He checked traffic as he pulled out onto the side street behind his building. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted an older, dark-green Volvo pull out of its parking space and follow him. If he hadn’t had a heads-up from Chan, he never would have noticed the nondescript car in the light evening traffic. Morgan headed downtown toward Le Club Eastside and kept an eye on the rearview mirror. The green car stayed behind him about two cars back.
“Looks like we have a tail. It’s the dark-green Volvo Chan mentioned to me on Sunday night. Don’t turn around. I think I’ll let him follow us and see if we can’t find out who it is.”
“Good idea.” Morgan watched her turn her head slightly and look in the side-view mirror. “Oh! I see him, but I can’t make out the driver. The headlights are obscuring my view.”
“Let’s just see what happens when we get to the club. Call the security desk and alert them. Find out who’s on the desk tonight.”
Morgan listened as she let the doorman at the club know that they might have a problem following them. “Liam, Morgan doesn’t want you to detain the person in the car. Let him follow us into the parking lot before you close the gate. We want to see who it is and what he does. Just be on the lookout. Thanks.” She turned to Morgan and said, “They’ll be ready for trouble.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Le Club Eastside—Manhattan, Lower East Side of Manhattan, New York, Wednesday Evening, November 27, 2013
When they arrived on the Lower East Side and pulled through the high black iron gates into the heavily secured parking lot, the green Volvo was still behind them. Morgan parked the car near the back door of the club, and they went inside as though they did not know they had a tail. As soon as they were inside, they joined Liam behind the desk and watched the security monitors with him. Liam had closed the gates behind their guest, and whether he knew it or not, he was not going anywhere.
They watched as Harmon Burke cautiously exited his vehicle and looked around. The rear entrance to Le Club and the parking lot gave no clue as to what the warehouse building contained. The only signs said “No Trespassing” and “Danger/Enter at Your Own Risk.” Entry was usually gained by palm print at the gate and then again at the door, but Liam had left the door unlocked.
“Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly. I had a feeling it was going to be this dirtbag. He’s a slow learner. Harper, put this mask on,” Morgan said as he handed her a full black face mask and donned his own. “Liam, engage the security cameras. I want full coverage.”
“He obviously hasn’t read his confidentiality agreement carefully. I added an addendum stating that he was never to contact, harass, surveil, write about, photograph, or in any way inconvenience any of the management, crew, or passengers of the Golden Dolphin. He’s obviously breached the agreement—not that we want to take this to court.”
They watched the monitors as Harmon Burke approached the door and cautiously pushed it open. He walked through the entrance into the reception area, and they could hear the click as Liam electronically locked the door behind him.
Morgan deepened his voice and said, “Welcome, Mr. Burke. It appears you have once again failed to abide by trespassing laws. You seem to make quite a habit of that. Tell me, will we find my very valuable crocodile briefcase in your car when we call the police to search it, or is it in your apartment, which they will also search?”
Harmon stuttered. Morgan could see he was just realizing the enormous scope of his mistake. He was starting to shake. He looked around the reception area and took in the security cameras and monitors and the heavy locked metal door behind him. He also took in the height and breadth of Liam. While Morgan’s physique was muscular and sleek—and truly impressive—Liam was enormous. Harmon was beginning to look even more nervous.
Harper continued. “Mr. Burke, you and your publisher are in breach of your confidentiality agreements. I know you were advised of the serious consequences of such a breach.”
“I, uhh…”
“You what, Mr. Burke? You didn’t break into my house and steal my briefcase? You didn’t publish an erroneous article about my new drug, Maxprotem, based on stolen material from said briefcase? I find all of that very hard to believe, Mr. Burke.” He looked over at Harper. “Do you think we should invite Mr. Burke in for a tour of our facilities? Let’s offer him the opportunity to sign another confidentiality agreement and the rules and regulations of Le Club and show him around.” Morgan was grinning from ear to ear behind his mask. He had wanted nothing more than to get his hands on this bastard since Burke had compromised his scene with Harper on the Dolphin. He had been furious at the intrusion into their most intimate moments and the possible damage that had been done to Harper at that vulnerable time.
Liam stepped forward and handed Harmon a clipboard with some paperwork and a pen. “Read it carefully. You agree to subject yourself freely and without reservation to the rules and regulations of the club, including but not limited to disciplinary measures.” Liam’s face creased in an evil grin. “You acknowledge that you have freely signed the confidentiality agreement and that you will be held to the letter of the agreement.”
Harmon glanced through the paperwork and hastily scrawled his signature on the bottom of each page. “Can I leave now? I really want to leave.”
“I bet you do, Harmon, but that’s not going to happen until after you have enjoyed our hospitality for a while. Liam, show Mr. Burke how to fasten the wrist and ankle cuffs and make him comfortable in one of the theme rooms. We’ll join him shortly.” Morgan took both their coats and checked them in the guest closet near the door.
Once Liam had led Harmon out of the reception area, Morgan turned to Harper. “How far can we take this? I’d like nothing better than to let Liam teach that bastard some manners—at the other end of a dragon tail. After what he put you through on the boat…not to mention what he has done to me.”
“There’s a fine line we don’t want to cross, and that would be serious bodily injury. I wouldn’t mind seeing his ass a nice shiny red—no welts or broken skin—no permanent damage. He has signed the paperwork, and he was given an opportunity to read it carefully, which he didn’t. That’s his problem. I can’t believe he’s still wearing the green bracelet from the Golden Dolphin.” She shook her head in bewilderment. “What is he thinking? Obviously, he doesn’t know what the bracelet signifies. We have all of that on the security footage. He’s now fully subject to disciplinary measures as determined by the club. I think we can at least put the fear of God into him and encourage him to write a full confession and a retraction of his article while he’s here.”
* * * *
Harmon was really scared now. He thought he just might have finally gone too far. There was no way he was getting out of here with his skin intact. He was really screwed. That bruiser Liam was twice his size. He had to be three hundred pounds of solid, bulging muscle, at least, and he didn’t look friendly. Harmon thought he might start to hyperventilate when the bruiser fastened the leather cuffs to his wrists and ankles. He wanted to resist, but he could see it would be a fruitless effort that would end with the same result as if he stood here and accepted whatever was going to happen to him. Just giving in didn’t feel right, but he was so scared he was about to pee himself.
Liam ushered him firmly but politely into another room and flipped the lights on. When Harmon looked around, he saw the same types of scary-looking equipment he had seen in the dungeon on the boat. He whimpered. Before he knew what hit him, Liam had removed his shirt, and his wrists were secured to stout chains hanging from the ceiling, and his ankles were fastened to bolts in the floor. Liam adjusted the chains until his arms were fully stretched above him, and he was barely touching the floor beneath him. “It looks like you’re about to get what you deserve, fucker. I hope they let me be the one to administer your discipline. We don’t take kindly to trespassers here.” Harmon was shaking so hard he thought he might just loosen his teeth.
Just then th
e two masked figures entered the room. Harmon knew by their voices that they were Court and Cameron. He wondered if he could appeal to Cameron. Maybe she could be persuaded to help him out here.
“Well, Mr. Burke, I see Liam has made you comfortable. Before he administers your punishment, would you like to tell me what happened in East Hampton and why you thought you could enter my home and steal confidential materials from me? I would really like to know your reasoning, if in fact you are capable of reasoning.”
“Wait a minute. I’m a respected member of the press. I have a right to investigate.”
“Is that so? Respected? Where does it say that investigating includes breaking and entering or burglary?”
“I didn’t break anything. The back door was open…”
“So, you admit to entering my home and stealing my briefcase?”
“Well, no…”
“Come on, Mr. Burke. You can’t have it both ways. Your sorry little article, based on information secured during the commission of a criminal act, also contains false and misleading statements, which could be considered libelous. Your article might seriously damage my drug trials and final FDA approval of a very promising drug that is intended to treat children with diabetes. Does that make you a hero, Mr. Burke?”
“I just wrote what was in the reports…”
“Really. I know every word in those reports, and nowhere does it say that the drug was harming trial participants. In fact, the lack of results is contra-indicative of harm.”
Harper stepped up. “Harmon, your article, your stalking of myself and Mr. Court, and your illegal entry into his home, all amount to felonious behavior by any standards. Depending on the value assigned to the vintage Hermes crocodile briefcase—and believe me they are pricey—and the value of the scientific papers contained therein, you could be facing some serious jail time. I wonder how you’ll like Rikers until your trial and then maybe Attica for the next few years.”
Harmon’s face turned pale. He had thought briefly about the consequences of stealing Court’s briefcase, but he hadn’t seriously thought he would end up in jail. I’m a reporter, after all. “I’m a reporter, and I have rights.”
“Really? Would you like to review the paperwork you signed on the Golden Dolphin and again just now? Your rights have been severely curtailed,” Harper reminded him. “Actually, you’ve signed them all away, again. Not to mention that by wearing the green bracelet, you’ve acknowledged your sub, or submissive, status. Liam is an excellent although very strict Dom, and I am sure he will do you justice.” Harmon gulped audibly.
Morgan continued. “If you want to get out of this with the minimum amount of damage to your hide and without serious jail time, Burke, you will do several things. First, you will write and sign a full confession admitting to trespassing and burglary. Second, you will write and file a full retraction of your erroneous article admitting you stole the reports, and you will post it on the AP website. Third, and most importantly, you will accept your punishment like a man—or not. Either way, you’re going to get your ass whipped.” Morgan stared coldly into his eyes through the black face mask. “I don’t have that much confidence in the legal system right now, and I would prefer to see that justice is administered here and now. In addition, you will return my briefcase and the contents. I presume they are in your car and have not been copied.”
Harmon’s face fell. He saw his brief triumph slipping through his fingers just like the photos he had taken on the boat. How could this be happening to him again?
“Liam, prepare Mr. Burke. We’ll just let him consider his limited options and then come back and discuss it with him again.” Morgan and Harper stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind them.
Liam stepped forward and reached for Harmon’s belt, and before Harmon knew it, his trousers and briefs were down around his knees, and he was naked. He couldn’t believe it. He was scared shitless. Would they actually whip him? Or were they just trying to scare him into signing the confession and posting the retraction? Either way, this was not looking good for him. “You can’t do this to me.”
“Actually, we can. As Mistress Cameron said, you signed the club rules and regulations, which makes you subject to the disciplinary measures exacted by the club for infractions of the rules. Unauthorized entry on club property is definitely an infraction, not to mention the other stuff you did. You are fucked, buddy. If I were you, I’d do whatever they said to do. And I’d do it fast, and with a smile and a very sincere apology. If you cooperate, Court may tell me to go easier on you. He’s not a mean bastard like some of the Masters around here.” He laughed with an evil grin. “Myself included. I can be a very mean bastard given the right circumstances.”
Oh, shit! He was getting a woody at the thought of Mistress Cameron watching him get his ass whipped. He willed it to go down before it was noticed. He could only imagine what would happen if they saw that. Unfortunately, his stubborn pecker refused to cooperate, standing its ground. Normally, it didn’t take too much to deflate his ego or his cock. Vera, his old girlfriend, had always gotten a kick out of getting him up and then watching him go down again.
* * * *
Morgan and Harper returned to the theme room. Liam had stripped Harmon down to basics, and his hairy, pear-shaped body was hanging from the chains. Morgan could almost feel sorry for him. Almost. Harmon had caused a lot of people a lot of worry and problems—not the least of all himself, and most especially Harper, for which he was not inclined to be forgiving. He was normally not a vindictive person, but he had a feeling he would never be rid of Harmon Burke if they didn’t make a strong impression on him, and his ass, right now.
“Well, Harmon, what’s it going to be? Are you going to comply with my suggestions, or are we going to contact the authorities?” Morgan stood in front of Harmon with his arms crossed over his chest while Liam stepped up behind him and flicked Harmon’s right butt cheek with the quirt he held in his hand. The quirt had a sharp bite, and Harmon jumped. “It’s only fair to tell you, Burke, that I don’t bark unless I intend to bite, so be warned.”
“Owww. You can’t do this…” Liam flicked his left butt cheek with a slightly harder snap. “Hey…”
“Harmon, your choices are limited. Are you going to make this right, or am I going to have Liam administer your full punishment? He’s just getting started here. That was just a little taste of what’s to come.”
He could see Harmon starting to quiver and shake. Apparently, a little pain went a long way with this guy. Liam landed a strike across both buttocks, eliciting a sharp cry from Harmon. Ah, I think he’s starting to get the idea. Liam quickly landed another two slightly less severe strikes before Morgan said, “What do you think, Burke? Think you can take the full out whipping you so richly deserve? If so, I’ll just have Liam get busy here.” Harmon’s butt was turning a satisfying red as Morgan waited for his reply. Morgan turned and handed the quirt to Harper. “Here. It’s your turn, Harper. Give him a few good ones, and then I’ll have Liam finish up.”
* * * *
Harper rarely disciplined her subs, and even though she carried a wealth of rage at Harmon, she found that she was unable to strike him in anger. It would be good to let some of that anger out and on the proper recipient, but she found she couldn’t do it. As she stood behind Harmon, his buttocks began to quiver in anticipation, and then, much to her surprise, his cock began to inflate. She watched in amazement as his flagpole stood out in front of him and began waving in the breeze. “Are you enjoying this, sub? If you are, we’re going to have Liam increase your punishment. This exercise is not intended for your enjoyment.”
“No…no. Please don’t…”
“Address me as Mistress, sub. Better yet, don’t address me at all.” Harper handed the quirt back to Liam. “You can finish, Liam. I’ve lost my taste for this exercise.”
Liam landed two more sharp strikes against each of Harmon’s hairy buttocks before he returned the quirt to Morgan.
<
br /> * * * *
Morgan took the quirt back into his hand and went to stand behind Harmon again. “Burke, this is your last chance to minimize your punishment. What’s it going to be?”
“Okay, okay,” he said, all the defiance gone from his voice. “I’ll write the confession and retraction.” Amazingly, his erection began to deflate as he stood there in defeat. Now Morgan really did feel a little sorry for him, but he was damned if he would let it show.
“Liam, get Mr. Burke a pen and paper, and let’s see what he comes up with. Burke, it had better be good, or Liam will finish what he started here. And believe me, you would really rather he didn’t—finish that is.”
Liam released Harmon from his restraints and allowed him to sit on his now-red butt and begin writing. Morgan and Harper went out to stand in the hallway again. When they returned to the room, Burke sat with his shoulders slumped, the signed confession and retraction sitting on the table. They both read the documents. While not overly detailed, they got the job done. “Liam, please photocopy these documents for Mr. Burke, and also, make a photocopy of his driver’s license.”
Morgan put a laptop in front of Harmon. “Sign in and post the retraction on AP, and we’ll be done here. Be sure to copy me on the e-mail, as well as Pharma Magazine and the other newspapers that picked up the story. Do you have my briefcase in your car?”
Harmon just looked at him with a sullen face.
“Well, do you?”
“It’s in my trunk.”
“Give it to Liam when he walks you out. If you give me any more problems Burke, pictures of your naked red butt and your stiffy will find their way to your paper and maybe a few others as well. I think that would be poetic justice, don’t you? After all the worry and problems your snooping caused on the Dolphin, it’s only fair you get a taste of your own medicine, so don’t tempt me.”
Michaels, Skye - Harper's Submission [Golden Dolphin 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 15