Scarlet Assassin (12 page)

“Oh my god, did you kill him?”

“Lucky for him, no.”

Selene wished she had. Now she had to worry about where she would put him for safekeeping. The club was her only option. Jax would keep an eye on him and knew what to do when he came around. She needed to make her way to the coven and save AJ, if it wasn’t too late.

Chapter Thirteen

Francesca wished she had passed on Dorothy’s taunts, but now she would have to either pay-up or put-up with the spanking. She hadn’t told anyone about the bet and she hoped Dorothy didn’t either. Francesca also hadn’t told Dorothy when she would fulfill her part of the bet. Dorothy gave her a month, but she wanted to get this over as soon as possible. It was bad enough that it was the only thing occupying her mind lately.

According to the paperwork she would be anonymous to the mistress and the patrons. Francesca marked what she absolutely wouldn’t do and marked what she would consider. She even had to write down her safe word so that there was no mistaking what it was. The attendant had passed her the clothing she requested and tied her up. Then she informed Francesca that her mistress would be in to “discipline” her. 

They agreed that proof would be a few strategically placed lash marks upon which Dorothy would pay the hundred dollars. If Dorothy didn’t do it then she owed Francesca two hundred dollars. How could she pass up the chance at two hundred buck for a few minutes of
torture
?

****

“Hey boss, whatcha got there?” Jax tossed his head in the direction of the body slung over Selene’s shoulder.

“A problem.”

Selene was thankful Marshall didn’t weigh more than his slight little frame could carry. Clarissa told her that his name was Marshall. No last name, just Marshall. She didn’t have the heart to tell her what Marshall had relayed before he slipped into unconsciousness. It would freak her out even more if she thought AJ was at the coven, let alone in danger. Now Selene had two more problems besides confirming AJ’s location. Her feeding frenzy had created a situation needing immediate attention and the man slung across her back had to be restrained and kept under guard.

“Want me to take care of your
problem
?”

“I’ll put him in one of the rooms. I don’t think he’s a day walker so a room with some light filtering in will keep him down.”

“I’m glad you’re back, I have a newbie client in need of a mistress.”

Selene stopped dead in her tracks. Did she hear him right? Did he solve her blood lust problem without knowing it? No. In her current condition, she could hurt someone. She’d have to pass on this
little
fix. Newbie night was turning out to be a bigger pain in the ass than she had hoped. It opened up a whole new clientele that had unfortunately read to many mommy porn books. But pain was a color and that color was green, money green and her business was flush with green.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. Find someone else, Jax.”

“She wants a woman, and all the other Doms are busy with clients. I can send her home and tell her to come back another time. No problem.”

Shit
, word of mouth was either the best business promoter or the worst thing for a business. One unsatisfied customer wouldn’t kill her, but she didn’t like the thought that someone would badmouth the Dungeon, either.

“No…let me dump this piece of shit in a room and cleanup. How long has she been waiting?”

“She just signed in and got situated in a room.”

“All right, He’s going in the basement room. Keep the camera live on him. He won’t be coming around anytime soon, but I don’t want him finding a way out and running back to his master. Got it?”

“You got it.”

“Don’t touch him, Jax.”

Jax threw up his hands. “Why would you even think I would lay a hand on a hair on his head? I’m shocked, Selene.” His mock indignation made her want to slap him silly.

“I mean it, Jax. I need him to tell me what’s going on at the coven and he can’t do that if he’s dead.”

Selene humped down the stairs and unceremoniously dumped her cargo on the cement floor. Pulling out her phone, she snapped a picture for later identification, but for now she had a job to do. She tossed a light on and double locked the door without even a second glance and made her way back upstairs. She’d had enough drama for the night and needed to get her head screwed on right if she was about to work.

Selene changed and made her way to the room where her client awaited her introduction into the world of bondage. Flipping through the paperwork she made sure all the T’s were crossed and the I’s dotted before she looked through the peep hole. It would take all she had to control her visceral response to the bondage session, but if she were lucky it would help her work through the sexual urgency coursing through her body.

Looking in she froze. There was no way she was going into that room.

Walking back to the front she found Jax standing at the bar chatting with a woman who looked as if she belonged in a steampunk novel than a bondage club. Why did some people insist on dressing up when coming to the Dungeon? She would never understand the urge of some people to get trussed up, strapped around and sheathed in whatever the flavor of the day was for a night of twisted fetish pleasure. Sure, she knew there was a whole culture surrounding the bondage theme. It just wasn’t her thing. She had no idea why she was so judgmental of those that wanted to be part of that experience. They were who they were, she guessed.

“Jax can I speak to you for a minute?”

“What’s up boss?”

“I can’t do this client.”

Jax shot her a puzzled look and then smiled. “No problem, boss. I’ll take care of it.”

Selene grabbed his bicep, stopping him from coming around the bar. “No, I don’t want you taking care of
it
. Who’s on tonight?”

Jax ticked off names on his fingers, all which under any other circumstances would be capable of giving a newbie their first taste of BDSM. Only this client was different, this client was the woman Selene had just been engaged in daydreaming about.

Fuck me
, she muttered to herself. She couldn’t trust anyone else with this woman. If anything went wrong she’d never forgive herself. What could go wrong? Her Dom’s did this for a living, they wouldn’t be here if they couldn’t control themselves. A pang of jealousy charged through her body at the thought of someone else in charge of Francesca’s first fetish experience.

“Forget it, I’ll take her.”

****

Francesca heard the door to the private room open and then shut.

“Your safe word is tiger? Interesting,” said a voice she could barely hear, her heart was beating so loudly in her ears. She felt a hand slowly trail around her mid-section, ending on her back. “Ready?”

“Yes Mistress,” she whispered as she lowered her head.

“Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you.” The voice tried to reassure her, but she felt like she’d suddenly made a mistake. She tried to control her anxiety with a deep breath and then pushed it out through pursed lips. Francesca was always in control in her life. She controlled her environment even when she did nothing, because wasn’t doing nothing still a control mechanism? Her mind raced as she heard something being dropped on the bench along the wall. Francesca turned towards the noise. She couldn’t quite make out what was happening, but the sound of a metal chain, or at least she thought it was a metal chain, drew closer. Now she’d wished she had more clothing on. In fact, flannel pajamas sounded good right about now, the exact opposite of what she had on, or barely had on. Francesca had decided that if she wanted to experience the total scene she needed to be open what she had witnessed at the Dungeon the night before. The woman on stage wore only a bustier and panties and had sent a surge of electricity through her. She looked…sexy. Francesca never felt sexy, but tonight she wanted to feel it, live it. She would never see the dominatrix again, she had told herself repeatedly as she dressed in her outfit for the night. That alone helped her cinch up the laces of the bustier. Anonymity, complete and total anonymity, was promised in the paperwork. That, and a stupid bet with Dorothy were the only ways she had convinced herself to sign up for this experience.

“You’ve picked an interesting outfit for tonight. Did you decide on this little leather number?”

Francesca nodded.

“It’s very flattering on you.”

Did she just imply I was sexy
?

Francesca felt something warm touch her nipples and then they were pulled and squeezed. A pinch on her nipples almost made her knees buckle, the painful pressure sweet in a way she hadn’t expected. Cold metal swayed against her chest as the chain was pulled and released, slapping her.

Hmm, she groaned.

“Are you all right?” A warm whisper caressed her ear.

“Yes.”

“Yes,
ma’am
. You will always address me as ma’am or mistress. Understand?” The voice firm, continued to breath in her ear as the chain was pulled lightly at first.

“Yes…” A tug on the chain stopped her briefly. “Ma’am.”

“Good girl.”

Francesca felt a burst of wind on her back as she heard the swishing of the flogger being moved back and forth.
SLAP
, small strokes landed on her back and then more as the dominatrix worked the leather instrument back and forth.

“Is that too hard?”

“No.” A harder slap made her wince, not in pain but something different, a tingle of sorts.

“No, Mistress.”

“That’s better,” the woman said as she moved to the front of Francesca.

Slowly, she felt the flogger worked around her body. The sting of the flogging was starting to send tremors through her body. She had been told that endorphins would be released when she was flogged and it was clear the mistress knew the exact amount of pain it would take to release them. She felt her nipples harden against the clamps, sending a painful jolt through her. A sudden gasp and the mistress stopped her flogging.

“Are you all right?”

Cool hands ran down the long welts the flogger had left behind.

“Yes, Mistress,” Francesca said. She felt the woman move into her.

Francesca pushed against the hand that rested on her hip, suddenly embarrassed that she was wishing for a more intimate contact. Automatically, she turned into the hand and shifted towards the mistress. Her body was on a slow burn that wanted to be fully ignited.
It’s the endorphins
, she told herself. Her rational mind tried to take over but her body was on a different path. One of sexual urgency and release.

Without warning the mistress cupped her pubic bone and let her fingers slowly stroke her clit.

“You like this don’t you? I can tell by the way you’re breathing and…” She fingered the fabric barrier. “You’re wet. Very wet.”

Francesca felt herself getting wetter the longer the stroking went on. The slow dance of the mistress’s fingers almost made her come, but she was in control of her body, wasn’t she?

“Would you like to come? I know what you’re thinking. You think you’re a nasty girl for liking this aren’t you?”

When an answer did come, the mistress gradually released the pressure on a nipple clamp and then reapplied it.

“OOO. Yes Mistress please,”

“Please, what?”

“Please, I…I…need to come. If you keep stroking me I’ll come.”

“Then answer my question?” The mistress slid a tongue around Francesca’s ear lobe as she continued to stroke her.

“Yes, I’m ashamed I’ve liked this too much.”

“Well don’t be, enjoy what your body likes. Leave the taboos outside and you’ll enjoy yourself more.” The mistress slipped two fingers inside Francesca and continued to play with the nipple clamps.

“Are you ready Francesca?” Francesca groaned, feeling a tug on the chain that tethered her to the bondage experience.

“Yes, mistress.”

“Good, come for me.” The mistress said, withdrawing her fingers.

Francesca’s body jerked and spasmed in orgasm. The ecstasy intensified as the mistress started to flog her again. Each lash marking her body as if the mistress was claiming it as her own. The nipple clamps were released sending spikes of pain, further stimulating her clit. A cool hand caressed one nipple and a warm tongue caressed the other as she her body shuddered. She felt a warm body behind her, hands claiming her, as the mistress caressed her stomach and thighs, stopping only briefly to pull the binding from her eyes.

Francesca remained still as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room. She wanted to see the woman who had opened a new door in her life, but was frightened to move without receiving permission.

“Our session is over, Francesca.” The mistress said, releasing her.

Francesca waited for further instructions and then it registered she called her by name.
Francesca
. She waited. Nothing followed, so she slowly turned just in time to catch a glimpse her mistress as she left.

Selene.

Chapter Fourteen

AJ barely opened her eyes. She searched for movement in the darkness her but saw nothing in the stark room. Her head throbbed with each push of blood through her veins. Reaching back, she touched the knot resulting from whatever or whoever had hit her from behind. Lying still, she listened for any clue that might tell her where she was. She
was
sure she was still in the coven, but where? What was Butch’s reason for having her cold-cocked? Sitting up almost made her faint as the blood rushed from her head. Nausea washed over her and bile etched its way up her throat.

“Christ,” she whispered. Leaning against the cold cement wall, she shivered. The temperature was cold enough to be a beef locker and she rubbed her arms to warm her cramping muscles. Her messenger bag was gone, along with her phone, and keys. Tapping her slacks she felt the small tin of the new blood capsules she had stuck in her pocket when she left the office, nested safely away from prying eyes. Orienting herself in what seemed to be her prison she saw only a sliver of light slicing beneath the bottom of the door. Walking over to examine the surface, she slid her hand along the smooth metal, finding no door handle. Her fingertips grazed a small square door in the middle of the door. Hinges at the bottom alerted her that at least it could be opened. Fingering the hinge, she bent closer and studied the way it was made. Without anything to use to pry it, she doubted she could open it. Two huge hinges hung the larger door in its frame.