Taking Her Down

by Vonna Harper

  Her friend filled her own glass without taking her attention off the action. “We’re sick.”

  “Not sick. Horny.” And more.

  Joleen sighed and started stroking her throat. “Unfortunately, the condition goes with the territory. Neither of us has the time to pick up a man, let alone do whatever it takes to get and hold a boyfriend.”

  Cursing the denim in the way, Shana ran her fingers over her lower belly. “Give me the URL for the site and the password. I know how I’m going to be spending the night.”

  “Understandable.” Joleen studied what Shana was doing. “But I have to warn you, they undoubtedly monitor traffic. They’ll figure out who you are. Maybe they can learn all kinds of things about you.”

  “Just like they have about you?”

  Joleen laughed. “Is that a serious question?”

  No, she decided, it wasn’t. If anyone knew how to keep their identity secret online, it was Joleen.

  “I don’t give a damn what happens,” she admitted. “My voyeuristic activities aren’t against the law, are they?”

  “Not as far as I know.”

  They could have debated the issue, but she didn’t care and, she suspected, neither did her friend. Her sexual experiences, starting with when she’d lost her virginity the night of her senior prom, hadn’t prepared her for what she was seeing. Granted, she hadn’t been living under a rock and had read most of Fifty Shades of Grey, but this was new.

  Challenging her to go where she’d never gone before.

  “What do you think?” she asked, because if she didn’t say something she didn’t trust herself to keep her jeans zipped. “If you couldn’t hide behind anonymity, would you check things out?”

  Joleen frowned. “It depends on what you mean by ‘checking things out’. People can subscribe to the videos if they pass the application process. There’s also an interactive component.”

  There was? Her throat dried at the thought of getting in contact with the organization, or whatever it was. At the same time, watching Ms. Boobs and Hairy Back wasn’t enough. Putting off responding, she let her fingers slide a little lower while concentrating on the action. Hairy Back had moved to the woman’s left breast. After licking his fingers, he lightly rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger, keeping his attention riveted on her face. The man continued his assault on her sex.

  Shana understood control. She’d spent the past five years building her company one private yard or small business at a time. She succeeded, not just because she knew a great deal about what thrived in humid climates, but because she had a business head. She selected and kept employees with strong work ethics. Equally important, she listened to prospective clients and knew what questions to ask to draw out their preferences. No part of the business escaped her attention. No detail was too small. She answered to a multitude of masters, but at the end of the day, she was her own harshest critic.

  Master.

  Turning her body over to someone else, a male someone.

  Tapping into her sexuality in ways she’d barely dared imagine.

  “What are you thinking?” Joleen asked. “Any chance you’re trying to imagine what it would feel like to be in the woman’s position?”

  Pulled back into the here and now, Shana blinked and again focused on the action. Hairy Back leaned down and closed his lips around his captive’s right breast, while continuing to grip the other one. His hand remained against her sex. The woman shuddered and her head fell back. A moment later, she straightened, then backed away as far as she could, followed by sagging in her bonds.

  “Oh God, oh God,” she moaned. “Please, please…”

  “Think he’s biting her?” Shana asked.

  “Is she acting like she’s being hurt?”

  Hardly. In fact, if sounds and action were any indication, Ms. Boobs was having the ride of her life. She rocked her hips in a blatant invitation to be taken deeper. She repeatedly closed and opened her legs while bobbing her head in rhythm with the finger fucking. She said “Please” about a million times. Every time she did, Hairy Back redoubled his attack.

  “Holy shit,” Joleen hissed. “This is even better the second time.”

  Eyes glued to the action, Shana wondered if she had what it took to get through the video once, let alone repeatedly. And Joleen had said there were a number of videos.

  Ms. Boobs let out a scream that hurt Shana’s ears. The captive’s body shook and shivered. A thin line of drool dribbled from the sides of her mouth. Feeling Ms. Boobs’ climax throughout her own body, Shana pushed her middle finger as hard as she could against her slit. Double damn my clothes!

  “So—whew, so do you think she got off?” Joleen asked.

  Shana snorted. “Ah, duh. Yeah, I’d say she did.”

  “That’s the conclusion I came to. Damn, I need to get laid.”

  Joleen’s cheeks were flushed and she seemed to be having trouble keeping her eyes open. Shana was torn between watching the rest of the action here and being alone.

  Alone with her sex toys. Facing a part of her she only rarely acknowledged.

  When Joleen, again, stopped the action, it took considerable effort on Shana’s part not to demand she hit Play. The slightly blurred images on the monitor had a disembodied quality, as if the couple—was that what she should call them?—might never finish what they’d started.

  It sure as hell wouldn’t be like that if she were part of the action.

  If she accepted the challenge.

  “More wine?” Joleen asked. “We could order pizza and—I was going to say we could have our own orgy but that’s a kink I can’t imagine being involved in with you.”

  “I feel the same way.” Joleen was the sister she hadn’t had, not someone she wanted to have a homosexual experience with. She groaned. “Unfortunately, I have to get up at five.”

  “Hmm.” Joleen pointedly stared at Shana’s still-on-her-crotch hand. “You sure you’re thinking about work?”

  Shana gave her slit another stroke then reluctantly stood. “Maybe not.”

  Joleen grabbed a sticky note and started writing on it. “No maybe to it, girlfriend. It’ll be interesting to see if either of us gets any sleep tonight. I’m giving you the URL and password for MSDB. If you decide to do more than watch, let me know. Safety and all that.”

  Snagged by Joleen’s warning tone, Shana tucked the small yellow square into her pocket. “I will. The same goes for you.”

  Chuckling, Joleen lightly punched her arm. “Why do you think I let you in on this, whatever it is?”

  “You’re serious? You’re going to give MSDB a try?”

  “I don’t know. What about you?”

  As Shana slid her hands into her back pockets, her gaze returned to the interrupted action. There was no mistaking Ms. Boobs’ mood. The woman with her arms forced over her head was having the time of her life. Maybe experiencing the most intense orgasm she’d ever had.

  “Let me watch some more action,” Shana belatedly answered. “Then I’ll let you know.”

  “You really think you could handle giving up control?”

  “Being the boss isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.”

  “True, but that isn’t what we’re talking about. This is my body.” She gripped her arms. “Even with the obvious benefits”—she jerked her head at the monitor—“I can’t imagine becoming a man’s slave.”

  Slave. Sex slave? More object than woman? Forced to be primitive.

  Challenged.

  She wrapped strong fingers around her wrist.

  Caught.

  Changed.

  Chapter Two

  “Done and done.”

  Ward glanced up from the brief he’d been trying to concentrate on. Jim, his partner in their legal firm, stood in the doorway.

  “The judge signed off on the verdict?” he asked. Glad for the interruption, he stood, stretched and walked over to the window with its less-than-spectacular view of the parking lot.
/>   Jim joined him. “The last ‘T’ has been crossed. You and I are going to celebrate.”

  Celebrating usually meant walking over to Guilty, the upscale bar a few blocks from where most of the city’s legal offices were clustered. Most times Ward limited himself to going there only on Friday nights, but ever since taking on the case against a construction company that had broken their contract to handle a major paving project, he’d been putting in fifty-hour weeks.

  “I’m serious,” Jim pressed. “I’m of a mind to tie one on and I wasn’t the lead on the damn complicated case. Drink yourself stupid and call a cab.”

  He was tempted, but not just because a celebration was in order. Truth was, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this burned out. In fact, he was questioning his career, asking whether there was more to life than going to bat for the firm’s clients. Whiskey would undoubtedly blunt the edges of those questions. Maybe by Monday he’d, again, give a damn.

  “I might,” he muttered. It had been spring when the fraud allegations had hit his desk. Now, if the falling leaves were any indication, it was fall. A whole summer lost.

  A life on hold.

  Jim’s hand landed on his shoulder, prompting him to turn toward the man who was as much friend as partner. At six foot three inches, Ward was taller than most men, including Jim, who insisted he was six foot when he was at least two inches shorter than that.

  “I’m worried about you,” Jim said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. There was a spark missing even before this case blew up. I thought diving into it might do the trick but, in some respects, you phoned in your work. That isn’t like you.”

  If anyone else had said that he might have punched him, but he and Jim had few secrets. Like it or not, his fellow lawyer was right.

  He shrugged. “Midlife crises.”

  “At thirty-six, I don’t think so. Damn it, she wasn’t worth it.”

  “I’m over her,” he said of the female detective he’d had a vanilla relationship with for over a year. “No torches being carried.”

  “And you’re the wiser for the experience. At least, I hope you are.”

  “I am. What I need is a vacation. Maybe get in some fishing before winter.”

  Jim rolled his eyes. “There’s fishing and then there’s fishing. Why don’t you hook into something worth the effort? How long has it been since you offered your services at MSDB?”

  Two years.

  For reasons no one knew about.

  Reasons that, even today, sent equal waves of tension and anticipation through him.

  “Maybe I will,” he said around a dark need stronger than anything he’d ever felt for his career.

  “Don’t ‘maybe’ me. You want my opinion and, even if you don’t, some time on the island spent doing what you excel at is exactly what you need and want.”

  His friend was the one person in his social circle who knew what he’d been doing before Melissa had entered his life. When things had started getting serious between them, he’d known he needed to sever his relationship with MSDB. Being loyal to Melissa had turned him into someone he barely knew and had little control over.

  On the rare occasions when he didn’t want to own up to responsibility for his dark side, he gave a shot at blaming Jim. After all, Jim had gotten him in the front door—not that there were many doors on the island—after a liquor-fueled weekend that had included overdosing on porn flicks. Thinking back on those forty-eight hours, Ward knew Jim had been testing him. Once Jim had realized he had a more than casual interest in Domination and Dominating, Jim had come clean about his own involvement with the lifestyle.

  Jim did more than fantasize about controlling a submissive woman like Ward had been doing. Jim was part of the BDSM scene and, as such, was willing and able to start Ward down the same road.

  “I’ve been thinking about going back in,” Ward admitted. “Of course, I haven’t had time for anything except the case from Hell for months.”

  “But now?”

  But now he did, if he could handle, let alone control, that side of him. “Don’t push me.”

  “Me, push? Never. Okay, yes, when I know I’m right.”

  Did Jim? Would he say the same thing if he knew Ward compared his fascination with Domination to a drug addiction?

  “What is it?” he shot back. “You get a bonus for getting me to sign up for another round?”

  “I wish. They’ve been asking about you, saying you’re a natural.”

  “Have they?” Despite his need to concentrate on the conversation and his reaction to it, his mind took its own journey to the private island with a half-dozen cabins nestled in jungle-like growth and a larger building that, from the outside, appeared to be a restaurant. The only access to the island was by boat and there was only a single dock with a well-paid guard who made sure anyone who didn’t belong didn’t step ashore.

  Or leave, if that wasn’t part of the plan.

  “Yes, they have,” Jim said. “You know you want to tie up whatever client catches your attention and take a whip to her. A few hours of that, highlighted by filling her holes, and you’ll be back to the old you. Plus, you won’t have to clean the damn fish.”

  He chuckled. The past year had been the most intense of his life, emotionally and intellectually exhausting. Between admitting he wasn’t built for ordinary man-woman relationships and pulling together the complex case, he’d been lucky to remember to brush his teeth. Returning to a single status had taken place several months ago, but he hadn’t had time to process what that truly meant. Now, as of this morning’s verdict, a major professional weight was off his shoulders.

  The beast inside might awaken.

  Hell, it already had.

  And was calling to him.

  “Look at it this way,” Jim pressed. “A little Dom action’s a hell of a lot more satisfying than going to a shrink. Admit it, you need to get laid.”

  There was no denying that.

  “That isn’t all. Imagine a woman’s mouth around your pecker and your cuffs on her wrists. What more do you want in life?”

  Maybe nothing.

  Maybe this time being called ‘Master’ would be enough.

  “What’s the hesitation?” Jim demanded.

  Turning his back to the window, Ward faced the other man. “Answer me something, all right? No brushing off what I’m going to say.”

  Jim’s features sobered. “All right. What is it?”

  He clenched his fingers and filled his lungs. “Do you ever get the feeling there’s something about the island?” He worked up a casual shrug, but the gesture did nothing to release his tension. “Maybe it’s knowing there wouldn’t be anything left of it if a hurricane hit.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Maybe that’s why I don’t get the best vibes about the place.”

  Jim held his gaze for a moment before staring at the ground. “Funny you should mention that. I sometimes feel trapped there. No wonder I do. We’re at the mercy of whoever is running the boats. If something happened, we couldn’t get off.”

  True, but that wasn’t the only reason being on the mainland was easier on his nervous system. The island wasn’t tiny, but he could probably walk around it in a day. Was it possible to feel claustrophobic when surrounded by miles and miles of ocean?

  “That’s it?” he asked. “You worry about an escape route or lack of one?”

  Jim nodded. “Do you blame me?”

  “Hell, no. I did some research on the island. Apparently, Native Americans never lived there? Considering there’s a natural bowl perfect for capturing rain water, plus all the birds and reptiles, don’t you think some tribe would have claimed it? Their enemies couldn’t sneak up on them.”

  “Are you saying the Natives knew—what are you saying, that spirits or something scared them off?”

  ‘Spirits’. He wouldn’t go that far. What he did know was he’d avoided the island because he didn’t feel in charge there.
r />   As if something was trying to take control of his mind and let the beast out.

  Chapter Three

  Shana wiped sweaty hands on her jeans and stared at the rapidly approaching island. The dock didn’t appear large enough to handle the pleasure boat she was on. Ever since learning that her application had been approved, she’d repeatedly told herself this was what she wanted. She’d expected nerves. She just hadn’t realized they’d be this intense.

  Taking her attention off the tropical vegetation growing within a few feet of the shore, she glanced at the other two women who’d be sharing this adventure with her. They’d said little of a personal nature during the hour-long trip. What she did know was that both women were professionals eager for what one of them had called ‘a hell of an adventure and enough sex to last a year’.

  Iva, if that was her real name, had been the more vocal of the two, but now she was as quiet as Genice. Both were what Shana considered high-maintenance women. She hadn’t been surprised when they’d talked more to each other than they had to her. That was fine, since long ago she’d realized she had little in common with women who knew, let alone cared, what clothes were in fashion.

  What the hell am I doing here? Not only did the growth appear impenetrable, but she hadn’t fully grasped the guidelines she’d been sent after she’d arranged for a bank transfer to pay for her adventure. She understood why she’d had to submit a medical report showing she was in good physical and mental health, as well as free of sexual diseases. She hoped the statement about the man she’d been paired with was true. According to the guidelines, she could pull the plug on the operation whenever she wanted by calling out the word ‘red’. It would be picked up by a listening device. Otherwise, the exercises—that’s what they called them—would increase in intensity until maximum stress and pleasure was achieved.

  ‘Maximum stress and pleasure’? What kind of word salad nonsense is that?

  “Crap.” Genice settled herself next to Shana and gripped the railing. “I didn’t think I’d be this nervous.”