Sybil Disobedience (3 page)

“Are you ready to listen?” he asked.

His quiet words compelled her silence.

“Sybil,” he prompted.

“Yes,” she whispered. When he stood over her like this, when he commanded her, everything inside her trembled with need—she
needed
him. She couldn’t catch her breath as fire raced through her veins, scorching every cell into awareness.

“What was that?”

“Yes—” She shook her head. He wanted her to call him “Sir”, but she couldn’t. Not without tanking everything she’d worked for the past months.

Oh, and that’s been so great?
she thought.

“Don’t make me,” she said quietly.

“Because Peter McBride’s your Dom now? Is that it?” he demanded.

“Yes.”

“I don’t think so.” Pivoting away, he left her kneeling in the middle of the workshop, confused and unsettled. She sank back on her heels and stared at the door. For the first time since she’d broken up with him, he’d taken a stand. And now, she didn’t know what to do.

* * * *

Still thinking of the scene in Syb’s workshop today, Kellon surveyed the bank of monitors before him and watched activities around the club. Though the club’s private-play areas were treated like rented apartments and not monitored, the numerous public areas had security cameras. At the moment, only one of the monitors interested him—the one showing various views of the costume shop.

With a faint smile, he watched Syb as she interacted with one of the newer subs. Since this morning, she’d changed into one of her skimpy, anime-inspired outfits. The brief blouse tied over her breasts and bared her middle. The short skirt barely covered her ass and white ruffled panties peeked from beneath. Thigh-high stockings encased her long, shapely legs that ended in mile-high Mary-Jane pumps.

His smirk deepened. It was as if she’d put on one of his favorite outfits to placate him now that she knew he’d investigated her secret. Likely, she wanted to sidetrack him, but he wouldn’t forget things weren’t as they seemed with Peter.

Kellon bit back the beginning of a full-fledged grin. It pleased him that Syb certainly wasn’t sleeping with that man.

Relishing his smug mood, he zoomed in on Syb, imaging the confrontation when he dealt with her deception tonight. As if to rile Kellon, Syb had left her new “Master’s” name at the desk again today. Kellon didn’t care half as much this time as last. Syb wasn’t going home with Peter this evening—or ever—but she might just get exactly what she wanted so badly—the spanking of her life.

While he watched, she pulled a foot from her shoe and flexed it. He shook his head, eying the slim curve of her sole. Months ago, he’d told her to break in that pair of shoes, but she didn’t dress like this at home and only wore the killer Mary Jane’s at work. Away from here, she was more likely to wear Keds, jeans and a T-shirt bearing some snarky remark. Another case of Dom knows best. She just needed to learn that.

The sound of a security card disengaging the locked door behind him brought Kellon back to the moment. Quickly, he straightened and pulled a little closer to the desk to disguise the erection that had sprung to life as he’d watched Syb.

“Still, having issues with Syb?”

Kellon looked over his shoulder to find Rob just inside the door. He stared at the monitor Kellon had been watching, probably noticing it was zoomed to the frame containing Syb.

“I have it under control,” Kellon answered.

“I hear she left with a new guy yesterday—”

“Peter McBride.”

“You’ve checked into him?”

“Of course.”

“And?” Rob asked as he walked to the security desk. He leaned against it, his back squarely blocking Syb’s monitor as he crossed his arms and ankles. His look challenged Kellon as he waited for an answer.

“Peter McBride is a graphic artist. He tends to travel a conference circuit that takes him all over the country. He doesn’t have a sub right now, and he hasn’t had one in several years, though he really is a Dom. He’s definitely into the scene. Checking our connections, I learned he’s in good standing at several clubs on the east and west coasts. That’s where he spends most of his time. He’s well respected in all circles.”

Rob nodded. “So why do you doubt he’s taken our Sybil under his command?”

“He’s gay. Syb doesn’t play unless there’s some carnal reward waiting for her. She’s not into submission without sexual gratification. She wants to know that, at some point, she’ll be fucked unless she’s being punished. I don’t think that’s changed since she left me. It hasn’t been
that
long.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m done playing. I’m stepping in, and she’s listening. After that, if she wants to move on… Well, she won’t want to.” Kellon stared at Rob’s shoulder as if he could see though it to Syb if he looked hard enough. Would she listen? Better, would she believe him? That was the fifteen trillion dollar question.

He’d always had a dominant personality, so stepping into the D/s lifestyle hadn’t been a stretch for him. Being in command, seeing to his sub’s needs, bondage and even non-physical discipline and controlling pleasure had been quite natural for him. Spanking and the like wasn’t necessarily a sign or imperative of the lifestyle. Then he’d met Syb, and she’d needed more from him. It had taken him months to come to terms with that—months and some non-professional therapy from the man confronting him now. But Kellon was ready to take that next step though he was still cautious. He’d come from an abusive home. The idea of spanking Syb worried him. He couldn’t be an abuser.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Rob informed him, leaning forward slightly with his arms still crossed.

“Don’t use your psychobabble on me; not right now,” Kellon sighed. His boss had an annoying double degree in business and human behavior. He didn’t hesitate to use his knowledge on his friends and employees when he deemed it necessary.

“You’re worried that when you spank her or use a flogger you might get too rough.”

“Rob…” Kellon warned.

“You’ve got yourself under such a tight hold it’s a wonder you don’t creak when you move. Look, have you discussed this with her, really talked? Set guidelines? You know that’s one of the first tenets of BDSM. Consensual. She knows she can’t force you; that’s why she’s doing this. You have to take the first step and prove that it’s your idea.”

“So you’re analyzing her, too?”

“There’s not much to detect. Syb’s transparent. You don’t need a psychology degree to see what she’s about. I think she’s trying to force your hand.”

Kellon’s eyes narrowed. “You think she’s manipulating me into do what
she
wants?”

“Or into going away. But yes, she’s trying to control this.”

“Unacceptable,” he growled.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

He knew what he wanted to do, but that would give Syb exactly what she wanted. Not that he’d ever strike her in anger. He’d cut off his hands first.

Rob studied Kellon as if he knew exactly what Kellon was thinking. His head jerked toward the door. “Come to my office.”

Without waiting, he headed for the door. Sighing, Kellon stood. Outside the security enclosure, he beckoned to one of his men to take over at the monitors then he followed Rob. His boss closed the door behind them then circled his desk. He sank into his chair, motioning Kellon to the seat opposite him.

Feeling out of sorts, Kellon plopped down, slinging his arms on the rests as he slouched against the back. Hardly professional, but this wasn’t a professional conversation.

“Seems to me that you’re at an impasse,” Rob began. “The two of you are beautifully matched, save for this one sticking point. You’re the kind of Dom who gives her space to play but offers enough structure and command that she doesn’t feel out of control.”

“Hmph,” Kellon grated. “That’s worked out so well for me.”

His boss’ brows drew together again, and Kellon knew Rob was reading his body once more and deciphering his thoughts.

“Don’t—” he began before Rob cut him off.

“It’s not abuse, you know? You wouldn’t be lashing out in anger—Jesus, man. You have more control over your emotions than anyone I know. Even if you were pissed as hell when you spanked her, you wouldn’t beat her or be overly harsh. But Syb needs to know that you won’t hesitate to subjugate her if necessary—I know you respect her, but in the bedroom all of the bullshit of modern society ends. You’re the caveman and she’s your woman, and she wants you to deal with her. Believe me, you’ll find release in it and so will she—and if you go too far, she won’t hesitate for a second to use her safe word.”

“I get that,” Kellon replied. He didn’t need another lecture on dealing with Syb.

“Do you get how much she trusts you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to move before it’s too late. Syb is a desperate, confused sub right now. We screen
The Dungeon’s
clientele thoroughly, but I’m still concerned she’ll end up in the wrong man’s hands. Not every Dom knows how to handle a free spirit like Syb without crushing her.” Rob removed a paddle, belt and flogger from his side desk drawer. “I’ve booked you into the staff training center. Go get your head on straight then go get her. I don’t expect to see either of you until Monday for any reason.”

Without another word, he left the office while Kellon eyed the implements on the desk. He’d become rather familiar with them over the past six months. Rob had prescribed their use as surrogates. They had sensors in them and were used on the mannequins in the professional discipline staff’s training center. The last thing Rob would allow was for a client to be harmed, so he’d worked with a group of engineers, who were like-minded in BDSM, to develop the instructional dummies. Much like on a shooting range, the staffs’ accuracy was tracked and evaluated.

Knowing it would give him time to think, he gripped the soft leather of the belt in one hand and the paddle and flogger in the other. No one paid any mind to him, unless it was to take one look at his determined countenance and retreat from his path.

The secretary at the training center glanced up with a smile as he entered. The look didn’t falter as she rose to greet him.

“Mr. Marecek,” she said. “Right this way. I have your room ready.”

She showed him into a brightly lit, white-walled room. This was one of the places in the club with no cameras—not that he thought anyone would watch him working over the dummy. Still, it comforted him to know he’d have complete privacy for his thoughts.

He set the implements on a table near the door as the secretary walked to what was essentially a crash dummy bent over a spanking bench. She flipped a couple switches but didn’t explain what she was doing as she had for the first month he’d come here. He knew there were six phases in the session that began with his first stroke. A buzzer marked the end of each training module. Then after five minutes a green light on the back wall would tell him he could begin again when he was ready, but he could rest as long as he wanted between sequences. There were three rounds with the mannequin bent over the bench and three with it upright so he could use each implement he’d brought in both scenarios.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit,” she said. “If you need me, I’ll be at the desk.”

He nodded then picked up the belt as the door shut. Contemplating his situation, he moved behind the dummy. Though it wasn’t a real person, his muscles bunched. His stomach felt distinctly turbulent, as if he stood on the edge of a precipice looking down into oblivion. But…it wasn’t bad. There was a sort of excitement attached to this when he envisioned it being Syb. Every time he did this, he carefully pictured her bent there for him, submitting to him. At first, he’d felt uncomfortable, but as his confidence in his control had grown, he’d been confronted with a strange sense of power—not that he could hurt someone. That wasn’t the point. It was that he had someone who’d be so focused on his sexual needs that she’d give this to him, and that he had the ability to give her a pleasure she’d otherwise be denied by society. There was so much more to it than those outside the scene could comprehend.

His jaw clenched as he shifted his stance, his concentration focusing on the curved behind in front of him. His arm flexed, and as his heartbeat increased, he drew back then slashed his arm forward delivering a resounding slap of the belt against the faux-ass.

A simulated cry echoed through the room, and Kellon smiled darkly. Rob had created full-service dummies with both sensors and sounds. The female voice loosened the tension in Kellon’s neck, letting him breathe. His chest rose and fell harshly as he repeated his action and was rewarded with a similar response. A tingle gripped his balls. He’d be fully aroused before the end of the session. Today was different from other times. Today, he knew he’d have Syb under his hand tonight.

Automatically, he settled into the blows, his cock filling with the increasingly desperate wails of the computerized woman.

When the buzzer went off, he froze, thoroughly stunned by how far he’d sunk into his “practice”. Spanking was an unbelievable emotional outlet for both Dom and sub, but this round had done nothing to alleviate the needy sensation in his groin. His cock was like a painful spike. He needed relief, but jacking off in the training room was strictly forbidden. The professional discipline staff wasn’t expected to become aroused. The burst of craving and power gushing through him marked the line between a Dom and a job. As a dominant, he needed his submissive, and he needed her now. If she were here, he’d fuck her regardless of the rules. The more he’d brought down the belt, the more he’d wanted it to be Syb in front of him. The more he’d wanted to hear
her
cries and know he was driving her to the pleasure she wanted, the more he’d understood why this was so important for both of them. The pleasure would take them both to another plane. Yet, he would never lose control as he’d feared for so long.

The green light went on, and he moved the table to retrieve the flogger. Carefully, he weighed the instrument in his palm, finding the right grip. He closed his eyes as his whole body vibrated. Sweat coated his skin, but not from exertion. All he could think of was Syb.