Hers To Control

By Brandy Schmitt

Stella Waters has dedicated the last seven years to making a name for herself as a Mistress and the co-owner of Sublime, one of Seattle’s most respectable pleasure clubs. Training a submissive is her passion, but she maintains a professional distance. Sex with a client isn't an option. Then the perfect sub walks into her club, and for the first time, there are no lines she won’t cross to train him. Mason Whitman is a workaholic, a man who thrives on controlling all aspects of his life and has no time or tolerance for relationships. Love is a four-letter word that leads to nothing but sorrow and heartache. Then a client takes him to a sex club, and he's instantly drawn to Mistress Stella. He has to have her, no matter what, even if it means topping from the bottom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: May 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781509214440

Brandy Schmitt

Brandy lives in the tip of the Pacific Northwest where she happily manages the demands of her career and family on a daily bases. Loving her surroundings she thrives on using them as backdrop for her stories. Her writing has dipped into many different genres that include historical, paranormal, contemporary, and the spicy erotica. When not writing she can be found enjoying a book from her favorite authors list, or trying to keep up with her active husband and teenage daughter. Feel free to visit her on Facebook.com/Brandy Schmitt98 or on Twitter @brandy_schmitt.

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You

Hers to Control

by

Brandy Schmitt

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Hers to Control

COPYRIGHT © 2017 by Brandy Schmitt

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

Publishing History

First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2017

Print ISBN 978-1-5092-1443-3

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1444-0

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To Chris and Bailey- For all those times the house went crazy and dinner went late while I was stuck behind my computer. You two have been so patient and encouraging as I reach for my dream.

Chapter One

Mr. Whitman, do we have a deal with Finch and Finch?

Mason Whitman eyed the man from above the rim of his glass. It wasn’t too hard to see that Jeffery Howett was in all accounts…an asshole. The man had secured himself a well-known reputation around the greater Seattle area for treating people like shit.

Mostly, women.

The younger the better.

Using their innocent bodies like doormats at his disposal, he picked them up by flashing his white playboy smile and showing off his access to large amounts of cash by taking them to dinner at higher end restaurants.

No matter how much he despised the man sitting across from him, Mason still found himself at a bar in an underground sex club of all places, buying the asshole drink after drink while smiling and pretending to enjoy the other man’s company. And for what? A three-million-dollar account? Maybe he was the asshole.

Yes, sir. I believe we do. I’ll have my girls send over the paper work to your office tonight. I would like this wrapped up by Monday morning.

On to new fish already? Jeffery took a long swig from his glass of bourbon.

Mason nodded and forced a smile. We need to keep money rolling in. There’s also a need to keep my investors happy. The miserable truth being, no matter how much he didn’t like a client, money was money, and it did all the talking.

There was little he wouldn’t do to keep his clients satisfied. Although, he could openly admit that flaw, it didn’t make him proud.

Truth be told, to him, money held more of a meaning than any other resource in the world. Given that admission, people believed him a selfish asshole. He was also a smart business man. If the difference between obtaining a multimillion dollar account and losing one meant a few nights of wining and dining a handful of snobs or playing rounds of golf on the greens to make his clients happy, then that made him the right guy for the job.

Smart boy. I hope the next ones make you a nice, shiny penny. Jeffery’s gaze scanned the room.

Me, too. With the fear of sounding a little distasteful, not just any client gets my attention, Mason said, adding another splash of kiss ass on top of an already coated pile.

Not distasteful at all. There’s nothing wrong with throwing the small ones back. I’m pleased to know I made the cut,

Jeffery laughed, the sound making Mason want to choke him. As shitty as it sounded, only the company’s high-dollar clients contracted Mason. If a client didn’t stand a chance from the beginning, Mason didn’t even meet with them. They were passed to a lower-level financial officer to see to their needs.

Unlike men like Jeffery, Mason never fucked around with people’s feelings. If he couldn’t help them, why get their hopes up? Not to mention the fact there’d never been a place in his life for feelings and emotions. He only had room for the cold, hard greenbacks that made the world turn on its axle.

There were no small-business owners or struggling mom and pop businesses on his client roster. Not that he had anything against blue-collar businesses because hell, he would have given anything to have a blue-collar family when he was growing up. Shit, blue collar would have been hitting the family jackpot. Anything would have been better than the shit-storm childhood he had growing up.

Not to mention, middle-class families attached themselves to their businesses with their hearts. Better known as personal investors. They put everything they owned, including their blood, sweat, and tears, into their businesses, trying to make their shops and diners as successful as they could. That made them too high on the emotional scale for him to touch.

Besides, blue-collar accounts couldn’t buy the lifestyle he had grown accustomed to maintaining. They could never have bought his condo with the perfect view of downtown or the ocean property that sat two hundred yards from the white-cap waves on a private beach. No, blue-collar accounts didn’t get him where he needed to go in life and that destination took him straight to the fast lane.

Being the Chief Financial Officer of Finch and Finch Financial Investing, Mason lived in the fucked-up stress of everyday life in Seattle. The clients he took on consisted of A-list movie stars, seven-time Grammy winners, and millionaire brats who lived and played off their parents’ money. Money was money to Mason…if there were enough to go around and he got his fair share, he could put up with just about anything.

Could we get another round over here? Mason shook the ice cubes in the bottom of his glass while holding his empty drink in the air. A few occupants at the other end of the bar caught his attention. Or, better yet, their clothing pulled his gaze to them.

A woman wearing a tight corset, like something straight out of Victoria’s dirtiest secrets, booty shorts, and black, see-through nylons that ran into black strappy heels stood beside two men dressed in nothing more than black leather tight shorts and collars around their necks.

How the hell did you find this place? Mason turned to Jeffery after sliding a fifty to the cute, petite blonde behind the counter who wore similar clothing.

Sublime? A friend of a friend told me about this place a few years ago. He talked the place up so much, I had to come check it out for myself. Said it’s the best place to come if you want to…well, if you want to come. Jeffery’s laugh rumbled deep and raspy, like fingernails down a chalkboard to Mason.

I never knew a place like this existed in the city. I mean, I’ve heard of the back-alley whorehouses and places like that, but I never knew they could run a legal establishment for the public. Mason glanced around the dimly lit bar room.

I couldn’t care less about the men, but the women who work here really know how to work a man over, if you know what I mean. Word of advice, you need to be a member if you want to get any of the good perks. Jeffery smiled and leaned closer to slap a firm hand on Mason’s shoulder.

A shred of unease slipped into Mason’s thinking when it came to Sublime. Given the name of the club and the fact women and men alike walked around in leathers and collars, he would guess the place offered more than just a sex for money.

He’d heard of BDSM clubs, but he’d never been inside one before. If he ever had, he wouldn’t have expected one to look like this place. The interior of the club looked like it belonged on the high end of town. Someplace where the members held to a higher standard than this part of the city.

At least, where bars and clubs were concerned. Surprisingly, nothing about the place screamed shady or back-alley trash to him.

Judging by the looks on the outside, if someone had never been to Sublime before, they would have a hard time knowing a bar even sat in its location, making it obvious that the place thrived from word of mouth.

The bar’s true essence didn’t become apparent until he breached the entrance and the soft, red-lighted hallway opened to a sizable bar room. The same room they occupied now.

The thick, cedar wood bar counter, tastefully trimmed in a rose-red accent, mirrored the brass finishing that were polished to a shine and reflected the light nicely along the length of the room. A substantial size stage sat four feet off the main floor directly across the room from the entrance.

Someone had decorated the stage with a handful of different furniture to make it look like a small sitting area. A bench, a chair, and a closed trunk were among the items that occupied the space.

A couple of deep red-colored sofas that matched the other accents in the room sat spread out around the bar. Although it appeared to be a strange choice for a bar; the entire room was well appointed, clean, and done in good taste. If the lighting could be turned up a notch, he would place the club right up on the top of the list of any exclusive gentlemen’s clubs he had been to.

Mason’s attention dropped to the vibration buzzing in his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Where the hell are you?

He quickly sent a text back to Bradly, his best friend and business colleague, giving him the address. Twenty minutes later, Bradly strolled into the bar with a happy grin stretched across his face.

Holy shit, man. I never knew you were into this kind of kink. Good for you. I mean…damn. Bradly took a seat on the empty bar stool on the other side of Mason after shaking hands with Jeffery.

Bradly rattled off his drink order to the bartender before turning his attention back to the room around them. Isn’t this place sick? You won’t find many places like this on the beaten path that’s for sure.

Jeffery has a membership here.

Got my membership a few months ago. Jeffery’s head turned as something on the other side of the room suddenly caught his attention. Gentlemen, I have another engagement waiting for me. I hope you two stay and get a feel for what this place offers. Mason, I look forward to seeing the paperwork make it to my assistants in the next few days. Jeffery took another drink from his glass then walked from the bar and through a closed doorway at the other side of the room.

Sure, asshole. Let me pick up the check, Mason turned toward Bradly who grinned like an annoying dick at him. What?

Bradly shook his head. Don’t be so cheap, my friend.

Grabbing his drink in one hand, Mason used the other to flip his friend off.

Bradly laughed. I guess it’s the name of the game we like to play. People don’t make us rich, money does.

Isn’t that the fucking truth? Mason held his glass in the air to toast his friend then tossed the rest of his rum and coke down his throat. Even though his clients liked to drink the high-end liquor, he liked to stay with his middle-class drinks. He lived by the motto that people don’t get rich by spending every dime they earn.

How do you know what this place is if you have never been here before? Mason had been a little more than surprised to hear Bradly sound familiar with the club.

Remember the hot little number with the twenty-inch waist and the double-D breasts I dated a few months ago? She brought me here. I had no idea what they did here, but she seemed to be a regular. When I found out this place was home to a BDSM club, shit, I got so turned on, I didn’t give a shit what kind of kink she wanted. And, I’ll tell you what. There are some freaky ass things people like to do in this place.

Mason looked around the room as new customers filled the sofas and mingled at the bar. He and Bradly were over dressed for this place. Men were shirtless, wearing nothing but skintight leather pants while others wore leather underwear and chain collars around their necks.

Women wearing even less compared to the men made him take a second glance around the room. A few were in damn near see-through nighties or corsets that pushed their breasts high up on their chests.

A small group of women even sported something similar to the men with black leather outfits and showed off small chains or collars around their necks. He didn’t think too highly of their choices in jewelry, but what did he care? He didn’t have to wear it.

Mason wasn’t completely dense when it came to sex clubs. True he had never been to one, but he knew they were mostly about Dominance and submissive play. Along with sex that involved ropes, chains, and whips. Thoughts of kinky sex didn’t do anything for him. The only thing he liked to control was himself. And his work.

When it came to his work and making money, he had a no bullshit frame of thinking. As for sex, he never cared enough to put any real effort into another person to dominate them. He liked to fuck, but other than orgasms, he didn’t have much else to offer anyone.

Hey, handsome. Can I get you another? the bubbly blonde behind the bar pointed to his empty glass in front of him.

He gave his drink a little attention and shrugged. Why the hell not. What exactly happens in this place on a good night?

She arched her eyebrows at him as she poured rum over fresh ice. What are you talking about? This is a good night. You must be new here, huh? Stick around a little longer tonight, and you will see a show that will make you cream your jeans. She slid a plump little maraschino cherry into her mouth cradling it with her tongue before plucking it from the stem with her teeth.

Bradly leaned over the bar closer to the girl. How come I didn’t get a licked cherry?

His friend sounded genuinely hurt. The girl oozed sex appeal as she stood her ground by placing her hands flat on the counter and leaned forward.

Honey, if I wanted to lick something for you, I wouldn’t hesitate to make myself clear what that object would be. I normally do as I please. She gave him a flirty smile that left Bradly all but drooling in his glass.

He would be damned if the little lady wasn’t built perfectly to take on a man Bradly’s size. Working in this place, she would have to be able to handle all kinds of people.

I like a woman who knows what she likes and isn’t afraid to go after it. Nice, Bradly said.

Mason watched the interaction between the two; he wasn’t going to be the third wheel in their conversation. I think it’s time for me to go.

Both Bradly and the blonde turned to stare at him. Bradly’s face fell a little as if struck with disappointment.

The girl’s mirrored his. You’re going to miss the show. Believe me when I say, you’re going to love the scene Mistress Stella and Mistress Angel have set up for our guests tonight.

Mistress Stella and Mistress Angel, huh? I’ve never met real Mistresses before. Are they all about ‘kiss my boot heel’ or what? Bradly grinned at her.

She smiled and even blushed a little. A few of our Mistresses are very much all about the male slaves, but for the most part our Mistresses in-house are about taking on and training their submissives. Are you two interested in meeting with a Mistress? They do one-on-one consultations for possible new clients. I could put your names down for a meeting tomorrow if you would like to talk to one of them about what we’re all about here? Maybe talk about possible memberships?

No, thanks. I think I’m good. I wouldn’t know the first thing about any of this. I’m not into kink. It’s great for whoever is into it. I’m not…

She opened her mouth as if to plead her side. Then her gaze shifted as she caught sight of someone on the other end of the room. She quickly lit back up.

Mistress Stella, could we have a moment of your time? the girl spoke over the sounds of the restless crowd.

Mason turned his gaze in the same direction and just about fell off the damn bar stool. His breath sucked out of his lungs leaving an aching hole as he watched one of the most gorgeous women he had ever laid eyes on walk across the room. She headed straight toward them.

His gaze traveled hungrily over the length of her body from the ground up. She’d mastered the five-inch high, black leather boots that ended just shy of her ankles. Taking them into account he judged her height to be around five foot seven.

The bareness of her legs disappeared mid-thigh into tight, black shorts that matched the leather corset that hugged her chest so snugly it propped her perky breasts high displaying perfect round cleavage. Her red hair flowed about her shoulders in perfect bouncing waves as she walked. His cock throbbed at the idea of burying his face in those fiery locks.

Colorful ink depicted a beautiful picture covering the upper half of her left arm. He always thought women with ink were badass. A major turn on. This woman screamed badass.

Her full, luscious lips were painted red making his mouth water. Images of what he would give up if he could watch his cock slide between that perfect set of lips just once in his lifetime flashed through his mind. Even the little metal bar pierced through the skin above her right eye forced his cock to pulse.

He watched her caramel-colored eyes skim over him from behind dark lashes.

Shit. If someone asked him what his own personal hard-on looked like, he wouldn’t hesitate thinking of her. She looked like everything Mason never knew he wanted in a woman…until this very moment.

Mistress Stella. These men are new to our club and have a few questions about what goes on here at Sublime.

Stella smiled sweetly at the blonde before running her golden-brown gaze over both men.

"Really? Have either one of you ever been in a

Reviews for Hers To Control

[Nona · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is an ok story.
There're all the basic erotica elements in there: a bit of over the top drama, a somehow damsel in distress heroine, a broken hero and a BDSM Club.
Sex scene were ok, but mostly male topped other than the titel suggests.
The writing could have been better. It felt like the half of it should be rewritten to smooth the storyline. The characters were a bit flat too.
But I read this one to the end, so nevertheless it gets a 3* review.