Sybil Disobedience

Sybil Disobedience A Taboo Wishes Story

By Brynn Paulin

Resplendence Publishing, LLC http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Resplendence Publishing, LLC 2665 N Atlantic Avenue, #349 Daytona Beach, FL 32118 Sybil Disobedience Copyright © 2012 Brynn Paulin Edited by Christine Allen-Riley and Juli Simonson Cover art by Les Byerley, www.les3photo8.com Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-468-0 Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Electronic Release: February 2012 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

To Mr. Inspiration

Prologue

Kellon Marecek stared at Sybil, his girlfriend and sub, in disbelief as she stood just inside the front door of his apartment with her arms crossed over her chest. “…So, I think it’s best if we end things here,” she was saying. He held up a hand to stop her. “Why?” “You know why. What have I been telling you? What have I been telling you for weeks?” she retorted. She looked down at the floor, and her fingers tightened on her upper arms, gouging in and reminding him that this was difficult on her. It would be difficult for any sub—basically telling off her Dom. But then, she was relieving him of that duty, wasn’t she? “I need more than you’re giving me,” she said finally. “I can’t force you to—” She drove a hand through her short, spiky hair. “God, I sound like a complete ungrateful masochist when I say this. I need you to spank me. I need that pain and the promise of that discipline, and you won’t give that to me. You refuse because of your past. I understand. I get that. But it doesn’t change my needs.” “Sybil—” “No. We’ve hashed this over and over,” she interrupted, tossing up her hand again. “It’s over, Kellon.” She turned and reached for the doorknob. “Sybil!” he tried again, grabbing her arm. “I command you to stop.” She tensed beneath his hand. Slowly, her head turned, and the pitying look in her eyes cut him dead. Stunned, he let his arm drop and backed a few feet away. She was out the door before the finality of the situation finished careening through him. Red-hot anger followed as her car started and tore recklessly down the street.

Raging, he stormed through the house, his hands fisted and his entire body vibrating with the need to punch something, to scream his fury. What could he do? Tell her how wrong she was and sound like a grasping fool? His fingers turned white on the doorframe of his bedroom, his vision dimming at the sight of Sybil’s present draped over the corner of his bed. Her gift for their one-year anniversary. His concession to both their needs. His silent proclamation that he’d come to terms with his past. A flogger. Grabbing it, he flung it across the room, spun on his heel and slammed the door behind him. This wasn’t over. This wasn’t over at all.

Chapter One

“Sybil.” Sybil Anderson stiffened at the sound of the deep, authoritative voice, instinctively responding to the man who’d once commanded her—until she’d broken up with him three months ago. Kellon Marecek. Even without looking at him, a quiver assailed her middle, and moisture lubricated her pussy. If she glanced up, she knew she’d see his mouthwatering, wide shoulders and slim hips clad in black. The polo-style shirt would be stretched over his thickly muscled arms and chest. It would be slightly loose over his flat belly and would be tucked neatly into his utility pants that fastened over the generous bulge of his flaccid cock—a cock that was made for such pleasure. And his face, his dark hair would curl over his brow and point her attention to his turbulent, condemning, blue eyes. Yeah, that’s what she’d see. Steeling herself, she refused to so much as peek at him. “Kellon,” she returned in the same tone then turned to walk off. It sucked that they worked at the same place, The Dungeon, her as a costuming consultant and him as the head of security. It seemed as if she ran into him all the time—more so now than when she’d belonged to him. She didn’t pretend that it was her imagination. He was stalking her. And that ramped up her arousal for him. Not good. She wasn’t going back to being his sub—not to a halfway Dom who refused to get rough with her when she needed it. And she frequently needed it. Naughty was her middle name. He tied her down, gagged her, commanded her, but could she get even a nipple clamp or a spanking? No. Considering he acted like such a big, tough security guy, he was by far the

gentlest lover Syb had ever encountered—and she could have accepted that if not for the somewhat twisted up psyche inside her that demanded the full-on kink of pain for pleasure. She needed his hand clapping down on her ass. He needed it, too, whether he admitted it or not. Syb sensed it just vibrating there beneath his skin, and she hungered for it, like a famine victim needing meat. “Don’t,” he commanded, catching her arm and drawing her back to him. She glared up at him, ignoring his perfect, angular bone structure, sexy scruff, midnight hair and blue eyes—all the things that made her wet and begging whenever she looked at him. Hardening her gaze and hiding her need, she glared at him. “Kellon, I have work to do. It might be okay for you to wander around, but I have appointments all day.” “Until when?” She wrenched her arm away. “That’s not your business.” “You will always be my business,” he growled, his faint Southern accent becoming more pronounced as his anger crept up on them. “No,” she retorted. “I’m not. I think I’ve made that pretty clear.” His fingers clenched, and she imagined them around her arm. His jaw locked, and she saw fury in his eyes before he shielded it from her. She suspected he had a lot to say about this situation, but they both knew this wasn’t the time or the place. The time was a year ago, and the place wasn’t her workshop in front of surveillance cameras. If she had her way, they’d never discuss this again because she’d heard all of it for months. His tune never changed. If only he’d bend her over her desk, yank down her panties and paddle her. She pressed her thighs together as she imagined him fucking her, right there, cameras or no, his hand smacking down on her ass as he plunged in and out of her body. Trembling, she took a shaky breath. Good lord, she needed to find a new guy! She had to stop fantasizing about Kellon behaving the way she demanded. It wasn’t up to her. She was a sub, and she couldn’t force him. That was the main reason she’d stepped away. More and more, she’d found herself trying to top him from the bottom, trying to get their relationship to go the way she wanted it, instead of the way he dictated it. Their differences of wills had been a disease eating at the union. It would have destroyed them both.

They desired different things from a D/s relationship, and that was the crux of the problem. She couldn’t change him and what he needed; she couldn’t change what she needed. The only option had been to step away, to attempt to remain friends and forget being lovers, but Kellon tenaciously fought that. “We need to talk after work tonight,” he told her. “Can’t,” she replied. “I have a date.” His fingers caught her chin, biting into her skin as he forced her to look at him. She almost groaned at the false promise in the grip. “Who?” he demanded. “My new Master.” “You do not have a new Master,” he growled and another aroused tremble rolled through her. “I do,” she insisted. “You know what I want. He’s willing to give that to me. My ass still feels so…good.” It was a lie, and she instantly regretted it when pain and disbelief filled his face at her betrayal. He hid it quickly. “Who is it? You haven’t been with anyone.” “He’s not from The Dungeon.” Kellon stared into her eyes, and she fought to defiantly meet his gaze. His face darkened with anger, a nerve pulsing near the corner of his eye. He jerked his hand away, and she stumbled backward a few steps. “I don’t believe you,” he informed her. He breathed harshly as his emotions got the better of him—a rarity, and she knew it. “I will see you this evening, and you had best be truthful with me then. I have had enough of this.” He spun away, and stormed off, slamming the door to her work area as he departed. Reverberating silence and pain and, yes, desire surrounded her. Seeing him every day was like flaying off strips of her skin, bit by bit. It cut into her creativity, sleep and her every waking thought. Soon, there’d be nothing of her left to fight him. Perhaps, it was time to leave The Dungeon and find other work. She loved costuming subs for their fantasies with their Masters, but maybe she should investigate opening the lingerie and more shop she’d considered from time to time. Hell, she could even look into working at one of the local theaters. Anywhere, but here.

Echoing, hollow agony ached within her. Part of her wanted to capitulate and be with Kellon, but he deserved a girl who wanted his brand of domination. Syb wanted both more and less. Before he’d taken her life by storm, she’d experimented a lot, and she knew what she wanted. She’d always laughed and said, “Once you go smack, you never go back”. And then she’d hooked up with Kellon. It underlined her mantra. She’d thought she’d be okay. She had her perfect man. So what if he wouldn’t engage in the same kink she wanted? It hadn’t taken long to learn the truth. They were too different. More and more she’d grown dissatisfied. She loved him, and she refused to keep trying to change him. It wasn’t right. He was who he was. And sadly, she was who she was, too. It broke her heart, but she’d had to cut him loose, whether he’d wanted that or not. Neither of them could be fulfilled when they wanted different things. She didn’t want to be “smacked around”, but she did like the spanking part of submission, the pain of a well-placed clamp or a perfectly timed pinch. Kellon refused to go down that road. As time had worn on, she’d become convinced that perhaps she was holding him back from the right sub—someone who’d appreciated his brand of discipline. And that was the thing… The more he’d sensed she wanted something else, something of increased intensity, the harsher he’d gotten. There was a fine line between Dom and asshole, and Kellon had been crossing consistently over that line. It wasn’t him. Even Kellon had agreed with that assessment. Her hand fisted a dress hanging on a rack near her desk. Her head bowed. Kellon still considered himself her Dom, even when she claimed he wasn’t, even when she professed to have a new one. He’d gnaw at that like a rabid dog and ferret of the truth in nothing flat. She’d have to present proof and make him believe. Kellon was one of the strongest willed men she knew, but he needed her help with letting her go. She knew just who would assist her. Quickly, she scooped up the phone and dialed. “Hey, Pete,” she greeted her friend when he answered. She’d known him forever, and he was just the man for this job. He wouldn’t like the idea at first, but she could convince him. **** That woman was the most infuriating female Kellon had ever met. And he wanted her permanently in his life, which was too bad for him, he supposed.

Fuming, his eyes narrowed and his arms crossed imposingly over his chest, he stood on the mezzanine overlooking the spacious lobby of The Dungeon and stared at the happy couples cavorting below him. Hmph. They acted as if they’d never hit a speed bump and the world and their relationships were perfect. And that only darkened his mood. “Problem?” Kellon didn’t glance over at his boss and friend, Rob Colvin, who ran and owned this establishment. “She says she has a new Dom,” he grated. “She’s lying.” “Of course, she is, but I don’t know how to prove it. If she’d listen to me for five minutes…” And that was only half the problem. She wouldn’t listen, so she’d never believe he’d been working past his hang-ups—well, he thought he was. He’d never actually spanked or flogged anyone. That privilege was reserved for Syb’s ass. Angry with the situation, he glared at a Dom who led his sub through the lobby on a short lead. They slipped into a side alcove, and Kellon saw the woman go down to her knees. The man spoke to her, and immediately, her hands went to the closure of his pants. “Perhaps, you should have one of your men come up here,” Rob suggested. “You’re going to scare the clientele.” Kellon turned his irritated glare on his friend. “Are you suggesting I can’t do my job now?” Rob held up his hands. “Hey, this is between you and Syb. Don’t turn it on me, and keep it away from the customers.” “Sure. Will do, boss.” They stood in silence for a moment before Rob continued. “If I were you, I’d find out who this new guy is.” His hands gripped the smooth wood rail in front of them. “And then I’d run him the hell outta town.” Kellon nodded. That was exactly his plan. Syb was his, and whatever game she was playing, she damned well knew that. ****

“Where’s my poppet?” a voice boomed across the costume shop just before the end of Syb’s shift. Pete… It’d taken some convincing, but he’d decided to help her though he disagreed with her methodology. It was only when she’d explained this was her last resort before leaving the job she loved that he’d consented—with the caveat that she make him more costumes for his own job. That was no problem. She’d do what she had to, to make Kellon back off. Every time she saw him, her heart cried for what they couldn’t have. More and more, she felt herself weakening and ready to compromise for a half-life. Pete’s presence would push Kellon away then maybe she could heal and truly move on. Butterflies slammed around her middle now that the first part of her plan was moving into action. She’d left a message at the desk, telling them to let Peter McBride back here though he wasn’t a member of The Dungeon. No doubt, Kellon had heard. All guests’ names were vetted by security. And if it had anything to do with her, Kellon would feel it had to do with him, as well. She blew out a breath. This was it. “I’m here,” she called, stepping from behind a rack of clothes. Hurrying, she crossed the shop. Pete stood just inside the open doorway, his legs parted to shoulder-width and his hands resting on his hips. Formidable if one didn’t know him. She wasn’t at all surprised to see he’d dressed in black leather pants and a black mesh shirt that made him look a bit like Tyr from that space show a few years back. In fact, as a graphic novelist who frequented fantasy conferences and such, that was his intention. Plus, he knew how she loved the way that shirt emphasized his muscles and beautiful caramel skin tone. Too bad, they weren’t really into each other. She dropped to her knees and bowed her head. “Master Peter, how may I serve you?” Anyone who passed the shop would recognize this gesture. At The Dungeon, a sub wasn’t required to kneel to anyone but his or her Master. “Very good, Sybbie,” Pete said. “Now, come up here and give me a hug.” “Yes, Sir,” she replied. Standing, she went easily into her friend’s embrace. He was generally the same size as Kellon, and having those powerful arms close around her was heaven. With a content sigh, she breathed in Peter’s dark and spicy cologne.

His head dropped beside hers, and he whispered in her ear. “Glad to see you, sweet cheeks.” His fingers caught in her hair and he pulled back her head. “Have you been naughty today, slave?” She caught a movement from the corner of her eye. Kellon. Biting her lip, she nodded. “Very naughty,” she replied. She really had; she’d lied to Kellon. “I’ll expect a full accounting of your transgressions over dinner,” he told her, clasping her upper arms and holding her from his body as he spoke. A slight move of his head and a sideways slide of his eyes indicated his awareness of Kellon’s presence. Acting as if he hadn’t heard a thing, he tugged her roughly to her desk and bent her over it with a hand to the back of her neck. A flood of arousal spiked through her—not because she was about to get spanked, but because she knew Kellon would see it. Kellon would witness how hot it got her. “Sybil!” Kellon growled from the doorway, sending a wave of trembles down her spine. “What the hell is going on?” He stormed forward, shoved Pete aside then pulled Syb up and tucked her beneath an arm as if protecting her from the other man. His actions hissed “Mine” but he didn’t go as far as to say it. Peter raised an eyebrow as he surveyed Kellon. “You must be the ex,” he said calmly, his words dismissive. “Kindly release my sub.” “Over my dead body—” “I’m sure it can be arranged,” the man interrupted dangerously. “Leave, or I will have you removed.” “You can’t do that!” Syb protested, trying to slip away from Kellon and seeing her hope of dissuading him fade away. Twisting her body, she slipped his hold then evaded him when he tried to bring her back to him. “Kellon, cut it out!” she snapped. “You’re acting like a creepy stalker.” “Creepy?” he repeated slowly, and she saw fury roiling in his eyes. He didn’t bother to hide his emotions from her, and for the first time, she wished he would. His intense stare flipped her stomach as it zeroed in on her. “I’m acting like someone who cares about you and wants to work things out.” She shook her head, fighting to remain unmoved. “It’s too late.” “I’ll leave,” Pete offered, stepping forward. “With my sub. Syb’s not a prisoner, despite this place being called The Dungeon. She’s mine now; accept that, man.”

Kellon scowled at the man, knowing he had no choice right now. “I’ll never accept that,” he said, his voice flat. He leveled his gaze at Syb once more, letting her know this was far from over. He’d leave, but he wasn’t finished with her by a long shot. If Syb wasn’t bent on this farce of a scene, he’d kick this man out on his ass and never let Syb near him again. No one touched Kellon’s woman. As it was, unparalleled horror had filled him when he’d watched Syb fall to her knees before another man. Crushing loss twisted in his gut. This wasn’t happening. She was his. He couldn’t let it happen! “Kellon,” Syb said quietly. “Let me go. It’s time. You have to know that.” Know that? It wasn’t anywhere near time! A million years from now would be too soon. But he couldn’t force her to be with him. He wasn’t a psychopath or the “creepy stalker” she’d just accused him of being. Feeling as if shards of glass were ripping through his veins, he stepped away from Syb and Peter then walked from the room without a backward glance, without a word. Thoughts of what would happen sickened him as he stepped into the corridor. His head throbbed and bile rolled into his throat. For the first time in his career, he didn’t check out with his team; he just walked from the building, kept on to his car, then got in and drove. He didn’t know where he was going, but soon, he’d left both the city and the suburbs behind. As he raced down the highway, caring little for speed or the possibility of a ticket, he soon found trees and empty expanses thickening around the road. By rote, he took a familiar turn-off and after a short drive found himself on the way to his house. It should have been their house. They’d been set to close on it just a week after the breakup, and sometimes, he wondered if the stress and permanency of that had pushed Sybil to end things. He parked in front of the Victorian house then climbed the steps to the wraparound porch and the swing that hung to one side, overlooking a burbling stream. Slouching onto the white painted slats, he propped a foot on the porch rail and stared at the rushing water. The choppy current seemed murky beneath the iron-gray clouds overhead. It would be full-on night soon, but Kellon doubted the moon would show through the atmospheric coverage. He had to admit, it felt a bit like his life—no light in the darkness.

He almost wished he could kidnap Syb and bring her here and make her see reason, in much the same manner as Rob had done with his wife once upon a time. But Kellon knew that would never work. Syb had to choose to be with her Dom—and that was him, no matter what bullshit she was spouting now. “Utter bullshit,” he muttered to himself, echoing his thoughts. He scowled, hating melodrama and hating the way he felt. He wanted to hate Syb for doing this to him, too, but he couldn’t. He understood. She’d needed more from him, and she didn’t believe he could provide it. His chest tightened as his fingers flexed. What would she think if he gave her what she wanted? Would it be too late? As much as he wanted to forget the man, there was no denying Peter’s presence. Nothing could cut Kellon the way seeing Syb with another man had. But something was off in Peter and Syb’s so-called relationship. It wasn’t sour grapes that had Kellon discerning an oddity there. He hadn’t become head of security without developing a sixth sense about situations, and something was just wrong with that coupling. Rising, Kellon headed for the house and pulled out his cell phone. Before the day was out, he’d find out everything there was to know about Peter McBride. By tomorrow morning, Friday, he’d know exactly what he was going to do about Sybil. He glanced around, smiling at the lack of neighbors. Perhaps kidnapping, of a sort, wasn’t too farfetched.

Chapter Two

Syb couldn’t be happier that it was Friday. Lately, it had become more and more difficult to be at work. If it wasn’t for necessary client interaction, she’d ask if it were possible for her to work from home. Rob had recently intimated that she might be able to hire an assistant. Since Syb was the main designer of the costumes, perhaps she could bring on someone to act as a “front room” receptionist, while she spent half if not most of her time away from here. Not that she disliked The Dungeon. She loved her co-workers, even Kellon, and that was the problem. As if summoned by her thoughts, he stepped through the costume shop’s front door as she was processing garments that had been returned from the cleaners. Her heart sped up as he turned the lock. Stepping away from the rack of clothes, she watched him turn while she silently waited. What now? “Kellon—” “Silence,” he snapped, though his face remained utterly calm. He seemed far less disturbed by their situation than he had last night. “On your knees,” he growled. Immediately, her pussy went damp, her womb tightening on a harsh quiver. Still, she didn’t move. “Now, Sybil,” he ordered. Well, hell… They stared at each other, Kellon implacable, Syb unwilling and confused. When it became apparent he wasn’t leaving nor giving an inch, she reluctantly dropped to her knees on the shop’s terracotta tiles. Belligerent to the end, she crossed her arms and glared at him.

His raised brow was the only response. The flooring bit into her knees as they faced off, neither giving quarter. Meanwhile, he seemed perfectly happy to stand over her and wait. She knew she wasn’t getting off her knees until he was good and ready. Sighing to make it clear to him that she moved under duress rather than submission, she slid her hands to the small of her back and lowered her chin a notch. “I’ve learned a few things,” he said moments later, rewarding her compliance. “Really?” she asked, sarcastically. It wouldn’t surprise her if he’d checked on Pete. She’d halfway expected it. “Let me guess. Someone’s taught you how to push around other people’s subs. They’ve fed you some bullshit about all women submitting to you, whether they’re yours or not.” Irritation flashed momentarily through his eyes, but he remained otherwise unmoved. “Do you really want to send me down this road?” “What are you going to do? Spank me?” she retorted. Done with the game, she started to get up. His hand flattened on the top of her head, holding her in place. “Right about now, I wouldn’t give you that pleasure.” Everything went still inside her. What did he mean by that? “Are you ready to listen?” he asked. His quiet words compelled her silence. “Sybil,” he prompted. “Yes,” she whispered. When he stood over her like this, when he commanded her, everything inside her trembled with need—she needed him. She couldn’t catch her breath as fire raced through her veins, scorching every cell into awareness. “What was that?” “Yes—” She shook her head. He wanted her to call him “Sir”, but she couldn’t. Not without tanking everything she’d worked for the past months. Oh, and that’s been so great? she thought. “Don’t make me,” she said quietly. “Because Peter McBride’s your Dom now? Is that it?” he demanded. “Yes.”

“I don’t think so.” Pivoting away, he left her kneeling in the middle of the workshop, confused and unsettled. She sank back on her heels and stared at the door. For the first time since she’d broken up with him, he’d taken a stand. And now, she didn’t know what to do. **** Still thinking of the scene in Syb’s workshop today, Kellon surveyed the bank of monitors before him and watched activities around the club. Though the club’s private-play areas were treated like rented apartments and not monitored, the numerous public areas had security cameras. At the moment, only one of the monitors interested him—the one showing various views of the costume shop. With a faint smile, he watched Syb as she interacted with one of the newer subs. Since this morning, she’d changed into one of her skimpy, anime-inspired outfits. The brief blouse tied over her breasts and bared her middle. The short skirt barely covered her ass and white ruffled panties peeked from beneath. Thigh-high stockings encased her long, shapely legs that ended in mile-high Mary-Jane pumps. His smirk deepened. It was as if she’d put on one of his favorite outfits to placate him now that she knew he’d investigated her secret. Likely, she wanted to sidetrack him, but he wouldn’t forget things weren’t as they seemed with Peter. Kellon bit back the beginning of a full-fledged grin. It pleased him that Syb certainly wasn’t sleeping with that man. Relishing his smug mood, he zoomed in on Syb, imaging the confrontation when he dealt with her deception tonight. As if to rile Kellon, Syb had left her new “Master’s” name at the desk again today. Kellon didn’t care half as much this time as last. Syb wasn’t going home with Peter this evening—or ever—but she might just get exactly what she wanted so badly—the spanking of her life. While he watched, she pulled a foot from her shoe and flexed it. He shook his head, eying the slim curve of her sole. Months ago, he’d told her to break in that pair of shoes, but she didn’t dress like this at home and only wore the killer Mary Jane’s at work. Away from here, she was more likely to wear Keds, jeans and a T-shirt bearing some snarky remark. Another case of Dom knows best. She just needed to learn that.

The sound of a security card disengaging the locked door behind him brought Kellon back to the moment. Quickly, he straightened and pulled a little closer to the desk to disguise the erection that had sprung to life as he’d watched Syb. “Still, having issues with Syb?” Kellon looked over his shoulder to find Rob just inside the door. He stared at the monitor Kellon had been watching, probably noticing it was zoomed to the frame containing Syb. “I have it under control,” Kellon answered. “I hear she left with a new guy yesterday—” “Peter McBride.” “You’ve checked into him?” “Of course.” “And?” Rob asked as he walked to the security desk. He leaned against it, his back squarely blocking Syb’s monitor as he crossed his arms and ankles. His look challenged Kellon as he waited for an answer. “Peter McBride is a graphic artist. He tends to travel a conference circuit that takes him all over the country. He doesn’t have a sub right now, and he hasn’t had one in several years, though he really is a Dom. He’s definitely into the scene. Checking our connections, I learned he’s in good standing at several clubs on the east and west coasts. That’s where he spends most of his time. He’s well respected in all circles.” Rob nodded. “So why do you doubt he’s taken our Sybil under his command?” “He’s gay. Syb doesn’t play unless there’s some carnal reward waiting for her. She’s not into submission without sexual gratification. She wants to know that, at some point, she’ll be fucked unless she’s being punished. I don’t think that’s changed since she left me. It hasn’t been that long.” “So what are you going to do?” “I’m done playing. I’m stepping in, and she’s listening. After that, if she wants to move on… Well, she won’t want to.” Kellon stared at Rob’s shoulder as if he could see though it to Syb if he looked hard enough. Would she listen? Better, would she believe him? That was the fifteen trillion dollar question. He’d always had a dominant personality, so stepping into the D/s lifestyle hadn’t been a stretch for him. Being in command, seeing to his sub’s needs, bondage and even non-physical

discipline and controlling pleasure had been quite natural for him. Spanking and the like wasn’t necessarily a sign or imperative of the lifestyle. Then he’d met Syb, and she’d needed more from him. It had taken him months to come to terms with that—months and some non-professional therapy from the man confronting him now. But Kellon was ready to take that next step though he was still cautious. He’d come from an abusive home. The idea of spanking Syb worried him. He couldn’t be an abuser. “I know what you’re thinking,” Rob informed him, leaning forward slightly with his arms still crossed. “Don’t use your psychobabble on me; not right now,” Kellon sighed. His boss had an annoying double degree in business and human behavior. He didn’t hesitate to use his knowledge on his friends and employees when he deemed it necessary. “You’re worried that when you spank her or use a flogger you might get too rough.” “Rob…” Kellon warned. “You’ve got yourself under such a tight hold it’s a wonder you don’t creak when you move. Look, have you discussed this with her, really talked? Set guidelines? You know that’s one of the first tenets of BDSM. Consensual. She knows she can’t force you; that’s why she’s doing this. You have to take the first step and prove that it’s your idea.” “So you’re analyzing her, too?” “There’s not much to detect. Syb’s transparent. You don’t need a psychology degree to see what she’s about. I think she’s trying to force your hand.” Kellon’s eyes narrowed. “You think she’s manipulating me into do what she wants?” “Or into going away. But yes, she’s trying to control this.” “Unacceptable,” he growled. “So what are you going to do about it?” He knew what he wanted to do, but that would give Syb exactly what she wanted. Not that he’d ever strike her in anger. He’d cut off his hands first. Rob studied Kellon as if he knew exactly what Kellon was thinking. His head jerked toward the door. “Come to my office.” Without waiting, he headed for the door. Sighing, Kellon stood. Outside the security enclosure, he beckoned to one of his men to take over at the monitors then he followed Rob. His

boss closed the door behind them then circled his desk. He sank into his chair, motioning Kellon to the seat opposite him. Feeling out of sorts, Kellon plopped down, slinging his arms on the rests as he slouched against the back. Hardly professional, but this wasn’t a professional conversation. “Seems to me that you’re at an impasse,” Rob began. “The two of you are beautifully matched, save for this one sticking point. You’re the kind of Dom who gives her space to play but offers enough structure and command that she doesn’t feel out of control.” “Hmph,” Kellon grated. “That’s worked out so well for me.” His boss’ brows drew together again, and Kellon knew Rob was reading his body once more and deciphering his thoughts. “Don’t—” he began before Rob cut him off. “It’s not abuse, you know? You wouldn’t be lashing out in anger—Jesus, man. You have more control over your emotions than anyone I know. Even if you were pissed as hell when you spanked her, you wouldn’t beat her or be overly harsh. But Syb needs to know that you won’t hesitate to subjugate her if necessary—I know you respect her, but in the bedroom all of the bullshit of modern society ends. You’re the caveman and she’s your woman, and she wants you to deal with her. Believe me, you’ll find release in it and so will she—and if you go too far, she won’t hesitate for a second to use her safe word.” “I get that,” Kellon replied. He didn’t need another lecture on dealing with Syb. “Do you get how much she trusts you?” “Yes.” “Then you need to move before it’s too late. Syb is a desperate, confused sub right now. We screen The Dungeon’s clientele thoroughly, but I’m still concerned she’ll end up in the wrong man’s hands. Not every Dom knows how to handle a free spirit like Syb without crushing her.” Rob removed a paddle, belt and flogger from his side desk drawer. “I’ve booked you into the staff training center. Go get your head on straight then go get her. I don’t expect to see either of you until Monday for any reason.” Without another word, he left the office while Kellon eyed the implements on the desk. He’d become rather familiar with them over the past six months. Rob had prescribed their use as surrogates. They had sensors in them and were used on the mannequins in the professional discipline staff’s training center. The last thing Rob would allow was for a client to be harmed,

so he’d worked with a group of engineers, who were like-minded in BDSM, to develop the instructional dummies. Much like on a shooting range, the staffs’ accuracy was tracked and evaluated. Knowing it would give him time to think, he gripped the soft leather of the belt in one hand and the paddle and flogger in the other. No one paid any mind to him, unless it was to take one look at his determined countenance and retreat from his path. The secretary at the training center glanced up with a smile as he entered. The look didn’t falter as she rose to greet him. “Mr. Marecek,” she said. “Right this way. I have your room ready.” She showed him into a brightly lit, white-walled room. This was one of the places in the club with no cameras—not that he thought anyone would watch him working over the dummy. Still, it comforted him to know he’d have complete privacy for his thoughts. He set the implements on a table near the door as the secretary walked to what was essentially a crash dummy bent over a spanking bench. She flipped a couple switches but didn’t explain what she was doing as she had for the first month he’d come here. He knew there were six phases in the session that began with his first stroke. A buzzer marked the end of each training module. Then after five minutes a green light on the back wall would tell him he could begin again when he was ready, but he could rest as long as he wanted between sequences. There were three rounds with the mannequin bent over the bench and three with it upright so he could use each implement he’d brought in both scenarios. “Okay, I’ll see you in a bit,” she said. “If you need me, I’ll be at the desk.” He nodded then picked up the belt as the door shut. Contemplating his situation, he moved behind the dummy. Though it wasn’t a real person, his muscles bunched. His stomach felt distinctly turbulent, as if he stood on the edge of a precipice looking down into oblivion. But…it wasn’t bad. There was a sort of excitement attached to this when he envisioned it being Syb. Every time he did this, he carefully pictured her bent there for him, submitting to him. At first, he’d felt uncomfortable, but as his confidence in his control had grown, he’d been confronted with a strange sense of power—not that he could hurt someone. That wasn’t the point. It was that he had someone who’d be so focused on his sexual needs that she’d give this to him, and that he had the ability to give her a pleasure she’d otherwise be denied by society. There was so much more to it than those outside the scene could comprehend.

His jaw clenched as he shifted his stance, his concentration focusing on the curved behind in front of him. His arm flexed, and as his heartbeat increased, he drew back then slashed his arm forward delivering a resounding slap of the belt against the faux-ass. A simulated cry echoed through the room, and Kellon smiled darkly. Rob had created full-service dummies with both sensors and sounds. The female voice loosened the tension in Kellon’s neck, letting him breathe. His chest rose and fell harshly as he repeated his action and was rewarded with a similar response. A tingle gripped his balls. He’d be fully aroused before the end of the session. Today was different from other times. Today, he knew he’d have Syb under his hand tonight. Automatically, he settled into the blows, his cock filling with the increasingly desperate wails of the computerized woman. When the buzzer went off, he froze, thoroughly stunned by how far he’d sunk into his “practice”. Spanking was an unbelievable emotional outlet for both Dom and sub, but this round had done nothing to alleviate the needy sensation in his groin. His cock was like a painful spike. He needed relief, but jacking off in the training room was strictly forbidden. The professional discipline staff wasn’t expected to become aroused. The burst of craving and power gushing through him marked the line between a Dom and a job. As a dominant, he needed his submissive, and he needed her now. If she were here, he’d fuck her regardless of the rules. The more he’d brought down the belt, the more he’d wanted it to be Syb in front of him. The more he’d wanted to hear her cries and know he was driving her to the pleasure she wanted, the more he’d understood why this was so important for both of them. The pleasure would take them both to another plane. Yet, he would never lose control as he’d feared for so long. The green light went on, and he moved the table to retrieve the flogger. Carefully, he weighed the instrument in his palm, finding the right grip. He closed his eyes as his whole body vibrated. Sweat coated his skin, but not from exertion. All he could think of was Syb. He returned the flogger to the table without taking a single stroke. Before he could rethink things or convince himself to wait until later, he left the room. Passing the surprised secretary, he headed for Syb’s workshop. They needed to talk, and he needed to hear her cries echoing off the cavernous workshop’s walls as he bent her over the desk. He’d thought of little else since he’d witnessed Peter pushing her down over that surface.

Worked up over the idea, he rushed into the costume shop, only to find it dark with only dim security lighting casting shadows over her domain. “Syb,” he called, dread setting in his gut. The only time she’d ever closed up like this during the day was when she’d snuck away to have rendezvous with him. They’d had a private spot in the backroom where they’d fucked—sometimes daily on his breaks and between her clients. Surely, she wasn’t back there. When she didn’t answer, he stalked through the front room and threw open the door to the back. Utter silence and darkness greeted him. She wasn’t here. Strange. He pulled the small radio from his belt and called up to the reception desk. “Marcy, did Sybil sign out early?” “Yeah, about a half hour ago. And I see that Peter McBride guy walking across the lot. She must not have called him—well, and he’s about two hours early. She probably thought she’d call from home.” “No problem,” Kellon replied. No problem at all, he thought with a dark smile. “I’ll be right up to deal with him.” Kellon had had enough. The games ended now.

Chapter Three

“Peter,” Kellon greeted Sybil’s cohort in deception. Despite his serious tone, he noticed mirth still danced in the other man’s eyes. Peter grinned. “I know you’re the ex. Kellon, right? But we’ve never had the pleasure.” He stuck out his hand. “Peter McBride.” Kellon gave a nod, his expression conveying his knowledge. “Kellon Marecek. Step outside with me?” “All right,” Peter replied affably. His blatant gaze ran over Kellon’s muscular upper body. His eyebrow rose. “You’re not going to pummel me or anything? I have a conference next week, and while a black eye would be an interesting conversation note, it’s not my style.” Kellon shook his head. “Just to talk.” Unless, you don’t cooperate, he amended silently. “Right.” The other man headed outside. Once they were on the covered pavement to the side of the outer doors, he turned to Kellon. “You want to discuss Sybbie?” “Keep away from her.” “No can do, my man.” He ran his hands over his close-fitting pants and the leather vest cut in such a way as to display his bulging pecs. “Who do you think makes my clothes?” “Comic-con Geeks R Us?” “Guess again.” But Kellon didn’t have to do that. Syb’s skills were obvious. “There’s a Target down the road and a Hot Topic at the mall. I’m sure they can hook you up. Stay away from my woman. And yes, before you ask, I know all about you. You might be a Dom, but you’re not her Dom.”

“I had a feeling you’d check up on me. I checked up on you, too. Look, take my advice for what it’s worth. I’ve known her since we were toddlers, and because of that I’ll be around, and I hope I’ll see you in her life. She cares about you like I’ve never seen her care about anyone. Give her what she needs, and never let her go.” **** Pounding on the front door of Syb’s apartment startled her from the malaise she’d fallen into since getting home. Since she wasn’t really ill, she’d decided to do some work, but she’d been sitting at her sewing machine and staring at the fabric instead of actually sewing for the past half hour. This interruption was welcome. Rising, she padded to the door on bare feet. Whoever it was had better not care that she wore worn jeans with holes on one thigh and just below one of her butt cheeks. The other side was threadbare and in danger of ripping soon. She’d pulled a snug T-shirt over her loose breasts, and a couple inches of her stomach were bare, showing off her pierced navel. Away from The Dungeon, it was her time. Since she was home alone for the weekend, she wore the belly button ring Kellon had given her for her birthday last year. She suspected it might be Pete at the door. She’d left him a voicemail but hadn’t heard back from him. He’d promised to come over for pizza and wine and let her pour out her heart again before he left for California in the morning. Without checking, she pulled open the door and immediately bit back a frustrated groan. Not Peter but Kellon. Great. Not only would he likely piss her off some more, but she’d just earned herself a lecture on security and safety. His lips pressed together, and he let out a breath through his nose. “I checked the peephole,” she lied before he could start in on her. Though he had no say in her actions, she hoped to sidetrack the coming diatribe. Sometimes men were so predictable, especially if they were in security or were cops. Judging from his clothes, he’d come straight from work and was probably in full protection mode. “No, you didn’t,” he countered. “Too bad for you. Time to face the consequences.” Swiftly, he scooped her up onto his shoulder and headed down the hallway. Her door swooshed shut, immediately locking. Her eyes closed as she sighed. It would be a pain in the ass to get back inside once she freed herself from this galoot. “Kellon, let me down!” she demanded, smacking his back. “You can’t do this. You have no right—”

“The hell I don’t,” he growled. “This farce is over. You belong with me.” “I do not! We’re not compatible. The contract is broken. I have a new Master—” “Silence!” Syb gasped as Kellon’s hand clapped down on her ass, the smack sending a faint burn through her. She wanted more—on her naked skin. She’d do whatever he wanted if only he’d do it again. “Put me down,” she insisted then bit her lip as she chose her next words. “Peter will—” Another smack on her ass. It resounded through the stairwell as he headed downstairs. So did her groan of pleasure and her excited breathing. There was no way he could miss her reaction. “Peter’s gay,” Kellon replied. “Don’t feed me that line of bull. You had to know I’d check up on him.” “He’s bisexual. I’m not lying,” she protested when he spanked her again, though why she complained she couldn’t really say. He could keep smacking his hand on her ass for the next hour and she wouldn’t be unhappy. Please God, let this be real. Don’t let me be dreaming. If he was willing to take this step, then she was willing to see where things went. Still, it seemed too good to be true. He’d always so strenuously objected… “Kellon, what’s—” And yet another clap of his palm. Deep arousal began to twist in her womb while her cream flowed into her pussy. Before this went further, she had to confess. Obviously, her plan had failed, even if it seemed a successful failure. She wanted him to know the truth, even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “About Peter—” “I know about Peter,” he replied, gifting her with another blow in the same spot. “Sources say he’s gay though you claim he’s bisexual. Did you sleep with him?” “No.” It would be a deal breaker if she had—which she truly hadn’t. Even if Peter had offered, she wouldn’t have been able to go to his bed. He wasn’t what she wanted. “He’s practically my brother.” Kellon didn’t reply, but his hand smoothed up her thigh. His fingertips slipped into the hole in the fabric on her thigh and pushed upward to her ass. The old denim hissed as it ripped around his exploration.

“Yes,” she moaned as his fingernails drew a line down the exposed cheek. What had gotten into him? Whatever it was, she didn’t want him to stop. He caressed and scratched her all the way to his car. She jumped when his thumb dipped down to press her between her buttocks, and that earned her another thump on the rear. “Stop squirming,” he demanded. “I am the one controlling this. Stop trying to direct me. Understand?” “Yes, Sir,” she answered, conceding to his power. Her insides quivered at this turning point. He might never pull her over his knees and spank her, but at least, he was trying. He was fighting for their relationship. She didn’t argue or question him when he put her in the passenger side of his black Lexus. Automatically, she sank back into the seat and fastened the belt. She didn’t ask where they were going. Kellon was in charge. Despite everything, she trusted him. He circled the vehicle and nodded when he saw she’d already secured the restraint. The car purred to life, and soon, they were speeding down the highway, one of Kellon’s hands firmly clamped around her thigh as if he expected her to jump from the car. She knew that wasn’t it. He liked to touch her, and she’d denied him that since she’d broken things off three months ago. “I moved into the new house a couple weeks after closing,” he said after a few minutes. An unexpected spout of pain burst in her chest. They’d picked out the place together. He’d been about to close on it when she’d ended their relationship. It had seemed a travesty to take that step toward happily ever after when she wasn’t happy at all. “How is it?” she asked. “Empty.” Oh God… She wanted to say “I’m sorry” but knew that would be misconstrued. She wasn’t sorry for doing what she believed to be the right thing, even if it hurt them, but she regretted all the pain. “I’ve only set up a few things,” he said, “but everything’s unpacked. One apartment just wasn’t enough to fill up that big old house.” No, they’d been counting on her things going into the Victorian, too. They’d intended to buy anything else together. The bright yellow house with white trim seemed to loom ominously in the distance as they approached down the long, tree-canopied driveway. In the middle of nowhere, Kellon’s

home was surrounded by an enormous yard and bordered by a cornfield to one side, a field to the other and a small burbling brook to rear. In the distance, on the far side of the water, grew an apple orchard. The nearest neighbor, who owned the farmland, was a half-mile away. The landscape and the proximity to other people had been two of the major selling points. They both enjoyed nature, and neither wanted anyone living just across the yard, checking out their alternate lifestyle. Honestly, she’d thought Kellon would stop the purchase when she’d left him. Apparently, he’d still been set on the two-storey house with its finished attic, annexed kitchen and the tower where they’d once planned her sewing room. She’d loved it, too. It was really too big for two people, but they’d wanted lots of kids and space to raise them. Since it had needed restoring in a manner that was true to its era, it’d been on the market for awhile and they’d—well, Kellon— had gotten a steal. She gnawed on her lip as he pulled up to the wide steps leading to the porch. This was supposed to be her home, but now, she felt a bit like an intruder. It would be painful to see what she’d given away. “Kellon, this is a bad idea,” she ventured, unsure she could face what lay beyond the front door. “I don’t think so.” His fingers gently grasped her chin, turning her eyes to him. He dropped a kiss on her mouth. “And I’m in charge. Meet me at the door; I have to get a few things from the trunk.” Sad girl walking, she thought as she trudged up to the door. This was going to be painful—and not in a sexually good way. Before she could dwell on it, Kellon bounded up the steps with a black duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “Wait here,” he said as he unlocked the door, but to her surprise, he didn’t actually enter the house. He just leaned inside and dropped the bag next to the door. Turning to her, he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her back over his shoulder. Shadows surrounded them as he stepped into the entry hall. “You don’t have to lug me,” she protested. “I’d walk—”

His hand smacked onto her rear, silencing her. She couldn’t help her grin, but then he couldn’t see it since she was upside down and facing his back so there was no need to hide her pleasure. “Maybe I wanted to carry you over the threshold,” he replied. That rang with something she didn’t want to explore, not until she felt as if their relationship stood on more solid ground. Without elaborating, he headed through the entry, past the dining room and library, and into the hallway. Moving past the wide stairs, he walked into the parlor they’d intended for a living room. He set her on her feet in front of the fireplace and raised an eyebrow at her. “No smartass remark?” She shook her head as she placed her feet shoulder-width apart and crossed her wrists over her ass just as he required of his submissive. This all confused her, but she’d missed him and wanted him for so long that she would go with whatever he wanted right now. “No, Sir.” “Good.” Locking his arms over his chest, he stepped back and surveyed her. She stood perfectly still for inspection as he walked around her. She knew she looked a bit raggedy, but she hadn’t been expecting to see anyone besides Peter tonight, least of all Kellon. His finger trailed the exposed skin on the back of her thigh, and she lurched. Her fingers curled into fists as she tightened her stance and fought to remain still. If they were going to give this a go today, she’d do her best to obey him. They hadn’t discussed anything, but she knew without the words that Kellon wanted her in his bed tonight. “Jumpy,” he commented. She closed her eyes for a moment and bit back a sigh as he stated the obvious. “No one’s touched me…in awhile.” “Hmm…” His fingers curled upward to skim the underside of her rear where the cheek met leg. “Not even Master Peter?” Her eyes narrowed. He was playing with her and trying to provoke an irritated response. Or maybe… Well, maybe he just wanted proof she was still his. “No,” she replied evenly. “No one since me?” he pushed. She remained silent for a moment. Butterflies slammed around her belly as the intensity of each minute pulled them closer together. She raised her gaze, knowing she had to make a

decision. This was when she walked away once and for all. Or…or she could tell him the truth and walk back into his life, spankings, floggings or not. She met his turbulent eyes as he waited. Could she live without him? “No,” she whispered, crossing the point of no return. “No one since you.” “Good.” His stormy gaze calmed but remained trained on hers, consuming her, claiming her. His hands cupped her shoulders and slid down her upper arms as he leaned to her ear. “This body’s mine. No one touches you but me—unless I say so.” “Yes, Sir,” she murmured as her insides shivered. When they’d been together, she’d loved his possessiveness. His dark tone nearly frightened her. She’d sprint for the door if she didn’t trust him. His fingers tightened, digging into her skin. “On your knees.” Willingly, she complied as he added firm pressure on her arms. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lower lip as she imagined what would come next. She remained upright on her knees, her legs still parted, her hands still submissively behind her. Kellon circled her. She knew it was less for inspection and more to raise her tension. He’d always been good at letting her know who was in charge. Him. To that end, she studied the wood-planked floor and waited for his command. His feet came to rest on the spot where she’d focused, and he slid a hand over the top of her head. Suddenly, his fingers curled, knotting in her hair and tugging her head back. She was forced to look up his body, into his eyes. “You know what to do, slave,” he growled as he stepped closer. “Yes, S-sir,” she stuttered, her limbs weak. Her clit pulsed with need. She wasn’t a slave in the true sense of the word, but his rough words had always made her wet, and he knew it. “Take out my cock,” he commanded. Obeying him, she reached for his black pants and unbuttoned them then drew down the zipper. Deftly, she pulled the trousers and underwear to his thighs, exposing him. His masculine scent called her to take him between her lips, just as he wanted. Immediately, her hands returned to their position behind her back. Unless he said so he wanted her mouth only. She adjusted her stance on her knees and gauged her next movement. He stood just far enough from her that she could easily fall into him—and she knew his positioning was on purpose. He was testing her.

Without a complaint, she leaned forward and opened her mouth on his sac while she held her thigh and stomach muscles rigid to keep her balance. His musky male scent filled her senses as she licked and sucked at his balls. Curling her tongue around one, she drew it inside and pulled until he groaned and his fingers sank into her hair again. Shifting, she released the globe and took the other to give it equal treatment. He shuddered then dragged her back and directed her to his stiff cock. It rose thick and long from his body. Meeting his gaze, she opened her mouth and took the length between her lips. He growled as she closed around his tip. Her tongue swept over the head, collecting salty pre-cum before she sank farther forward. She took him deep then pulled away as he hit the back of her throat. She fought against the urge to gag as she tried to adjust, but Kellon was having nothing of it. His hard gaze holding hers, he pushed forward. His fingers tightened in her hair. There was no escape. Her eyes watered as he reached her limit, and she silently pleaded for him to pull back, but he was having none of that, either. He knew what she wanted and what she needed. Taking him might not be easy, but it always turned her on. She knew her tears would leave dark streaks on her cheeks since she’d left on her makeup after work. She didn’t care and focused on taking all of him without gagging. Her only wish was to show him her devotion, to prove she’d wanted only him even after she’d rejected their relationship. His stare softened slightly as she felt him push farther. “Fuck, Sybil,” he groaned as he set up a slow rhythm that pushed him right to her limit yet allowed her to breathe on each withdrawal. “That’s right. Take my cock. I want to feel you swallow it. Yeah…baby…” Closing her lids, she lost herself in the steady motion while she did her best to suck and lick his length. Her tongue pressed into the underside of the shaft, flicking the glans before he surged back in. He reached down and roughly rubbed her breast through her thin T-shirt, catching and twisting the nipple. “Reach down and open your jeans. Push them down then touch yourself,” he commanded. She moaned around his cock then did as he said. She shoved her pants around her thighs and pushed two fingers into her pussy, circling her clit. Her upper legs trembled as steams of sensation pushed through her. She pinched the nub. Her release loomed just beyond her reach.

She whimpered, knowing she had to obey him but that she was about to come—and that would be disobeying him, too. “In,” he grated. “Push them in. Fuck yourself with them. I want to hear how wet you are.” “Please, Sir,” she begged, trying to tell him how close she was, but her words were garbled. Still, she had no doubt he knew. He was pushing her. Purposely, she bared her teeth and scraped them along his length. He jerked and pulled back at the same time. Cum flooded her tongue, and she opened her eyes to stare up at him again and see the expression of release on his face. She swallowed quickly, not wanting to lose any of it, then flicked her tongue over his length until he was ready to draw back. All too soon, he stepped away. His hand smoothed over her head, petting her. “How close are you?” he asked. He pulled his lip through his teeth then licked the lower one as he watched her. “Close,” she breathed. She adjusted her kneeling position so she was balanced as she thrust her fingers. Tension wound in her belly as her vision narrowed. He refastened his pants as he surveyed her. “Did I say you could come?” Her breath shuddered as she kept her fingers moving and kept her response at bay. “Nno.” “Stop,” he said. “Come up here and give me your fingers.” Catching one of her upper arms, he pulled her to her feet and held her steady until the blood fully returned to her legs. He lifted her hand to his mouth and sucked her flavor from her skin. “Okay?” he asked when she swayed. “Yes, Sir,” she replied with a stoic nod. She fought the urge to cling to him. Her entire being shook with her need, but she had to collect herself and stay in control for him—until he told her otherwise. She stayed still, not even tugging up her pants. “Good.” Turning from her, he went to the fireplace across the room. She stood perfectly motionless while he opened the doors and stacked wood inside. She understood what he expected from her. She’d grown up in a home where D/s was practiced, worked at a BDSM club and had been in a long-term relationship with this Dom. She knew the rules of this life’s decorum. She watched him as he kindled the fire. His thick muscles worked beneath the black polo shirt he’d worn to work, and his corded thighs strained his pants as he squatted. Just looking at

his power made her hungry. She’d been starving for him, and she prayed this was more than a one-time deal and that those swats hadn’t been an anomaly. Her mouth watered as he rose, and she shifted her gaze to the shiny parquet flooring. He stopped before her and lifted her chin with his fingers. “I want you to strip.” “Yes, Sir.” “Then I want you to throw these ratty jeans and T-shirt into the fire.” She blinked, surprised. He grinned when she didn’t reply. “I have some things to do upstairs. Be sure to close the doors after the clothes are inside then march your butt to that corner there,” he pointed, “and wait for me. I want you leaned right into it, and I want your fingers in your pussy. Think of me while you touch yourself. I want you nice and wet.” He kissed her temple then his lips grazed her ear. “But don’t you dare come.” His favorite torture. “Yes, Sir,” she managed around the sand in her throat and reached for the hem of her shirt.

Chapter Four

The fire kept the room toasty, but Syb felt exposed as she stood in the corner, waiting for Kellon to return from upstairs. Her head rested against the juncture while her shoulders and breasts brushed the old brick. Had he known how the tips of her nipples would be abused by the rough surface and how much it would arouse her? Already, she breathed heavily, and she hadn’t done more than stroke her clit with a single fingertip. Thick moisture coated the digit, arousing her even more. What was going on here? That thought was foremost in her mind. Kellon had always been forceful before and after their breakup, but today he seemed even more driven. Slowly, she pushed two fingers into her sopping folds. Her teeth sank into her lip while she drew the digits along her passage and paid close attention to her most sensitive spots, just as Kellon would, just as he’d expect her to do. Her hips pushed forward, causing her chest to contact the wall again. She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut. She was so close to the edge. “You’d better not come.” Startled, Syb jolted and crashed back into Kellon’s chest. She hadn’t even heard him return. His arm slung around her waist, keeping her from falling into the wall and painfully scraping herself on the brick. “Careful there, Sybil.” Grasping her hand, he brought it to his lips and sucked her fingers between his lips. His tongue flicked between her fingers, and her knees wobbled. “Mmm…very nice,” he said, watching her. His palms skimmed down her sides until he grasped her hips. He pulled them against him. “But you were about to come, weren’t you?” Well, crud…

“Yes, Sir,” she admitted. “Hmm…” His hands splayed on her waist and trailed up her body to cup her breasts. Syb moaned as he kneaded the mounds, catching her nipples between his fingers and squeezing. Tendrils of sweet pain zigzagged from the tips to her core. He knew what he was doing; he knew he’d push her closer to the brink of orgasm. With difficulty, she fought to stay still and not writhe against him. He pinched harder, and she jerked with the bolt that went through her. Her pussy and thighs burned with the need that built inside her, while her slit nearly dripped with her moisture. He splayed his hand on her belly then arrowed it to her pussy. Roughly, he thrust two fingers inside her primed channel. She shook, unable to stop the electric pulses exploding through her. Kellon sank his teeth into her shoulder, and she screamed. Her legs buckled, and her vision dimmed. When she returned to herself, her breaths were nearly sobs, and Kellon’s arm was tight around her waist holding her upright. His arm slid away, and she leaned her head back into the corner as he moved away. Behind her, she heard him sit on the couch. “Sybil,” he said simply. “Here.” Turning, she studied him. Her heart thudded so hard in her chest, she was sure he could see it slamming against her breast. His finger crooked, and she went to him. She expected him to pull her into his arms, to hold her and ease her through the aftermath of her release. Instead, he pushed her face-down over his knees. Everything inside her went on high alert. “You disobeyed me,” he growled. Her eyes went wide as his palm smoothed over her ass. “I’m…I’m sorry, Sir,” she gasped. “Hmm… Not good enough, Sybil mine. I think perhaps you deserve a spanking—a long overdue spanking. You’ve become undisciplined, slave, and frankly your recent behavior has been completely disrespectful. A less patient Master might not have been so understanding.” “I’m…sorry, Sir?” she repeated, completely unsure what to say. All her attention was on the large, hard hand rubbing her behind. Spanking her wouldn’t be much of a punishment for her transgressions; she wanted it too badly. “Kellon,” she ventured. “Please…” If he’d just…

Everything inside her tensed with the need for something so close at hand, the promise of a wish fulfilled by a man who’d once promised to never supply it. “Hmm…” he replied, and she bit into her lip. His noncommittal “hmms” always proceeded him pushing her to the edge of her control. Though he’d already done it once, she balanced on the edge, already to plummet again. Her fingers curled into the carpet, and she tried not to contemplate what she looked like splayed over his legs, ass in the air. She tried not to anticipate something that might not happen. The disappointment would be too great. He’d said she deserved a spanking, but that didn’t mean he’d give it. The position put him in complete control, and he’d finger-fucked her like this on other occasions. “You will be spanked,” he informed her, and her breath deserted her as relief weakened her. “You will not come. Understood?” That was the punishment. The spanking itself was a gift. Obviously, he knew exactly what he was doing. “Yes, Sir,” she replied. Excitement laced her words. Finally, finally, she’d feel his firm hand on her ass. She suspected there was no way she’d get out of this victoriously, which was fine. She wanted Kellon to have control over her, but she also suspected she wouldn’t be successful in holding off release. He was setting her up to fail, and they both knew it. Was that her true punishment? Being put in a place where she’d have the inability to follow his command? Was this retribution for the past weeks? “I was only doing what I thought was best. For both of us,” she blurted. Kellon froze. “Whoa, hang on.” He pulled his hand off her ass and helped her up. “Kneel,” he commanded. “We need to talk; you need to listen before we go further.” He didn’t look happy at all. Apparently, she was screwing up left and right. Determined to be obedient, she settled to her knees beside his legs then sat back on her heels, bowed her head and waited. Her fingers twisted together nervously at the small of her back, but otherwise, she remained utterly motionless as she listened for him to speak. Silence thundered around them, and she knew he was letting her think. Kellon rarely rushed where she was concerned. He carefully planned, even when he seemed to make splitsecond decisions.

“I wasn’t pleased by our separation,” he finally said. He took a breath then released it in a harsh huff. “But what’s happening here today is not punishment for that. You will not make reparation for the separation. You were free to make that decision, but know this: I will not allow it again. You will atone for the Peter stunt and for your disrespect, but not right now, and not without your full knowledge that your punishment is for that reason. Understood?” “Yes, Sir,” she replied, beyond relieved. Revenge had no place in a D/s relationship and she’d feared that was where they’d been headed. She had to trust him more, and that onus was on her. He’d earned it. Her lack was her failing. “Should you feel a need for separation, we will discuss it and seek counsel first. Do you agree? As much as I want you in my life, I will not proceed without that guarantee from you. We will not endure this again.” “Yes,” she answered, raising her head. She had to look him in the eye and let him know her commitment. “Yes, Kellon. I agree.” He nodded, and a faint smile curved his lips. “When you walked into this house today, when you obeyed me so readily, that all ended—well…most of it.” “Peter?” she asked, confirming that was what he meant. “Yes, but that is for another time.” He crooked two fingers at her. “Come. Up here.” Quickly, she rose and he pulled her into his arms. His lips closed over hers, sealing their oath. She opened for him when his tongue demanded entry and sighed at the happiness his kiss suffused through her. Belonging to Kellon seemed right. She only hoped they’d be able to slog through the detritus that had mucked up things. Kellon pushed his fingers into her hair and pulled back her head as his kiss grew more aggressive. “I’ve missed you,” he muttered as his lips traveled along her jaw to her neck. He tugged her head farther back as he explored the vulnerable flesh that made her tremble. He licked and nipped his way over her shoulder, turning her as he scraped his teeth over the edge of her shoulder blade. “Today is about mending things between us and making things right.” His hand flattened in the middle of her back. The tips curled into her skin before he pushed her forward and across his knees. Breathing heavily, she waited. Her entire focus centered on his palm where it made circles on her ass.

Do it! Just do it! her mind screamed. She grabbed the carpet again, her whole body tense as she anticipated him lifting his hand, as she throbbed for the blow that would follow. Her jaw clenched, her teeth nearly grinding as he patted her rear. “Please, I need it. Spank me hard and show me your control over me,” she begged then added as an afterthought, “Sir.” “Hmm…” Crap. He wasn’t done making her wait. And that amused sound told her she’d know exactly who was in control before this was over.

Kellon watched Syb mentally squirm as she anticipated being spanked. Sure, she tried to stay absolutely still, but she practically vibrated with her tension—good tension, but tension nonetheless. He vibrated with it, too. It surprised him. His excitement level rose as he watched her firm ass jiggle beneath his hand, the quiet clap of his hand to flesh barely a whisper, as she waited so willingly for him to do what he would. Power burned through him. It wasn’t because he could dominate her or because he had the ability to deliver this pain or because he might even hurt her. No, it was her submission. Her submission gave him power, because she gave it to him when she could give to anyone. She’d chosen him. Him. While he’d still been dominant, taking herself from him had weakened him and stolen some of his control. She was his and he needed her. They needed each other in this symbiotic existence. That was why her stunt with Peter had bothered him as badly as it had. Syb was Kellon’s. It was his responsibility to give her what she needed. Enough was enough! He drew back his hand then brought it down on her ass with a crack that exploded through him like lightning. Syb called out, half-gasp half-wail, but he didn’t pause. She knew her safe word if she wanted him to stop. They needed this. This was his dominance, and her submission. It connected them and fed them. A pink handprint stained her ass, and he aimed for it as he clapped his hand over her behind. After several spanks, he adjusted his target until her whole rear was emblazoned by his mark. Her cries were full of desperate pleasure as her ass turned crimson. And she was wet. It

dampened her thighs and confirmed her arousal. His cock filled, aching with the need to be in her. Her entire body shuddered with her sobs, and he would have stopped if this hadn’t been so right. “Yes…yes…yes…” she gasped, the words nearly unintelligible as her mantra sputtered from her. He knew she didn’t intend him to hear her, and he took it as what it was. Her need. Her encouragement for him to continue. She probably didn’t realize the relief escaped her lips. “Please, Sir,” she suddenly begged. “Please…I’m going to come. I can’t…I can’t…” “Let go!” he commanded. He’d barely spoken when her scream filled the living room, and her body went rigid over his lap. He kept spanking her through it, driving her to completion and only stopping as she started to come down. Her breathing shuddered from her in broken gasps as he pulled her upright. She winced as her bruised flesh met his pant legs. Tears ran in black streaks down her mottled cheeks, and he ran his thumb over the trails while she sniffled. “It was good,” she whispered as she snuggled into his chest. He cupped the back of her head to hold her there. His other hand rubbed circles on her back. Soothing, connecting, holding… It was good. He knew someone looking in from the outside would never understand how something that left her a trembling, crying mess could be good, but it was no one else’s business. This was them—his power, her submission—and it was only for the two of them to understand.

Chapter Five

“Let’s go upstairs,” Kellon said after a few minutes, once she’d settled down. Syb tried not to wince as he helped her to her feet. She’d have a reminder of this scene every time she moved for the next few hours. She couldn’t be happier. Some people would call her a masochist, but they couldn’t understand the absolute relaxation that came after a spanking like she’d just gotten, not unless they’d experienced the same complete pleasure. She still felt floaty and spaced-out in the aftermath. As Kellon laced his fingers through hers and guided her to the stairs, her head started to clear. She had questions—a million of them—but it still wasn’t time. At the landing of the wide stairway, he paused and pulled her to him. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the closeness. God, how she’d missed him. Gently, he drew a crooked finger along her cheek. “I must look a mess,” she remarked, knowing she had streaks on her face. “A little… I kinda like it. They’re for me,” he said. “It’s strange. I’ve never wanted to make you cry. And now…” He shook his head, but he didn’t have to explain his thoughts to her. She understood. Though he’d demonstrated a surprising proficiency in reddening her ass, she understood that the scene had probably conflicted him. He didn’t say it, she’d bet power flowed through him—power and pride that she willingly submitted to his hand and his commands. Pride that he’d given her such pleasure. That flew in direct opposition to the code by which he’d lived most of his teenage years and adult life. Silently, they went upstairs, each lost in their own thoughts, yet Syb was utterly aware of Kellon and suspected he was aware of her—he always was. It went a long way to make her feel

protected and secure. She was her own person, but he was a strong presence, always there in the background, moving when she moved, flowing when she ebbed. At the top of the stairs, she looked around and frowned, her heart a little sad. While he was always there in her life, she couldn’t help but feel the void of her presence here. They should have decorated together, but here, like the rest of the house, there was a distinct air of emptiness. It was a space he occupied, and nothing more. If they worked out things between themselves, they could make this into the home they’d intended it to be, but she wondered how long it would take for him to trust her enough for that. She’d broken his faith; it couldn’t be instantly repaired. Hiding her feelings, she let him steer her into the master bedroom. This space held more of him and looked much like his bedroom from the apartment. A red and black geometric spread covered his heavy, dark-wood bed and matching furniture had been set around the room. Aside from a few personal care items atop the tall chest of drawers, the dresser surfaces were bare. Twin twisted-metal lamps sat on the bedside tables, a small framed picture beside one base. She knew the photo. It was one of her and Kellon, taken at her parents’ house last year. She’d been on his lap, laughing as he’d smiled and tickled her, adoration in his eyes. Things had gotten so messed up after that. At that time, she’d thought living with the lack of spanking in their relationship would be okay, but more and more, she’d ache whenever she’d watched the public disciplining of other subs. The tenderness in her ass now promised that maybe her need was over. Maybe… “Kellon?” she asked, dropping Sir or Master for the moment. She needed to talk to him without the trappings of their D/s life hugged around them but rather as just a man and a woman who cared about each other. “Yes?” “Are you sure? I mean…I don’t want you to feel forced…I…” She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts into coherent order. “If you’re uncomfortable with spanking me, that would be just as bad as me needing it and you refusing.” “Nothing makes you happy,” he teased. “No, really,” she insisted. “Reversing who’s not happy isn’t any better. The result will still be the same. We’ll both be miserable.” “Sybil,” he replied, his tone serious now. He eased her down on the bed and covered her with his body. Her legs bent on either side of his hips as he settled his groin against her apex. “I

have no desire to abuse you. There’s no way in hell, I’ll touch you when I’m angry—not like that. But…I think I’m okay with this new addition to our relationship. Really. I like my mark on you. That night…when you broke up with me…” He sighed and she wanted to stop him. She didn’t want to relieve that. He bit her shoulder, and she groaned, never doubting she’d have teeth marks there, too. His hips tilted into hers. “That night, I had a flogger waiting in the bedroom—” “No!” she exclaimed, fresh tears burning her eyes. “I’d been training in the staff center. I knew you really wanted that. It was a gift for our anniversary. I almost grabbed you and dragged you in there. But I was too angry. You wouldn’t listen. You got on a tear and just steamrolled. I was furious.” “I’m sorry.” “Then you were gone, and it was too late. Even if I’d told you when I’d planned, you wouldn’t have believed me.” He captured her areola between his teeth and scraped them to tip. “You’re so impetuous and strong-willed.” “Why do you want me?” she asked with genuine self-depreciation. “Because, you’re mine, Sybil mine. Because I like disciplining you, and I’m discovering I like to make you scream as I mark you.” Her pussy ground against the ridge in his pants, and her bruised ass throbbed as the flesh rubbed the bedding. “I like your mark on me, too, Sir.” She wanted him to lose the clothes. It had been way too long since he’d fucked her, but the timing was in his hands. “I think you need to be cuffed,” he said suddenly, and before she could react, he straddled her torso. Her arms were pressed above her head. She didn’t fight as he looped leather restraints around both her wrists, and only when they were fastened did she pull at her arms to test her movement. Short chains kept them secured to the headboard far enough apart that she couldn’t unfasten the buckles on her own. A bolt of excitement raced through her. He had her at his mercy, right where she most liked to be. Her body was truly his tonight, and they both knew it. “Spread your legs. I have a surprise for you,” he commanded, a hard look on his face. He didn’t wait to see if she complied before climbing off the bed and heading for his closet. Craning her head, she watched him. What was he doing? She wanted to have sex. Now. It’s not about what you want, she reminded herself. It’s about pleasing Kellon.

But when he returned from the walk-in, carrying the bag he’d brought home with him earlier, he looked rather displeased. His pointed glare at her legs told her why. She’d been so caught up in watching him and being curious that she hadn’t followed his command. Quickly, she parted her thighs. “Too little too late,” he chided. “And for that, another punishment.” “Yes, Sir,” she replied, wondering what he had in store for her now. Though her ass ached, another spanking would be okay. She’d been so long without that she’d happily gorge on that attention. “I think your ankles need to be bound for this.” Bound for what? If he was binding her face-up, then he didn’t intend more attention to her ass. To her surprise, he didn’t reach for her feet. He set the bag on the bed and unzipped it. “I’ve been planning this for awhile. This afternoon, I had Rob and his friend, Ethan, help me pick out a few things you should find interesting. Apparently, Ethan’s wife Natalia is really into spanking, too. He suggested I try out something she really likes.” He pulled a thick, dark-skinned dildo from the bag and smeared some lube on it while he talked. She eyed it, knowing the thing would spread her wide. She’d be so full when it was pushed deep. Her pussy throbbed with need. They’d played enough. She needed to be fucked. But she wouldn’t be doing either of them favors if she commanded him to take her. In fact, she knew him well enough to know he’d make her wait extra long if she tried to dominate him. Once before, he’d straddled her and made her watch while he’d stroked himself to release. The burning cum on her flesh had almost brought on her own release and undermined him. He’d left her bound and needing all night. “This isn’t the thing Ethan suggested,” Kellon clarified as he twisted the base to set it to buzzing. “But I’ll get you so worked up, I think you’ll appreciate something in your cunt.” Holding her gaze, he pushed the vibrator against her pussy, spreading her outer lips then drawing the curved tip back and forth over her clit. “Besides, I want you nice and open for what I have planned—and for me.” Her brows drew together. He was large, but she’d never had trouble taking him. She shuddered as he tapped the end to her sensitive nub. Sensation cut through her, strands of pleasure sizzling into her womb. She let her eyes close as she sank into the sensations.

“Uh-uh. Open up, Sybil mine. I want you to watch me.” Reluctantly, she tugged open her lids and focused on him. He shoved the thick dildo into her grasping passage. “Oh!” she cried out at the shocking intrusion. Her body struggled to accept the length, but he didn’t wait for her as he moved it in shallow jerks. Ragged gasps sputtered from her. She dug her heels into the mattress and lifted into the thrusts. “Lie still,” he ordered. “Master, please,” she begged, but he splayed his free hand on her belly and pushed her onto the surface. “Stay. Still,” he grated. He left the device buzzing inside her and returned to the end of the bed. Reaching beneath the mattress, he pulled out leather shackles. He pulled one of her legs to him and wrapped the restraint around one of her ankles. To her surprise, he grabbed the remaining ankle and shackled it far enough from the first that her legs were spread eagle and her body was stretched across the bed with little give for her movement. At his mercy, she thought again. An eruption of nerves fluttered in her stomach. He could do anything to her, and she wouldn’t be able to escape it. Even his smile scared her a little as he watched her. He fucked her with the dildo a few more times before leaving it lodged deep inside her. “Nervous?” he asked as he walked around to his bag once more. “A little,” she admitted. “Good.” He pulled a ball gag and a red cloth from the bag and set them on the comforter. Finally, he removed a flat silver case from the duffle. He knocked the empty bag to the floor and placed the metal-walled container on the bed. Her eyes went wide when she realized it was a smallish briefcase. He unlatched it, and— “No,” she cried at the sight of the device and glass tubes inside it. “Sybil,” he chastised. “You know I’d never harm you. You do know that?” he prompted when she didn’t answer. Grasping her chin, he turned her to look at him. “You do know that?” “That’s a violet wand.” He shook her. “Do you trust me?” “Yes, Sir.” “And you know I won’t harm you.”

She blinked. Well… “Y-y-yes, Sir,” she stammered when he scowled. Knowing he wouldn’t harm her didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell. She’d heard about violet wands, but hadn’t experienced one. She’d seen subs scream when they were touched by one of these things. It was electricity for fuck’s sake! He’d been planning this? “Please, no,” she begged. “Perhaps you need to think on this a bit,” he said, and she decided he’d turned evil in her absence. And it was her fault. “Kellon, I—” Her words were cut off as he pressed the gag into her mouth. Agilely, he fastened it behind her head before she could push it free. She screamed in frustration, not caring what punishment it would bring. Angrily, she yanked at the restraints holding her hands. Ignoring her fit, he patted her leg. “Good girl. I’ll be back in a minute.” He bumped up the speed on the vibrator then walked from the room. **** The violet wand was just what the doctor ordered, Kellon thought as he ran a washcloth beneath warm water. Syb had been too complacent ever since he’d spanked her—well, ever since he’d forced her into the car, actually. He wanted a little fight from her. That would probably come back on a regular basis once they were on sure footing again. Sybil loved to be naughty and just a little disobedient to get his goat. In fact, she spent more time in the corner than any sub he knew. And she liked it. Since they weren’t a 24/7 couple, he’d indulged her while making it out to be his idea that she be punished. As a Dom, he was careful to always maintain the upper hand—something that could be a challenge with a strong-willed sub like Syb. She’d never bore him; that was for sure. He stared in the mirror, contemplating the next minutes. Syb was pissed, and he hadn’t given her the chance to scream her safe word. It was for her own good. They’d have to negotiate here since this was something they’d never discussed, and he wasn’t letting her reject this adventure out of hand. After wringing out the washcloth, he headed back to the bedroom. Sybil was moaning, her hips rocking as much as they could with her restraints. Her eyes were closed. Apparently,

she’d decided to go for an orgasm rather than contemplate the wand. He didn’t announce himself before he put the rag on her cheek and rubbed away the smeared makeup. “You’re not about to come, are you?” Her eyes opened, and she stared angrily up at him. She verbalized something behind the gag that sounded a whole lot like she’d be swearing at him or calling him a profane name if she could speak clearly. “I love you too, Sybil mine,” he said. She blinked up at him, apparently stunned by his announcement. “You didn’t know that?” he asked, putting aside the rag. “Keep that in mind as we proceed. Now, I’m going to put this red cloth in your hand. If the scene gets to be too much, toss it away—don’t you dare do it before we start, or your punishment won’t be anything you’ll like. Nod if you understand.” He watched her throat move as she swallowed then she jerked her head once in assent. Satisfied that she was with him, he closed her fingers around the square of red silk then prepped the wand while she watched. The case held six attachments. From them, he selected the rakeshaped tube that would send streaks of sensation along her skin. She whimpered as he turned it on and the inside of the glass tubing began to glow purple.

He was going to electrocute her and she was supposed to be okay with it? Nu-uh. She wasn’t. Even as strange tension twisted in her belly, she pulled at the wrist cuffs and tried to get at least one hand free. “Be still,” Kellon commanded. His tone caught her attention and brooked no argument. Holding the wand in one hand, he turned down the intensity of the vibe that still drove her crazy and held her near the edge of release. Wide-eyed, she stared up at the device in his hand. “We’ll start with your leg,” he announced. Desperately, she shook her head, begging him not to do this. Ignoring her, he brought the glass rake to the inside of her thigh. She tensed, expecting pain. It never came. Instead, lines of mild sensation danced against her skin. Her eyes shot to Kellon’s face. His brow rose as he smirked. Bastard. He’d known how this would feel. There was no pain. In fact, as he drew the wand toward her knee, it seemed as if

fingers of bubbles were popping against her flesh. It almost tickled. This wasn’t what she’d heard about this device. Out of sorts, she raised a finger, flipping him off. “You really want to go there with me, Sybil mine?” Yes, she really did. “Consequences,” he reminded. Sighing through her nose, she curled the fingers of that hand into a loose fist. Nothing good would come from mouthiness—even the non-verbal sort. He repeated his movement down her other leg then over the soles of both feet. Her toes curled, and she jerked at the gentle sensation, but the shackles afforded her no movement. She moaned at the torture and tried to bend her foot from it. Chuckling, he brought it over the ball of the foot to spark behind her toes. “Stay still,” he warned. Impossible! she silently protested. Her pussy convulsed around the vibe as she tensed again, and she groaned at the increased sensation. She was shaking, her awareness muzzy, when he started a path back up her legs. Avoiding her sex, he stroked the wand along her hip and belly. “Perhaps more intensity,” he suggested. When the wand next touched her, she gasped. The electricity seemed to spark over her like a fall of pinpricks, sharp but not quite painful. Perfect. She arched into, fighting her restraints as he stroked the rake-like tubing over her taut nipples. The energy zinged into her breasts and tugged at the tension already twisting in her core. Her moans merged with one another as she sank into the pleasure. Why had she doubted him? Aside from a single sticking point, hadn’t he always known what was best for her? A flood of moisture slicked the vibe, pushing it from her as she reacted to the arousing strands of heat sizzling through her. Her blood seemed afire with her need. It made here feel a little selfish that she just wanted more…and more…and more! Of course, Kellon liked providing, so she didn’t feel too bad. Still, when the fuzzy, electrical sensation suddenly departed, she grumbled behind the gag. Through slitted eyes, she watched him change the attachment on the device, slipping in a tube that looked a bit like a glass dildo.

Her breathing increased as she imagined what he’d do with it. Whatever he did, she wouldn’t fight it; she’d show him what a good sub she could be. There’d been too much rebellion lately, and it shamed her. Everything in her wanted to please him. He touched the tip to the peak of her areola, and against her will, she jumped at the increased intensity of the energy coursing down the shaft. Her muffled screech echoed in her head, and her eyes rolled back as she drew her shoulders together and pushed her chest into it. The jolt had intensified, but the pain wasn’t more than she could bear—it wasn’t more than she wanted to bear. Her breathing grew choppy as he ran the wand over her, paying special attention to her most sensitive places. Her nipples were rigid peaks as he circled them, but he didn’t linger long. He touched the hollow of her neck, causing her to shake. When he moved to the insides of her elbows, she yelled behind the gag, fighting her restraints as her body went wild. Her pussy clenched against the emptiness, needing to be filled. He adjusted the intensity again as he zapped the inside of her wrists, the sensation like being snapped by a rubber band at close range, normally a sensation she wouldn’t like, but he’d pushed her so far that each touch had her moaning mindlessly. Her response grew delirious and urgent as he worked his way to her cunt. Reaching down he unfastened her shackles with his free hand then he unfastened and yanked off the gag. “Let me hear you,” he demanded. The wand touched her clit and she screamed, planting her feet on the mattress and jerking her feet into it. “That’s right, baby. You like that, don’t you?” He tapped the sensitive nub. “You were so naughty, but look what you got.” “Yes, Master,” she cried, not sure it was the right response but not caring about anything but getting more. “More?” “Yes!” Colors flew before her eyes, and she tossed her head back and forth as the tip of the wand breeched her opening. Electricity leapt through her. “Kellon,” she yelled, as she lost all control. Her hips thrust upward, her cream trickling toward her buttocks.

She gasped, wanting more, wanting him to stop, needing more, mindless for relief. When he grasped her hips and drove inside her, she cried out from the complete joy of his length spreading the walls of her convulsing passage. She squeezed him, loving his groan at the feel of her. She opened her eyes and stared up at him as he wrestled off his shirt, his hips never ceasing their pistoning rhythm. At any other time she might have been amused that he’d barely done more than open his pants in his haste to be in her. Now, she was too consumed with the feel of him finally fucking her. He dragged one of her legs over his shoulder, lifting and spreading her. He smacked her exposed ass. Shock waves exploded through her, and she clenched around his long cock. A pleased, feral sound rolled up his throat, and he struck the spot again, pulling another moan from her. Her cries echoed through the room, and the sound of their sex turned her on even more as his hips connected with hers in frenzied slaps. “Sybil, come,” he demanded. Bending forward, he thrust his hand into her hair and covered her mouth with his. His tongue thrust inside, his wild kiss claiming her and capturing her wail as her orgasm whirled through her, destroying every vestige of restraint anchoring her to reality. She was soaring, flying, free. Her only knowledge was sweet pleasure ringing through her and Kellon’s hard form covering her, filling her. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight as he buried his face in her neck. Both their bodies heaved as they tried to breathe. There was nowhere else she wanted to be for the rest of her life. Being in Kellon’s embrace would last her forever.

Chapter Six

When they calmed, regaining themselves, neither spoke. Kellon held her tightly until she started to drift off. Emotional fatigue twined with deep relaxation to weigh her down with exhaustion. As her eyes closed and she floated in the space between awake and slumber, she was vaguely aware of Kellon releasing her arms. Automatically, she drew them into herself, but he gently pulled at them one at a time. His hands massaged her body as she lost the battle with consciousness and let darkness take her. Hours later, panic filled her as she woke with arms around her and a solid, rock-hard body pressed to her back. “Shh,” Kellon murmured, kissing her neck. She immediately relaxed, partway afraid it was a dream, that all of it had been, and mostly not caring as long as she was here with him. His large hand was splayed on her abdomen and it slipped upward to cup her breast. His long fingers rolled her nipple as she sank into him with a quiet groan. He brushed aside her hair and tenderly kissed the back of her neck. Reaching back, she cupped the back of his head as he breathed her in. They sighed together as he slipped into her. Slowly, ever so slowly, they gyrated together, neither speaking as if words might break the spell woven between them. He seemed to touch her everywhere though his hands moved even more slowly than their hips. She shuddered as he pushed his finger into her pussy, rubbing her clit as he stroked in and out. He knew her body so well. He never stopped circling and tapping until she was jerking, out of control. “I missed you so much,” he murmured in her ear. “Kellon,” she breathed. “Yes. Only me.” He bent her leg toward her chest, and his cock scraped across her g-spot.

Stars danced before her eyes as he thrust, and her fingers dug into his arm. Quiet, breathy moans spilled from her lips. His hips moved faster as the frenzy took them. Turning them, he moved her to her belly then yanked her to her hands and knee. His hand buried in the hair at the back of her neck as he sawed in and out of her. “You’re mine, Sybil. Only mine.” “Yes,” she exclaimed, canting her hips toward him. Release after release piled inside her until finally his fingers clenched in her hair, dragging back her head, and his hand locked on her hip. His cum spewed into her cunt. “Yes, Kellon. Yes!” she cried. He pressed his face between her shoulder blades as he pulled free of her. Slowly, he rained kisses down her spine until he got to her ass. It was still a bit sore from earlier, but that didn’t stop the pleasure when he nipped at the bruised flesh. Playfully, he pulled her to him and they curled up on the pillows. “Make waffles for me in the morning?” he asked. Laughing, she looked over her shoulder at him, squinting to see his face in the darkness. “What?” “I’ve missed your waffles. I’ve had to eat the frozen ones you put in the toaster.” “I thought you missed me,” she teased. Kellon pushed her onto her back and crawled over her. Her legs went naturally to either side of his hips, cradling him in the curve of her body though there was no hope of anther round of sex…for a few minutes anyway. He brushed the hair from her face. “If I never had waffles again, I’d be okay as long as I had you. You’re all I want, Sybil.” “Even after I left you?” He nodded, his thumb caressing her chin as he looked into her eyes. “Don’t do it again.” She shook her head, a little stunned that this was it. He gently pulled apart her lips as he kissed her. His tongue leisurely took her mouth, tasting, stroking, reclaiming as she stirred beneath him. Her need for him was an undying ember, flaring to life at the slightest provocation. “So will you?” he asked against her lips. “What?” she whispered, dazed. “Make waffles?” “Move in like we’d planned.”

Had he asked that? Surely she couldn’t have missed that. “Are you sure? I mean…I…hurt you.” “You hurt you, too. Which is unacceptable, by the way, and will result in punishment in the future.” “Yes, Sir,” she murmured. “And, yes, I’m sure. You never stopped being mine. I want you with me. Always. I want to eat waffles with you in the morning. I want to wake up in the middle of the night and have you in my arms. I want to fuck you in every room of this massive house—” “Not in the basement. It’s creepy and I think they’re spiders.” “Everywhere but the basement,” he agreed. “Even the porch. I want you to ride me while we swing. In broad daylight.” She bit her lip, thinking about it and nodded. She liked the idea. “You know what I’ve missed even more than your waffles?” “I can’t imagine. You made a point of seeing me every day. You’d make a good stalker.” “Smart mouth.” He kissed her hard. “I missed hearing your damn sewing machine every damn day. You always had some urgent project going.” “It drives most people nuts.” “Not me. See? Meant to be. Your machine soothes the growly beast.” She made a face, telling him she didn’t believe it. He traced her collarbone, his gaze focused on his finger. “You never answered.” “If you have the stuff, I’ll make waffles.” “And move in.” She grinned, sunlight filling her despite the dark room. “Yes, Sir.” **** When she walked into work on Monday, Syb was pretty sure everyone in the club knew what she’d been doing all weekend. All weekend. Kellon had made good on his need to christen every room of the house. Her entire body, including her ass, was sore from the overuse. As far as she was concerned, that was absolutely perfect. She glanced sideways. If her huge grin didn’t give her away, the man looming at her side did. He looked almost…cheerful. He wouldn’t intimidate anyone today.

“Syb,” Marcy called out as they walked past the desk. “Rob wants to see you upstairs in the theatre. You too, Kellon.” “I have an appointment in fifteen—” “He said you were to go up immediately, no matter what,” Marcy interrupted. Kellon took Syb’s hand. “Come along, Sybil mine. Let’s get this over with.” “Get what over with?” she asked, digging in her heels. The mirth glinting in his eyes annoyed her. “You know what this is about, don’t you? It was him you were on the phone with earlier.” “Sybil, now,” he grated, his tone calling her back in line. “He wants us upstairs, and you will comply.” “But the theatre…” “Sybil,” he warned. “Sorry, Sir,” she muttered, allowing him to lead her to the elevators. The theatre was used for exhibition play. That wasn’t really her thing. Sneaking sex in the open where she might get caught was one thing, but knowing she’d be naked in front of a group was another. Sometimes, group scenes turned into full-on orgies. He paused outside the side doors that led to the backstage area. Taking her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “Remember that you belong to me.” “Yes, Sir.” That didn’t come close to easing her mind. Was there a chance that might be an issue? That someone else might try something with her? That he planned to let someone else have her but wanted her to know he was still taking her home. That was not okay at all. She was into kink, but not swinging and sharing. No one else touched Kellon’s cock and no one else touched her, either. The door opened to reveal Rob, stern-faced, with two of Kellon’s security personnel behind him. “Sybil Anderson,” he announced, “you are being taken into custody for your unacceptable actions toward your Dom and breaking the rules of this club in regard to befitting behavior. You will be judged by a panel of your peers and submit to punishment as we see fit.” Butterflies took off inside her. She didn’t want someone else deciding her fate. That was only up to Kellon. Before she could stop this, the guards stepped forward and grasped her arms. She soon had chains secured around her wrists.

“No, let me,” Kellon interjected when one produced a blindfold. Taking the cloth, he stepped before her. “Don’t let them do this,” Syb begged. “You own me.” Holding her gaze, he lifted the black silk. And that’s your answer, she thought as he fastened it in place, his face her last sight before the world went black and she was roughly yanked away from him. She stumbled along with her captors, damning the fact she’d worn the five-inch pumps today. But then… These shoes had been Kellon’s idea, as had all her clothes today. She’d emerged from the shower this morning to find him on the phone, all the garments he’d picked for her placed on the bed beside him—a black and white halter and a micro-skirt that zipped up the side and barely covered her. No panties. No bra of any sort. She’d stood for inspection as he’d circled her, running his fingers over her body. She’d shivered as he circled the bruise from a bite on her upper breast. He never bit hard enough to break the skin, but she liked how he marked her. His. You’re Kellon’s, she thought reassuring herself as her heels clicked on the stage’s wood flooring. It doesn’t matter what anyone says. He won’t let anyone touch you. No one will hurt you. Hadn’t he proved that even when they’d been parted? Even when she’d claimed to have a new Dom, he’d exerted his possession. Now that she had recommitted to him, not even their boss could step in to let anyone else touch her though she’d seen it happen. Sometimes, subs were subjected to punishments for their public transgressions, and their Dom’s let others do the whipping. It seemed harsh, but she knew the people in question and understood that was their thing. It wasn’t Kellon’s or hers. Trust Kellon, she thought, trying to calm her apprehensions. Soft fabric brushed her body as she was brought to a small dais in the center. She’d seen this enough times to know what was happening even without her vision. She stood on an octagon platform, sheer, white chiffon drapes surrounding her. The stage’s heavy green velvet curtain blocked her from view. For now.

“Ladies. Gentlemen,” Rob announced out front. “You’ve been called here for the trial of Sybil Anderson. You’ve heard the charges—” “I’d like to hear the charges,” she muttered. “—and the testimony presented by me, Peter McBride via video conferencing and Kellon her Dom via phone.” Kellon had taken an active part in this? Outrage vibrated through her until she remembered he’d promised delayed reparation for Peter and her treatment of her real Dom. It had never come up this weekend, and she’d thought she’d dodged that bullet. And Peter. Just see if she’d ever make him another costume or repair one he’d damaged in a display of virility. She heard the heavy main curtain pull back, leaving her shrouded only by chiffon. “Sybil,” Rob said. “What say you to these accusations?” “I haven’t heard them,” she snapped. A low murmuring rumble rolled through the audience gathered. “I think that says it all,” he replied. His voice raised a note. “I call for the vote. How find you, friends?” “Guilty,” they cried. “Guilty!” Had she expected anything else, she wondered as the calls continued. She’d never witnessed anyone found innocent. Club members and staff liked a show. She heard the chiffon drapes she’d felt earlier move. The metal rings that held them rang along the rods, telling her she was being fully revealed to anyone who gathered. Someone attached a chain to those around her wrists, and her arms were dragged upward to suspend over her head. She jerked as foreign hands grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs apart. Her skirt hiked up, exposing her as she was shackled to the floor by cuffs on short chains. “Everyone,” Rob went on. “Over the past months, we’ve had some discord here at The Dungeon. Our Syb has put her Dom, Sir Kellon, through hell. She refused her submission and devotion. She even pretended to take another Master. Through this all, Sir Kellon remained steadfast to regain his sub. But…” And where was Saint Kellon now when she was in trouble? Oh right, he was part of this. She kept her face impassive. It wasn’t as if the things Rob said were untrue.

“But,” Rob repeated, “as Lord of this dungeon, I cannot let such disobedience go unpunished.” Syb rather thought calling the breakup “disobedience” was going a bit far, but she didn’t argue. She didn’t make a sound, just waited. If this was what Kellon wanted then she’d submit to it. She needed to regain his full trust in her loyalty. “As punishment, Sybil, you will be disciplined. You may choose…a belt, paddle or flogger. You will receive twenty-four strokes, representing each hour of the day you forced Sir Kellon to be without you. Afterward, you will publically submit to your Dom.” Her breathing increased, even as her damn pussy got wet. Twenty-four? That was a lot. Even more, Kellon was going to make her come—or not, if that was his choice—in front of everyone here. And damn it, she didn’t know who they were. “So what will it be? Belt, paddle or flogger?” Rob asked. Her ass twitched at the idea of any of them, and tension began its slow burn in her belly. Any of the three would be fine, but here was one step toward showing Kellon her commitment to him. “It is for Sir Kellon to decide,” she replied, using his formal scene name. “I am his so he should choose.” “The birch paddle,” Kellon said firmly, speaking from somewhere behind her for the first time since they’d entered. She trembled. The birch would hurt like hell; her ass wasn’t accustomed to more than his hand right now. She guessed that was part of his plan. “Very good.” Rob seemed far too cheerful to her, and she heard him move away. “You may begin at your ready.” Applause and cheers followed the pronouncement, and Syb rolled her eyes beneath the blindfold. Only at The Dungeon. Almost immediately, Kellon stepped close, his body brushing her back. “Are you okay?” “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. His concern resonated deep inside her. He was concerned for her well-being, but she heard his unspoken question. He worried that this would be too much for her. Their reunion was still fresh. Her big, strong Dom was afraid she’d leave again though he’d never say it aloud. She turned her head toward him, needing to reassure him. “I love you, Kellon. I accept this as my due. Then we can be finished with this once and for all.” Cupping her head, he angled her for his hard kiss. “Thank you.”

As she faced completely forward once more, he reached for the closure of her top. Her entire focus trained on him. The audience she couldn’t see faded, and it was only her and Kellon and their love for one another. The top skimmed her body as he let it fall, exposing her breasts and already tight nipples. Fingers ran lightly over the tips while she moaned. Suddenly, he tugged the peaks, clamping a bar onto one, and her knees buckled. Quickly, she stiffened them to keep from showing how aroused she was. She couldn’t help her small cry when the other bar was screwed into place, sending fire through her breasts. The sweet ache roared through her, reminding her he owned her. Her clit throbbed in time with the sensations radiating for her nipples, and she felt her cream coating her pussy. “Are you wet?” he asked her. “Yes, Sir,” she breathed. “Because of the others?” he asked, reminding her they weren’t alone as he unzipped her skirt. The leather and metal garment fell heavily to the floor, leaving her naked to everyone’s gaze. “Or because of the idea of getting paddled.” “Because of you, Sir,” she replied. “Thank you,” he said again. His kiss to her shoulder was far from punishment, but she suspected he was merely softening her resistance for what was coming. Tension would only make the blows worse. But nothing could free her from her worry over the coming discipline. She heard him walk away, but in moments, he returned. “You will count the blows. You will say ‘One o’clock, Sir. I’m sorry’. Just like that,” he instructed, any trace of his gentler nature gone now that the paddle was in his hand. He smoothed it over her ass, tapping slightly along the surface of her skin from the crease where her ass met her thigh and to the upper swell just below her lower back. She held her breath, anticipating the first strike. He was torturing her, making her wait. “You have permission to come whenever you’d like today,” he announced. “Thank you, Sir,” she replied. Syb doubted that would happen. It was one thing to be spanked. A paddling was quite different. Because of his delay, the first blow, when it came, was a shock. She gasped a choked cry. “One o’clock, Sir. I’m sorry.”

Her teeth bit into her lip. She would not scream though the stinging pain shocked through her buttocks. Only now that she was saying her contrition did she realize that her apologies would give her ass time to recover slightly between each hit of the paddle, making them worse. “Two o’clock, Sir. I’m sorry,” she called on the next swat. Oh, was she. The smooth birch wood seemed to bite into her ass. She struggled to control herself, but as they reached ten, the sting still wasn’t morphing to something better, and her words were coming out as sobs. Tears seeped below the blindfold that had ridden up during the punishment. She could see beneath as her head bent forward. Dark lines of tears ran from her cheeks to her chest. “Noon, Sir. I’m sorry,” she gasped, trying to keep from losing count as she studied her nipples trapped in the clamps. So pretty… Her mind started to wander, and she realized the pain wasn’t as great on her ass. Her pussy was getting hot. So hot. Her body swayed forward with the next swing of the paddle. The flame seemed to lick at her entire center. The tension in her womb twisted so tight she could barely breathe. Goose bumps from the heat rose on her thighs, but it was her clit that throbbed with an unrelenting beat that stabbed through her will to be strong. Her lips moved, but she wasn’t sure if her words were audible. Her fingers curled. She wouldn’t come, not from the sting of the paddle, not from the pleasure it pounded through her. Four, five, six… Her head swam, her wails echoing through the auditorium. Kellon didn’t relent. His strikes remained even and measured. The paddle hit the sweet spot at the base of her ass, and her legs buckled. She swayed, hanging from the chain around her arms. Immediately, his arm came around her belly. He supported her as she bent over it. “Ten,” he murmured, prompting her as she wallowed. “Ten o’clock…Sir…I’m…sorry…” “Two more, Sybil mine. You’ve come this far. Hold it off.” She drew in a choked breath and nodded. “Yes, Sir.” She sobbed through the next two strokes, “Midnight, Sir. I’m sorry,” barely intelligible. The paddle clattered to the ground, and Kellon moved close behind her. She groaned as his work pants abraded her flaming, bruised rear. She wouldn’t sit easily for days.

“Well done,” he said, his hand on her hip holding her to him. He slowly gyrated, sending more pleasure/pain through her. “I’ll bet if I touched you, you’d be sopping.” “Yes, Sir,” she answered, sniffling. Quiet sobs rocked her body as he held her, giving her his strength and whispering his pride in her behavior this morning. She felt lips at her ear. “Now, you’ll publically show them all your submission to me.” A shiver scraped down her spine. Clawing pleasure yanked at her core, demanding her release. From a distance, she heard moans. Not hers, but utterly arousing. “They’re all having an early morning fuck,” Kellon told her, revealing what she couldn’t see. “You did this. You got everyone worked up with your cries. Rob has his wife bent over a seat.” His fingers parted her as he spoke. “Natalia is riding Ethan. Rob’s brother and his wife are at it, too. Colin’s wife Olivia is on her knees, sucking his cock—” “Do you want me to suck your cock, Sir?” she asked, thinking it might be how he wanted her submission. “No.” His fingers rubbed over her clit. “I want you to come. Come now, Sybil mine,” he demanded, shoving two fingers deep into her cunt. Her scream echoed around them, her orgasm exploding from her at his command. He didn’t try to stifle the sound, as he finger-fucked her harder. “That’s it, baby. Let it out. Show everyone who you belong to.” “Kellon,” she wailed. There was a jerk on the chain, and her arms were freed though her wrists were still bound. He bent her farther over his arm, and his hand clapped onto her ass. “Yes,” she wailed. “Yes…” Distantly, she heard a zipper. Before she registered its meaning, Kellon’s cock probed her. He drove deep, his hips slapping hard into her ass. Over and over, he pounded into her while she cried out, helpless to do much more than to grasp at his arm and take his shaft to the hilt. The wet slap of their bodies filled her senses. There was nothing but them. She was his vessel of pleasure; he protected her, used her, his cherished possession. He took her to her knees, the shackles allowing her the movement but keeping her feet far apart. Her shoulders pushed to the wood as he knelt behind her, still pummeling in and out of her cunt. She lost track of how many releases he gave her, of where they were, of why they were fucking with such ferocity. She only knew pleasure so deep it was imprinted on every cell and would never leave her.

The feral drives pushed them flat to the stage, their legs hanging from the edge of the dais. His hips continued moving between her splayed thighs. “Whose body is this?” he demanded. “Yours,” she cried. “Yours, Master.” In that moment, he was for more than Sir. He was her Master. “Who do you belong to?” “You, Master. Master,” she screamed as another orgasm twisted through her. Her clamped nipples scrubbed across the smooth wood beneath them. “For how long?” he growled, giving her no quarter. His drives grew shallow and quick as he jerked inside her. “Forever! Yes,” she wailed when his cum splashed inside her, marking his total possession. “Mine.” “Yes,” she sighed back with a smile as they both sank to the floor. Kellon was still over her, his weight pushing her down, but she didn’t care. She was his, and she liked his weight on her. “You’re grinning,” he observed. “Mmm,” she murmured. “Disobedience isn’t so bad. As long as I’m safe with you. I love you, Kellon. Spank me, punish me, but don’t ever let me go. Ever.” “Never.” His lips brushed her shoulder, his cock still slowly throbbing inside her, but both of them were too emotionally drained to move. “You belong with me, Sybil mine, forever and always as my love and my disobedient sub.” She chuckled, and her ass ached a little as it rubbed against him. They’d needed this— healing at the end of a paddle. Everything was going to be okay. “Remember you said that. I’ll probably never change.” “I’m counting on that.” He kissed the back of her neck, sending a shudder through her body as he fanned the ebbing flames of arousal inside her. Maybe they could retire to their private spot in her workshop. “Fuck me again,” she suggested. “All day long.” “Sybil…you are so bad.” But she had a feeling, as she felt his cock growing, that she was about to be rewarded for that, and that was why Kellon was her perfect Dom…and Master.

About the Author

When it comes to books and movies, Brynn has one rule: there must be a happy ending. After that one requirement, anything goes. And it just might in her books. She lives in Michigan with her husband and two children, who love her despite her occasional threats to smite them. They humor her and let her think she's a goddess...as long as she provides homemade chocolate chip cookies on a regular basis. Brynn has conducted workshops at several writers’ conferences around the country and enjoys mentoring and meeting new people. According to Brynn, her writing success can be attributed to an eclectic collection of music, her local road construction crews, a trusty notebook, and of course, her husband, Mr. Inspiration, who puts up with a lot in the name of research. Brynn loves to talk to her readers and can be found at www.brynnpaulin.com.

Also available from

Resplendence Publishing

Kidnap and Kink by Brynn Paulin Be Careful What You Wish For… Jenna Marks has a secret fantasy, to be kidnapped, tied up and seduced. When she confides her secret to her best friend on a dare, she never imagines her wish might come true. Rob Colvin, owner of The Dungeon, has had his eye on Jenna for months, but he didn’t think Jenna would be into the things that make him hot. When he overhears her secret, he knows he’s going to be the one to deliver her fantasy—one weekend of her submission to him, her mysterious and masterful lover.

Bottom’s Up by Eliza Gayle Snooping is risky business…sometimes it pays off in unexpected ways. Jenn has been in love with her best friend since college and despite their years apart she is determined to at least find out if he has any interest in her. When the opportunity opens up in the form of a job interview in his hometown, she jumps on a plane with a plan to see what happens. Riley walked away from Jenn after college to explore and understand the dark side of him that harbored needs he knew she was too young to understand. They kept in touch and after years of exploration into his kinks, he's decided the time for hiding the truth from the woman he loved has come to an end. When Jenn finds a BDSM book and a flyer for a local sex club in his condo, she is both shocked and intrigued. Riley catches her red-handed snooping through his things and dares her to give him and his lifestyle a chance. Two days to explore her potential submissive side and see where it leads. With no hesitation and barely a thought to how far he might go, she jumps at the chance to prove she’s the woman for him, even if it’s just for the weekend.

Guardian’s Challenge by Bronwyn Green No good deed goes unpunished...

When Neeve returns to the kingdom of Maelgwn to help a friend, she finds herself face to face with the man she ran from nine months ago. Before she fled, she’d promised a year of service to the Guardians of the Temple, and now that she’s back, Asher, the Chancellor of Maelgwn intends to claim the remainder of that time. For almost a year, Asher has been searching for his consort, Neeve, who vanished without a trace. He wants her back where she belongs. In his bed. And a year won’t be nearly long enough. When the pair ends up on a diplomatic mission, with another guardian accompanying, Asher finds his plan to claim her sidetracked by duty and torn by the obligation to share her with the other man for the duration of their task. With hearts and the future at stake, Asher and Neeve must find the power to believe, trust and love one another, not just for the moment but forever. But that might be more than either is able to give.

Mr. Smith’s Whip by Brynn Paulin Librarian Olivia McKinnion’s life rarely changes as she oversees the Brandywine community library and archives, but when Colin Smith takes up residence to research his latest book, everything changes. She’s heard whispers of Mr. Smith’s whip and his dominant ways— whispers that make her tremble with need for her secret wishes to be fulfilled. And more than anything, she wants Colin to show her the darker side of sex, bent over his knee and begging for more.

Infernal Devices by Abigail Barnette All Steamed Up: Book One The Two Aces. Victorian London’s most salacious secret, the club is a place where erotic fantasies are played out among clockwork automatons and aether powered machines. Where nothing is off limits and the pleasures are as wicked as the imagination will allow... Permilia Deering goes to The Two Aces looking for the sexual excitement that she knows she will not find with the man to whom she is affianced, notorious cold-fish Wallace Sterling. On her first visit to the club, she meets the Ace of Spades, a masked stranger who drives her to heights of passion she’s never dreamed possible—and makes her seriously reconsider becoming a mannerly society wife. When Wallace Sterling first glimpses his fiancée standing outside The Two Aces, he assumes she’s uncovered his secret identity—the Ace of Spades. But Permilia has no idea that her intended is living a double life, and Wallace worries that he’ll be out of the picture once she gets a taste of what the Ace of Spades can offer her...

Las Vegas by Demi Alex Determined to spread her grandmother’s ashes from the top of the Eiffel Tower, Angel embarks on a cross-country trip to Las Vegas. It’s not France, but it’s all her budget will allow. Too bad the screened observation deck hinders her plans, and when she attempts to slip her hands past the wire, the local authorities cuff her wrists. With the last of her money used to pay fines and court fees, a complimentary food voucher leads her to a casino pub for a bite to eat. There, a late night proposition arises. Baring her breasts for a bit of cash seems simple enough, but three intriguing strangers change the odds and raise the stakes. Angel discovers she doesn’t need Lady Luck when she’s got the Luck of the Irish. Laying all her cards on the table, she bets on a passionate night with Liam, Brody and Ryan. But come morning, the guys up the ante. The jackpot is tempting, but staying with the three men is the greatest gamble of her life and requires that she go all in. Will Angel fold and leave Las Vegas as she arrived? Or will she add her heart to the pot and meet their ante?

Possessing Eleanor by Tessie Bradford Eleanor Lewis is perfectly content with her comfortable, quiet, relationship free life until she finds herself on all fours at the feet of Jackson Royce. Eleanor is stunned by her instant and intense attraction to the power and confidence radiating from the devilishly handsome building contractor. He scrambles her brain and heats her body to the boiling point. Jackson always trusts his gut instincts. The ultra sexy woman sprawled on the floor is a sexual submissive. How intriguing that the all-business, sensible shoe-wearing office manager has absolutely no idea. The moment he takes her into his embrace, he vows to possess her mind, body and soul. From their first sizzling encounter, through a whirlwind courtship, Eleanor discovers being possessed by a man who loves her absolutely is what she had been searching for all along.

Transparent Illusions by Melinda Barron Freelance writer Saffron Tyler needs work. When she offers her journalistic skills to Steele Publications, they suggest that she spend two weeks as a submissive at Fingertip Fantasies, an exclusive BDSM resort that caters to the ultimate fantasies of any customer willing to pay for the high-end service. She’s been tasked to come back with a titillating exposé guaranteed to enthrall the readers of Steele’s underground magazine, Salacious.

But when Saffron arrives at the resort, she realizes nothing is as it seems, from the fact she doesn’t know where the resort is located, or anything about the man she is submitting to—except she’s to call him Master, with a capital M. What starts out as an undercover assignment soon becomes so much more. Immersed in the lifestyle, Saffron finds herself no longer acting the role of the submissive, but actually wanting to be the perfect sub her Master believes she can be. When all is said and done, will Saffron take her experience and her story and never look back? Or will she choose to stay with the man who commands her mind, body, and soul.

Heart of Ice by Brynn Paulin Kai is perfectly unhappy with his life. Cast into a role as shop boy and forced into marriage to save his family, he sees nothing good in his future. In fact, his betrothed, Gerda, seems to hate everything he enjoys. Especially winter and his attraction to dominating his partners. His prospects look grim…until the Snow Queen arrives. Wyn has spent her life alone, living vicariously through those who love winter. When she learns of Kai’s predicament, she knows she must save him. If only she could save herself. She craves his dominance, but there’s one tiny thing standing in their way. No human can touch her without experiencing chilly agony. And that might bring any relationship to an icy death.

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