In Training (12 page)

Abby watched his face. His expression of mild annoyance moved into incredulity, then smoothed into a blank expression that caused her neck hair to shiver a warning. Seth's body tightened beneath her hand. With a voice that had turned graveyard cold he said, "Repeat that," into the phone.

The swirl of angry energy in his aura leeched a lot of courage from Abby's heart. "Master," she whispered, "what's wrong?"

Seth didn't answer her. Instead, he pushed her off his lap and got to his feet. A muscle on his jaw ticked. "Fine," he said. "I'll be there in thirty."

The call ended.

Seth pulled on his jacket, pronounced, "Gotta go," and then did exactly that.

Liz called four times that morning. Unfortunately, she did so after Abby's workday had started, so all of the calls went unanswered until break time. Sitting down in the employee lounge, Abby nursed a cup of peppermint tea and finally called Liz's number. The phone was answered on the second ring.

"Abby! My God," said Liz in a rush. "There's no way I believe it."

"Believe what?"

She slipped off her heels and wiggled her toes. High heels were of the devil. Men should be forced to wear them, along with pantyhose, since they found it so damned important for women to do so in the workplace.
Then we'd see how long they'd last, wouldn't we? Wait, didn't men used to wear high heels? Victorian Age, maybe? They didn't exist now, did they?
That should say something about the comfort of high heels.

"But if someone asked her who was capable of such a thing, I would have to say Seth."

The comment pulled Abby from her thoughts about high heels. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

A delicate pause hummed over the phone. "You don't know?"

Suddenly concerned, Abby set down her cup of tea. "Know what? Did something happen to Seth?"

"When was the last time you talked to him?"

"Seth? Last night. He left in a rush. Dear God, did he have an accident?" Shoving aside the cup, she snatched up her purse and scrambled for paper and a pen. She tucked the phone between her chin and shoulder and prepared to write. "What hospital is he in?"

"Calm down, Abby. Seth is fine. However, Annabel is not, if we can believe kennel chatter."

Setting the pen down and rescuing the phone from its precarious position, she reached for her tea with a hand that shook. Confusion replaced the sudden terror. "Who is Annabel?"

"A Jezebel if you ask me." Liz sniffed. "She's a cold-blooded bitch Seth trained about a year ago. You met her at the Dungeon Romp. Mike tossed her and her master from our table. Remember?"

Okay, she got that Annabel was Goth Chick, but the rest of the topic remained muddled. "Annabel is not okay? What's that got to do with Seth?"

"Let me backtrack. Last year, that bitch came into the community. Of course, Seth trained her. That's what he does." Liz paused to sip something on her end. She resumed the conversation after swallowing. "He graduated her, yes, but said Annabel needed a ruthless master if she was to develop into a worthwhile slave. She had her eyes on Jeremy, though, unfortunately for him."

"Oh?"

"All she wanted was his money. Jeremy is not what anyone would call ruthless, but he is a moneybags man here in Portland. Seth advised against the collaring. They both ignored his advice. Things progressed into the train wreck Seth expected, and you witnessed at the romp. She's a cold-blooded, material bitch. Did I mention that?"

Frustration nearly made Abby bang the phone against the table. "Yes, you did, but how does that relate to last night?"

"Well, Annabel got into Jeremy's bank accounts--that pussy-whipped jerk caved in to her demands, no doubt. He was warned not to be lenient, but whatever. She's been spending Jeremy into the poor house ever since."

Liz sounded gruesomely cheerful relating the story, but it hadn't been any kind of answer. "Not good, but what does that have to do with last night?" she repeated.

Liz laughed. "Rumor has it Jeremy put some fertilizer on his gonads and grew a pair. He told her to give up the cards. She refused. He threatened punishment, even the possibility of releasing her from his collar, but she laughed and told him he didn't have the balls, which, for the past two years, has been true."

"Wait. I'm confused. Isn't Jeremy the short, bald guy? I'm sure he has..." A quick flick of her gaze proved she was not alone in the lounge. "Well, that he has the necessary tools. And, besides, I thought a"--she caught herself before she violated any obscure codicils of HR's professional conduct policy--"was to obey, period. That was my understanding."

"Seth's trained you well. The problem is that Jeremy is no Seth. Annabel has Jeremy by the short hairs, and we all know it. And she's spending. Cha-ching!"

The situation began to clarify. "Ouch."

"Feeling the pinch from his credit card companies, he confronted her. At her refusal, he called Seth, needing help to deal with her."

"Ah, last night's phone call." She was on the conversational track now. Maybe.

"Understand that Seth's stayed out of this cluster-fuck. He says Jeremy made his choice and the like whenever the topic comes up at meetings and munches. Mike has the same opinion."

Abby nodded. "'Man up and deal with it.' Seth-speak for sure."

"Close enough, but get this." Liz's voice dropped to a conspiracy-quiet rumble. "Rumor has it Annabel laughed and told Seth--on that very phone call--he didn't have the balls either to force her to give up the cards."

"Couldn't Jeremy just take her name off the accounts?"

"Not the point, sweetie."

"Ah." It all began to make sense now.

"Anyway," Liz continued, still morbidly cheerful as she related the story, "she allegedly laughed at Seth and told him on the phone to, 'Make me.'"

"Oh, shit," Abby said, then was forced to wave an apologetic hand at colleagues who turned her way and frowned. Hunching into her seat, she dropped her volume and continued her conversation. "He was not happy when he left my place." She retrieved the mug and brought it to her mouth.

"So, a very pissed-off Seth showed up at Jeremy's house. Pouting and temper tantrums are the usual crap delivered from pampered slaves. Pillow Princesses they're called, and both Mike and Seth have no love for the breed. I don't either, if truth be told."

The tea in her hand had cooled. "Topping from the bottom?"

"Exactly, but this is where story takes a turn into crazy town. Are you sitting down?"

"Liz." Abby gave a warning hiss.

"Either Seth broke a chair and used one of its legs to beat her into submission or he locked her in a cage on her knees, until she gave up the cards. Or"--another one of Liz's weighty pauses--"both."

The story took a few moments to clarify in her brain. Such brutality from the man who'd so tenderly wiped the sweat and tears from her face last night? That just couldn't be the same man. "I...I can't believe..."

"Didn't I mention there's a side of Seth you don't want to meet? It's what makes him such a good trainer. Well, alongside his no-complications thing."

She struggled to make the leap, mentally trying to reconcile this story with the Seth she knew, and just couldn't make the connection. "But surely she used her safe word?"

"There is no safe word with Seth, sweetie. He uses a terminating signal when he takes on a slave's training. Well, usually he does...unless you have different information?"

Abby ignored the question. "But why wouldn't she use it? I mean--God, a chair leg?"

"This wasn't a scene, Abby," said Liz. "It was a pissing contest between Annabel and Seth."

It had become brutally clear. Different rules, she recalled. "Because she'd already won dominance over Jeremy?"

"Exactly, which is why I called you. Since you and Seth are so close these days--"

"Close?"

"I was hoping he'd spoken to you about the alleged happenings at Jeremy's house. Maybe used it as a training example or something."

"'Alleged happenings'? Now you sound like a lawyer."

"No reason to blacken the man's name with a pile of lies. So"--another weighty pause on Liz's side of the conversation--"is it true?"

She'd need to warm up her tea. "Unfortunately, I have no information to give you. I haven't spoken with Seth since he drove off last night. He left in a rush, abandoning his gear on my bedroom floor. That's all I know."

"Well, crap," said Liz, obviously disappointed. "The kennel is dying to know."

"The community kennel?" The one she'd almost been banished from without her knowledge?

"Every single one of us." Liz laughed. "If you get any information, will you let us know?"

"Of course I will, unless he tells me not to share."

"Of course, of course," said Liz. Abby envisioned one of Liz's airy, dismissive hand gestures. "Obey the master is every slave's first rule. Luckily, Seth doesn't bother with kennel gossip. I'm sure it's because he feels gossip is beneath his oh-so-manly concerns."

Abby couldn't miss the laughter in Liz's voice. Well, to be fair, it was some juicy gossip, she reminded herself. Kennel sisters were a girl's best defense from bad Dominants. Seth himself had told her that. Still, he might not be open to having his loss of control broadcast throughout the entire community. But what if it was true?

She needed to think. Was that the kind of master she wanted? Seth was a tasty hunk of man, yes, but what did she really know about him? "My break is over. I've got to go."

"No worries, sweetie. Have a great day. Oh, and this Saturday's munch will be celebratory. Your graduation day is here. Yay."

For her, the day signaled one step closer to losing Seth from her life. She summoned enthusiasm for Liz's sake. "I'm looking forward to it, but I must go now. 'Bye." She ended the call before the threatening tremble in her voice revealed her lie.

She sat the remaining seven minutes of her break thinking about what she'd just learned about Seth. What if it was true? My God, who was this man? Could she trust her heart and body to Seth? What would it be like to be collared by a man like him? Disaster or ecstasy, but neither option guaranteed safety.

Friday evening, Seth arrived late. A cold spring wind ushered him inside as it fluttered his hair and the hem of her robe. Closing the door behind him, he barely glanced her way as he stepped around her kneeling form. Tossing his jacket onto the couch, he headed down the hall to her bedroom.

"Follow, girl."

She obeyed.

He twitched aside the bedcovers, toed off his sneakers, and tugged his T-shirt over his head. Dropping it beside his shoes, he then collapsed onto the bed with a loud groan. The bed protested with a squeak of springs.

He took up a considerable amount of landscape on her bed, even more so when he began to stretch. He groaned and stretched
,
offering Abby a lovely exhibition of male muscle and skin. Eventually, he looked her way.

"Undress."

She did, letting her scarlet robe slip off her shoulders and pool at her feet. She stood before him, naked and awaiting his next command.

His gaze roved over her body. "Join me."

A wide smile tweaked her cheeks as she crawled into the bed beside him. In short order, she'd tucked herself against his gorgeous, brawny form. His right arm curled around her shoulders and he pulled her closer.

After a few moments, she stirred herself to speak. "Master, I packed away the stuff you left here last Thursday. It's over by the door."

He turned his head and must have spotted the shopping bag full of leather standing beside the door. "Well done, girl," he said.

She shivered her delight, his praise bubbling through her veins like champagne. She tried not to giggle like a tittering teen but...it just came out. Seth didn't seem to mind, though, because his fascinating dimple made an appearance. She twisted in his embrace, pressing her body against his, oh-so-casually making sure her nipple settled close enough to his mouth to be lapped should he feel the desire. He chuckled and made a slow lick around the pleading tip before sucking it into his mouth.

She arched into his touch, sighing her delight, every part of her body tingling as he lipped, suckled and nibbled. He reached with his left hand and found her breast, hefting and squeezing, plumping the breast and making her shiver from the pleasure. All day it had been unseasonably cool, but suddenly Abby felt quite hot.

"I like that you like my boobs," she confessed, shyness trying to tangle her tongue.

"That's good," he said, "because it wouldn't go well for you if you didn't like me touching them."

She laughed softly.

Seth traced his hand across her stomach, breasts, and legs, bringing murmurs from her throat. His mouth moved across her breasts, going from one nipple to the other, treating each to his attention and affection. He paused to put his hand to his mouth, wetting one finger and using it to delve into the folds of her pussy...and back out, as he traced her cunt juices across her vulva and thighs.

She shifted restlessly, her breath coming in pants, and lifted her hips from the bed, trying to recapture the sensation of his finger inside her. He obliged her wordless plea by slipping one inside her and working it in and out of her body. Sensation stormed her, a waterfall of brilliantly colored lights and ecstasy. He pulled free and resumed his erotic finger-painting. This happened a time or two or three until without warning--
pop!
His hand slapped down over her clit.

Arousal spun though her body, following a sizzle-path from clit to nipples and winding about her spine. His arousal-moistened finger resumed tracing her skin. He repeated the pattern and the slap, again and then again, each crack of his hand on her clit and labia sending a jolt across her nervous system.

She cried out with each impact, spreading her legs wider and bucking into the sensation. By the time he rolled over, coming to his knees between her thighs, she was on fire. "Oh, please," she urged, "more."

He caught her ankles and put her feet flat on the bed. She barely registered the act, needing someone
--anyone--
to play with her clit. That someone was her and she didn't hesitate. She put her fingers in place and began to rub the nerve-filled lips and the hard nub of her clitoris.