Mia's Masters [Locks and Chains 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (3 page)

But it still didn’t take away the need for a woman. If only Mia, their receptionist extraordinaire by day, would turn into a kinky slut by night and want to become part of their funky family, his life would be complete. Although, after three years of her working with them and not once showing a sign of turning to the dark side, he’d given up. No, actually he would never give up fantasizing and dreaming about Mia. His favorite fantasy was of her as the meat in a manwich, with Dylan and Peter as the bread. He stifled a groan and adjusted his hard-on to a more manageable position. God, he had to stop doing this to himself.

“Yes, you do need some pleasure. I can see by the bulge in your pants. Tonight, Peter will begin as your cock slut, and I don’t want you to come till then. The anticipation will make it all the more enjoyable for you,” Dylan said.

Mathew knew he was right, and the anticipation and buildup always gave him a much more powerful orgasm. He also lasted extra-long the second time round.

“Well, boys, a sensational ending to our lunch conference, as always. Let’s get back to work. We have money to make,” Dylan said as he walked toward the door.

The erotic aroma of sex permeated the boardroom, but knowing no one would be using it for the rest of the day, there would be no need to air out the room. The sadist inside wanted to call Mia in and get her to take notes on something, forcing her to smell the scents of them. Would she even wonder what had happened when she smelled their essences? He groaned again at the thought of Mia taking any part of them into her body.
It’s official. I’m a sick bastard, and I need to focus on a new woman for my fantasies.
Their precious, innocent, and vanilla little Mia was too good, too nice for their needs.

* * * *

Mia wanted to groan out her frustration. Hearing their moans and groans for the past hour was just so unfair. She only had her battery-operated boyfriend to help her come, and he didn’t do it either as hard or as well as she’d heard them do it. Plastic was great, and her advanced, silicone, lifelike rabbit did the job. However, after a while, the thought of that silicone sliding into her body made her cringe. She dreamed of a hard cock in her hands, in her pussy, or in her mouth. Hell, at this point she’d even try it between her breasts or ass. She would just love a real cock for a change and, of course, the hot-blooded man attached to it. She drifted off into a daydream of her favorite fantasy the one of her walking into the boardroom while the men were in the middle of their sex-a-thon. She’d walk in wearing her naughtiest panties and push-up bra, looking super sexy. She would then strip in a slow, sultry way and drop to her knees and say, “How may I serve you, Masters.” Not that she thought Peter or Mathew would be her Master. But it sounded so much better than just “Master.” Dylan, no, Master Dylan, would command her to crawl to him, and then he would stroke her face lovingly. He would order Mathew and Peter to either side of her. He would turn to her and demand she take his cock into her mouth and suck him dry.
Ring, ring.
Damn. Her phone rang, and as the receptionist, it wasn’t like she could just ignore it.

As she listened to the client drawl on and on, she made a decision. If she couldn’t have her bosses, she still could try the BDSM lifestyle. She may not be like those confident women deep down, but she was smart enough to fake it. She could join one of those clubs. She knew the boys were members of a club, not that she was supposed to know. She should just join theirs. They couldn’t get upset over her being in the lifestyle if they ever found out, so her job wouldn’t be at risk. And it wasn’t like they would be interested in her. They were gay through and through. So they probably wouldn’t even bump into each other there. Maybe she could meet some really nice Dom who would make her forget them. What was the club called? God, it reminded her of a locksmith. Actually, she first thought it was a locksmith when the accounts came in the mail. It was something to do with locks.

Minimizing the work on her computer, she searched the internet for BDSM clubs in the area. After filtering through two pages of results, she found what she was looking for. The Locks and Chains club, a members-only establishment for discerning clients in the lifestyle. Clicking her mouse on the link to their website, the page loaded. From the pictures and description, it looked pretty upmarket and very safe. The website contained a heap of information on acceptable behaviors, dress codes, and the like. She downloaded the application form and started filling it out. She felt a sense of peace and excitement wash over her. She was really going to do this. She was going to join a BDSM club and take her destiny in her own hands. For once in her life, she was going be brave and sassy, and she was going to take life by the balls. Actually, that probably wasn’t a very submissive thing to think about.

Whatever, she was going to be sexy and seductive. She was going to put herself out there and say, “Come on, boys. Come get me. Make me kneel at your feet, if you’re strong enough.” She felt near giddy as she scanned the completed application together with her ID and e-mailed it back to the club. Next she booked an appointment with her doctor. The application form mentioned that, if accepted after the interview, a health status report would be necessary. She knew she would be accepted. Why wouldn’t they take her? She was healthy, not to mention reasonably young. Twenty-nine was young, wasn’t it? Thirty was now the new twenty, as they said. So what if most of her friend were married or engaged. She wasn’t over-the-hill. She was just, well she didn’t know what she was, but damn it, where did that giddy euphoria go?
 

Craig Blackwell sat at his desk looking at the membership application that had arrived three hours earlier. It had been tagged priority by his office manager because the new applicant listed not one but three of his current members as personal references. Dylan Cooper, Mathew Reed, and Peter Burke obviously knew this new prospective member. He chuckled at the thought of the trio. They were another one of his little games that had played out just as he’d planned. Peter had been about to quit the lifestyle after that bastard Damien abused him. He still felt responsible for it. He took great pride in protecting his slaves and believed he had all the bases covered to ensure they were safe. Damien had slipped through the cracks. Although to be fair, none of Damien’s other slaves or subs had complained about his mistreatment of them. Yes, he’d thought maybe something was a little off when none of Damien’s subs stayed longer than a few months with him, and his slaves never renewed their contracts. But there were no warning bells, or maybe there were and he’d just missed them.

Anyway, he’d cleaned Peter up and gotten him some psychological help. Then after Sara, the psychologist, said she thought it best he get back on the horse, so to speak, with a caring Dom who would help heal him, he had decided Dylan and Mathew were the perfect choice. No matter how serious and tough Dylan tried to portray himself, he was a big cuddly teddy bear on the inside. He knew he could trust them with Peter, and they had not only healed the boy but they had fallen in love with him. Only last month they had collared him for life.

Ok Craig, stop daydreaming and get back to the business at hand, the new applicant, Mia Randall
.

Flicking through the application and preliminary security report, he could see a problem when he looked at her photo. A sense of déjà vu hit him. He knew that face. He had seen her before. Racking his brain, he went through all the possibilities, given the connection to Dylan, Mathew, and Peter. It just wasn’t coming to mind. Looking closer at the security report, it hit him. Her employer was listed as Dylan and Mathew’s company. She was the sexy little receptionist that the boys drooled over. “Well, well, doesn’t this just get interesting,” he said to himself. He checked the psychological tests within her application, and there she was, a perfect little sub. There was no way that Dylan and Mathew knew about this. They would have brought her in themselves if she was with them. This meant that she was testing the waters. If she wanted to dive into the lifestyle, then he had the perfect swimming instructors for her.

Craig dialed her cell phone and waited for her to answer. He had a decision to make. Should he let her join and then spring her on the boys? Or let the boys know before she joined? Dylan had a tendency to go off the handle with his possessiveness. In a lot of ways, he reminded him a hell of a lot of Michael Cooper before Grace tamed him. After what Michael did to almost fuck up that relationship, nearly losing it all, he made his decision.

“Ms. Randall, this is Craig Blackwell from the Locks and Chains Club. I’ve received your application, and I’d like you to come and have an interview with me in my office tomorrow.” He heard the short, shallow pants on the other end of the phone. Dylan’s little Mia was in a little over her head. She pulled herself together, though, and answered.

“Really, thank you so much. What time?”

If not for her earlier heavy breathing, he would never have known she’d been nervous.

“How about 11:00 a.m.?”

“Could we make it 12:00 p.m. so I can come in on my lunch break?”

“Sure, not a problem.” Actually that would probably work out much better for the second part of his plan.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Blackwell,” Mia said gratefully.

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow at twelve noon sharp. I expect punctuality from future submissive members.” He made it a command to ensure she wouldn’t be late. After disconnecting the call, he then dialed the next number on his mental list.

“Dylan, how are you?”

“I’m good. What can I do for you, Craig, or is this a social call?”

“Well yes, I thought I’d invite you and the boys to the club for lunch tomorrow. Say 12:30 p.m. if you’re free,” he said, trying to suppress his grin.

“We can make it, and I know Peter would love it.”

“I would love to see how he’s doing after the collaring. You boys haven’t been by the club since.”

“No, business is busy these days, and we had some catching up to do. Not to mention our honeymoon, which keep us quite busy.” Dylan snickered.

“Tomorrow then, you boys can tell me all about it.” All the pieces were set on his board, and all he needed to do now was sit back and watch the fireworks.

* * * *

Mia was so nervous. She couldn’t believe what she was about to do. She had tried on at least five different outfits this morning, unsure what she should wear to a BDSM club membership interview. She also remembered that he knew she would be coming from work. She had settled on a pair of black pants with a deep-blue, silk button-up shirt. It was conservative, but the silk added at touch of sexiness without being cheap. She was so on edge that she jumped at every sound all morning until finally, it was time to leave. She wanted to be fifteen minutes early just in case she struck trouble on the way over. She definitely didn’t want to be late. Thankfully, Mathew informed her that he, Dylan, and Peter would be having a lunch meeting out of the office, so she didn’t need to worry about being a little bit late back.

Mia walked into the Locks and Chains Club and was surprised by the décor. It looked like any high-priced supper club, definitely not the dungeon she was expecting. There were small and larger groupings of contemporary-styled sofas and club chairs arranged around the large room. The floors were covered in thick, neutral carpeting. Over to the left was a large bar area with stools and more seating, and over to the right there was what appeared to be a small stage and a dance floor. Overhead, there was a mezzanine level with a sumptuous dining room just visible from below, with wide carpeted stairs leading up to it. There were beautiful, modern, erotic statues and paintings everywhere. The whole place, from what she could see, was elegant, wealthy, and comfortable.

So this is the place where the boys come for fun.
She liked the feel of the place at first sight, and it wasn’t anything like how she’d imagined it. She approached the bar and asked the woman there for directions to Craig Blackwell’s office. After a call to confirm her appointment, the woman smiled and pointed to a door just visible at the top of the stairs.

Walking up toward her fate, she tried to mentally prepare herself for the next confrontation. She could do this. She knew she could. As she entered Craig Blackwell’s office, she was struck by how old and sumptuous his furniture was compared to the modern club below. The man behind the desk was gorgeous, and she had to swallow repeatedly in an attempt to squash her suddenly dry throat. His piercing green eyes were nearly as commanding as Dylan’s. Maybe even more so, although she didn’t feel the same connection she felt with Dylan and Mathew. She didn’t understand why she wanted to serve Mathew as much as she did Dylan. She just knew she did. Thankfully, Peter was her playful friend. Wait, why in hell was she thinking of them now?
Clear your mind, girl. Get back on track and focus on joining the club and finding a Dom to live happily and kinkily ever after with.

“Welcome, Ms. Randall”

“Thank you, Mr. Blackwell. Please call me Mia,” she replied, still feeling intimidated by the great big man who, frankly, scared her a bit.

“So you have applied for membership of my club as a submissive?”

“Yes. I…well, I’m new to this, but from everything I’ve researched, I’m a submissive.” She felt as though she was under a microscope.

“Have you considered a slave option?”