STORY EXCERPT

Emma’s eyes widened as she followed her best friend, Ben Orsini, and his Dom and boss, Leigh Braxton, into The Black Iris Club’s foyer. They were on the twentieth floor of the JDB Building on the corner of Broward Boulevard and Federal Highway. It was a beautiful, tall white building that she had driven by a million times. Who knew that there was a luxurious, private BDSM club in the penthouse? Leigh had offered to ask his friend and the owner of The Black Iris Club, Jack Dalton Brown, if she could come into the club to observe in the hope of giving her erotic romance books, written under the pen name of Skye Mathews, a more authentic flavor. Jack had approved the visit and now she was about to sign her confidentiality documents.

“Close your mouth, girlie, before you start catching flies.” Ben was such a smartass. Emma retaliated with a sharp elbow to his midsection as Leigh stood back and laughed at them.

“You two are like a couple of rowdy siblings.”

The good-looking receptionist standing behind the elegant mahogany reception desk had a manila folder of documents ready for Emma to sign. “Good evening, Dr. Braxton, Ben. Ms. Johnson, I have your paperwork here.”

Emma looked through the documents briefly. “Glad to see there’s no bill of sale for my first born in here.”

“Don’t worry. It’s in the fine print. Sign already so we can go and have some fun.” Ben was almost vibrating with excitement.

“Why don’t we have a drink at the bar so Emma can take a look around the dungeon? Only one drink for you, subbie, since we’ll be taking a tour of the Dungeon theme room later tonight.”

“The dungeon, Master?” Ben sounded a little nervous.

“Yes, the dungeon. I think it’s time for you to broaden your horizons.” Leigh had an evil grin on his handsome face. That made Emma smile. The tall, blond, blue-eyed, gorgeous Leigh was the kindest man, a top-notch plastic surgeon who did a lot of pro bono work on children with cleft lips and palates. She had to admire that. If he occasionally spanked Ben’s butt, oh well. Ben, Leigh’s head surgical nurse, had wavy dark hair and dark brown eyes. Ben was the most beautiful man Emma had ever seen. They had been best friends since middle school.

Once in the main dungeon, Emma turned full circle and checked out the various stations lit by recessed spots in the high, industrial ceiling. After they were seated on comfortable leather bar stools next to the beautifully polished, hammered-brass bar and drinks had been ordered, she said, “God, Ben, this place is gorgeous. I had a slightly tackier picture in my mind.”

“Don’t forget this is a very high-end private club open to members and their guests only. You won’t find places like this everywhere.” Leigh nodded his thanks to the bartender and took a small sip of his scotch on the rocks.

Leigh had explained that the club was owned by the well-known Fort Lauderdale entrepreneur, Jack Dalton Brown. His wedding to Broward Sheriff’s Department homicide detective, Kaylin Gallagher, at the newly renovated Black Dahlia Hotel on Christmas Eve had been widely covered by local media. What had not been covered was the super luxurious private BDSM club on the top floor of the hotel.

Brown and his wife stepped up to the bar and were handed cold bottles of water. Jack turned to Leigh and both shook hands and clasped each other in a bro hug. “Good to see you, Leigh. It’s been too long. Kaylin, you may greet our guests.” Kaylin stepped up and gave a small bow from the waist, to Leigh first, and then to Ben and Emma. “We’ve been working on her protocol. Kaylin is a homicide cop, and believe me, submission does not come naturally. But subbie is trying. Unfortunately, I don’t have to smack her butt for infractions nearly as often as I used to.” Kaylin gave him a smoldering glare. “That look will earn you three when we retire to the theme room later, subbie. In the meantime, why don’t you show Emma around?”

“Yes, Master. Come along, Emma. There’s lots to show you.”

* * * *

Emma slipped off the bar stool and followed Kaylin as she moved off on a circuit of the main dungeon. “Will he really punish you for just a look?”

“Oh, don’t let Jack scare you. He’s more bluster than bite, although I have gotten more than what I think is my fair share of spankings since we became a couple.” Kaylin grinned. “I use the glare to keep him in line. He has no idea that I really like the feel of a smart smack on the ass every now and then. If he knew, he’d be doing it constantly, and it wouldn’t be as much fun. He very rarely really punishes me—only if he thinks I’m not being careful with what he says belongs to him. Namely, myself.”

“I’m a writer. Although I’ve written several BDSM books, attended conferences and seminars, and done tons of reading, I’ve never actually participated. I feel that I should experience some of the stuff I write about at least once.”

“Well, if you have a good imagination and a dirty mind, you should be able to figure it out. But if you want to have some hands-on experience, I’m sure there are a few Doms here who would like to take you out for a spin. You are a submissive, right?  I wouldn’t want to make an incorrect assumption.”

“Yes, I guess I would be a sub. I can’t imagine being a Domme. Maybe I could give it a try…I’m a little scared, as well as excited.” Actually, Emma felt as though her insides had turned to jelly.

“That’s only normal. When I started out, I was scared to death. I was very attracted to Jack, but he was still a possible suspect in a serial murder case. Although I was sure, almost from the beginning, that he wasn’t involved, Del, my partner, was sure it was him. My BDSM experience started out as part of an undercover assignment on that case, and I ended up married to Jack.”

ADULT EXCERPT

Emma stood aside as Connor input a code on the key pad next to the mahogany doors. When the doors opened he ushered her in with one hand on the small of her back. She looked around but didn’t see the dungeon equipment she had been expecting. Instead she saw a gym with a Bowflex tread climber machine, an old-style rowing machine, and a weight bench. Along one wall was a countertop with a sink, small refrigerator, and a microwave.

Connor pointed to a paneled section of the wall with built-in mahogany cabinets on each side. “That’s a Murphy Bed, in case I want to sleep in here for any reason. The room is multi-purpose and doubles as my gym.” Then he folded back the beautifully carved, mahogany bi-fold doors to reveal the dungeon portion of the large room. And there was what she had expected to see—the St. Andrew’s cross, chains, spanking benches, and a couple of items that were just confusing. A pegboard affixed to the wall held whips, paddles, crops and other impact toys, and an apothecary type chest of drawers on one side apparently contained the other necessary supplies. “The walls and ceiling are sound-proof and constructed of reinforced concrete. There’s a panic button and telephone, as well as an exhaust system to filter the air.”

“Are you expecting the end of the world, Sir?”

Connor laughed. “No, but I’m not a fan of public hurricane shelters. This property is actually several feet above sea level and very high for this area. All the windows are high-impact hurricane glass. It should not be necessary to evacuate except in the most extreme of storms.”

Emma thought that was all a little strange. The whole safe room thing was a little strange. There had not been any severe storms in the area for several years. People just generally battened down and then made plans to take their pets and stay with friends or family on the west side of town or in a hotel if necessary. “It’s all very well-organized and efficient, Sir.”

“Do you want to take it for a spin?”

Did she? Did she want to take Connor Bailey for a spin? Oh, absolutely. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

“Very good. You can hang your clothes in the cabinet. Strip and assume the slave position.” She knew she got a little snarky look on her face at the abrupt command and tried to dial it down. I have to look at this as an educational opportunity. It will make me a better writer. Emma pulled her sweater over her head, and pushed her jeans down to her ankles before she stepped out of them and her shoes. Oh, no. The Victoria’s Secret underwear. “Next time you come here, do not wear underwear. I’ll let it slide this time since I had not made that a formal order, and you can’t be expected to read my mind. Take them off.” His Dom face and lowered voice were stern. She hurried to comply and was now naked and feeling very vulnerable.

“Here are a few more rules. When we are in a scene, you will only speak when asked a direct question. You will not whine and complain or make snarky comments. You will obey orders immediately and without comment. You will not come without my express verbal permission. If you have an issue with anything, we will discuss it. I don’t want small problems to become big problems. Communication is everything. You will acknowledge orders with a ‘yes, Sir’ or a ‘no, Sir’ so that I know you heard and understood. Failure to abide by the rules will earn you punishment points, said points to be redeemed by me at my option and convenience.” Oh, there it is. The lawyer is coming out. “I see a snarky comment on the tip of your tongue. You would be wise to swallow it back down and reserve that tongue for my pleasure, sub.”

“Yes, Sir.” Yikes. This might get a tad intense if I don’t watch myself. Emma folded her clothes and put them in the cabinet with her shoes. Apparently Sir liked things neat. She knelt down in the slave position she had seen on the internet and at the club. Connor adjusted her legs wider. God, she was all out there. Thank goodness she had trimmed her pussy and it wasn’t a wild bush. Emma started to grin, and then forced it back. She wouldn’t want to have to explain why she was smiling.

“Okay, sub, this is how this is going to work. When we come into the dungeon, you will undress and get into position. I will kiss your wrists before putting on your cuffs and adjusting them. Then you will kiss my palms, and I will give you your greeting spanking.” Greeting spanking? WTF, every time? “Do you have something to say, sub?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good. Trust me.” He fastened the sheepskin lined wrist and ankle cuffs he’d taken off the pegboard, and checked them carefully for fit. He kissed her wrists and offered his palms for her kiss as well. “You’ll learn to look forward to your greeting spanking.” He walked over to a straight back chair along the wall and sat down. “Over my lap, sub.” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her an expectant look. Could she do this? “Don’t make me give an order twice, sub.” Emma cautiously approached him and lay down across his knees. He didn’t yank her down, but waited for her to follow his order. This is embarrassing, but that must be part of the submission thing. Once she was in position, he reached down and began to knead her butt cheeks before he kissed each one. She didn’t know if she could do this. She wanted to jump up and scoot away. And then he smacked first one cheek and then the other in a flurry of only slightly stinging slaps.

“This is a greeting not a punishment. If I give you a punishment spanking, it will be much harder.” When he was finished, he turned her around and pulled her up into his lap. “See, that wasn’t so bad.” He hugged her up against his chest and kissed the top of her head.

“Yes, Sir. I mean no, Sir.” Actually, she didn’t know what she meant. What he’d said was true. The spanking had not been as hard as the one he’d given her at the club for wearing underwear against orders. It was also true that her pussy had begun to tingle and she felt herself get wet—really wet, and her clit had started to vibrate. A blush began to rise on her face. Emma hated to blush. It was just an indication that she was not in control of the situation. Duh. Well of course I’m not in control. I’m the sub. She leaned back against his naked chest and tried to relax. His strong arms around her were nice, and she felt the tension whoosh out of her body.