As thin as her panties were, they had to see her crotch getting moist.
“Is that so?” The man was thrown, his confusion etched on his face. “I never thought I’d see you two taking an exclusive sub.”
“Now you have.” Paul moved his body between them, blocking the man’s view of her.
Had he
done it without thinking? Or was he protecting her?
“Keep going, sugar.”
She inched her panties lower, exposing her butt crack. Then, with one final push, her panties fell to the floor. If anyone had told her that she’d be standing naked in the middle of a club with strangers watching her, she’d have laughed her head off. And yet, there she was. Strangely and inexplicably doing whatever Paul and Destin told her to do.
“Give me your panties.”
“What?” She realized what she’d forgotten. “Why, sir?”
Paul held out his hand, then spoke slowly, separating each word. “Give me your panties.”
She swallowed even as her saliva dried up. In a quick move, she stepped out of the panties, then bent over and picked them up.
Paul took them, then held them to his nose. He drew in a breath, then let out a sigh. “Just as sweet smelling as I thought you’d be.”
“Toss them here, bro.” Destin caught them. She heard his quick intake of air. “I don’t know which is better. Smelling her juices or seeing her ample backside.”
Ample? “Hey.”
A swat to one of her “ample” butt cheeks silenced her. “You have a lot to learn, sub.”
She gritted her teeth. “Do I have to stand here naked forever?” She could sense Destin raising his hand again, ready to give her another spank then added, “Sir.” Disappointment hit her as he lowered his hand.
She felt vulnerable, yet with more power than she’d ever felt. Even when she was in total control and apprehending a suspect, she’d never felt as good as she did right then.
Destin skimmed his hand along her thigh. “How’d you get this scar?”
“In the line of duty.” She didn’t want to talk about the time she’d gotten stabbed while trying to bust a drug dealer. The wound hadn’t gone deep, but it had still left an ugly scar along her leg.
“I see.” The look her gave her was filled with respect. “I like it.”