The Gingerbread Dungeon (7 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Thorne

BOOK: The Gingerbread Dungeon
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“What are you doing here?” The deep voice that questioned her dripped with scorn.

“I want that,” Anna said almost to herself. “I’m here because I want that.”

The voice snorted in laughter. “Well you aren’t going to find it here. This is a place for men.” 

“But…” Anna hated the hopeful tone that permeated her voice. It made her feel vulnerable.

“You’re not wanted here.” The handsome black man blocking her path picked her up, turned her around, and pointed her towards the door. “Get out.”

“Pearson, I thought you of all people would be above that sort of blind intolerance.” The clear baritone voice rang out from behind where Anna stood, and as her captor stepped away she looked back to see a large golden-haired man with a full beard approaching from beside the bar. “If she’s here for the right reasons, perhaps we should let her stay.”

“Are you here for the right reasons?” he asked, putting a finger under her chin and tilting her head up so that she looked him in the eyes.

Anna found herself uncharacteristically speechless as she stared up into the pale blue eyes of the robustly handsome man whose strength and grace made her think of a lion.

“Morden,” Pearson interjected, “there’s no way a little bit of a thing like that could handle what we do here. She claims she wants it, but what does she know.”

“What is it that you think we can give you, girl?” Morden asked, not taking his eyes from Anna’s face. “What were you looking for when you came here?”

Anna turned her head to scan left side of the room. “When I came in, I was just looking for pain and sex, maybe a little fun. I thought it would be interesting to be used as a curiosity rather than to have access to my body seen as a status symbol. I was hoping for a little fantasy fulfillment. I thought it would be hot to try and get someone to give me what I want.” She paused.

“And now?” Morden stepped up close behind her so that his hands were engulfing her shoulders, and she could feel the heat of his body looming above her.

“I think you can give me discipline.” As Anna heard the words come out of her mouth, it was the first time that she realized discipline might be something she’d want.

 “Let her stay,” Morden said, and then he walked back to the bar to speak with a handsome, blonde young man who looked enough like him to be his son, leaving both Anna and Pearson staring in shock.

After her initial disbelief wore off, Pearson stalked away and Anna walked to the rail that separated the two halves of the bar to try and figure out why the word
discipline
had gotten stuck in her head… and why she suddenly thought that something so antithetical to her character might actually be something she’d want.

On the surface, other than the fact that the players involved were all men, the scene spread out before her didn’t seem all that different than a particularly busy evening at The Satyr’s Staff. Looking around the room, she could see men beating each other with whips, binding each other with chains, having sex, and exploring various torments with clips and candles. Nothing unusual.

Just then, she saw a flash of light as a young man, dressed in only a pair of black leather pants, sparked a match to light an older man’s pipe before fading discretely into the background. That’s when she realized what she was seeing that was different – a subtle impression of order. In some way she couldn’t quite describe, the men in the Eagle – young, old, and in between – seemed to have a clear sense of how they fit into the smoky, sex-scented scene.

The more she looked, the more Anna realized that that sense wasn’t just confined to individual couples. There were hints that the whole population of the bar fit into definable social roles, the same way that they would in the world outside. Only, unlike in the world outside, these roles didn’t seem based on accidents or fortunes of birth.

Yes, many of the men in the bar were of a similar physical type, brawny and strong, but there were examples of other types. She saw young, slender men with the smooth skin of nobility, men with thick muscles and wary eyes who were clearly soldiers, and even a few older gentlemen who she suspected were merchants from the cut of their clothes. What they had in common was that they all wore leather, and they all seemed to belong.

No matter how much fun Anna had had at the Satyr’s Staff, no matter how great the sex had been, she’d never felt like she was part of something bigger. She’d enjoyed herself immensely, but it hadn’t been a place of consequences. That was why she’d always felt like she had to try for something new, something more extreme, every time she’d had the chance to visit. She didn’t think that would fly at the Eagle. They might tolerate a short blonde in a pink dress. They wouldn’t be amused by an attention grabbing scene – at least not if that was the scene’s only purpose.

Who would have imagined that I’d want this?
Anna thought to herself as she looked around the room, alternatively overwhelmed by longing and thrown back by hostile glances that told her she was intruding in a place where she was not truly welcome.
It didn’t matter what Morden had said.
There’s no way that they’d ever let me stay. Not really. They might let me watch, but I’d never be a part of it. I’d never actually belong.

Until walking into The Eagle, Anna had always been able to count on her body and her beauty to make her welcome, but it was clear that her most trusted currency would not buy her a place among these men. Realizing she had nothing to rely on but her character and her desire, and abruptly feeling confident in neither, her courage deserted her. Suddenly she couldn’t stand the feeling of being so close to what she wanted while fearing that she’d never be able to have it, and she turned and fled out the door.

“I knew you wouldn’t last, Goldie,” the bouncer called out to her as she started to walk quickly back down the village streets towards her home. “You don’t look so feisty…”

His words cut off abruptly, but Anna didn’t look back until she heard the sound of running footsteps and a tenor voice calling, “Goldie, wait!”

She kept walking. It was the tall young man who Morden had been speaking with at the bar, and she suddenly wasn’t certain she was going to be able to talk to him without bursting into tears.

When he caught up with her, he was slightly out of breath, and he grabbed her by the wrist to keep her from going any further. “Goldie,” he panted, “is that your name?”

“No,” Anna replied, shaking off his hand and continuing to walk back towards home.

“Then why…” the young man talked while he followed her. “I guess it was the hair. It is awfully memorable. Brandon likes to give people nicknames. It suits you, Goldie.”

Anna spun around to look at the young man, stopping so suddenly that he ran straight into her and had to hold her by the shoulders to keep them both from falling over.

“Anna,” she said. “I’m Anna, and why do you care?”

“Nicknames are a tradition at the Eagle, I’m Greg.”

“Greg?” Anna raised her eyebrow. “Some nickname.”

“Oh that’s not my nickname.” He blushed. “They call me Baby Bear.”

Anna couldn’t help herself. She snickered.

“I know! But when Morden became my Daddy it just happened. He’s such an archetypical bear. It was worse for Heinrich I suppose,” Greg paused. “His nickname used to be Spike, but now everyone’s calling him Momma Bear. You should have seen the look on his face when Morden handed him that gingham apron…”

He started to crack up, but stopped when he saw the expression on Anna’s face. “He didn’t mind,” Greg reassured her, “not really. We weren’t being mean, and it really does sort of suit him.”

“It’s not that,” Anna said wistfully. “It’s that you make it sound like you’re a family.”

“We are a family!” Greg said. “A leather family. Momma Bear, Papa Bear, and little old Baby Bear.” He gestured to his tall, lanky frame.

“It’s nice that you get to have that,” Anna said, hating the envy she heard in her voice, and turned to continue on her way.

Greg grabbed her arm one more time and pushed a folded piece of paper into her hand. “Those are directions for how to get to the cottage where we live. Morden said I should tell you to stop by sometime.” Then he spun on his heel and jogged back towards the bar.

****

It was several days later when Anna knocked on the bears’ cottage door. The door swung open in front of her, and she had stepped inside before she realized the house was deserted. Looking around, she saw a pleasant room with three plush chairs, three leather foot stools, a table with four chairs but only three place settings, and a set of stairs leading up to a loft.

Anna’s first though was that she should leave and come back later, but it had been a long walk after an even longer day, and so she decided to just sit and wait instead. When she flopped down on the first chair, a red corduroy lounger, the cushions were so soft that she felt like she might get swallowed up whole. Climbing out was actually a chore, and she sat more gingerly on the next chair – a black leather recliner – but the seat was strangely hard and uncomfortable so she moved on to the third chair. That one was a soft, suede chair-and-a-half, and it was so welcoming that Anna curled up into a ball and soon fell right asleep.

She woke up to the feel of cold water dripping on her forehead, and the sound of Greg’s voice saying, “Someone’s been sleeping in my chair.”

Opening her eyes, she saw three men looking down at her – Morden, Greg, and a short, round man with black spiked hair who she assumed was Mama Bear.
Heinrich?
Greg was holding a cold cloth above her head, which was the source of the drip.

“Um…” Anna started to stand up, but then she realized that there was no room to do so. “Your door was open?”

“So you came in and made yourself at home?” Heinrich looked at Morden and sighed. “I can’t believe you invited such a rude little girl over to visit.” His voice sounded particularly disgusted with the word
girl
.

 “You really don’t make things easy for yourself, do you?” Morden looked down at Anna with dismay. “Goldie, meet Heinrich. Heinrich, meet Goldie.”

“Pleased to meet you?” Anna held out her hand hesitantly.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Heinrich said and then stomped over and began clearing the plates from the table.

“Your turn.” Morden looked at Greg and gestured with his head towards where Heinrich was vigorously cleaning the spotless table.

“But…” Greg started to object and then subsided when Morden’s look morphed into a glare. “Yes, Daddy.”

Anna watched as Greg walked over to Heinrich and started to talk to him. Heinrich started to shrug him off, but then Greg started nibbling at his neck, making the shorter man smile. In short order, Greg had Heinrich by the hand and was leading him up the stairs and away.

“Maybe I should go…” Anna started to stand up.

“Sit.”

There was an air of command in Morden’s voice that Anna could not ignore. She sat.

Morden paced fitfully around the room.

“When you noticed we were out, you couldn’t have left and come back another time?” He glared at Anna, making her shrink back in the seat. “Of course you couldn’t. You’re long on balls but short on sense. How else would you have the guts to walk into The Eagle, stare at the men there like they were everything your heart desired and talk of discipline? Why, why do I never get stuck with the easy ones? I guess there’s nothing for it then but to go about this the traditional way.”

Morden stopped in front of the chair when she sat and looked straight at her.

“Get on your knees,” he said.

Anna was so shocked that she couldn’t move.

“You want discipline? Then get on your knees.” Morden picked her up by her hair and dropped her onto the floor where she scrambled to follow his commands.

“Not like that! Back straight. Knees apart. Hands behind your head.” He jerked Anna’s body into position until it suited him and then just stood there and looked at her for a moment as she struggled to stay just as she had been placed.

“You can walk out at any time,” Morden said as he paced around her, occasionally hitting her with the slender rattan stick he’d pulled out of the container standing beside the door in order to adjust her position closer to one that pleased him. “But if you do, that’s it. Discipline means that you respect your elders and you do as you are told. Do you understand? If you do, the correct answer is, ‘Yes, sir.’”

“Yes, sir! I understand, sir.”

“You will do anything I, or either of the other members of this family asks of you. If you are not physically capable of completing a request or think that complying will cause you damage you will say the word ‘Peppermint.’ That is your safe word. No other refusal will be listened to. Do you accept those terms?”

“Yes sir, I do sir.” Anna was surprised to realize that she was less afraid of the rules than excited by them. She’d always had so many choices to make, it was oddly restful to realize that while she was with the bears she only had to do what they asked. She wondered what that would be.

“Then pull up your skirt, and bend over this stool.” He kicked one of the low stools in front of her so that when Anna bent over, her chest was supported but her ass was in the air.

Anna felt Morden come up behind her and push her skirts further up on her back. She was naked beneath them, and the feeling of the cold air on her bare skin made her shiver in anticipation.

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