SO many eyes, Caera thought, and they were all on her. She followed Saul through the unholy number of people crammed into the club, her hand tightly caught in his, and tried to avoid making eye contact with those around her. She abhorred being the center of attention, yet here she was, willing to strip down to the bare minimum to keep Saul’s ego intact.
Okay, okay, so maybe she had gotten wetter between the legs when he’d said those things in her ear. She’d longed to do that, to flaunt herself in nothing but the gorgeous collar around her throat, to make everyone in the room aware she belonged.
They’d barely made it to the booth where Mac cradled Tess on his lap like an infant, when the music levels dropped and the whine of a microphone buzzed the speakers.
Conversations stopped immediately and everyone turned to look at the stage. Caera couldn’t see anyone near the front, there were too many bodies and the curtains were still tightly drawn.
“Good evening to all who come tonight,” a heavily accented Russian voice began. “It is such nice surprise to see so many welcome friends. I am pleased to have excellent company in shape of Doms and Dommes.”
A light chuckle rippled around the room.
“Tonight’s event, we say hello to some beautiful submissives, yes? Both in appearances and manners. I am happy we have many subs to make appearance on stage to perform for our benefit. In fact, this year we have thirty-seven outstanding submissives taking part.”
A swift round of warm applause.
“Would all Dominants please hand over their most treasured possessions to my own submissives? They are dressed tonight in purple, yes? And carry the mark of The Abyss on their arm. Please be assured, your submissives will be returned to you unharmed once the curtains close.”
“Unharmed?” Caera hissed in alarm.
Saul turned her to face him, pressed his mouth to hers in the softest, most gentle kiss they’d ever shared. “No one will harm you. As a guest of Master Dominov, you come under his protection as well as ours.” His eyes flicked past her shoulder and he gave the slightest nod. “Time to shine, sweetheart.”
Slowly, a foreboding feeling chasing up her spine, Caera turned. A tiny woman, no more than five feet tall, stood before her in a Roman tunic the color of plums. Her arms were bare, as were her feet, with a golden band around each wrist.
She had chocolate eyes in a face unlined by…anything, Caera thought suspiciously. She couldn’t hazard a guess at her age because there was nothing to gauge it by. No stress lines, no worry wrinkles, no laughter creases. Skin unmarked by emotion or time. Almost porcelain, like a precious doll.
Caera shuddered and wondered if the black hair, twisted and shaped into an intricate bun atop the woman’s head, was actually a wig. Interchangeable, like any marketable doll.
A black dot, a couple inches wide, sat defiantly on the woman’s small biceps, a grand statement against the paleness of her skin. When she moved, Caera thought she saw an A ghosted in the middle of the black.
“Master Danvers.” She gave a minute bow.
“It’s okay, Caera.” Saul urged her toward the tunic-clad doll.
She looked toward the booth, watched as Mac coaxed Tess into the supervision of a tall, blond man wearing the same purple robe thing and an identical black dot. Her heart clutched in sympathy for the look on Tess’ face; Caera’s scars were mental, etched into the essence of her soul. Tess’ wounds had imprinted on every part of her, including the very visible ones on her body.
“You come with me,” the doll said in the same heavy accent as Master Dominov. She turned without seeming to move, a creepy horror-film trick that set Caera’s nerves on fire.
Caera gave Saul one long look before she sighed and trudged along behind the doll through a crowd, which appeared to part for them without a word being spoken. Why, she thought with no little suspicion, were there only thirty-odd submissives “performing” when the number of people attending must have been in the hundreds?
She paused in mid-stride, sweating from anxiety and the now-strangling weight of the clothes she wore. She shrank back when the big blond guy passed her and then found her hand, grabbed, and held tightly.
Tess had lost her cocky confidence, an attribute Caera had become used to. Flirty, blatantly sexual, radiating with that confidence Caera envied. But her friend looked terrified, an almost sickly gray color, her brilliant blue eyes dull.
And Caera remembered what Saul had asked of her. She smiled, trying to summon up courage she didn’t have and put on an encouraging face. “We can do this, Tess. Together.”
“You must come. Time ticking. Trouble if you late to stage.” The doll and the blond had stopped, were facing Caera and Tess with identical expressions of You’re Trouble written over their immaculate faces.
“I can’t do this,” Tess whispered, eyes cast to the floor.
“You can. I made a promise to look after you,” Caera murmured back as she tugged Tess’ hand and set them both in motion. “What the hell am I supposed to do if you leave me now? I’ll be all by myself up there.”
The creep twins stopped and flanked a door to the left of the stage. There were other people in purple already there, silent and formidable in their unity. “Go through door. Follow stairs, then corridor. You will be met by Master Dominov.”
Well shit, Caera thought numbly. The big Russian cheese had come to tempt the little submissive mice out to play. Where was the trap?
Bracing herself, she took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway, dragging Tess with her. More tiny lights were set into the floor, providing the only illumination in the otherwise pitch-black space.
“They wouldn’t be mad,” Tess said as though she believed it. Or was trying to convince herself she believed it. “Saul and Mac wouldn’t be mad with us if we put an end to this now. We’d just go home. Where it’s safe and no one’s staring at us. Just turn around.”
Caera stopped in the darkness, searched for Tess’ other hand. She squeezed them both, wondering if hers were as frozen as Tess’. On impulse, she pulled her friend into a hug. “You’ve looked after me since I first came to the house with Saul. You and Dee are my best friends, even though Dee scares the crap out of me sometimes. How many times have you encouraged me to do something Saul wanted, even though I was petrified?”
“That was different. That was Saul.”
“Then we go out there, and we look in our big girl thongs—you are wearing a thong, right, I’m not the only one?—and look through our very limited dance repertoire for something that’s going to knock some posh socks off. Because the only person you’re dancing for tonight is Mac.”
Tess’ body relaxed fractionally. “Mac.”
“Mac. You know the guy I’m talking about? Scottish, built like a redwood. Thick red hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and a phenomenal physique. Dominant, can’t forget that, and completely, utterly smitten with his submissive.” Caera heard Tess’ weak chuckle and smiled. “And his submissive just happens to be…?”
“Me.”
“Exactly. So let’s go show the boys just who they’re taking home tonight, shall we?” Without waiting for an answer, Caera set off again, walking carefully in case of booby traps. The things she had on her feet were booby-trap enough without adding to them.
“I couldn’t go out there without you,” Tess confessed quietly as they shuffled along the corridor.
“Trust me,” Caera said with emphasis, “I couldn’t if I had to go alone. But we’re not alone, are we? Me and you, we’re doing this together and we’re going to have fun. And we have three incredibly protective Dominants waiting for us.”
“Ladies, glad you could join us. Did you get lost?”
The voice possessed the darkness, saturated it with the heavy, almost blunt Russian accent. Disorientated, Caera paused, head cocked as she tried to pinpoint exactly where it came from. “M-Master Dominov?”
“This way, little subs. You are almost there, yes?”
Blindly, they fumbled along, following the voice as it led them through the dark. They blinked like owls when they stepped suddenly into a bare room, lit only by a single dim bulb.
A sea of submissiveness spread in front of them. Thirty-odd men and women looking bulky in their layers of clothing, lined up like soldiers for inspection. Any and all hair colors from blonde and brunette to purple and an odd shade of lilac. No discrimination here.
All hands were linked at the smalls of their backs, heads bowed as though in prayer. Silence was the universal language.
“Please, join line. We shall begin.”
Caera shivered at the sight of Master Dominov. She’d half expected a tall, broad figure of power. Like Mac, but more…Russian. Instead, he was only about her height, dressed in a black suit that emphasized his leanness. Thick curling brown hair with silver streaking from his temples, and a tidily groomed goatee. But his eyes, his eyes were cold, empty. A shade of gray that spoke of cruelty, and stated quite openly he would enjoy the pain he wrought.
Without protest, she stepped into one of the lines at the back and automatically assumed the position of the other subs. A quick glance at Tess and she saw her friend must have read the same impression of the man now in charge of their well-being.
“Thirty-seven submissives stand in front of me. Thirty-seven dirty whores whose only mission in life is to serve masters. Tonight, your Masters have given control of you to me. Therefore, whatever I wish, you shall do. Failure to comply will result in severe and very public punishment.”
Whoa, wait a minute. She hadn’t signed up for this. She wasn’t sure Saul had signed up for this either. A whimper from beside her made her tense; she made a gentle, and she hoped comforting, shush noise. If Master Dominov decided to make an example of fear, Tess would more than likely be his first choice.
“When music start, you go on stage. You must spread out so everyone visible to audience, yes? You dance, you perform for your Masters, and at end of song you remove one piece of clothing. No comply, you removed from stage. Substandard performance, you removed from stage.”
Well, hell. Maybe the show would be over for her before the first song finished. She knew she couldn’t dance—aside from wiggling her hips to the radio every once in a while, she hadn’t ever put her energy into learning how to perfect the art.
“You may dance with another sub if you have permission from Master. Otherwise, no touching permitted. I have list,” Dominov warned, “and eyes all ’round stage. If you leave stage, no return. No refund. Masters pay great amount for subs to be invited to stage.”
Oh really. Caera’s eyes narrowed at the floor. How much had her Master paid to put her through this trial by fire? She nearly broke her position when piano music trickled through speakers set somewhere in the room.
“Music has started. First line may enter.”
Feet shuffled, the press of bodies lessened as the first set of submissives obediently made their way through a set of curtains and disappeared. The sound of applause and wolf whistles drifted from beyond.
“Second line may go.”
More shuffling, a sense of dread and excitement filling the room as those who anticipated the performance and those who were unsure realized that this was actually happening.
“Third line.”
Caera swallowed hard when her line began to move. She followed dutifully, Tess’ presence at her back. Her heart raced in her chest, sweat beaded her skin. As she reached the curtain, she hesitated and then brought Saul’s face to mind.
She imagined him beaming with pride, happy beyond words with how she’d kept herself calm and in control. With that in mind, she stepped out onto the stage and blinked against the brightness and heat of the spotlights coming through the curtains.
Submissives spread out all over, some aiming for maximum attention in the center of the wooden-floored area, others sticking quietly to the shadows. Some looked serene, some appeared to be basking in the thrill. Others looked nervous, fearful, confused.
“With me,” Caera murmured and picked a place toward the middle rear. In view but not directly visible. Hopefully, she and Tess could be knocked out by the first round.
The piano music faded, replaced by the distinctive beat of dance music. She thought she knew this one, something fairly new and with a good beat. At least they’d been kind and given them an easy track to start off with.
“On My Mind.” That was it. The opening bars were accompanied by the slow retraction of the huge curtains. The audience beyond the end of the stage were invisible, masked by the wash of light. But the applause grew louder, a rowdy group of Dominants rooting for their favorites.
On stage, bodies began to move. The attention-seekers, the ones with unlimited confidence, threw themselves into the dance, twisting and turning with purpose, evidently sure of what they were doing.
Caera shot Tess a look and awkwardly rocked her hips to the music. Her arms were floppy, useless limbs with no idea of what to do. She gripped her dress at the thighs, hoping for seductive as she drew it up and up, revealing her pant-covered legs.
Eyes closed, she let her body start to direct itself. And when the song ended, she remembered to whip the dress off and drop it to the floor. When she opened her eyes, three subs were being removed from the stage, looking relieved.
“You okay?” she mouthed to Tess.
Her friend nodded jerkily, her eyes flitting back to the audience as though she could see through the blinding light to Mac.
“Hotline Bling” started, a faster-paced song that required more bodily involvement. Falling back on instinct, Caera shut her eyes again and let the music take her over. The nerves in her belly settled and, as long as she didn’t think about the hundreds of people watching her, found she enjoyed herself.
Clothing shed piece by piece, song by song. The temperature on stage grew steadily, bringing sweat and tears. The music became harder to follow; faster and faster until the remaining subs on stage were almost stumbling from fatigue.
Down to ten, Caera thought wondrously. How the hell had she gotten this far? At the end of a Clubland version of “Tigers in the Fire,” she peeled off her second-to-last item of clothing, a sheer blouse, and tossed it aside to the howling cheers of a rapt audience. Her breasts filled out the bra perfectly, offering a sensational view of deep cleavage.
“Caera. Caera, I can’t do it.”
She whirled at the sound of Tess’ voice, found her friend fumbling with the hem of her shirt, the last piece of clothing on her torso before the scars would be on show. “You can. Tess, you can do this.” She danced her way over to Tess as two purple-clad tunics hustled their way toward her. “On three.”
Caera grasped the hem, whipped it off over Tess’ head, and then began to dance with her, blocking Tess’ body from view as they began to move together.
“What happened to three?”
“We went on three; I just skipped one and two.” Caera took Tess’ hands and used her body to draw Tess back into the moment. “You’re beautiful. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”
“We’re down to one last piece,” Tess panted.
“And we’re in the final six,” Caera winked and heard the track start to fade. “You ready for the finale? May as well go out with a bang, right?”
Tess grinned, some of her old cockiness re-emerging. “Let’s do it.”
The song ended and the pair of them slipped out of their skirts. The last song started, a suggestive tune called “Flaunt It.” And they did, grinding against each other, laughing as they took turns using each other as a stripper pole.
When the stage went quiet, they stopped and looked around. Only two other girls remained, wearing revealing bikinis.
“Well, this is surprise, yes? Four ravishing submissives left. Two familiar contestants from competition past, and two nubile new faces. How should we decide winner?”
Suggestions were tossed around before Dominov engaged the microphone again. “This is submissive contest, yes? Perhaps we decide winner by obedience trial.”
A resounding whoop echoed from the darkness beyond the lights.
“Oh crap,” Caera muttered.
“My friends agree. This is good. Now, lovelies, present yourself to your Masters.”
Caera dropped without thinking, landing on her knees hard enough to bruise. She hid the discomfort and presented herself as Saul had taught her, blanking her mind to the fact everyone in the first rows would be able to see her pussy.
“Ah, down to three.”
Oh God, who had gone? She daren’t risk turning her head to check and see if Tess was still beside her. She kept her head bowed, counting the lines in the wooden planks.
“Very good. Masters train you well. Now, touch yourselves. Show us wet pussies. Striptease sexy, yes? Pussies should be wet for Master’s cock.”
Heat blazed over her skin. As though her hand were controlled by invisible strings, she found herself reaching between her legs, pushing aside the damp sliver of material covering her crotch and pushing two fingers inside herself. God, she was wet.
Saul had said more than once she had an exhibitionist streak, and she hadn’t really believed him. But now, she had evidence in the form of silky wet heat to prove him right. Damn him, the bastard.
“Down to two,” Dominov crooned as though impressed. “Who will come first?”
The race was on. Caera blanked out the sound of the audience losing their self-control. She concentrated only on how her fingers felt, how she wished Saul was with her on stage to pull her hand free, lick her fingers clean, and take her with all his pent up sexual frustration.
Orgasm crept up steadily, and she held back. Can’t come, she realized with a moan. Master has not given his permission. She struggled with the decision, keeping herself on this side of the line. Did she have to ask for permission? It was the right thing to do but did she dare raise her voice to pose the question?
Too late, she heard her competition give a hard moan followed by ah-ah-ah as she climaxed. Tears came to her eyes as she absorbed the horrible sensation of failure. She had failed Saul, embarrassed him in front of his associates, and she’d never be able to look him in the eye again.
“We have winner. Excellent, just excellent. Would lucky Master go reward submissive for unbelievable performance?”
Caera didn’t know what to do. Her fingers kept moving, holding herself on the fine line of orgasm. The strain was unbearable but no one had given her any direction. She cringed as heavy footsteps vibrated across the stage. She waited for them to pass, shrank into herself when they stopped behind her.
Hands dropped onto her shoulders, kneaded gently as their owner crouched behind her. She shuddered, struggling against the pain of orgasm deprivation.
“It’s okay, baby. You can let go now. I’ve got you.” Saul’s voice floated into her consciousness.
“Can’t. Don’t have permission.” She groaned the word, a sob building in her chest.
“You have it, baby. I’m giving you permission. Come now. Come for me.” He reached around her, his warmth almost barbaric when combined with her own, and covered her hand with his. Together, they pushed her off the edge with a keening cry, followed by a sudden emotional break.
Her body stiffened, leaning back against Saul as tremors ripped through her. He lifted her easily while the shocks took her apart piece by piece. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“I let you down.” She curled into him, oblivious to what was going on around her.
“Caera, you adorable muppet, you won.” He laughed softly and pressed his lips to her temple. “Against all odds, you won it hands down.”
Confused, she stared at him through tear-blurred vision. “But the other girl came first.”
“She did. But who didn’t come?”
“Me?”
“Why?”
“Because nobody gave me permission to—oh.”
“Got it in one.” He nuzzled her as one of the purple tunics hurried over with a bottle of water and a blanket. Dazed, she let them bundle her up, press the water bottle to her lips. She drank until she thought her stomach would pop.
“Master Danvers, congratulations. Please come see me at some point during remainder of evening for prize. And bring remarkable submissive along.” Dominov opened his arms wide to encompass the rest of the room. “Please, my friends, enjoy rest of evening. Playrooms are now open for anyone who wish to use.”
Caera’s eyes drifted shut and she smiled weakly as her lover carried her tenderly from the stage. She heard voices, familiar ones, and tried to wake up enough to see her friends.
“Didn’t expect that,” Mac said. “From either one of them.”
“I couldn’t have done it without Caera, Sir. I wouldn’t have made it onto the stage.” Tess’ voice was quiet, shocked. “I just couldn’t submit at the end. I’m sorry.”
“Sweetheart, you surpassed my every expectation. Don’t apologize to me for being brave and amazing, and mine.” The sound of kissing made Caera’s smile grow a little more.
“Dominov has provided us with these for the girls,” Deanna butted into the conversation. “He didn’t think Tess would be comfortable wandering around in what she’s wearing. He gives his highest regard to you, Tess, for your courage.”
Caera could feel her friend blush at the compliment. She shifted, stretched, and found herself being set on her feet. She swayed, holding on to Saul’s arm. When she opened her eyes, she was overwhelmed by the looks on everyone’s faces. “Hey.”
Mac stepped forward, pressed his lips to hers. His blue eyes glowed with pride as he held her gaze. “Proud moment, Caera. Very proud moment. Thank you for giving Tess a gift she’ll never—we’ll never—forget.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she mumbled, unnerved by the raw emotion in his eyes.
“You gave her back some of her self-confidence. That’s an immeasurable gift.” He smiled and stepped back, taking a black jumpsuit from Dee’s hand. He focused his attention on tucking his woman into the sheath of material.
Dee came to her, another jumpsuit in her grasp, and between her and Saul, they bundled Caera into the soft, warm material. She realized she’d lost her shoes somewhere along the way and decided she was too tired to hunt them down.
“You made quite the statement tonight, young lady.” Wicked humor lit Deanna’s face like a beacon. “I’m looking forward to playing with you later this week.”
Caera’s eyes widened. She’d forgotten all about her playdate. “I…ah…”
“Stop teasing the lass,” Mac chastised. “She’s had an energetic evening.”
Dee cocked an eyebrow. “She better have the energy to finish Saul off later; I know he’s got his eye on one of the playrooms for a repeat performance.”
“Dee,” Saul said in exasperation. His arm curled around Caera’s waist.
Caera thought of the slickness between her legs, the tingles and reawakening dull ache. Of the residual stickiness from his earlier marking. Of the frightening exhilaration that came from being exposed, from coming in front of an audience of hundreds of strangers.
Her fingers caressed the back of his hand seductively.
“Oh,” Saul murmured dangerously. “I suppose if someone’s willing to play and doesn’t feel tired…” His erection thrust against her ass, letting her know just how unopposed he was to the idea of a scene. “I could oblige.”
“Thank you, Sir. Would you mind if I visited the bathroom first?”
“I’ll show you the way. We’ll meet you at the bar,” Saul told the others and then paused when Caera tapped his hand.
“I’d like to go by myself, if you don’t mind. Just five minutes,” she said before he could object. “Just five minutes to myself, Sir, please?”
Saul looked pained, his gaze scanning the room as though searching for one unscrupulous Dom he could use as a reason to say no. He relented when he saw her face. “All right, five minutes. If anyone speaks to you, you may reply appropriately. Do not make eye contact with anyone. Any longer than five minutes and I’ll send one of these two in after you.” He tilted his head at Tess and Dee.
Amused, she let a smile tickle the corners of her mouth. “Yes, Sir, thank you.”
She sensed his eyes on her back as she hurried away toward the corner where illuminated signs pointed the way for the bathrooms. She kept her eyes down, her body language as unapproachable as she could manage, sliding through people like a snake.
She was brushed, bumped, elbowed…she’d never been in such an immense crowd before. Her exposure to society was limited, and she wasn’t used to the amount of touching—inadvertent or not—currently going on.
“Oh dear,” she whispered shakily to herself and looked back to find Saul. Her heart stuttered when it became clear she’d gotten lost in the sea of people. There was no sign of Saul, or Dee, or Tess. Not even the head-above-the-rest silhouette of Mac.
Claustrophobia hit swiftly, making her feel trapped within a wall of bodies. Her breathing hitched as she turned around and around, searching for a gap in the wall that wasn’t there. She knocked into someone, staggered back a step and jerked her arm free when it was taken to steady her.
“Hey, you okay?”
“I-I-I—” No, I’m not okay.
Shaking, wondering amid the panic how a trip to the bathroom could spiral so quickly out of control, she broke, pushing through people at random, tears blurring an already spinning room.
“Saul. I need Saul.” She panted, sweating beneath the jumpsuit. She didn’t notice the number of eyes turning toward her or the murmurs rippling through Dominant ranks.
A hand grabbed her wrist, began dragging her out of the chaos with surprising strength. Her own fear making her weak, grateful to be taken out of the rising volume of voices, she followed her rescuer.
“Thank you,” she said breathlessly when they broke clear of the mass and veered toward one of the dark corridors. “You can let go now.”
“I think not. You should have arranged to meet my employer before he had to come looking for you, Ms. Hillcock. You were warned.”