Warrior Mine

By Pandora Spocks

She is the perfect combination of princess and warrior.

Scott Nielsen and Jackie Walker

Their attraction is instant from the moment they meet.
But he’s Dominant. And no way is she submissive.
Is it a missed connection? Or a divine appointment?

Scott Nielsen is ready for change. He’s walked away from his career as a wilderness counselor, planning to start his own outdoor survival school. He looks up his old friend and former colleague Blake Walker, intent on leasing space at Blake’s family’s remote wilderness guest lodge. That’s where he meets Blake’s sister Jackie, who runs the lodge with her brother’s help. Her strength and independence intrigue Scott. A single mom, Jackie has no intention of being anyone’s submissive.

In his personal life, Scott is tired of casual sex in the BDSM club scene. Envious watching his buddy Blake fall head over heels for his own submissive, Scott thinks he might be ready to take the plunge himself. As he and Jackie spend time together, he’s enchanted with her inner Warrior Princess. But Jackie’s been burned before. And she has two children who are her priority, not to mention the business to run. As independent as she is, she can’t see relinquishing her power to a man, not even one she’s falling for.

Scott’s heart aches at the idea of not having Jackie in his life. Can she take another chance on love, or will she insist on ignoring her submissive soul?

If you enjoyed LOST & BOUND, you’ll love this spin-off stand-alone story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pandora Spocks
• Release date: Jan 8, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463083291

Pandora Spocks

Pandora Spocks is a bratty ginger and hopeless romantic who lives her happily ever after in South Florida. Pandora has entertained herself with the stories pinballing around in her head for years. Recently she decided to try her hand at sharing those stories with others. The author of Luke & Bella: Two Streets Over and the Rannigan's Redemption series, she enjoys reading and writing literary erotic fiction. Pandora is currently busy writing her next spicy romance.

Book preview

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

WARRIOR MINE

First edition. August 14, 2018.

Copyright © 2018 Pandora Spocks.

ISBN: 978-1386567004

Written by Pandora Spocks.

Also by Pandora Spocks

Rannigan's Redemption

Rannigan's Redemption Part 1: Resisting Risk

Rannigan's Redemption Part 2: Running Rogue

Rannigan's Redemption Part 3: Ransoming Redemption

Rannigan's Redemption

The Dream Dominant Collection

For Sparrow

Warrior Mine (Coming Soon)

Luke & Bella

Lost & Bound

Standalone

Just One Night

Chasing Ordinary

Watch for more at Pandora Spocks’s site.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Pandora Spocks

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

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Also By Pandora Spocks

Dedication

For my Love, my very own Happily-Ever-After.  Your belief in me helps me believe in myself.  Every hero I write has his beginning in you.  I love you beyond words!

Thank you to author Lilah E. Noir, who suggested that Scott and Jackie needed their own story.

Huge thanks and big hugs to Rita, for sharing with me your perspective on being a warrior princess.  I want to be you when I grow up.

Endless appreciation to my Indie author community, especially the Wicked Pens, for your love, support, encouragement, and advice.  You guys make me want to be the best writer I can be.

A special shout-out to my Passionistas!  I love you guys so much!  What would Man Candy Monday be without you?  (Want to be part of the fun?  Find Pandora’s Passionista Paradise on Facebook.)

In loving memory of Max, a Newfie I never met, but loved anyway.  I feel your loss deeply, and infuse your essence into Bear, the shaggy Newfoundland in this story. 

Hugs and mad love to Trizia Upton.

Chapter 1

Fuck you, man!  I’m not coming down.  And you can’t make me.

Scott Nielsen closed his eyes and slowly drew a deep, cleansing breath.  I’m getting too old for this shit. 

Mentally adjusting his professional ‘I have this under control’ game face as six other campers looked on curiously, he tilted his head to look up into the thirty-foot pine. 

Suit yourself, Sowder, he replied calmly.  The rest of us are going to the mess hall for dinner.  He turned to gaze out across the lake, then flicked his light blue eyes back to the teenager in the tree.  It’s going to be dark soon, and it’s supposed to be a cold one tonight.  But you do what you need to do.

Fuck you, man, came the sullen reply.

Scott shook his head.  Now you’re just repeating yourself. 

To the others, he said, Come on, gentlemen.  It’s chili night.  Reluctantly, the group made their way toward the trail that would lead them from the lake to the mess hall located in the center of the camp. 

Scott had been almost certain that when the errant camper saw them all leaving, he’d scramble down the tree and follow, not unlike a three-year-old throwing a tantrum.  But one last glance over his shoulder told him the young man had opted to stay exactly where he was.

See you in the morning, Sowder, he said as he followed the other boys to dinner.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Scott was up before the sun.  Truth be told, he hadn’t slept much, tossing and turning in his bunk as he thought about Sowder up in the tree all night.  He’d given the sixteen-year-old ample opportunity to climb down.  And the weather reports had assured him the evening low would remain a moderate 15°C.  The summer was shaping up to be unusually dry, too, so there was little chance that young Sowder would be at risk of hypothermia. 

Still, Scott didn’t want anyone hurt on his watch.  He’d been on staff at Crossroads Wilderness School for the last ten years, following a stint in the Army.  Much to his father’s disappointment, the idea of a regular nine-to-five job had never appealed to him, so he’d taken what he’d learned at the government’s expense, along with a lifetime of outdoors experience and a degree in psychology, and he’d forged a career as a wilderness therapist. 

Most of the campers at Crossroads were there as guests of the juvenile court system, although there was the occasional voluntary participant.  His friend Blake Walker, for example. 

Blake had come to Crossroads during Scott’s early days, following a horrific tragedy that had left the younger man emotionally shattered.  Later, Blake had returned as a fellow therapist, and the pair had forged an indelible friendship. 

Blake had moved on a few years ago, gone home to help run his family’s wilderness lodge outside of Eliot Lake.  There were definitely times when Scott considered other options.  Like last night, when Sowder refused to climb down out of the tree.

He shook his head and gazed at himself in the mirror of his Lilliputian private bathroom, not for the first time noticing tiny lines etched around his eyes.  An idea had been growing in his mind for a while now.  Maybe the time was right to consider a new venture.  Sighing deeply, he quickly pulled his long blonde hair into a messy knot at the back of his head. 

Passing his laptop on his way out of the bathroom, he stopped, pecked out a quick message, and hit ‘print.’  He folded the paper, slipped it into the pocket of his jacket, and headed outside.

Good morning, gentlemen, he said as he entered the bunkhouse.  He was greeted by a chorus of groans, which he ignored.  Up and at ‘em.  The sun is shining—well, not yet, but it will be soon.  The birds are singing, and today is a brand-new day.  Let’s take the ladder and go get your friend out of the tree, what do you say?

FOLLOWING THE END OF the breakfast rush, the silence in the empty mess hall was deafening.  Scott stirred his blue enamelware mug of coffee and surreptitiously glanced at the teen picking at his breakfast across the table from him.  He’d noticed the shift in Sowder’s attitude from surly to sheepish as soon as his fellow campers had headed out for a day-long hike into the Canadian wilderness.

How are the eggs, Sowder?

The boy shrugged indifferently.  I don’t know why I can’t go with the others, man.  It’s not fair.  While his words offered a challenge, his tone was less confrontational.

Doc says you were pre-hypothermic.  We need to get you warmed up and let you rest for the day.

It’s all your fault, man.  I can’t believe you left me up there all night.  He tried to fix his counselor with a defiant glare.

Feeling his patience wearing thin, Scott leaned forward on his elbows and arched an eyebrow sharply, saying nothing.

Outpowered by age and experience, Sowder backed down, forking another mound of scrambled eggs into his mouth.  It was fucking scary, man.  This bear came along, sniffing at the tree.  I thought I was going to die.

Language, Scott replied automatically.  The camp had rules about campers using profanity.  Anyway, you’re safe now.  Why did you go up there in the first place?

Again, the surly shrug.  I don’t know.  I got mad.

You got mad.

Yeah, man, I don’t know.  Everybody got their fire right but me.  He used his fork to aimlessly push his eggs across his plate.

And so you climbed a tree and refused to get down.

The teen snorted.  "No, man, that would be stupid.  Paulsen laughed at me, you know.  Pissed me off."

Eyes sparkling, Scott suppressed a smile and waited. 

Sowder looked up.  What?!

You tell me.

The boy shifted his jaw around.  It was a dumb-ass move, he mumbled.

Not your most shining moment, to be sure, Scott agreed, but you live, and you learn, right?  What will you do next time?

Take his fucking head off, he answered before stuffing his mouth with more eggs.

Scott cleared his throat and flashed his sternest look. 

Fuck me, man!  Sowder raised his hands in mock surrender.

Okay, you have extra dishwashing duty tonight for the profanity.  And since you’re not out hiking today, I’d suggest that you spend some time practicing your primitive fire building.  Jason is a great resource when it comes to bow drills, Scott offered, mentioning one of the other counselors. 

"He’s working with the younger guys today.  If you head over to the pavilion and ask nicely, maybe he’ll help you out."  Scott figured the other counselor would also have the patience to work with the young man. 

Why can’t you help me? he asked forlornly.

Because, my man, Scott beamed at him as he pushed away from the table, I have the weekend off.  But, he clapped the boy on the shoulder, I’ll be back in time to leave for our two-weeker on Monday.  Get a handle on that fire building, and you can be on fire detail Monday night.

WHEN SCOTT AND SOWDER left the mess hall, the younger man wandered off in the direction of the pavilion.  Scott watched him for a moment, then took a deep breath and headed toward the camp’s administrative offices. 

Taking a deep breath, Scott pulled open the glass door and entered the lobby.  Hey, Soledad, how’s it going? he grinned at the short brunette woman behind the front counter.

Hi, Scott!  Aren’t you supposed to be off for the weekend?

Yeah, I’m on my way.  I just...  He hooked a thumb down the hallway.  Is he in?

Sure, go on back, she smiled.

Scott moved off down the hallway and stopped outside the open office of Ryan Davis, the director of Crossroads, and its chief therapist.  He knocked on the doorframe.  The other man was on the phone, but he motioned for Scott to come in. 

As Scott sank into a beige upholstered chair across from the large oak desk, Ryan rolled his eyes.  Yes, I understand, but you know we have rules here that are intended to be for the good of the students.  Your son will have phone privileges tomorrow, and he can call you then.

Scott couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but he could tell that Ryan’s statement did not go over well.  Ryan nodded, keeping his tone calm and conciliatory.  Absolutely, I know you’re concerned about your child, and I promise, he’ll be able to call you tomorrow.  He nodded again.  Okay, Mrs. Dunn, Brandon will call you tomorrow.  Have a good day.

Ryan replaced the telephone receiver and sighed.  Some things never change.  ‘Yes, my child needs structure, but I want to be able to break the rules anytime I please.’

Scott shook his head, wondering how the program director dealt with campers and parents.  And they wonder why their kids are so out of hand.

Right? Ryan agreed.  What can I do for you, Scott?

Well, Scott began.  He reached into his pocket and removed the letter he’d composed before breakfast, sliding it across the desk.  I need to give you my two weeks’ notice.

Frowning, Ryan perused the brief letter.  Wow, Scott, that’s...unexpected.  You’ve been here longer than I have.  He looked back to Scott.

I know.  And I don’t mean to leave you in the lurch.  I’m off this weekend, then I’ll be back to do the two-week camping trip.  But I’m burned out.  I’m starting to feel like I don’t have much to offer these kids anymore.  It’s time to do something different. 

Wow, Ryan repeated, leaning back in his chair.  What are you thinking of doing?  I’m asking as a friend, not as a boss.

Scott grinned.  I want to start my own wilderness survival school.  You know, work with adults who want to learn primitive survival skills.

Ryan laughed, linking his fingers behind his head.  Oh, yeah?  That sounds pretty good.  Clients come voluntarily, and you don’t have to deal with parents?  Maybe in a couple of years, you’ll have a position for me?

Absolutely, Scott grinned.  Just give me a call.

Chapter 2

Jackie Walker Fox glanced over at her children peering eagerly out the window as their Air Canada flight touched down in Tampa.  Eight-year-old Grant and six-year-old Emma had chattered excitedly during the entire three-hour flight from Toronto.

Seeing them so happy thrilled Jackie.  Grant and Emma were generally happy children, truthfully, despite the fact that their father had left the three of them a few years earlier.  David Fox hadn’t appreciated the remoteness of Lake Miranda Lodge, the family-run northern Ontario guest lodge where Jackie and her brother Blake had been raised. 

Of course, both Jackie and Blake had grown up and left Lake Miranda, going their own ways.  But when their father Jim had suffered a stroke, Jackie had volunteered to return to run the place, so their parents could retire to Florida.  She and her now-ex-husband David had made it work for a while, but he’d missed his suburban life...and his girlfriend, she’d found out later.

Fiercely independent and determined though she was, raising her children solo while running the day to day operations at the lodge had proven nearly beyond her ability, so when Blake had given up his job as a wilderness counselor and returned home to help, she’d been more than grateful.  Together, along with a small staff, they were slowly bringing the family business into the twenty-first century. 

Not that the lodge was always booked to capacity.  There were times when Jackie worried whether they’d be able to stay afloat.  But with Blake’s help, they’d expanded the property to include several remote cabins, accessible by Blake’s bush plane. 

As the airliner’s aisle began to clear, Jackie stood and reached into the overhead bin to retrieve her black carry-on.  Get all your things, she instructed the children.  Let’s go see Grandma and Grandpa.

EVEN BEFORE THE CHILDREN saw them, Jackie spied her parents waiting just beyond the secure area.  She grinned broadly and waved, alerting Grant. 

Grandpa!  Grandma! he shouted, running to meet them. 

Emma, not to be outdone, was right on his heels, launching herself into her grandfather’s arms. 

Hi, sweet stuff, Ann Walker said, hugging her grandson tightly.  I’m so happy to see you.

Grandma guess what? Emma squealed, releasing her grandfather.  We’re going to Disney!

Eyes wide, Ann clapped her hands together.  I know!  I heard your exciting news.  But I’m so glad you’re going to visit with us for a little bit first.  We live on the beach.

Emma frowned.  You live on the beach?  Doesn’t your stuff get all sandy?  What do you do when it rains?

Grant rolled his eyes.  "They don’t live on the beach, dummy.  They live in a condom on the beach."

"That’s condo, there, chief, Jackie laughed.  How are you, Mom and Dad?"  She hugged each of them affectionately. 

We’re just fine, beautiful, her father said.  Months of therapy had done wonders, Jackie saw.  While the stroke had been mild, Jim Walker had undergone intensive rehabilitation, regaining his speech and the near-unlimited use of his right side.  He had only a slight limp to remind them of the stroke that had prompted the couple’s retirement. 

What do you say, we go get your bags, and on the drive home, we’ll stop for ice cream? Ann was saying as she took a child on each hand.

Yes!  Ice cream! Emma shouted, pumping a fist in the air.

Jackie laughed, slipping an arm around her father’s waist.  These kids are going to be so spoiled by the time we get back to Lake Miranda.

Jim winked at her.  You’re welcome!

A SMILE PLAYED ON JACKIE’S lips as she watched Grant and Emma scamper at the water’s edge.  She let out a deep, gratifying sigh. 

How is the business, sweetie? her mother asked. 

Jackie stretched out her right leg, extending her toes beyond the circle of shade created by the huge red and blue umbrella her father had erected over their trio of beach chairs. 

It’s going really well, she smiled.  Blake and I are working on sprucing up the place a bit, you know, painting and that.  And the remote cabins are very popular.  We get lots of repeat business.

But you’ve closed down for six weeks? her father asked.

Yes, and no.  Jackie frowned slightly.  We have a guest who has rented out the whole place for six weeks.  Paid three times what we would have taken in, had the entire place been booked for the same time.

One guest? Jim asked.

Jackie nodded.  Yep.

Ann shook her head.  But that’s just...well, who on earth would do that?

Pursing her lips, Jackie debated with herself.  She’d signed a nondisclosure agreement.  Blake had, too.  Breaking that agreement would result in the lodge having to refund the very payment that had allowed Jackie and the kids to make the trip to Florida.  The money that was paying for the cosmetic maintenance they were doing to the lodge and cabins while they had the downtime.  One single guest wouldn’t demand all their time.  And the place needed to be spiffed up a bit.

Glancing sideways at her parents, Jackie lowered her voice.  I’m not supposed to tell anyone.  We had to sign legal papers and everything.

Jim and Ann watched her expectantly.

Shasta Pyke is staying with us for six weeks.  She rented out the whole place because she wants absolute privacy.  Blake and I could be in big trouble for saying anything about her.

Jackie’s mother gaped at her.  "Shasta Pyke, the actress?"

That’s the one, Jackie nodded.  I don’t know if you saw it on the news, but she was arrested a while back after she attacked her ex-boyfriend and his wife at a restaurant.  I think she’s looking to lay low for a while.

But, Ann sputtered, why on earth would she come to our little outpost?

Jackie shrugged.  I have no idea.  But when they made their offer, I couldn’t say no.  The kids and I get a little R&R, we get to do some of the painting I’ve been wanting to do...  And we were able to reschedule the other guests, so it’s really win-win.

Shasta Pyke, imagine that, Ann said dreamily.  She turned and looked at Jackie.  Did you get to meet her?

Yes, I did, Jackie chuckled humorlessly.  She came with her... she waved her hand vaguely, "handler, or whatever.  He took care of all the arrangements.  Apparently, she couldn’t be bothered."

Ann’s expression was pained.  She wasn’t nice?  That’s a shame.

"She took one look at the cabins and said she refused to stay in one of our ‘little shacks’.  Her words.  I assured her we’d put her in the island cabin."

The island cabin? her father asked.  But that one doesn’t have electricity or running water.

Mischief sparkled in Jackie’s eyes.  I know, she grinned.  Bet about now, she’s wishing she’d opted for one of the little shacks.  The three of them giggled. 

Still, her mother said, it’s nice that you and the children could come down to visit.

It is, Jackie agreed.  When we get back, I imagine Blake will be ready to tag-team taking care of our guest.  Maybe he’ll come down to see you for a couple of weeks.

That would be lovely, wouldn’t it, Jim?  She looked to her husband, who nodded. 

Later that evening before she went to bed, Jackie took a moment to email her brother a few of the pictures she’d taken of their parents and the kids. 

HOW ABOUT I TAKE EVERYONE to dinner? Jim Walker offered.

Grant and Emma responded in unison.  Yeah!

Dad, you don’t have to take us out, said Jackie.

Oh, let your father show you off, her mother laughed.  He’s been telling everyone at Salty Dog that his grandkids are coming.

Laughing lightly, Jackie headed to the guest room to change.  Before she joined the others, she decided to call home and leave a quick message for Blake.  She was surprised when he picked up.  Baby brother!  I figured I’d just leave a message.  How’s everything going? 

Hey, sis, things are fine here.  How’s Florida?  Jackie could hear the grin in his voice.

Fan-tabulous!  A beach vacation is just what I needed.  How are things with our guest?  She giggled, waiting to hear the horror stories of life with their demanding visitor.

Great.  We’re doing just fine. 

Was it her imagination, or did he sound like he was hedging?  "So, you’re getting along with the princess, then?"

Blake hesitated for a microsecond.  Oh, you know, she’s not as bad as all that.  I think you just caught her on a bad day.

Jackie shook her head in disbelief.  Ha!  Say it isn’t so!  You haven’t gone and fallen for Shasta Pyke, have you?  She’s got you wrapped around her little finger?

How long have you known me?  Since when has anybody had me wrapped around their little finger?

Two words.  Grant, and Emma.  Even though Blake couldn’t see her, she held up two fingers.

Yeah, well, that’s different.  They’re family.  I’m just saying, once you get to know her, she’s pretty nice.

Yeah, I’m sure.  Listen, we head to Disney the day after tomorrow.  We’ll be there for a week, and then we’ll be home.  I’ll tag-team you in dealing with ‘her highness.’

Again, there was a brief moment’s hesitation.  Okay, sis, sounds good.  You guys have fun and we’ll see you when you get back.

Chapter 3

If you didn’t know what it was, you’d never guess the nondescript building in downtown Toronto was a BDSM club.  It was just any other mid-century brick and glass box, neither tall nor short, and it was within walking distance of Scott’s studio apartment.  Which was one of the deciding factors when he’d leased the tiny abode, a place to leave his things when he was working in the wilderness, a place to lay his head when he was in the city.

He hadn’t been to the club in several months, and he looked forward to blowing off some steam with a willing submissive.  Or two.  Unlike Blake, who was a confirmed Daddy Dom, Scott vacillated between types of submissives he liked to play with. 

He could be a Daddy, but truthfully, littles were exhausting.  More power to Blake, though, he thought.

He could be a Master to a slave, but that was also not exactly his preference either.  He enjoyed impact play as much as the next Dom, but he just didn’t have it in him to be a sadist.

Once he got into the club, he’d check in with the Dungeon Master and see if there was a list of unattached subs looking to play. 

As he waited for security to check his credentials, he caught his reflection in the glass door.  On a normal day at Crossroads, his beard would be scruffy, and he’d be dressed in worn jeans and a t-shirt, or a flannel shirt if it was cool.  His long blonde hair would be plaited into a braid down his back, just to keep it out of the way. 

Here in the city, he’d shaved, leaving only a neat blond goatee.  His hair was pulled into a messy knot at the back of his head, and he wore black jeans paired with a black dress shirt, open at the neck, the cuffs folded up to reveal tattooed sleeves on strong forearms earned in the wilderness.  Altogether, not a bad look.  He felt confident he’d be able to scratch the itch by the end of the night. 

When security waved him through, he entered the main floor of the club, the walls draped with sheer white fabric, glowing red in the light of occasionally placed wall sconces.  He glanced around to assess the Saturday night crowd.  As expected, the place was busy. 

Scott saw dozens of members, kinksters of various types.  Some were dressed as he was, in average street clothes.  Others wore leather fetish gear, men and women, both Dominant and submissive.  Some of the subs wore skimpy lingerie, and he saw one male sub dressed only in a gold lamé banana hammock. 

Scott shook his head.  Never in a million years.  Suppressing a grin, he headed for the bar. 

He’d just ordered a whiskey on the rocks when he heard his name.  Sir Scott!  It’s been a while.  How are you?  A tall dark-haired man in an expensive charcoal grey suit greeted him. 

Scott grinned, reaching to shake the man’s hand.  "I’m great, Sir Devin.  It has been a while.  How have things been?"

Devin, one of the co-owners of the club, scanned the room with a proud smile.  The club is doing well.  He gave Scott a sidelong glance.  I keep hoping you’ll accept a position on the board of directors.

Scott laughed.  I don’t know, my brother.  I’m not a ‘board of directors’ kind of guy.

Devin laughed, too.  Well, we just vetted a new class of members, fairly equally Doms and subs.  Last week, we had a Kinbaku demonstration that drew a huge crowd.  We may begin offering classes.

I would love to have seen it, Scott said, shaking his head.  Work keeps me busy.

But you’re not working tonight, Devin observed, sipping his drink.

No, I’m not, thankfully.

We have a few unattached subs hoping to play with a Dom tonight.  If that strikes your fancy.  He watched Scott with interest.

I’m definitely in the mood to play tonight.  Scott grinned at his friend. 

Squinting thoughtfully, Devin nodded toward a couple of women seated at the opposite end of the bar.  "Shelly over there is a little.  And Jade, beside her, is a slave.  I’m sure you can tell which is which."

Scott followed his gaze.  One of the women, Shelly presumably, wore a pink baby doll nighty, her blonde hair tied in pigtails.  Jade, on the other hand, her jet-black hair cut severely, was dressed in a black beaded bustier with spaghetti straps and a matching black thong. 

Daddy or Master?  Scott tossed the honorifics around in his mind.  Just then, a Dom approached the women and held out his hand to Shelly.  Scott couldn’t hear what was said, but the submissive smiled shyly and accepted his hand, sliding off her stool and leaving her friend behind.

Scott grinned at Devin.  Looks like Master it is.

Devin clapped him on the shoulder.  Indeed.  Sir Brandon beat you to it.  He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and removed a slip of paper, handing it to Scott.  Slave Jade’s limits.  Have a wonderful evening, Sir Scott.

Scott perused the list as he headed toward the other end of the bar.  Devin called after him.  I hope you reconsider about the board of directors.  Scott just laughed lightly, waving back at the man.

Approaching the submissive, Scott adjusted his countenance to serious Dominant.  He took the stool beside her, and when she looked up at him, he gave his best arched eyebrow.  Good evening, slave.

Immediately, the woman’s gaze dropped.  Good evening, Master.

I’m Master Scott.  Would you care to play with me tonight?

She flicked her eyes to his face for the briefest of moments and returned her gaze to the floor.  If that would please you, Master Scott.

Scott suppressed a gratified smile.  It had been way too long since the last time he’d played.  Hopefully, that would change when he left Crossroads for good.  His time would be his own, and he’d be free to visit the club more often. 

Or to find a submissive of his own.  That might be nice.  He shook his head and returned to the moment.

Sir Devin gave me your limits.  Do you have anything to add, slave?

She shook her head.  No, Master Scott.

Good.  He slid off the stool and held out his hand to her.  I’m in the mood to watch some scenes.  You may walk beside me for now, and you will carry my drink.

Yes, Master Scott.  Dutifully, she took his glass from him, and they headed to the stairs leading to the second floor.

Good slave, Scott murmured, cupping her ass with his hand.  Maybe you can earn a reward before the end of the night.

While the downstairs was a large open space with bars at either end and dotted in the middle with conversation groupings of sofas and chairs, the upstairs was different.  In open alcoves off a wide central corridor, Dominants and submissives were engaged in various scenes.  A few black leather barrel chairs were arranged before each opening, and more were available to be moved into place. 

In the first room, a leather-clad Domme cracked a whip toward a male submissive who was bent over and restrained in old-fashioned stocks.

Scott glanced at Jade, who kept her eyes downcast.  With a hand on the small of her back, he continued forward to the next room.  There, a bare-chested Master Dominant in leather pants was just fastening a nude female slave, spread eagle, to a St. Andrews Cross. 

I’m intrigued.  We’ll watch this one.  I need a chair, slave.  Eyebrow arched, he watched Jade try to decide what to do first.  She’d been placed in charge of his drink, but she couldn’t hold the glass and carry a chair.  Now, slave, he snapped, his voice dangerously low.

I...well, she flicked her gaze up to his face and back down again.

What is it, slave?  Why do you not comply with my command?  He pursed his lips to stop his smile.

I’m afraid I’m going to spill your drink, Master Scott, she confessed.

Are you asking me to hold my own drink when I’ve made it clear that it’s your responsibility?

"Yes, Master Scott.  I mean, no, Master Scott.  I mean, she looked to him for help.  I mean, will you please hold your drink until I get your chair?"

He snatched the glass from her hand and watched her scuttle away to find a chair.  She returned quickly, setting the chair beside him, and taking the glass from his hands. 

You’ve earned punishment, slave, he said, his voice low.  For now, you may kneel beside my chair.  Be sure you have my drink ready when I want it.

Jade nodded quickly.  Yes, Master Scott.

Several others had gathered to watch the scene, and by the time Scott was settled, the Dominant had placed a black ball gag on his submissive and was in the process of attaching silver clover clamps to her nipples.

Scott rested his left hand on Jade’s shoulder as they watched the Dom position a vibrating wand at his sub’s bare pussy.  Immediately, her head lolled back, and she let out a moan the gag didn’t stop. 

Glancing around, Scott saw that the other observers were watching with rapt attention.  He motioned to a passing server wearing a black topless bustier and a sheer tulle skirt.  She was carrying a small iPad.  I’d like to reserve a playroom.

Certainly, Sir Scott.  The collared brunette submissive tapped on her tablet.  We have Playroom 7 available in forty-five minutes.  Would that please you?

He smiled at the woman.  Playroom 7 in forty-five minutes.  It pleases me immensely.  And tell Sir Jake I said hello.

She smiled back at him.  I will do that, Sir Scott.  Your reservation is complete.  She glanced at Jade.  Enjoy your evening.

Scott turned his attention back to the scene unfolding before them.  Having endured several minutes of forced orgasm, the submissive writhed as much as her bonds would allow.  Her Dom reached forward and removed one of the nipple clamps, earning a muffled scream from the overstimulated slave.  Her release splashed down her legs and onto the floor below her.

Feeling his body responding to the scene before him, Scott reached for his glass.  His erection pressed uncomfortably against the confines of his jeans.  He gripped Jade’s shoulder, and she glanced his way.

Service my cock, slave.  He’d read her list, knew that she enjoyed giving head.  Still, he stopped her as she knelt between his feet.  Safe words, slave?

Red for stop, yellow for slow down, Master Scott.

He nodded.  Use them if you need to.  Now go ahead.  And you will swallow every drop.

The greedy gleam in her eye made him even harder as she unfastened his pants and released his cock.  In high school sports, and certainly in the Army, Scott had had occasion to use communal showers, and he knew he was bigger than most men he’d known.  He was also reasonably sure that this slave could take all of him, though here in the crowd might not be the best place to test his theory.  But there was always Room 7. 

His eyes rolled back, and he stifled a sigh as the slave took him in her mouth.  For a moment, he leaned back his head and closed his eyes, relishing the intimate ministrations from the slave at his feet. 

Another muffled scream brought his attention back to the scene in the playroom.  The Dom had removed the other nipple clamp and the sub still convulsed in climax.

As Jade took Scott deeper into her throat, the Dominant removed the vibrating wand and began to unfasten the woman from her bonds.  When her legs threatened to buckle, the Dom supported her, murmuring softly into her ear. 

He led her to a table, where he bent her over face down.  She lay panting, her eyes closed, as he released his erection, quickly sheathed it with a condom, and roughly impaled her from behind. 

Scott felt his moment nearing.  He placed a hand on Jade’s head.  I’m coming, he grunted softly.  Don’t spill a drop.

Encouraged, she increased her suction and made her movements faster as he exploded into her throat.  Not missing a beat, she drained him, swallowing every last pulse of his essence. 

As his orgasm slowed, he rested a shaky hand on top of her head.  That was, he panted, "passable, slave.  You may have worked off some of your punishment."

She allowed him a wry glance before returning her gaze to the floor.  As she put Scott back together, the Dom in the scene gathered the nude submissive into his arms and sank onto a chair like the ones the observers were sitting in.  He rocked her gently, murmuring softly into her ear.

Scott sighed with longing.  Aftercare was non-negotiable as far as he was concerned.  Whatever your D/s dynamic, Master/slave, Daddy Dom/baby girl, no matter, as a Dominant, when you finished playing a scene, you had to take