Saved by Submission (6 page)

The elderly lady had welcomed him with open arms, knowing what her son and daughter-in-law were like. The only hurtful thing was that his mother had not even tried to keep in touch after he left.

For the first sixteen years of his life, he had been treated like some kind of inconvenience. It was as if his mother had had to produce a child to show she could, and then had left the job of raising him to his father and the constant stream of nannies that had passed through the household. She had shown no interest in him, whatsoever, so when he had left for his grandmother’s house, with just two large canvass bags, Jacob had not looked back at all.

His mother had sent a check each month to cover his living costs, and that had been the extent of her interest in his well-being ever since.

There hadn’t been much in the way of luxury for him, but there sure as hell had been a lot of love.

He was overdue for a visit to his grandmother, he knew, and as soon as he got back home he intended to spend a couple of days with her.

Now in her seventies, his Grandma Eileen was as fit and active as ever, but Jacob liked to make sure there was nothing she needed done around the house. It had been his responsibility since he was sixteen, and he intended to look after her, just as she had done to him, for as long as she lived.

He finished the soda and tossed it in the trash bin he kept behind the passenger seat. It was time to get some sleep so he could get the earliest start possible back to Tennessee. Louisville had been more fun than he’d expected, and for once, the long journey back on the following Friday was something he would look forward to. A new little submissive had made sure of that.

* * * *

The next morning, Megan walked, bleary eyed, into the kitchen, feeling the need for some strong coffee. Nicky was already up and sitting at the tiny kitchen table, eating toast. The two women stared at each other for a second, and then smiled, neither one wanting any atmosphere between them.

“I made enough toast for two,” Nicky said, pushing the plate towards Megan, who had taken the only other chair.

Megan took a slice and covered it liberally with raspberry jam. It was just what she needed; well, that and the mug of coffee Nicky pushed across the table to her.

“Megan, I’m really sorry about what I said last night. I know that kind of lifestyle interests you, and I didn’t mean to upset you or make it sound trashy or anything. I’d had a bit to drink, and you know, more than anyone, how pathetic I am when I drink.”

“Yes, I do, which would be one more reason not to hang out with that low-life pimp!”

Nicky took a sip from her mug and looked at the table.

“Shit, Nic, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. But it’s so frustrating, watching him slime all over you, promising all that shit.” Megan covered her friend’s hand with her own. “I love you, you pain-in-the-butt. Please, don’t do anything stupid. We’re doing okay, right? We’ve actually got some money hidden away, and that’s more than most have got in our position. I figure another six months of being really careful, and we might even be able to start school.”

Nicky smiled at her friend. “I know important it is for you to make something of yourself.”

“Isn’t it equally important to you?” Megan asked.

Nicky didn’t answer. Instead she studied the Betty Boop wall clock that the two of them had bought from a street vendor just after they’d arrived in Louisville. With its moving eyes and legs, the two women had laughed when they saw it, remembering the time that Nicky had dressed up as Betty Boop for Halloween a few years back.

“Oh great, I’m going to be late for the restaurant,
again!”
she cried, jumping up and slurping down the rest of her coffee. “Don’t worry, M. You’re right. Everything will work out okay.” She stopped in the kitchen doorway. “And I bet I make more tips at the restaurant than you do at the club tonight!”

With that, she left her friend sitting in the kitchen and within a few seconds, Megan heard the sound of the shower running.

Megan ate the rest of her toast, and finished the mug of steaming coffee. There was no point in saying any more to Nicky right now. Hopefully, that would be the end of it, and AJ, the slime ball, would just disappear from their lives, once he saw that they were not interested.

She got up slowly from the table, stretched, and went to get dressed, happy in the knowledge that it was almost nine hours before she had to go to work again.

Chapter Four

Megan’s feet ached as she staggered back to the apartment with two large grocery bags. Fresh fruit and vegetables sure did weigh a lot more than boxes of doughnuts and bags of chips, but she had been determined to start eating more healthily.

She had tried to convince both Nicky and herself that there was no special reason for the change of diet, but if she was honest, wanting to slim down a little had become a lot more important in the last few days.

Not that Jacob had shown any negativity towards her curves. In fact, it had been quite the opposite, she remembered; and as she thought about his hands on her body, especially her most private area, throbbing began right there, in between her legs.

It had been a long week. She’d had a health check, and everything was fine. One minute she had hardly been able to contain her excitement about their forthcoming meeting, and the next, she’d been filled with trepidation.

What if he’d had a change of heart? What if she went there, all ready to receive her next lesson in submission, and he didn’t show up? What if he did show up, but she lost her nerve?

All these questions had been rolling around in her mind ever since she’d agreed to meet him again. And now the day had finally arrived. The so-called butterflies in her stomach felt more like large marbles all bashing in to each other.

Still, there was no harm in trying to look her best, even if the skirt and halter top that she’d chosen for tonight was a bit more risqué than usual. Also, knowing that he had forbidden any underwear had made her nervous. Even when she was working at the strip club, she kept her thong or lacy panties on.

Oh well,
she thought, unlocking her front door. Whatever happened, she was not backing out now.

She’d just put down the bags in the kitchen when her cell rang. Recognizing the number, she answered with a smile.

“Hi, boss man,” she said. She knew, in her line of work, that she was very lucky to have a boss who was as decent as Jimmy. He made an effort to make sure all the women working for him were looked after, and had been known, now and again, to help out some of them with rent money or bills.

However, at this moment, he sounded flustered. “Megan, I know it’s short notice, but I need you to cover for Robin tonight. She decided to leave it till now to call and tell me she’s sick, and Marie’s already asked for the night off. So I need you to cover, okay?”

Shit, shit, shit!
Megan knew that Jimmy always slipped his girls a little extra when they helped him out like this, and God knew she could do with the money. But why did it have to be tonight of all nights?

“Jimmy, you know I would, usually, but I can’t tonight. I’ve got something really special going on and I just cannot miss it. Can’t Brandy stand in for Robin? She doesn’t usually work Fridays, and I know she could do with the money.”

Jimmy voice changed from flustered to pissed off. “You’re really going to turn down the chance of extra cash? Come on, Megan, I need you to work tonight.”

“Look, Jimmy, I haven’t taken a day off since I started working for you. I’ve stepped in half a dozen times when people have let you down; some of them at an hour’s notice. I don’t think you’re being very fair.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and then a sigh. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get mad. Of course you should have your special night. I’m just a mean, miserable old son-of-a-bitch, so just ignore me, okay?”

Megan smiled into her phone. “You’re none of those things, and I promise I’ll cover the next time you need someone. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Bye, sugar.”

The line went dead and Megan tossed her phone on the counter. Now that she’d turned down some much needed extra money, Mr. Jacob West had better rock her world tonight.

Thinking about the night to come, and the ways in which he might just do that, Megan groaned aloud with nerves and began to unload her shopping.

* * * *

There were a few raised eyebrows when she got to work that night and went to the bar to start her shift.

Daniel, one of the bar tenders, gave her a long, low whistle. “Honey, if I wasn’t as gay as springtime, I’d consider bending you over one of the spanking benches myself.”

Megan blushed. “Oh God, Daniel, is it too much?” Her black, vinyl skirt was very short, and the red halter top didn’t exactly leave a lot to the imagination. Maybe she should have dressed a little more conservatively.

“Megan, you look a million dollars. Now, go forth and bring me drink orders, wench!”

Megan laughed. “Is there a medieval night coming up that I didn’t know about?” she asked. After all, there were enough medieval, torture-looking devices in this room to warrant it.

“Hmm, that’s not a bad idea. I think I might mention it to the boss. Now, scoot!”

Megan spent the next few hours filling orders, delivering drinks, and clearing tables. It was hard work, but she’d been there long enough now to recognize some of the frequent guests, and they, in turn, were happy to chat to her as she worked.

The club rules were made clear to every guest, that waitresses, distinguished by their staff armband, were to be treated as just that: a waitress only. But any staff member could be approached to see if they would like to play when their shift was over.

Considering what was happening all around her, the club had a relaxed, happy atmosphere.

As she went back and forth to the bar, she passed pieces of equipment; the spanking benches, St Andrew’s crosses, harnesses, and sections of wall lined with whips, paddles and canes of all shapes and sizes.

It had felt very strange, walking around without any underwear. She was aware of everything down there, a lot more so than usual. Her pussy seemed swollen. In fact everything felt exaggerated. Even her nipples seemed to rub uncomfortably on the fabric of her top, and the experience had left her feeling excited, almost frustrated, with a need that grated on her the longer she worked.

Hearing the moans and screams around her, and watching Doms lovingly bringing their subs to noisy climaxes hadn’t helped either.

Her stomach churned when she thought that maybe she’d get to experience how that felt, really soon.

Just before ten, Megan stood at the bar and idly rubbed one of her aching feet before putting her shoe back on her foot.

“I hope you’re not too tired to play, sweetheart.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she spun around. His low, baritone voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“You came,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Of course,” he replied. “Did you think I’d stand you up?”

“No…I just thought…maybe…” She took a breath. “I did wonder if you’d change your mind.”

Jacob gave her one of his grins, which made him seem a little less sinister, considering the size of him, and the fact that he was dressed in black jeans, black boots, and a long sleeved dark blue shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, which were tanned and muscular.

“Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you what I
have
been thinking about. I can assure you, Megan, my
not
turning up tonight certainly wasn’t on the agenda.”

Megan turned to the bar and put her tray down in front of Daniel, who was standing there, openmouthed, staring unashamedly at the two of them, obviously having heard their conversation.

“My shift is over, Daniel. Incidentally, you might like to close your mouth. This is a BDSM club, after all. Someone might plop something in there without warning.”

He had the good grace to blush, but quickly recovered. “Why, thank you for the advice, missy. Now, go and play with my blessing.”

Jacob put a bag on the bar top. “Can you stash this behind the bar for me for a while?”

“Yes, Sir, that’s not a problem,” Daniel replied, grabbing the bag and storing it under the counter.

As the two of them left the bar area, Megan glanced up at him and caught his surprised expression. She laughed. “Daniel is like a mother hen to a few of us. I guess he had to give us his seal of approval.”

“I gather I pass inspection then,” Jacob said with a lazy smile.

“Oh yes,” Megan replied, “most definitely.”

Jacob took her wrist and led her to a group of chairs over at the side of the club, close to the spanking benches. A few other couples occupied the area, and Megan suddenly felt shy, knowing that up until now she had been merely a waitress, and now she’d be expected to act as Jacob’s submissive.

He indicated for her to sit in the furthest chair from the others, and then pulled his own chair close to hers.

“Did you get the medical check out of the way?” he asked.

She nodded. “Everything’s fine.”

“Good, then we’re both okay. But you still thought there was a chance that I wouldn’t show up.”

She studied the floor in front of her. “Not really, I mean…well, the possibility did cross…”

“Look at me, sub.”

It was a command. She tore her gaze from the floor and met his serious, grey-blue eyes.

“I expect the truth, Megan. If either of us is untruthful, this can’t go any further. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper.

She noted his frown.

“Shit, what is the matter with me?”
she chided herself.

“Yes, Sir,” she corrected quickly.

Jacob took in the nervous expression on her face, and decided it was time the little sub sitting next to him learned about trust in a BDSM setting.