Chapter Thirty-One

Rupert walked briskly down Bush Walk, practically pulling Tori along. Vaguely, it occurred to her that she should object to being led deeper into the club, but she was happy that he didn’t mind her getting tipsy in public anymore.

“I like the new you,” she told him. “Not such a fuddy-duddy.” She giggled.

They took an elevator, and she suddenly found herself back in the secret dungeon. “I’ve been here before,” she pronounced dizzily. “Naughty things in here.”

She stopped walking to stare at a hanging, bound man being flayed by a uniformed staff member. The upside-down man wore a ball gag.

Rupert tugged her along, and she yelled back, “Doesn’t that hurt?”

The bound man didn’t answer.

Then they were in the private BDSM suite. But they weren’t alone. A woman waited there on a leather wing-back throne in the corner. She was about Tori’s age and dressed like the black-haired Dominatrix from Sadie’s, except this woman dangled a black whip from her hand.

After Rupert shut the door behind them, the striking woman rose from her throne and snapped the whip on the floor.

Thwack!

Tori jumped at the loud crack.

“Nappie, you’ve kept me waiting,” the woman scolded.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. It took longer than expected.” Rupert’s gaze dropped to the floor, and his voice turned soft and agreeable, unlike anything Tori had heard from him before.

She looked back and forth between the two, utterly confused by his deferential demeanor…until understanding finally dawned. A grin parted her lips.

“Ohh,” she warbled. “I get it. You’re a Dominatrix and he’s your sub!” Proud of herself for figuring it out, she beamed and attempted to walk toward the beautiful creature, but the room was making it difficult by tilting sideways.

The Domme strode down the steps toward them. Reaching Rupert, she murmured sotto voce, “I will take extra pleasure in correcting your behavior tonight, and maybe you won’t keep me waiting in the future.”

The Domme switched her gaze to Tori. “Now, who do we have here?”

“Mistress, may I introduce Josephine?”

“Welcome to my dungeon. I’ve heard all about you from Nappie. You broke his heart, you know.” Her concern seemed odd, given the gleeful look on her face. “I think you’ll make a fine addition to my harem.”

“Wha—?” Tori lurched backward and turned to Rupert. “What does she mean?”

“I have a playmate here who likes to rule over me. It’s fun and exciting,” he replied.

Shocked, Tori took a sideways step away from him. “I don’t understand.” She looked back at the Domme, who was slowly circling them, looking annoyed.

He spoke rapidly to the impatient woman. “Mistress, please forgive her impudence. She is a newbie. But I know Josephine will love serving you, as I do. At dinner, she practically popped just from watching a slave serving her master.”

Tori attempted to respond. “No-oht true. I didn’t…um.”

“Do you mean to tell me this woman doesn’t know why she is here?” The Domme cracked the whip again. Harder.

Thwack!

Both Rupert and Tori jumped.

“Join us, Josephine,” he urged. “Think about it—you naked, trussed up, and under Mistress Polly’s special tutelage. The idea excites me greatly.”

Tori slowly backed toward the door—the tilting room the least of her problems now. “Is that the reason you brought me here? To invite me to join your ménage?” Nausea flooded her, as stinky and sickening as a wave of raw sewage.

“I did it for us. Please give it a try. For us.” He dropped to the ground and kissed her shoe, then gazed up at her. “Or you can dominate me, if you prefer. I might enjoy that even more.”

Tori stared down at him, disbelief whipping her brain about like a tornado. “Ain’t gonna happen.”

“Be careful, dearest. Your common upbringing is show—”

A whip crack sliced through the room. Mistress Polly stared at him, then flicked her hand down her front.

Troy watched, fascinated, as he shut his mouth and rose to begin rapidly shedding his clothing.

The authoritative woman strode up to Tori and slowly looked her up and down. Tori’s gaze dropped to the floor.

The Domme said to Rupert, “You’re wrong, my pet. This one’s a natural submissive. It may take a strong hand to make her realize it, but she’s not ready to rule over you…or anyone. Yet.”

Tori tried to step away, but Rupert, now naked, had come up directly behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. He pushed himself against her, and his erection pressed against her ass cheeks. She shuddered while her drunken mind tried to come up with an appropriately withering response.

Mistress Polly smiled at her. “I would love to train you, Josephine. You might even rise to be my consort, but I’m the only empress around here.”

For the briefest instant, visions of Ian training her in this room swept through Tori’s mind. She saw herself on her knees, naked and serving him.

I’m angry at him! she reminded herself firmly. But the images kept coming. Would he like it better if she came to him already trained, or would he wish to train her himself?

She shuddered again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

“Take your hands off her,” Mistress Polly ordered Rupert.

Immediately, he let go. He turned and knelt at the woman’s feet.

Utterly flabbergasted, Tori found it hard to breathe. Rupert really was a submissive. Never would she have guessed that about him.

Circling Tori, Mistress Polly continued, “Oh, he’s got it bad for you, Josephine. We’re going to have so much fun tonight denying Nappie the pleasure of touching you. Painfully denying.”

Tori took another step toward the door. “I’ll just be go—”

Mistress Polly ignored her, her eyes narrowing on Rupert. “Spanking bench. Now. I would be deficient delaying your punishment any longer.”

He practically ran to the padded structure.

She returned her gaze to Tori. “Why don’t you give it a try? Let me tie you up and play with your body. I can see it in your eyes, you’re tempted.”

Tori looked at the aroused, naked man who’d been her boyfriend for so long but was now obediently positioning himself on the bench, his ass in the air, waiting to be whipped.

She lurched toward the door, shocked into sobriety. “I’m leaving. I didn’t come here to have sex with you, Rupert, and certainly not to be tied up and flogged by a stranger.”

Opening the door, she yelled back at him, “Pervert!”

Mistress Polly ignored her outburst as she began to strap him down, but he sent her a parting shot. “Victoria! You know as well as I do, submission arouses you. You can pretend all you want, but you’re a slut just like the rest of the women here. No different.”

Tori didn’t respond, but Mistress Polly did. “Rupert, is it? Well, Rupert, tonight you’re going to learn not to call women names, and it’s going to be a painful lesson.”

“No, wait!” he cried. “I didn’t mean you!”

Thwack!

Tori didn’t look back, not even when he howled in pain. She pulled the door shut and rushed up the stairs to the exit, avoiding making eye contact with any of the sex-crazed members of the club. Tonight had been a dreadful mistake.

She burst out the front door and saw Rinaldo waiting by the curb next to the limo. He insisted on giving her a ride home.

A weird kind of peace filled her. She now understood something she hadn’t known for certain at the start of the evening. She and Rupert were a thing of the past, finally and absolutely. It shocked her how little she’d known the real man.

It also rankled that he seemed to know her so well, because he’d been spot-on about one thing: deep inside, surprising her by its intensity, there was a previously unknown craving to be sexually dominated. But not by Rupert or his beautiful Dominatrix.

Tori wanted only one person to rule over her. Wanted to serve only one person.

However, first she’d have to decide whether she could find it in herself to forgive him, once and for all.

And again become more than just friends.

Much, much more.