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  The Art of Submission

  by

  Lavender Daye

  The Art of Submission

  copyright © 2014 by Lavender Daye

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations

  cover art by Hot Damn Designs

  Table of Contents

  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

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  “Her? There are Mark Harrison leaned against the back edge of the reception desk and appreciated the long line of leg the night’s hostess offered. The plunging neckline and barely-there skirt left just enough to the imagination to entice even the hardcore members of Private Delights. Nothing quite like a beautiful woman to make a man appreciate life and all its pleasures. Her hands came up to rearrange her hair, pulling it back to reveal almost bare shoulders. She was a vision in smooth skin and he appreciated the sight. Not a bad way to pass the time while he waited for his best friend to arrive. He checked his watch. Steve was late, so he spent a few minutes contemplating what he could do with the submissive in front of him while he waited. A few salacious thoughts came to mind, but she wasn’t for him tonight.

  No, tonight he’d be discussing his club with a researcher.

  Mark pondered for the tenth time today why he’d agreed to this. His club, his baby, was filled with paying members. His desk was clean for the first time in a month, and a glance through the evening’s roster showed several submissives in the house, semi-naked and willing to give him anything he wanted. Instead, he waited for an unknown woman to push her way into his private domain and ask questions.

  Damn Steve and his over-eager submissive for convincing him to take on this girl. Research was the last thing he needed in this business. There were already too many stories about BDSM floating through the media, and he didn’t want to add to the melee.

  Dena was adamant that her friend from school was a legitimate researcher, working on a master’s degree in behavioral science with an emphasis on sexuality. And while he liked Dena and trusted Steve with his life, he wasn’t too sure about the college friend and her agenda.

  The frosted glass door opened. Two twenty-something girls dressed in leather didn’t bother looking in his direction, just turned left and disappeared down the hall leading to the public club. Loud music and wannabes. Paying customers in a make believe world of dominance and submission, they’d dance and drink and get off in one of the private rooms in the back of the club, but they had no idea what they were truly missing.

  True participation in the lifestyle wasn’t for everyone and he had no desire to enlighten them.

  The door opened again and his receptionist smiled at Dena, then dropped her gaze to chest height when Steve came to the podium.

  “Master,” she said, her tone clear and cool as she addressed him.

  As lovely as she was, Steve gave her a cursory glance and swiped his card through the reader. Mark muted his smirk, warned many times by his business partner to cut the comments about his enchantment of Miss Lindsay.

  Mark left his spot behind the desk and shook the man’s hand, nodding at Dena until she lowered her eyes. In a social setting, traditional customs were observed, but within the confines of the club, respectful obedience was required.

  Behind her, a petite blonde waited to be introduced. Striking bone structure set her apart from the crowd. Her heart-shaped face captivated almost as much as the gray-blue eyes and thick lashes. Best of all, she wasn’t a waif of a woman. Her proportions were perfect, nicely rounded in the right places, while her slim legs enticed even in the moderate heels she’d chosen to wear. If this was Dena’s researcher friend, he’d gladly take on the job and train her well.

  “Anything happening tonight?” Steve asked. “Parking lot is heavy. What am I missing?”

  “Most of the traffic is through the bar. One of the regulars is hosting a birthday party.”

  Steve lifted his chin, his eyes going to half-mast. “Didn’t know we did that. Are you sending entertainment?”

  Mark’s eyes were all for the new girl while he answered. “I sent an email around for volunteers. Nothing official, but I made the membership aware of the situation.”

  Completely out of her domain, the woman’s gaze wandered with no idea of protocol, and Mark shifted his focus to Dena. She should have clued the visitor in on the rules.

  “What exactly did you suggest, my friend?” Steven Gladston looked like what he was, former military with a tough streak a mile wide. He was the best security man in the state and could smell trouble or its potential from a mile away.

  Dragging his eyes off the woman and back to Steve, Mark caught the man’s eye, then tipped his head at the blonde. “Nothing too explicit. I don’t expect to get any new members from the party goers, but a little glimpse might boost attendance at the bar. As long as we don’t get raided, I’m okay with whatever they want to do.”

  Without turning his head, Steve said, “Dena, introduce your guest.”

  To her credit, the visiting researcher took one look at her friend and realized she was out of compliance. Her eyes dropped and her cheeks reddened.

  “Master Mark, please meet Kellie Windsor.”

  Mark moved closer to the girl and offered his hand, making sure it was within her vision. Without lifting her head, the woman grasped his hand. Soft and pliant, her fingers closed around his for just a moment and he felt a hesitance in her grasp. Was she nervous or afraid? He threw a quick glance at Dena, sure she’d said this woman wanted to meet him. If this was some sort of matchmaking setup for him, he had no desire to participate.

  Ms. Windsor’s chin lifted, and he got a clear look into her mindset when their eyes met. A hint of nervous energy flickered, most likely from the club’s reputation. She wanted to be here, but didn’t know what to expect. A subtle touch of defiance shone in her eyes. Sure of herself, she didn’t plan to stay long enough to submit to any man.

  Interest turned his pilot light from low to medium. He loved a challenge.

  “Perhaps we should get acquainted in my office. I’d like to hear more about your project before I agree to your research.”

  Her head swiveled to Dena and she grabbed her friend’s wrist, but before Dena could comment, the young lady’s shoulder’s squared and her eyes found his again.

  “I’m not sure how much you know about the workings of Private Delights, so I’ll give you the short version on the way to my office. Come.” He turned his back to her and headed for the back hall.

  If she followed, good. If not, her loss. She’d learn
obedience or go home. A glance at one of the well-placed reflective surfaces cued him to her compliance. For the moment, he was stuck with her. If the night went to shit, Miss Dena might find herself apologizing on her knees in front of him. Time was pleasure and he didn’t appreciate wasting it.

  “Participants are labeled as dominants or submissives, also known as tops and bottoms. Most of our members prefer to keep their membership private, so before we wander into any of the public or private areas of the club, I’ll need you to sign some paperwork. Just a standard non-disclosure affidavit, along with a few other sub-clauses.”

  He stopped to wait for the elevator and looked at her, expecting a question or comment. Not so. The hesitance he’d glimpsed was gone and curiosity flavored her expression more than anything else.

  “What exactly do you expect to get out of this meeting, Miss Windsor?”

  The door opened and they entered the empty car.

  “It would help me considerably, allowing me to skip over issues that don’t interest you or have no impact on your thesis.”

  The door closed and he touched the up arrow. There were two floors available within the main areas of the club. The basement, reserved for premium members, was only accessible through a secure elevator situated at the back of the second floor. “May I call you Kellie?”

  “Sure.”

  Without expression, he replied. “Good. You may address me as Master or Master Mark while we are here in my domain.”

  Her priceless expression caused a heat bloom in his chest. At first glance, she’d been timid and nervous, but, without her friend’s backup, Kellie was stronger than the little girl he’d expected. Still not quite the academic Dena had described, but much more pleasing to the eye and the senses.

  The doors slid open and he stepped out of the elevator ahead of her, knowing she’d be caught off guard. Common courtesy wasn’t the same within the club.

  Her first lesson would focus on rules and procedures.

  If she got that far.

  The upstairs hall was wide enough to allow four men to walk abreast, with luxurious patterned carpet one might find in a high-end hotel and tasteful artwork on the walls. Kellie soaked in the atmosphere and he let her. They were alone, and he wanted her to understand she wasn’t in a back room bordello or porn palace. His members had high expectations, and he stayed in business by giving them what they wanted.

  “This way, Kellie.” He led her into his office and closed the door behind her. “I think we’ll begin on the sofa.” Mark took her elbow, the first time he’d touched her since they’d shaken hands, and the tingle in his chest flared again.

  He placed her at one end of the short sofa and sat at the other end, close enough for their knees to touch if they both turned sideways.

  “Tell me about this project.” No use sugar coating her reason for being here. He wanted to get to the crux of the thing, finish the discussion, and proceed to his suggestions for her.

  Kellie popped the clasp of her purse and pulled out a slim notepad. “I’m researching human sexuality for my thesis, and with the recent phenomena in the publishing world, I wanted to focus on the whys and hows of dominance and submission. I’ve read a few books on the subject—”

  “More than a few fictional works, I hope?”

  “Umm, yes, of course.”

  “What area do you wish to explore, Kellie? Would you like to train as a submissive or as a dominant? Though, to be honest, before working through Dom training, you’d need to participate as a submissive first. A successful Dom needs to have a firm grasp of the mindset and needs of the submissive he works with.”

  “Oh. I didn’t want to actually participate. I just have a few questions.”

  Her eyelids dropped to half-mast and judging by the tight nipples punching at the blouse she wore, the little researcher was more than interested in the subject of submission.

  “Dena mentioned a tour of the club, did she not?”

  “Yes, but if that’s not possible, I understand.” Her gaze met his for a second or two before she attempted a survey of his office.

  Damn it to hell, the woman was enchanting, even with her shaking hands and the firm set to her mouth. For the first time in a few years, he was excited about the prospect of introducing a woman into his lifestyle. If Kellie Windsor had enough inner strength to come here with her questions, she’d be a hell of a submissive.

  He retrieved the folder on his desk, along with a pen, and brought them back to the sofa, settling close enough for his thigh to rub against hers. Holding the sheaf of papers in front of her, he pointed out the pertinent clauses while observing her response to his proximity. Since he would be responsible for her presence in the club, any sign of arousal would be tracked. And he’d seen several. If Miss Windsor had been oblivious to the atmosphere, he’d planned to leave her alone and let her do her little project and move on.

  But he didn’t see that happening. The spark of sensual interest was evident to him, if not consciously on her part, and she’d be his. The decision was made in a split second, but he’d wait to act on it. He was in no rush to push her, so he enjoyed the momentary contact, then pulled back. The instant relaxation of her body lit another flare under his skin.

  “Are you willing to sign, or would you prefer to have your attorney read through the document?” he asked.

  “I don’t have a problem with nondisclosure. I don’t plan to share any personal information related to the people I see here. I’ll sign.”

  Mark slipped his cell from a pocket and pushed a button. A door opened and his personal assistant arrived, pen and ledger in hand. Mildred had the woman officially cleared and the document notarized in no time and promised to have a copy prepared for Kellie before she left.

  “Now, I’m still not completely sure what you hope to see here, but I think a tour of the facilities might give you a better grasp of what goes on in my establishment.” He stood, but didn’t offer his hand to help her to her feet. “Before we leave this room, we need to discuss the mandatory courtesy protocols. Since you’re not a member, you’ll have some leeway while with me as escort, but it’s considered rude to address a Dom without permission or to look him or her in the eye.”

  “There are women Dominants?”

  “Of course. Each person takes on their own role and sometimes they switch back and forth depending on their mood. If you become a member, you’ll have the same option.”

  She muttered under her breath, nothing he could make out.

  “I didn’t get that. Could you repeat it?” he asked, damn sure she wouldn’t tell him what she was thinking. He’d already filled her head with information she hadn’t expected. “Will you follow these rules?”

  “And if I don’t?” she asked.

  “There will be consequences.”

  “What kind of ..?”

  “Here, as in life, if you break the rules, you’re punished. For today, I suggest you stick to the rules and see where they take you. On your next visit, if there is one, you might explore consequences.”

  A noticeable shimmy rolled down her body, and Mark let his eyes follow the movement from the top of her head to the waving edge of her skirt. He made a mental note to have Steve thank Dena for her little gift. Showing Miss Kellie Windsor the best of Private Delights would be the highlight of the night.

  ***

  Kellie threw her shoulders back and straightened her spine, wishing she had more control over her body and its asinine response to his every insinuation. Master? Maybe master of pain or master of illusion. If he showed her anything, it would be how belittling his little house of horrors was to women. She lowered her eyes and followed him back to the elevator.

  “We’ll start downstairs in the common rooms. You may look at anything you like, anything that interests you. If you have questions, feel free to ask.”

  Warm fingers touched her chin and he tilted her head up until their faces were inches apart. She lifted her eyes to his, getting a great view of
the hint of dark stubble on his chin and on his jawline. She fought the urge to wet her dry lips, sure he’d make something out of it she didn’t want to discuss. But when her eyes finally met his, she wanted to groan. His expression made it clear. He saw everything she didn’t want to show him as if he was reaching into her very thoughts and reading her mind. Or her body, which appeared to have a mind of its own around Mark Harrison.

  “Remember. Do not make eye contact with any of the Doms unless they ask you to look at them.”

  Kellie nodded, avoiding the use of his title. When the door opened, she waited for him to go first. From the reception desk, he led her through a set of frosted glass doors and into a space she hadn’t expected. A huge open concept room spread out before her, thick eggplant carpet as far as she could see, with rich green and ochre upholstered sofas scattered in subtle groupings.

  For one split second, she thought she’d fallen through a rabbit hole and into an elite country club. The attire of the patrons, or lack thereof, clued her to the truth.

  “This is the primary meeting room. Members often spend most of their time here, socializing with other members or entertaining their partners.” Master Mark gestured with his hand, but, didn’t touch her as he led her across the rug. Soft classical music eased out of hidden speakers and tastefully dressed waiters carried trays of appetizers and drinks.

  Not what she’d imagined. He led her to a seating area where her friends sat. Kellie blinked twice at the sight of Dena on her knees between Steve’s size thirteen shoes. The jacket her friend came in wearing had disappeared, leaving her in a blouse and a short skirt. The modest top now acted as a jacket, opened to Dena’s waist and showcasing her bare breasts.

  Two other men sat nearby, one with a woman on his lap, the other alone and sipping on a bottle of water. Dena looked up at her for a minute, not a trace of embarrassment in her face, and then focused all her attention on her man. Reluctantly, Kellie kept her eyes on Dena instead of Steve, since she didn’t want to get kicked out of the place too soon. When Steve stroked Dena’s hair and cheek, the emotion in his caress took the air out of Kellie’s chest. She’d seen them together before, but never with the deep connection she witnessed now.