Dungeon Time (Play at Work) (2 page)

A tall, thin woman in full leather stood from her table. “Is she wet enough to satisfy you?”

Roland moved back. “Lady Virginia, would you like to check?” Completely out of character—he never offered to include others in his games.

Every moment of this evening illustrated the problems evident in
Edward’s life. Showed him his priorities. If he took on this girl, who cared for someone else, it would be one more in a series of relationships lacking what he truly sought. If he didn’t act soon, approach the one woman he thought he could just maybe make a real life with, she would find someone else, and he would be left adrift. She haunted his dreams,

Brigid
was beautiful…but she was in love with Roland. Her body language, her eyes—when not blindfolded—followed the Dom’s every move…. He wanted his someone to look to him that way.

“I’d be delighted to assist.” The Domme climbed the two stairs to the stage and circled the cross. “Very nice work, although her back is still a little pale, almost no bruising.”

Roland nodded. “I may have been remiss.”

Stalking to
within inches of the girl, she yanked the blindfold off and grinned at her. “Are you having a good time, my dear?”

“Y-yes, Mistress.” The shaking sub clenched her fists on the chains holding her wrists in place.

“But that’s not the idea, is it?” She grabbed a handful of the piled blonde tresses and jerked. “It is Master Roland’s good time you seek. Has he come yet?”

“No, no, Mistress.”

Releasing her hair, Lady Virginia paced around her again and stopped. “May I?”

Roland waved toward the flogger, but the Domme frowned.

“I think not. If you don’t mind, I will just unhook her and…you’re sure you give me leave?”

“Do your worst.”

Edward accepted another tonic and lime and settled back. Virginia’s worst. The sub would suffer. The onlookers would be entertained.

The Mistress bent to Roland, and they murmured for a moment. She paused, head cocked to the side, her double Ds near to bursting out of her black leather halter dress. “I’m informed you are new to our play, so I ask you to tell me
your safe words. You may speak.”

The Scandinavian-looking beauty muttered something, and Virginia grabbed one of the nipple clamps and jerked it free. The girl screamed
when blood returned to over-sensitized tissues.

“I said you may speak. Do not mutter.”

“Red, it’s red.”

“Tsk.” The Mistress yanked off the other clamp.
Brigid gurgled an incoherent sound. “Red, who? Roland, have you taught her no manners?”

He shrugged.

“Red, Mistress!”

Virginia pinched her nipples. “Very good. At least you know the proper form of address.” She ignored the girl’s gasp and gave a sharp tug. “But I see you still wear a bit of jewelry, poor thing. Does it hurt?” She reached between
Brigid’s legs. A scream broke the silence of the room

The stage scene garnered little attention most nights, more for training of subs and slaves than true performance, but the new girl, with her beauty and potential, held the
members and staff in place.

The Mistress tossed the chains and clamps to the side. “But we still have to deal with your selfishness.”

The girl’s head thrashed against the cross. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Better and better.” Virginia dragged her long, blood-red nails down the bound sub’s side, leaving
matching marks in their wake. “Beautiful, if we can teach her how to behave.” She gripped Brigid by the waist and bit her breast, leaving an imprint. Virginia’s teeth were so sharp, he’d often wondered if she’d had them filed. “I enjoyed that. Did you, slut?”

Her head bounced back and forth, but she didn’t use her safe word.
Brave.
Very few newbies found themselves in Mistress Virginia’s sadistic clutches. If Brigid called red, nobody would blame her. Yet, she only bit her lip until a crimson droplet stained her skin.

Not good. The Domme loved blood play. But Roland narrowed his eyes, and Virginia shrugged. “Don’t tempt me, little girl.”

The sub’s intensity waned; her eyelids drooped. The two who played her were experienced enough to recognize the signs. Time to wrap it up.

“Roland, if I unfasten this bit of nothing, would you allow her to pleasure you with her mouth? I don’t think she’s earned your cock in her pussy tonight.”

“No, such discourtesy shames me, but let her try.”

Virginia closed on
Brigid, rubbing against her and slipping one hand between her legs. The sub let out a mewling cry, and the Domme laughed. “Surely you don’t expect to come. Do you think you deserve it?”

“No, Mistress.” Her body language said otherwise, her hips jerking forward, knees trembling, but Virginia freed her fingers and licked them clean.

“So sweet. I might borrow you sometime. Perhaps I could help you learn respect.” She laughed. “Enough. Take her down and let her show her Master gratitude for even trying to civilize such a person.”

Edward lost interest while
Brigid knelt and took Roland’s cock in her mouth. Once things moved on to actual sex, the act became more personal, less involving for him. He finished his drink. The Dom would be back for his answer, but he didn’t have one. The girl bore a resemblance to his lost twins, but Edward’s priorities had shifted. Someone in his daytime world had caught his attention.

Still, when Roland returned to the table, Edward allowed the new sub to crawl under
neath and free his cock from his pants. She gobbled his dick, licking and sucking her way from top to bottom with a pleasing eagerness. She cupped his sac and gently squeezed. He rested against the seat back, enjoying her attentions, her eager nibbles. As his balls tightened, he tangled his fingers in her hair and rocked his hips, fucking deep in her throat. He held her there until she swallowed every drop of his cum then pushed her away.

“What do you think, Edward?” Roland dragged her back to him and shoved her face in his lap, his lips tight, and Edward regretted accepting his offer. Even when trying to give her away, t
he Dom had not enjoyed sharing.

“She’s quite talented.”

“She is that. And, you must agree, she can take pain. She loves it.”

Mona Whitman flew through the front office of Marks and Company. Recently, she’d been doing it every day, but instead of the expression of fright of the past, she now wore a wide grin.

“You’re late again.”

“I know. The boss is going to give me hell.” She giggled and disappeared into the hallway.

Anna shook her head and opened a new document on her PC. Mona and Mr. Marks had become an item—although they didn’t seem to realize the fact.

Anna Palladino, receptionist and best friend, was not about to tell them. They seemed to enjoy sneaking around, and who was she to deny them their pleasure?

The two
probably had a great sex life. Anna got that. But her own limited experience kept her from asking too many questions. She’d gathered they engaged in some unusual practices and had caught Mona rubbing her bottom one day after emerging from the boss’s office.

Anna’s happiness for the couple was tempered with her own longing for someone special of her own. From her desk, she watched the other employees coming and going, discussing their relationships, the breakups and make
-ups that filled their lives. During the two years of her employment at Marks and Company, two of her coworkers had married, three had given birth, and one had divorced—while she worked all day and lived with her parents. In the Palladino family, single women did not leave the family dwelling. Before purchasing her life-changing ereader, she’d had her naughty novellas—the source of many late-night fantasies—stuffed under her mattress like a horny teenager. Nice girls didn’t read stories about men in black leather binding girls to their beds and ravishing them. Maybe she wasn’t a nice girl.

And
that day, after work, she would move into her own apartment.

Her declaration of independence had stunned her traditional mother and commanding father. As the eldest child, she would also be the first to leave the nest. Her sister would marry in a few months and move out
too—but in an acceptable way. Cara’s engagement had lit a fire under her. First one sister then the next, then her brothers would marry and leave. Soon only poor Anna, victim of a broken engagement that had ruined her reputation, would remain at home—to take care of her aging parents. Sitting in their out-of-date living room until
she
aged into a dried-up prune.

The phone rang, and she answered, passing the call along to
Human Resources. Mr. Marks preferred the human touch, wanting the calls that came to the main line answered by a person, not a machine. Of course, anyone knowing the extension they wanted could dial it, but Anna still stayed busy. She also offered her assistance to anyone who needed data entry. Anything to make the time go by—especially today, while counting the hours until she could pick up the key to her new apartment.

Nothing too elaborate, but it was near the beach and offered a pool and exercise room. She would work out every day and get thin like the blonde bimbo who stole Giovanni.

The sweet scent from the bunch of deep-pink roses on her desk drew her attention and she pulled off a bruised petal. She’d miss spending Saturdays tending the garden with her mother, but independence had its price. She’d have her own flowers one day. Maybe even the florist business she dreamed of owning. Heirloom blooms for discerning customers….

“Anna?”

She glanced up, face heating at being caught woolgathering. “Mr. Masters, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

His smile lit his dark brown eyes. “Hello, Anna, I’m here for lunch with Randolph. Will you please let him know I’ve arrived?”

“Oh, of course.” She lifted the phone and dialed the boss’s extension. “He will be out in a moment, sir. Please have a seat.”

“No problem.” Instead of sitting on one of the chairs across the room, he rested a hip against her desk. Tall, lean and
handsome, Mr. Marks’ attorney attracted the attention of every woman in the office whenever he stopped in. She’d heard a few giggling about the possibility of “hooking the big fish.”
Disgusting.

Although he’d been named one of the most eligible bachelors in the state two years running, he was still a human being and not the trophy they implied. And although he never said more than a few words to her, his courtesy and kind inquiries about her health warmed her heart.

Any woman would be lucky to have him show an interest in her. If only….

“How are things around here, Anna? Any scandals?”

He had never been so close to her before, so near she could reach out and touch the lapel on his gray jacket. Or his elegant, long fingered hand. Her throat ached, and to her horror, her nipples tightened under her thin white blouse—like the heroines in her favorite books. Could he see?

His expression gave nothing away. He merely cocked a brow, and her words tumbled out.

“Only Mona and Mr. Marks.”
No! I did not just say that to my boss’s attorney.

But he laughed and slapped the desk. “So people know, do they? And what do they think?” He leaned even closer. “More to the point, what do
you
think?”

With the cat out of the bag, her honesty came to the forefront. “I’m glad for them. Mona deserves to have someone wonderful in her life.”

His face softened. “They both do. Randolph and I go way back, and I’ve never seen him happier.”

“He’s a good boss.”

Mr. Masters paused a moment, and her breathing grew shallow. He held her gaze, his expression intent. “And you, Anna? Do you have someone special?”

What was he asking? She stared back, trapped in his deep brown eyes, her blood thrumming in her veins. Heat pooled in her stomach, and she licked her dry lips.

“Anna?” Mona’s voice.

She jumped, banging her knee on the desk drawer. “Ouch, I mean, yes. I’m ready.”

Mr. Masters straightened. “Hello, Mona.”

While Anna felt as if they’d been caught doing something wrong, he didn’t give away a thing by tone or appearance. Except, when he buttoned his suit coat, she got a glimpse of the front of his gray slacks. The bulge there put her ex to shame—she tried to think what might have brought it on. Surely nothing she’d said.

“Hi, Edward.” Mona gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek—another sign of her change of status. She wouldn’t have done that a month ago, but they were probably social friends now. “Waiting for Randolph?”

He grinned. “Yep. He’s late.”

“Tsk. What shall we do about it?”

Mr. Marks arrived just at that moment. “Okay, don’t be getting too full of yourself, Mona.” He flashed her a stern look, but she batted her eyes at him, and the corner of his mouth quirked.
“Edward. We’d better get going.”