Submission 101 [Club Libertine 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Diane Leyne

  She had known that there was no way that either of them would ever be interested in her in any other way than academically, but it still made her wistful. She was nothing to them but an employee, but they made her feel good about herself in other ways. They listened to what she had to say, and when they spoke to her, they treated her as an equal, but it was clear that they never saw her as a woman, and that made her sad sometimes, but she forced herself to shove down her disappointment. This was a job, and they were just treating her as a fellow professional. It wouldn’t be appropriate for them to flirt with her or kiss her or throw her down over the office couch so that one of them could fuck her from behind while she sucked off the other.

  She sighed. They featured prominently in her nighttime fantasies, especially the ménage scenario. They figured into her daytime fantasies as well as the heroes in her latest novel were based on them. It was the story of a librarian who ended up in a ménage with two hot professors. It might not be in the cards in real life, but in her books, she could have any man, or men, she wanted.

  Maybe it was time to get away from the keyboard for a while and find herself a flesh-and-blood man of her own. They weren’t all like Norton. Hell, why aim small. Maybe she’d find herself a ménage so she could finally experience what it was like to be the object of desire for not one but two men, instead of just writing about it.

  * * * *

  “What the hell are you eating?” Dex stared at Pat, who was seated at the kitchen table and digging into the large bowl of cereal filled with pink and green marshmallows. Dex shuddered. He opened the refrigerator and extracted some fresh fruit.

  “Cereal,” Pat answered between spoonfuls. In some ways, his friend was still a teenager. The way he ate, he should weigh three hundred pounds.

  “I can see that.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “Because you aren’t twelve and that stuff you’re shovelling into your mouth is almost pure sugar.”

  “Yes it is!” Pat grinned and went back to eating.

  Dex sighed and poured himself a cup of coffee before sitting down opposite Pat.

  “About last night…”

  “Yeah.” Pat sat back and looked at his friend. “What the hell happened? We always have fun with Vicki.”

  “She’s beautiful, smart, fun, a great and experienced sub. We always have fun playing with her. There’s no emotional component. She has no interest in a relationship outside the club. We have no interest in a relationship with her outside the club. We’ve played with her off and on for years. We weren’t even planning on having sex with her or anything. It was just some fun to let off steam because we can’t exactly invite Abby to a BSDM club with us.”

  “Yup.”

  “She’s a great sub. She’s so well trained. And she knows exactly what we like.”

  “Yes she does.”

  “Why wasn’t that enough last night? What was the problem?”

  “I’ll tell you what the problem was, Dex. She wasn’t Abby.”

  Dex sighed.

  “Yeah, she wasn’t Abby.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing?” offered Pat, his voice reluctant. “I, she, we, hell, I don’t know what I feel except that it will be damned hard to work so close with her for so long. We need someone like Vicki to keep our minds off seducing Abby, except I just can’t work up any interest in spanking Vicki.”

  “Are you serious?” Dex’s voice was incredulous. “When do you not want to spank a willing sub? But I have to admit I feel the same way. Other subs, or I should say, other women hold no appeal. If only she was a sub. We could just collar her and order her to submit to us.

  “And what about our plan to be so sweet and funny and charming and slowly convince her that dating and then submitting to the two of us would be a good idea.”

  “Yeah, I know what we decided, but I honestly don’t think that’s going to work. There’s something about her, Dex. She’s sweet and funny and smart. After spending time with her, I’m just so afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing and scaring her off. How do I tell her that I’ve been having sex dreams about her for months now and my fondest hope is that she’ll let me spank her and then fuck her from behind while she sucks off my best friend?”

  “Uh, I can see where that might not go over well. But it’s not much different from my fantasy of tying her down on the spanking bench and seeing how many orgasms we can force out of her before her introduce her to the joy of double penetration.”

  “Yeah, I’m kind of resigned to having a permanent case of blue balls because there’s no way a woman like that would be interested in the two of us at the best of times, and certainly not two Doms. The best we can do is be friends with her. I just can’t see any other realistic possibility.”

  * * * *

  Abby looked up from the keyboard. It was a beautiful Saturday in September. Seattle was enjoying sunny weather, but she was trapped at her keyboard trying to finish her latest book before it was time to meet Lindy for lunch. She’d been back in town for almost a month, and this was the first chance they’d had to meet.

  Lindy often worked on Saturdays, and Abby had been so damned busy. Between school, her part-time job, and her writing, she had little spare time.

  Sitting at the computer and rereading her final paragraphs, Abby was able to write those two wonderful little words, The End, and then saved her document. Book nine, Sandy’s Submission, was done. She’d reread it one more time on Sunday and then send it into her publisher. Not able to resist, she checked the site. Mindy’s Two Doms was already number seventeen on the ménage charts even though it didn’t officially release until Monday. She didn’t get to write as much as she would like.

  Between her course work and her research assistant job, she was extremely busy, but she fit it in when she could and this was her ninth book and she was dying to talk about her writing. Up until now, Abby hadn’t told anyone about her hobby. She used the pen name Angelica Adams, and her bio at the back of her books was purposefully vague. She wasn’t sure if anyone would care or be shocked about what she was writing, but she was nervous, too. She wanted to work in academia when she graduated and figured that a writer of erotica might not be taken seriously. Of course, she’d also spent the summer in London where she barely knew anyone, so talking about her new part-time career wasn’t a huge temptation, but now she was back in Seattle and she was dying to talk about it to someone.

  She looked in the mirror as she dried her hair. She had long hair that she usually kept in a ponytail to keep off her face, and bangs that usually needed a trim and got in her eyes. The shade was a sort of medium brown. Her eyes were a blue-green but usually kept hidden behind her glasses. She’d tried contact lenses, but they just seemed like a lot of bother.

  She didn’t have to ponder what to wear. Her wardrobe was pretty limited. As a student, she didn’t have much of a clothing budget. Pants were practical. She paired T-shirts of obscure bands with them. And because she was self-conscious of her D-cup breasts, the T-shirts were generally extra large and baggy. Because of Norton, she’d taken to wearing her pants baggy, too. He was always making comments about showing off her body for other men to ogle, so she took to hiding it and now she couldn’t afford to replace her old wardrobe, so loose-fitting clothing were really her only option right now.

  But today was warm and sunny, and she was going to meet one of her best friends, so she decided to dress up a bit and wear a pair of fitted linen capri pants in a lovely turquoise tone with the same flowered white tank top she’d worn to her interview. It was the nicest thing she owned and one of the few fitted, non-baggy items. She looked at herself critically and considered changing. She loved the top, but it was lower cut than she was used to. She grimaced in the mirror. Almost anything would be lower cut than what she was used to. She normally didn’t show any skin at all, and she’d never bought anything like this before or since. She was too big top and bottom and had always dressed in a way she thought minimized her as
s and boobs even before Norton had taken to calling her fat.

  Hell, she should probably have told Lindy about her writing months ago, and she probably would have if they had been having their monthly lunches, but the acceptance hadn’t come until just after their April lunch and she’d been away for months. She could have e-mailed her, but she wanted to see Lindy’s face when she found out that her straitlaced friend was writing erotica. And it was the only way of knowing whether her friend was shocked or not. If she were, then Abby wouldn’t tell anyone else. If Lindy was accepting, maybe Abby would come out of the literary closet with others.

  And today was going to be the day. Abby realized that she was both excited and terrified. She didn’t think Lindy would be judgmental, but you never could tell. Maybe I should get her tipsy first?

  * * * *

  Lindy was already seated and taking a sip of wine when Abby arrived. It was good to see her old friend. It was Saturday, and since neither was working, alcohol was not just allowed, but the way Abby felt today, it was practically necessary.

  She threw herself into the chair across from Lindy, having psyched herself up, but when she looked up at Lindy, her words died on her lips. Lindy seemed to glow with happiness.

  Without saying a word, Lindy slid her left hand across the table to show off the huge diamond while fingering an interesting-looking choker-style necklace with her right.

  Abby jumped up and came around the table to give Lindy a big hug. Lindy was the nicest person she knew, and no one deserved happiness like she did. Once they’d settled back in their seats, Abby had asked for the details.

  “I didn’t even know you were dating anyone when I left for London.”

  “I wasn’t!”

  Abby listened with rapt fascination as Lindy told her about their first meeting. It seemed that she had begun a whirlwind courtship with a man named Jake Hughes, whom she had met when she had literally fallen into his arms when she’d tripped on some stairs.

  Things had progressed quickly, and they were now engaged. He was a computer programmer by day, and, Lindy confided, he was a part owner of Club Libertine, the notorious BDSM club. The look in her eyes as she made this confession was anxious and worried. Abby realized that her piddling secret was nothing. She just wrote about BDSM. Lindy, it seemed, lived it. And if she was nervous about telling people what she wrote, she couldn’t even imagine the courage Lindy was displaying telling her about Jake.

  “Sounds like the name of a book to me, The Librarian and the Dom. Tell me, Lindy. Do you let him spank you?” Abby kept her tone teasing.

  “Let is not a word you use around Doms. Once you’ve agreed on your limits, they make the rules. And enforce them.” She shifted in her seat. Abby grinned.

  “Sore ass?”

  “Yes, but in the best possible way. We had an extended play session at the club last night. It was intense.”

  “I can’t believe you and your fiancé go to a BDSM club together. What do you…? I mean, does he…damn. I’m not sure what to ask, and I’m really not sure that I want to know the answers. But damn, you look happy.”

  “I am. Who knew a sore butt could be the source of the most amazing sex I’ve ever had?”

  Abby laughed. “It’s good to know that the books are accurate… and speaking of accurate… and speaking of books… I have a confession, too.”

  “What, are you into the lifestyle, too, Abby?”

  “Not exactly…”

  “What the heck does that mean? Either you are or you aren’t.”

  “There’s a third option, Lindy.”

  “Which is?”

  “Have you ever heard of Angelica Adams?”

  “The BDSM author? Yup, I love her books.”

  “Well…I…ah…well, I’ve been doing some writing…” Abby realized that she was blushing. Her cheeks actually felt like they were on fire as comprehension dawned in Lindy’s eyes.

  “Oh my god. You’re Angelica Adams! That’s amazing. Wait until I tell Cindy. She’s the one who got me reading them.”

  “Cindy? The holy terror? She’s back in town? Is she still making trouble? I know she’s your sister, but that girl…”

  “Oh, Abby. She’s changed. She spent ages working in war zones with Doctors Without Borders, and she came home a month ago to make amends to me for being such a bitch. I won’t go into details, but her apology was sincere and I’ve forgiven her. And…” Lindy grinned.

  “And?”

  “And she met Connor and Liam O’Hara, two of the other owners of the club. They are identical yummy blond twins and Doms as well.”

  “Met? Oh, crap. She’s dating two men?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, I misunderstood.”

  “No, she’s not dating them. It’s more serious than that. They’ve collared her as their permanent sub.”

  “Is everyone into BDSM nowadays? How am I the last to know?”

  “Says the woman who writes such hot novels. I’ll have you know that some people aren’t just writing about sex and spankings. Some people are getting both. Damn. I still can’t quite get my head around the fact that you are Angelica Adams. The other subs are going to be so jealous that I know you. Maybe I can set up a meet and greet or even a book reading at the club. What do you say?”

  “Um, yes. I think? Seriously, do you think they would like that?”

  “Are you kidding? We can do it on a Saturday afternoon. There are always classes being held on various BDSM topics for the Doms, but nothing much for the subs. And, there is already a book club. Yes. You have to do it. I’ll check the schedule, but I think the book club meets alternate Saturdays, so we might even be able to set it up for next Saturday.”

  Abby looked at the excited smile on her friend’s face and couldn’t say no.

  “I, uh, I’ll check my calendar, but I think I’m free.”

  “Excellent! Oh my.” Lindy started laughing. “Can you imagine if someone had told our college selves that I’ve been collared by a man whose nickname at work is Master of Pain and you would be writing erotica? Which club do you go to? Obviously I’ve never seen you at Club Libertine. If the club has reciprocal privileges with Club Libertine, then I can get you a temporary membership pretty quickly. Otherwise you’ll have to fill out all sorts of forms.”

  “Actually, I’ve never been to a club. I’ve never actually ever, well, indulged.”

  “You mean you write completely from your imagination. Hot damn, girl. That settles it. You are coming to Club Libertine. I’ll e-mail you the paperwork, and you have to fill it out and send it back ASAP so we can get you in for Saturday. I can pull some strings because of Jake, but we can’t skip the application process. And I can lend you a super cute spandex miniskirt, and I know a great place where you can get a corset…”

  Abby laughed. She was twenty pounds overweight and hated exercise. Because she also loved good food, she dragged herself to the gym three times a week, but there was no way she was going to put on something skimpy and parade around in front of other people who probably all had the bodies of Greek gods and goddesses.

  “No way, Lindy. Not gonna show off my cellulite in front of a bunch of strangers.” She took a sip and then in a burst of honesty blurted out, “But I’d love to see the place so I can make sure my writing is accurate. I am guessing you can’t show me photos.”

  “No. There’s a strict no photos or filming policy when people are playing, although there’s going to be a book launch there Wednesday, which is a first. All the partners and staff Doms are meeting there now to go over the logistics. The press are all handpicked, but they will absolutely want to take photos so the guys have to figure out what limitations they want to impose, what equipment they can leave out in the open, the dress code for the event, and so on.”

  “Dress code? They thinking of making the members of the press wear leather and chains?”

  Lindy laughed. “No, for the members, silly. Even with the press being hand picked, there’s always the poss
ibility of someone being offended. And it has to be made clear to everyone one who comes that the press will be allowed to take a few photos, and even though they’ll be given strict guidelines on when they can take photos and their memory cards reviewed before they leave, there’s always the possibility that something could slip through the cracks, so don’t wear or do anything you wouldn’t want published.”

  “A book launch? At a BDSM club? What’s the book about? BDSM for Dummies?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Lucky guess?” Abby laughed at her own joke and then realized that Lindy wasn’t laughing. Oh, she had a twinkle in her eye and a grin, but she wasn’t laughing. “Oh my god. It is BDSM for Dummies! Seriously?”

  “Well, not exactly. The official title is The Dominant’s Guide to Owning and Training a Sex Slave, but the subtitle is The Couple’s Guide to Expanding Sexual Horizons in a Way That’s Safe, Sane, Consensual, and Mutually Fulfilling.”

  “Okay, that’s quite an official title. Very, uh, provocative.”

  “Yeah, Josh wanted the subtitle to be the actual book title, but you know what the publishing market is like. They insisted on the more flashy title but finally gave in and let him have his title as the subtitle. They didn’t care that it was written by a PhD who is a world-renowned academic on the subject and who is also a very well-regarded college professor.”

  “Wait a minute. He’s from my university? Josh? Not Dr. Joshua McClain.”

  “The very same.” Lindy grinned. “You know him?”

  “I’ve met him. He’s friends with the two professors I’m working on a research project with. He came by the office once when Dex and Pat were out and I was setting up the files for our project. He seemed very nice. I had no idea he was an author. Or a Dom.”