Fulfilling Her Fantasy (2 page)

Janice
suppressed a sigh. "Because, my dear inquisitive friend, I'm scared to ask
for what I really want. Now can we please drop the subject and get back to what
is supposed to be your early Christmas present to me: a nice,
relaxing
massage?"

"Fine,"
Ellen muttered, digging her fingertips so hard into Janice's lower back that
she reared up with a squeal. "But we're going to get some coffee after
this, and then you're going to tell me. Or…" she lowered her voice
menacingly, "I'm gonna find a way to
make
you."

***

"Right
folks, now that it's just us, I'd like to elaborate on our contingency plan in
the event that we actually do end up with a submissive on stage for whom no-one
is bidding," Marshall said, scanning the room to make sure all the Masters
were present around their private dining room table. "Wait, where's
Dominick?"

"Here,"
Dominick said, as he sauntered in. His thick, spiky dark hair was dripping wet.

"Is
it raining, oh Master Gaoler?" Travis said, with a grin.

"Gym,"
was all Dominick said by way of explanation. Finding an empty chair near the
door, he slid into it and leaned back, folding his arms.

"Sometimes
I think you spend more time there than you do at work," Travis continued.

Dominick
raised an eyebrow. "Unlike some people, I take my job very seriously,
actually. I merely prefer to keep
all
my muscles in shape." He smirked. "Not just my pelvic ones."

As
everyone around the table chuckled, Master Marshall cut in before Travis could
respond. "Okay, okay guys. As I was saying… we need to make sure that none
of the brave boys and girls who go up on that stage to be auctioned end up
feeling humiliated. No sub left behind. Which is why I need volunteers. Any of
you who aren't actually going to be participating will be expected to step in
and bid for a slave in the highly unlikely event that no-one else does. I need
at least a few of you to be 'plants'—not to drive the bids up, mind, just
to bid in an emergency."

"Happy
to," Dominick said.

"Sara's
not due to give birth until around mid-January, anyway, so I'll do whatever's
necessary," Jackson said. "So don't you dare decide to make an early
appearance, little one," he added, rubbing his wife's protruding belly.

Sara
sighed. "Oh God, I hope you haven't jinxed it. What with my sister coming
for New Year's, and now this, the baby's bound to come early."

"Only
if it's as stubbornly determined to be as naughty as its mother," Jackson
said, patting her cheek. "The list of demerits you've accrued over the
last couple of months is astonishing. You're gonna be one sorry little girl
once this child has arrived and you've recovered from giving birth."

Marshall
looked at the others. "Is there anyone here who's considering actually
taking part in this auction for real?"

The
Dominants with partners all shook their heads, as did most of the others.
"Do we have a list of participants yet?" Master Alan asked idly, the
grim set to his jaw belying his casual tone.

"A
few," Marshall told him. "No doubt it will be grow over the next few
days. Why?"

"No
reason." Alan's dark, exotic features were unreadable.

"I
must admit, I do like the idea of buying a pretty little thing to torment and
tease the way
I
want to for a couple
of days," Dominick growled.

"How
exactly is that different to what you do on a daily basis?" Trevor countered.

"Simple.
Money always changes things. A real s-type would have an extremely hard time
saying 'no' when she knows the Top has paid for what he's doing to her.
Especially if it's a decent amount of cash. At the very least, she'd stop and
think hard before protesting… it's the ideal example of consensual
non-consent."

"You
have a point there," Trevor was forced to concede. "You'd have to
make sure you got a girl with very few limits though, to make it really worth
your while."

Dominick
turned to Marshall. "Is there any way we'll be able to find out limits
ahead of time?"

"The
current plan is to hand out some sort of program at the door, along with a
small gift; maybe a commemorative paddle or something," the blond Master
replied. "The pamphlet will list the participating submissives—by
their pseudonyms, of course—their number in the line-up, and their hard
limits. The full file will only be given to the winning bidder when he or she
makes payment."

"Fair
enough." Dominick sighed. "I'll agree to be a plant, then."
Leaning back in his chair, he folded his hands behind his head.

It
had been a quiet few weeks for him, and he was growing restless. Dominick was
the Dungeon Master, the Master Gaoler, the man renowned for making
women—and some men—run screaming from his dark, menacing chambers.
Often he was asked to do just that… threaten excruciating and severe
punishments to recalcitrant slaves, who bolted back to their Masters and
Mistresses before he'd even raised his notorious bullwhip, promising to be on
their best behavior if only they didn't have to submit to the burly, terrifying
figure in the dungeon. He enjoyed it; and it wasn't difficult to act the part,
for he was a deep, dark sexual sadist at heart. The only problem was that it
was rare that he actually got to follow through. Making threats was like
foreplay, he mused.
And weeks and weeks
of foreplay is frustrating as all hell if you don't get your rocks off at some
point afterward
. He was so deep in thought it was a moment before he
realized someone was talking to him.

"Sorry,
I was miles away. Yes?" Dominick turned to the new in-staff Masters, Eric
and Reeve. They were still in training; Marshall was anal about making sure his
Dominant staff had learned all they could about all aspects of BDSM before they
were actually allowed to play with real guests. A lot of that learning was done
hands-on, with the established Masters guiding, teaching and testing the
newbies.

"Breath
play," Eric said. "We've done the class but we need more practice
sessions. We were wondering whether you had any free time."

"It's
a tricky one," Dominick mused. "Lots of people are terrified of it. I
guess you could always practice on each other. I'd be happy to supervise."

Eric
and Reeve exchanged nervous glances. "But… we're Tops!" Reeve said,
incredulously.

"We're
men!" Eric added.

Everyone
else in the room chuckled. Dominick merely raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"So…
I thought we'd practice on girls."

"You're
not allowed to practice on guests, are you?" Without waiting for a response,
Dominick continued. "So unless any of these lovely Ladies present would
like to volunteer… it's each other or nothing."

Hope
flaring in their eyes, Eric and Reeve glanced at Kaylee, Sara, Chelsea, Hannah,
Sinclair and Selena in turn. As one, the girls shook their heads, to the
delighted amusement of the other Masters sitting around the table.

"Besides,"
Dominick said, reaching out to pour himself a glass of water, "the best
way to learn anything is by experience. You both have necks and lungs, don't you?
We've all tried things out on each other—or ourselves. How could I
possibly claim to be an authority on the bullwhip if I didn't know, first-hand,
what it feels like? He," he pointed at Trevor, "likes to set girls on
fire. You think he's never tried it on himself?"

"Actually,
he tried it on me," Travis said, grinning. "Took all the hair off my
arm. Much easier on freshly waxed skin." He wrinkled his nose.
"Smells better, too."

Ignoring
the bellows of laughter, Dominick nodded. "I think you'll find," he
once again addressed the two newest Masters, "that Marshall here will
never let you loose amongst the guests unless you've experienced what being on
the receiving end of most things we do feels like."

"Correct,"
Marshall said, his pale blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

"So
come see me at four this afternoon, and I'll spend an hour or so watching you
both strangle each other."

"Oh,"
Selena gasped, wiping the mirth from her eyes, "I would love to see that.
May I, please, Sir?" she asked, turning to Bill.

"No!"
Eric and Reeve said in unison.

"Christ,"
Selena went on, still giggling, "It looks like we now have two sets of
twins!"

Eric
and Reeve both glared at her. "We're not related," they said, in
identical offended tones, to more shrieks of laughter.
 

"All
right, bugger off you lot, we have a Castle to run," Marshall said,
lightly. "You know where I am if you need me."

As
Dominick drained his water and got up from the table, he couldn't repress a
sudden surge of hope that today would be the day where a pretty little painslut
came barging into the dungeon, threw herself at his feet and begged him to make
her suffer in all the ways he enjoyed the most. Alas, he was well aware of how
unlikely that was. Instead he would be doing what he usually did… supervising
guests' scenes, teaching people how to exert control and deliver pain safely,
being held up as the Bogeyman for naughty slaves—and now, watching two
ex-soldiers choke each other.
Don't be so
fucking ungrateful
, he told himself sternly.
You love this place and you love your job. Even if you don't get to
play out your own twisted fantasies all the time, this is a million times
better than any other place you've ever worked
. At the memory of his last
desk job, he suppressed a shudder and, squaring his shoulders, set off back to
his room to get changed into his dungeon attire.

Janice
was toying with the froth on top of her Mocha, only half-listening as Ellen
chattered away opposite her in the staff break room.
His eyes are the same colour
, she thought, stirring the rich, brown
liquid. Just the memory of that intensely dark gaze settling on her was enough
to send a tendril of wanton longing snaking to her loins. Unable to stop
herself, she shivered.

"All
right, spill it, girlfriend," Ellen reached out and tapped Janice's hand.
"Who is it?"

"Who's
who?"

"Don't
play all coy with me. You've got a crush on someone. You have for weeks."

Janice
took a huge gulp of Mocha to hide her surprise, then winced when it burned her
tongue. "What makes you say that?" she spluttered.

"I'd
be a pretty crappy best friend if I didn't notice something that obvious,"
Ellen countered, tossing her long, glossy hair over one shoulder. "And I
meant what I said earlier. Either you tell me what's going on in that pretty
little head of yours, or I'll find a way to make you."

"You
wouldn't dare!"

"Oh,
really?" Ellen raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Try me."

"It's
not a crush," Janice muttered. "It's… it's hard to describe."

 
"Try me," Ellen said again.

"Oh
for fuck's sake. Fine. God, it's like being friends with a member of the
Spanish Inquisition."

"Nah."
Ellen grinned. "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition."

Janice
laughed. Their mutual love of everything
Monty
Python
was one of many things the two girls had in common—which was
why they had clicked instantly; becoming fast friends almost the very day Ellen
had started to work at the Salon, across the way from where Janice worked in
Wardrobe.

 
"So it's not a crush. But I wasn't
far off, was I? Tell me!"

Janice
took a deep breath. "Remember a few weeks ago, when you were away visiting
your relatives?"

"Yes…"

"Well,
I had a day off. And I was bored. So I thought I'd head down to the dungeon to
watch a scene or two. See some of my handiwork in action, so to speak…"

"Yeah,"
Ellen rolled her eyes. "That's why you went down there. To look at the
costumes."

"Shut
up," Janice said, grinning. "Okay, so it wasn't just to look at the
costumes. Like I said earlier; it's been a while since I last played, and I
thought I'd take the opportunity to… oh I don't know, live vicariously through
someone else."

"In
other words, you were feeling horny."

Janice
blushed. "I guess."

"Nothing
to be ashamed of. We don't stop having needs and desires just because we work
here. Go on!"

"I
watched a scene there and realized just how much I've been missing it… the
pain, the pleasure, the lack of control… all of it." Janice shrugged.
"That's all."

"Who
was playing?"

"Does
it matter?"

"To
me it does. You know I'm notoriously curious. Okay then, was it the scene
itself or the participants tickling your fancy?"

Janice
shrugged again. "Bit of both, I suppose."

"What
were they doing?"

"Break
time is over." Janice pointed at the huge clock on the staff room wall.
"Anyway, what they were doing isn't important. It just… oh, I don't know.
I kind of had a breakthrough; realized that there's something I really, really
want to try."
And exactly the man
I'd like to try it with.