Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(100)
Anne took a step in that direction.
“Easy, pet. Your safeword was artichoke, but I understand anyway. We’re stopping right now.” The sadist Edward was trying not to laugh. He noticed Anne and winked before telling the submissive, “I’m going to take the needles out nice and slow. Take a breath.”
Good Dom. Anne shook her head. There were several advantages to the stoplight safeword system. “Red” was short enough to gasp out between screams. Submissives rarely forgot the word. And everyone in the lifestyle knew the meaning.
Turning away, she pulled in a slow breath and wished she had a safeword for her talk with Ben.
Was he here yet?
She should have asked the new gray-haired security guy, but her voice had disappeared when she saw him. He…wasn’t Ben. Apparently her subconscious had expected her guard dog to be at the desk.
Well, she’d start looking in the usual place. As she headed for the bar, she glanced at the scenes.
A male submissive was bent over with his neck and wrists secured in the wooden stocks. A spreader bar kept his legs far enough apart to display a straining cock.
The spider web held two female slaves restrained side-by-side to get easily caned by their Master.
A young man was doing self-suspension, with a couple of people sitting nearby to assist if needed.
She nodded at Marcus, who was setting up a St. Andrew’s cross. Nolan was taking over the adjacent cross while Beth and Gabi waited on their knees. The two Masters probably had something devious planned. Maybe she could bring Ben back to watch…if he agreed.
She’d see him soon. Her Ben. Like a cold tidal wave, anxiety washed over her, sending her heart to thudding.
No, no, relax. It would be all right. It would. People in relationships…negotiated. Worked things out. Took turns—and it was her turn to try it his way.
Please be willing to try, Ben.
The thought of losing him created a jagged ache in her chest. Firmly, she pushed the feeling away.
If only she didn’t feel so…alone.
She’d fought with her family. Had no job. Was pregnant. Now, maybe she’d lose Ben too.
She stopped, took a breath, and remembered she had a spine. Yes, it was scary to imagine being on her own with a little one depending on her for everything. But she was an independent, smart, caring adult. She wouldn’t let her baby down.
And she mustn’t allow her weakness to push Ben into something he didn’t want. He should be able to walk away from her if that was what he needed.
Would he want that? As she approached the bar, her emotions were an unsettled stew of misery rather than frothy anticipation.
“Anne,” Cullen greeted. “Drink?”
A waft of perfume from the subbie area tipped her stomach into nausea and kept her from sitting. “No, thank you.”
Before he could answer, a thudding noise caught his attention.
A submissive roped down on the bar top—a bar ornament—was thumping one foot on the gleaming wood.
Since the knotwork looked like Nolan’s, the sub had probably annoyed the you-will-be-respectful Master and gotten herself tied to the bar. She was positioned on forearms and knees, her hair fastened to an iron rung. Ropes secured her widely separated lower legs to the bar. Nipple clamps attached to another rung pulled her chest low and onto one end of the miniature seesaw. A vibrator was bound to the teeter-totter’s other end…and positioned against the sub’s clit.
From her flushed color, the sub had recently orgasmed and was struggling to get the vibrator away from her undoubtedly sensitive clit. But for the vibrator end of the seesaw to drop, the submissive had to raise her chest. She tried—and wailed as the movement pulled on her nipple clamps.
It was a superb example of predicament bondage.
After adding more restraints so the sub couldn’t kick his bar, Cullen patted her ass and rejoined his submissive Andrea in mixing drinks.
Would Ben like predicament bondage and being in a no-win situation? Anne considered. Perhaps she’d set up something that would make him choose between his balls being squeezed or an anal plug? They had so many things that would be fun to explore. Some of her slaves had loved predica—
“Mistress Anne.”
She glanced over.
Joey stood at her elbow. “Please, Mistress Anne.” His desperate voice held a vulnerability that called to her Domme spirit.
As she’d taught him, he gracefully went to his knees. His chain harness pressed into his chest, showcasing his pectoral muscles beautifully.
“Joey. How are you doing?”
“Mistress.” His head bent, his voice wavered, and yet he maintained his perfect posture with his gaze on the floor, his hands open on his thighs. “Mistress, I miss you so much. Please take me back.”
The plea caught her in a place that had been aching since Ben had said he didn’t want to serve her.
She bent and lifted Joey’s chin and saw the utter surrender in his eyes. Saw the hope that she’d exert her will and hurt him, that she’d force him to accept everything she wanted to give, that she’d push him beyond what he thought he could take.
His shiver under her touch brought back the past and memories of how he’d cleaned her house and cooked for her. While they watched television, he’d sit at her feet…in the position Ben found objectionable.
But she didn’t need a slave at her feet. Didn’t need complete control of someone all the time. Ben had helped her see how she’d changed.