“Why don’t we all get more comfortable? Gentlemen, take off your jackets and ties. Ladies, feel free to kick off your shoes. Decadent dessert like this deserves our full attention and comfort.”
“Thank God.” Diana sighed with bliss. “My feet are killing me.”
Jackson shrugged out of his coat as the other two men did the same, but he was slower. It just felt…strange. Too casual. Too…vulnerable. He didn’t take off his coat and tie until he was alone, typically in his office, preparing for a long stretch of work. Even then, he often left his tie on, unless he was going to lie down for a while.
Donovan had no such reaction, even opening up a few buttons of his dress shirt to reveal the silver necklace he wore around his neck. The other man, introduced as Matt, wore a black leather belt around his throat. Jackson stared at it, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that this stranger had been wearing what looked like a dog collar beneath his suit. It hadn’t been obvious at all.
Then it dawned on him. I’m the only man here not collared.
Diana watched Jackson’s face as he looked around the table so she could see the exact moment the realization came to him. He stared at the leather collar on Matt’s throat for quite some time, while everyone else dipped into their desserts. Though the light, meaningless chatter now had a deeper undertone. The other two subs knew what was coming soon. Her sub had no idea. Yet.
She kept her voice low. “You must like his collar a lot to keep staring at it like that.”
Jackson twitched and jerked his gaze down to the dessert in front of him. “I’ve just never seen anything like it. That’s all.”
“So you’re not imagining what it’d be like to wear something like that? You’d be surprised how much fun stuff you could hide beneath a suit. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if Lilly keeps her sub in chastity while he’s gone from her side.”
Jackson opened his mouth to ask what that meant but then shut it, evidently figuring out enough that he cleared his throat. “If that’s true, then I’m going to absolutely die the next time she calls him lover boy.”
“Why?”
“Because how could he be such a great lover if she keeps him chained up like that? It’s emasculating. Embarrassing.”
“But maybe he likes it that way. Doesn’t mean he’s any less a man or any less fantastic a lover. Sure, you have to get through the initial excitement when he’s released from the cage, but you’ll never see a man more eager to do anything his lady wants than a man who’s had his dick locked up a few days, let alone weeks. Besides, it’s the ultimate control of his orgasm. You already saw how hard it could be to come until I gave the word. A chastity cage simply enforces that control physically as well as mentally.”
“No kidding.” He looked at his best friend for quite a while, as if trying to tell if what she’d hinted was true. When it finally dawned on him that maybe she intended to do the same to him, his gaze whipped back to her face but he didn’t say anything. He just watched her like he would a hungry, circling shark.
She smiled, letting her eyes go heavy and hot. “I’ve got such lovely plans for you, Angel. I’m not going to be nice and polite. I’m going to make you want things that will terrify you. Humiliate you. Arouse you. I’m capable of anything. Anything at all. I won’t let you hide any secret from me. In fact, I’ll unbury things you had no idea you feared or could possibly endure. Let alone want. But first, I’ve prepared a show just for you.”
Holding his gaze, she stood and slowly pulled the silver belt free from around her waist. Immediately, Matt dropped his fork, rose from the opposite side of the table and hurried around to drop at her feet. Head bowed, he raised his hands up to her so she could loop the belt around his wrists. Evidently the Dallas designer had intended just such possibilities, specializing in “power” dresses for women. She had to admit that such accessories could certainly be extremely useful, especially for impromptu scenes.
Jackson’s nostrils flared and he sat up very straight, but he didn’t seem offended that she was giving the other man attention. She turned her head to Arlene. “Prepare the sacrifice.”
She stood and snapped her fingers, and Matt glided to his feet silently to follow her through the door to the next room.
Jackson licked his lips. “Sacrifice?”
Diana smiled wider but didn’t elaborate. “Finish your pie, Angel. The show begins promptly in five minutes.”
She took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled, focusing her mind on the coming scene. The Priestess would be calm and deliberate, wholly focused on the steps of ritual. With every word and gesture, no matter how small, she would create magic. She would move their hearts and still their minds and find the place deep within where nothing but the naked, ugly truth remained in all its glory.
Even…especially…her own.
He couldn’t eat a single bite of that pie, no matter how rapidly Donovan devoured his while staring so hungrily at his fiancée. What was Diana going to do? Why was this especially for him? Lilly had told her about his college days, so it’d probably be some kind of display. A sexual display.
Diana. With that other sub? Somehow he couldn’t picture it.
He could picture Donovan crawling down the grand dining table to attack Lilly. That he’d watch, definitely. He’d probably end up with his pants open jacking off while they kissed. That’d be enough to send him over the edge. Even better if Diana was watching him. Or maybe she was whipping him again while he did it. Yeah, that made his dick rock hard in his pants. But forcing his mind back to the upcoming scene with Matt…deflated things pretty quickly.
I don’t want to see her with another man, even if it’s just a performance.
The thought rocked him to his core. So what? They’d only had one date. Why would he care if she was involved with someone else? They’d never discussed whether they were exclusive partners or not. For all he knew, she had several “sacrifices” on the side.
He forced himself to pick up his glass and drink some water. Action helped calm the swirling chaotic thoughts. He knew she wasn’t playing with a bunch of guys on the side. Lilly had mentioned that Diana hadn’t played in a while because she was too busy with her shop. So he could stop being a jealous prick and concentrate on whatever she had planned.
But maybe she wanted the jealous prick. Maybe all of this show was designed to get him to step in and take the other sub’s place.
He tried to play both scenarios through his mind. Usually he could visualize both arguments. He could guess what the judge would do, what opposing council would say, how they’d argue, and come up with a projected win. All attorneys could do it to an extent—one had to be able to argue either side, depending on who the client was—but he was normally extremely good at it. It’s why he was so good at his job. But this…
He didn’t know this kind of argument. He didn’t have any case law or experience to build on.
He turned his attention back to Donovan, hoping to draw him aside and ask his advice, but the man’s entire being was locked on his fiancée, who was licking her spoon like she’d found the nectar of the gods on her dessert plate.
“It’s time.” Lilly set her spoon aside. Donovan moved so fast that Jackson didn’t even see him get up out of his chair. He drew Lilly up against him on the pretense of helping her from her chair. She laughed and patted his cheek, but firmly took his arm and led him toward the door.
“Wait,” Jackson whispered desperately. “What does she expect from me?”
Lilly didn’t pause. “Truth. That’s it. That’s all any Mistress wants in the end from a submissive. The raw beauty of their truth. Their heart and soul exposed.”
“That’s all,” Jackson muttered grimly. Geez, he might as well piss off Judge Hawkins and end up in contempt of court every day for the rest of his career. I have no idea what “truth” she’s looking for. She knows everything alre
ady.
He followed the other couple into the next room with a great deal of trepidation, prepared to see Matt stripped naked, sweating, crying, chained, humiliated, terrified, God only knew what. Instead, the young man stood quietly in the center of the luxurious living room, his hands still bound by Diana’s belt, but now he wore a plain brown monk’s robe. It looked authentically coarse and penitent.
In comparison, the robes that the Mistresses wore looked soft, thick and expensive. In fact, Diana’s bloodred robe looked like it was made out of lush velvet. The other woman wore a white, shimmery robe that looked like a silk kimono. All three of them were barefoot and the lighting was low, with candles crowded on every flat surface. It was actually very romantic…except for the weird religious vibe. Though she was the Priestess, so that shouldn’t have surprised him.
What did freak him the hell out was the low chanting. Diana sounded like a medieval Benedictine monk.
She didn’t speak Latin, not exactly, though he couldn’t make out all the syllables. It was a fantastical language, a mishmash of several different sounds that were almost familiar, yet alien at the same time. It made him break out in a cold sweat and his stomach tightened uneasily. He thought he knew the Priestess, but this wasn’t the woman who’d whipped him for using speed. Nor the woman who’d teased him with some sultry phone sex and then, as promised, called to wake him up exactly on time.
This was a stranger. And he wasn’t sure that he liked this stranger. At all.
Chapter Fifteen
When Diana opened her eyes and focused on him, Jackson froze. That hard glare turned his knees to jelly, even though her words were pleasant. “We may be few in number, but the power in this room is great.”
Maybe that’s why he had goose bumps on his arms and his scalp prickled. The air weighed heavy like a summer thunderstorm was ready to explode into lights and rumbling sound. That intensity rose the longer she stared at him.
“We gather tonight to witness a sacrifice.”
At her words, the other man went down to his knees and bowed his head over his clasped hands.
Diana dropped her gaze to him and the look on her face made the floor fall out from beneath Jackson’s feet. The man was on his knees and dressed like a slave, but she was…grateful. Respectful, even, of what Matt was giving her. Because it was a gift, his hands bound willingly, his freedom given freely. The man outweighed her by at least eighty pounds, and though he’d never win weightlifting challenges, he had the musculature of a fully developed male in his prime. If he wanted to knock her out, it wouldn’t take much effort. Yet he knelt quietly, waiting for her command.
With sudden clarity, Jackson finally understood what submission really was. It wasn’t a shameful, embarrassing thing, something he’d snicker about like when he’d thought about his friend being locked up in chastity. Or how he’d feel if Donovan had come into the bathroom that night last weekend and seen what Diana was doing to him. There was power in giving his control away. She fully understood and appreciated the man kneeling at her feet. She looked at him with respect and admiration, not degradation.
And I want that look on her face for me. Not for him. Not for anyone else.
At what cost, though? He had no idea what this “sacrifice” would entail.
If they were alone in a bedroom together, he wouldn’t really care. He’d give her pretty much anything she demanded from him. But with witnesses like this…
Especially his best friend and business partner. People he’d see regularly. Could he ever sit down to dinner with Lilly and Donovan again if Diana chose to humiliate him?
Before tonight, he would have staunchly denied she’d ever consider humiliating him in front of others, but now… He couldn’t say. She’d warned him she’d make him want things he’d never even considered before.
I’m capable of anything. Anything at all.
She knew he liked to watch. Despite his friend’s adamantly uptight presence, maybe she was going to fuck Matt. Right there in front of him.
He closed his eyes, trying to understand why that didn’t turn him on. It should have, right? He’d driven himself to the edge countless times watching other people make love in college. Mostly his roommate, but there had been plenty of opportunities to sneak a peek at lovers in the hallways, tipsy after a party, too desperate to make it to their room.
But he didn’t want to watch her with another man. No. The very thought made him ball his hands into fists at his sides and grind his teeth with fury.
So if he stepped in… If he took Matt’s place…
Would she fuck him in front of everyone?
Would he be willing to strip naked in front of his business partner? Let another man see him bow his head and take her orders, endure her playful torture, and then see him fall apart when he climaxed inside her? Because when he climaxed, all his walls came down. All his defenses and armor. Could he expose himself like that, just because that’s what she wanted?
I don’t know if I can do it. Even for her.
“Prepare yourself for sacrifice, slave.”
Keeping his head down, Matt rose enough to stretch out across the ottoman on his stomach. Arlene bowed formally to the Priestess and unsheathed the sword she wore at her waist. Jackson wasn’t familiar enough with weaponry to know how authentic the blade might be, but it certainly looked expensive. And sharp. It wasn’t long and clumsy, so it was easy for the petite woman to swing with one hand.
Obligingly, Matt bent his head even more, making sure she had plenty of access to slide the blade beneath the back of his robe. The sound of tearing cloth made slivers of ice stab down the length of Jackson’s spine. A performance, only a performance…
But it was still creepy. He’d never even thought about having someone cut his clothes off. While other people watched.
Arlene cut the back of the robe all the way down to the top of the man’s buttocks, pausing with a wink at Donovan, a taunting look that said without his limit, she’d go all the way without hesitation. Then she used the blade to lay the pieces of coarse material aside, baring Matt’s back.
Exposed. Vulnerable. The powerful man lay still, but he couldn’t hide the slight quiver of muscles across his back. He was nervous too. Maybe even a little afraid. Yet he didn’t make a sound.
Jackson couldn’t look away. It finally dawned on him that Matt probably didn’t know what was going to happen either. Not exactly. Yet he was still willing to give himself over to the two Mistresses. He trusted them that much.
There was no strategy, here. Not for Matt. Not for Jackson, either. Not when a man was dealing with a Mistress. There was no way to win, no argument he could prepare that would sway her will to his. Because there was only one will that mattered.
Hers.
He could walk away. Or he could do exactly as she ordered. No other choice existed.
Diana stepped closer to Matt. Leaning down, she trailed her fingers over his back. Stroking him. Him. Not me.
That seemed so wrong. So incredibly wrong. When he wanted her so much. “Wait.”
She shot a heavy, intent glare at him that made his knees quiver. “You dare to challenge the Priestess?”
His hands trembled. He really had no idea what he was getting himself into, but he couldn’t stand here and watch her touch another man. Not unless she ordered it of him. For the first time, he realized that was possible. She might someday order him to watch her play with another submissive, and he could either do it, or leave, and never see her again.
He refused to even consider that option. “Use me instead, Priestess. I offer myself for sacrifice.”
No one gasped with surprise or snickered with derision. Diana’s face didn’t change, the same calm, distant mask of the Priestess. “Are you sure, Jackson? You’ve never witnessed my rituals before.”
So many thoughts and words rattled around in his head that
he couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence. He wanted that look on her face for him. Nothing else really mattered right now. Even if Donovan teased him about it later. He couldn’t bear for her to touch another man if he could take his place and give her what she wanted. He simply needed the right argument…
No. He swallowed hard and stepped closer to the ottoman. No arguments. No words and movements and jury here. Nothing he said would mean anything to her, or to these people. He needed to act.
His legs were shaking so badly that he almost fell, but somehow he managed to end up on his knees rather than flat on his face. Though for that blinding, gorgeous smile she gave him, he would have gone flat on his belly, witnesses be damned.
Bowing his head, he simply said, “Priestess, I’m yours. Do with me what you will.”
She’d seen plenty of submissives on their knees before, swearing undying devotion and eagerly awaiting whatever punishments and pleasures she’d bestowed. But none affected her like this Angel. Raw and untrained he might be, but he finally began to understand. Both what she wanted…and what he needed to give. Maybe she wasn’t the One True Mistress for him, but she’d damned well be his first, and his best. He’d have to search every club in Chicago to find a Domme as potent and powerful as she was.
Arlene helped Matt up so Diana could unwind the belt from his hands. He backed away discreetly. Jackson lifted his hands but kept his eyes down, allowing her to bind his wrists instead. “Mistress Silk, would you do me the honor of removing our sacrifice’s shirt?”
As they’d agreed, no nudity would be on the agenda tonight to protect Mistress L’s sub’s delicate sensibilities. But Diana wanted to reward Jackson for taking this step with her, and test him at the same time. They’d never discussed his comfort level with other people touching him, even at her command. Especially another Dominant. Certainly one wielding a sword.
The Billionaire's Ink Mistress: Billionaires in Bondage, Book 2 Page 10