With This Collar (6 page)

Lana reached for her hand. Julia wished she had more than her skirt on beneath the blanket, but Lana didn’t seem to think anything of it.

Lana glanced at the two men. “Master Marcus… He’s handsome, don’t you think?”

“If you like rugged and rough.”

“You might. More than you think. Especially after what’s-his-name? Oh, yeah, Jason the Jackass. He was a freak, Jules. He came across as this sweet guy, but he was really just a control freak. That’s totally different from”—Lana waved a hand around—“this. If you’re tempted, live a little. You’re at a party, you’re having fun. It’s totally safe. And I’ve never seen Master Marcus with the same woman twice. So he doesn’t look like he’s looking for a relationship, either. So what’s the harm? Don’t judge yourself.” She exhaled dramatically. “We both know you’re your own worst critic.”

There was a lot of truth in that statement.

“You might learn that you’re not cut out for this, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

That had been their college motto. That was how they’d talked each other into rock climbing, sky diving, riding dizzying rollercoasters, even renting snowmobiles and building a makeshift igloo to protect themselves from the elements while drinking Irish coffee.

“Quit pouting about Jason the Jackass.”

She straightened her shoulders. “I’m over him, remember? I’m back out in the world. I started dating again.”

“Oh, yeah. What’s his name? Harvey the Hairball?”

“Quit being mean,” she said, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

“You’ve gone from one extreme to the other.”

“I’m just being cautious,” Julia insisted. “There’s nothing wrong with dating a nice guy for a change.”

“That’s like having rice pudding when you could have chocolate cake.”

“Chocolate cake can be too rich.”

Lana, with the knowledge gleaned over years of friendship, said, “Uh-huh. Can’t wait to hear what you have to say at our next happy hour!”

“Let’s say hello to the rest of our guests,” Ben said, interrupting them. “Then I want to get out of here and on with our honeymoon.”

“Yes, Sir!” Lana said.

She squeezed Julia’s hand tightly then dropped it.

“Congratulations on your wedding,” Julia told them. “I hope you’re very happy together.”

“And on Lana’s collaring,” Marcus added.

Lana traced her fingers across the small heart that dangled from the D-ring. “I still can’t believe it’s real.”

Ben helped his bride from the couch then placed his hand against the small of her back and guided her from the room.

“Did she convince you we’re not all monsters?” Marcus asked when they were alone.

“She said you two had played together.”

“We did, a few months ago. She was curious about other Doms, and Ben had never used a tawse, so he arranged for the scene. We did it here at the house. Damien and Ben both supervised.”

“I don’t think I’d want to play with anyone else.”

“As your Dom, that would be my choice, but I’d take your wishes seriously. Unless you used a safe word.”

She looked up at him and shivered, even though the house was warm. “She also said she’s never seen you with the same woman twice.”

“Did she tell you my grade point average in college? I’ll have to talk to Ben about his wife’s proclivity for gossip.”

She grabbed his forearm. She was taken aback by how strong and unyielding he felt. “It’s my fault. Please don’t blame Lana.”

“I’m not serious. She was trying to be a good friend. To set your mind at ease, I’m single. I don’t have a particular sub I play with all the time, and I intend to stay that way. Is that a problem for you?”

“I prefer it,” she replied. Even the idea of someone as overwhelming in her life was formidable.

“Would you like to see the dungeon?”

Julia wanted to be as self-assured as Lana was. Instead, nerves wormed their way through her body.

“We can leave any time you want.”

“What about my clothes?”

“They can stay here. I told you I want you naked.”

She dragged the blanket more tightly around her shoulders.

“That stays, too.”

“Do you show no mercy?”

“Do you really want me to?” he countered.

Did she? Or did she want the new experience? Finally, she made the painful admission, “I’m not very comfortable walking around in the nude, even in my bedroom.”

“BDSM is about dropping the pretences. I want you completely exposed. And believe me, sub, you have nothing to hide.”

She’d told him the truth. In the locker room at the gym, she dressed beneath a towel. At home, she stepped from the shower into a robe. She had never thought her body was all that great. And to walk around a house naked with a total stranger? On the other hand, if she would never see any of these people again…

As she waged an internal debate, he remained silent. That was the thing that struck her the most about him. He apparently knew when to wait for her to work through her doubts and fears and when to push her.

“Julia, drop the blanket and take off the skirt,” he said finally.

She exhaled. “I don’t suppose I could wear a bra and panties?”

“Naked.”

She let go of the blanket then stood and removed her skirt.

He nodded. His approval—spoken or not—made her feel warm. He organised her belongings and the blanket before saying, “I request you not to hide your body in any way.”

“But…”

He regarded her. “That means I want your arms at your sides.”

As he’d folded the blanket, she had covered her breasts and her pubic mound with her hands.

She did as he’d said. Suddenly she felt vulnerable standing in front of him. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He captured her chin and tipped her head back. “I admire your bravery.”

She so wanted to please him.

“As you said, it’s only for tonight. If you need to talk about anything, use your safe words. You have a womanly body you should be proud of.”

Since college, she’d engaged in a constant battle with the scales. The digital display always read ten pounds heavier than she wanted to be. “But I’m too—”

“You’re extraordinarily attractive. I appreciate your curves.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across her nipples.

Instantly they hardened. Even though he’d hurt them earlier, she craved more.

“Shoulders back,” he told her. “Be proud.”

When he looked at her like that, green eyes smoky with desire, she could refuse him nothing.

She tossed her hair over her shoulders and did as he said.

Shockingly—under his relentless scrutiny—she began to gain confidence.

“Stay there.”

It took all of her will to remain in place as he slowly walked around her.

“Now put your hands behind your neck. And keep them there. I want your eyes open the whole time. That’s another way you have of hiding, and I’m on to you.”

Being with a man who saw her, and through her, totally unnerved her.

He moved around her again. She looked straight ahead as he touched her shoulder and a butt cheek as well as one of her hip bones.

“Good,” he said.

He stopped in front of her and cupped her breasts in his palms. Confounding her, he didn’t touch her aching nipples. She was ravenous for his touch.

Finally he stepped back, leaving her wanting.

“Good girl.”

A part of her believed she should find the words patronising, but she didn’t. Instead, they gave her a secret little thrill. She’d never tell her friends about it. No way would they understand. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure even she understood.

“As we walk, I will want you to stay about a foot behind me. If we stop to talk to anyone, you’re not to speak unless I give you a signal that it’s permissible. If I give you orders, I expect you to follow them.”

She set her teeth. As much as she wanted to simply go with the experience, part of her instinctively rebelled.

He raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for her response.

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

He smiled, but said, “We’ll work on your tone later.”

Did he miss anything? More self-conscious and nervous than she had ever been, she followed him from the room. A few people greeted him as he walked towards the stairs, but no one paid her any attention. She noticed others—presumably subs—who were naked. Others were in various states of undress. Some Doms were fully clothed, like Marcus and Ben. Others wore alluring, sexy outfits.

Marcus glanced over his shoulder at her. “Are you doing okay?”

She nodded.

“I’d prefer to hear your response.”

“I’m fine. Sir.” That he’d checked on her reassured her. There were differences, she realised, between the men she’d dated and Marcus. He’d told her to discuss anything that bothered her. But he’d also made it clear he was in charge.

She kept the appropriate space between them as they descended the staircase. They emerged into a bright, well-lit space with people sipping cocktails and talking.

The dungeon was nothing like she’d imagined. She had expected a large, cold, barren room, with shackles attached to stone walls. Emaciated, tortured subs would be naked and pleading for mercy.

Instead, this area could have been photographed for a luxury magazine. The floor was a polished tile, and a few thick rugs were scattered around. A bar in the far corner was tended by two servers, one male, one female, each wearing a bow tie and not much else.

There were a couple of couches, lots of pillows and a number of blankets. Lana, Ben and Damien chatted in a semicircle.

And no one was chained to the wall. At least as far as she could see.

“Well?” he asked.

“It’s not what I expected,” she admitted. “I thought it would be scarier.”

“Hands at your sides,” he reminded her. “Unless you would like to be bound?”

She hadn’t realised she’d been rubbing her upper arms. “Sorry, Sir.”

“Much better.”

A server approached, carrying glasses of sparkling wine. Marcus waved them off.

“I think I’d like a glass,” she said.

“No more alcohol,” he countered. “I’d be happy to fetch you an orange juice or bottle of water. I don’t want your judgement clouded.”

“Another glass of wine is hardly going to hurt. And a Merlot would be even better.”

“I’m not negotiable,” he said. “Certain rules are for your safety. If you can’t follow those, we will not proceed.”

She sighed, recognising a battle she couldn’t win. “I’d love an orange juice.” Anything to occupy her hands and make this seem more normal. “Thank you.”

“Stay right here.”

She obeyed, even though it tested all her resolve. Part of her wanted to dash for the door.

Damien joined Marcus at the bar, and the two exchanged a few words. They both glanced over at her, and she forced herself not to cover up.

The bald man she’d seen upstairs was talking to a Dom. As she watched, the Dom moved aside and the other man moved behind the sub, who was also male. Nothing here was surprising her anymore. The bald man took the sub’s wrists in one hand and apparently applied pressure to the man’s shoulder. The sub slowly lowered to his knees.

A few minutes later, Marcus rejoined her, and she gratefully accepted the beverage. “Do you see what’s going on over there?” she demanded.

“That’s Gregorio,” he said. “For lack of a better term, Gregorio is the property’s caretaker. He lives here full-time and keeps the dungeon ready for entertaining. Damien is generous. Others can lease his space and, in fact, a production company does film here from time to time. But Gregorio is always here to make sure the house rules are enforced. He’s also available to scene with people.”

“He just made that man get on his knees.”

“It doesn’t take a lot of pressure,” Marcus assured her. “Gregorio is an expert at controlling recalcitrant submissives.”

As they watched, Gregorio helped the sub to his feet. The Dom moved into the place where Gregorio had stood. The Dom touched his sub. Gregorio repositioned the man’s touch then nodded.

Moments later, the sub was on his knees again.

“Gregorio is a switch,” Marcus explained. “That means he is able to dominate or fill the role of a submissive, though he generally only subs if Damien is on site to ensure things are run correctly. We will be observed periodically while we’re here,” he continued. “Damien and Gregorio ensure the safety of the house’s submissives.”

“Do…uhm… I mean… They don’t participate, do they?”

“They don’t, unless invited. And, before you ask, the decision as to whether they will participate or not is mine, not yours.”

She shivered.

She watched Gregorio supervise the Dom one more time. Finally, Gregorio nodded his approval then moved away.

“There are a few private rooms down here,” Marcus told her. “But mostly there are screens to divide the space.”

So maybe people
were
chained to the walls elsewhere.

“Shall we watch a scene?”

Her heart suddenly thundered. She was saved from answering when Damien joined them.

“I like to meet my guests,” he said, offering his hand. “Damien Lowell.”

She had no idea how to behave. What did you say to a man when you were standing in his basement…dungeon…naked, especially when he was fully dressed in a grey suit and a tie?

Even under normal circumstances, she would find him disarming. She looked at his hand as if she were in a foreign country and didn’t know the customs. If she were truly a sub, she would probably kneel or curtsey. But since she was just a guest and had twice sworn she would never kneel, she wasn’t sure what to do.

Without questioning her instincts, she looked to Marcus for guidance.

“Shake Master Damien’s hand.”

“Master Marcus and Lana tell me this is your first exposure to our lifestyle.”

His grip was firm, but not overbearing. This man wore authority as easily as he did the tailored suit. “Uh… Yes.” She wished she understood how to properly address him.

“Welcome. I hope you’ll find us hospitable.” He unclasped her hand, and she had that same odd feeling that she’d had when Marcus had touched her for the first time. These men were powerful, as untamed as the mountains surrounding them.