didn’t see them.
Leave. Leave now.
The urge to run was humming through me, but that was
ridiculous. Master Clay probably wanted to see me after last night. Maybe he’d
seen me dancing with Brad and thought I’d slept with him. I’d tell him that I
hadn’t, and admit that I’d kissed Brad if he asked. Master Clay wouldn’t care.
After all, he’d never kissed me.
I frowned. I hadn’t realized until now that Master Clay had
never kissed me. That was so strange—he’d touched me, used me, but never kissed
me.
I stripped off my clothes and took a few minutes to apply
some makeup. I’d taken a shower when I got back last night but hadn’t blow-dried
my hair. There wasn’t much I could do about it, so I scrubbed my fingers
through it, hoping for a tousled look.
Naked, I stepped into the Marquis’ Quarters.
“Leona.”
Master Clay was waiting for me. I jumped and looked at him
before I remembered that I shouldn’t and dropped my eyes.
He grabbed my upper arm and marched me across the room.
“M-master Clay.” The greeting cracked and I was suddenly so
nervous I felt sick.
“You were at the gala last night.” He pushed me up against
the wooden post. “Arms up.”
I lifted my hands over my head, aware of how my hands were
shaking. “Yes, Master.”
“You spoke with me.”
“I…I called you Clay, Master.”
“I told you that outside of this room I was Clay. Outside of
my house you are never to address me. What you did showed an utter lack of
judgment.” Master Clay put a hand on my back and forced me against the post,
then wrapped a strap over my wrists, pressing them against the wood.
“I’m sorry, Master Clay. I thought…” I turned my head, my
cheek against the smooth wood. He added a second strap around my waist.
“Clay and Master Clay are the names I use for BDSM. You
risked exposing a part of my life I keep private by using it.”
“I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
“Put one foot on either side of the post.”
I adjusted my feet, spreading them just enough so that I was
positioned the way he’d ordered. He added a third strap around my calves.
“Are you angry with me, Master?”
“I was angry, but now I’m disappointed.” Master Clay grabbed
my hair, pulling my head back until we were looking at each other. “Oh Leona,
someday you will be the kind of woman who could topple kingdoms—a modern-day
courtesan. Your submission will one day be the most elegant gift a master could
hope for. Right now you are young and foolish. You risked not only my privacy
but your own. The man I was speaking with is on the LACMA board of directors.
He didn’t hear you, but if he had you would have lost your internship.”
“I didn’t know. I was… I’m so sorry. Master, please.”
He released my hair. “I warned you that I do not take true
punishments lightly. Your behavior last night was beyond the pale. You will be
punished.”
I was scared. Truly scared of him and the situation I was
in. I jerked against the straps. “Master, please, no.”
“This is what you need, Leona.”
“Then yellow,” I blurted out the word. “Red.”
“Leona, the stoplight safe word system is for sessions. Not
for punishments.”
Horror filled me. That had been my way out. If I couldn’t
use a safeword then I was truly trapped.
“Master…it was a mistake. Please. Red.”
I heard him walk away, heard doors opening and closing.
“You will feel pain but not be permanently damaged. What I
do to you now will be something that perhaps in a few years after your pain
tolerance has developed you would see as foreplay. For now it will be painful,
and the experience of the punishment is both degrading and humiliating. You
will not forget this, and in future you will use better judgment.”
There was no warning save a whistling noise before the first
strike landed across my bare ass.
Shock insulated me, the thought “this can’t be happening”
masking the pain for a moment. When the second
Leave. Leave now.
The urge to run was humming through me, but that was
ridiculous. Master Clay probably wanted to see me after last night. Maybe he’d
seen me dancing with Brad and thought I’d slept with him. I’d tell him that I
hadn’t, and admit that I’d kissed Brad if he asked. Master Clay wouldn’t care.
After all, he’d never kissed me.
I frowned. I hadn’t realized until now that Master Clay had
never kissed me. That was so strange—he’d touched me, used me, but never kissed
me.
I stripped off my clothes and took a few minutes to apply
some makeup. I’d taken a shower when I got back last night but hadn’t blow-dried
my hair. There wasn’t much I could do about it, so I scrubbed my fingers
through it, hoping for a tousled look.
Naked, I stepped into the Marquis’ Quarters.
“Leona.”
Master Clay was waiting for me. I jumped and looked at him
before I remembered that I shouldn’t and dropped my eyes.
He grabbed my upper arm and marched me across the room.
“M-master Clay.” The greeting cracked and I was suddenly so
nervous I felt sick.
“You were at the gala last night.” He pushed me up against
the wooden post. “Arms up.”
I lifted my hands over my head, aware of how my hands were
shaking. “Yes, Master.”
“You spoke with me.”
“I…I called you Clay, Master.”
“I told you that outside of this room I was Clay. Outside of
my house you are never to address me. What you did showed an utter lack of
judgment.” Master Clay put a hand on my back and forced me against the post,
then wrapped a strap over my wrists, pressing them against the wood.
“I’m sorry, Master Clay. I thought…” I turned my head, my
cheek against the smooth wood. He added a second strap around my waist.
“Clay and Master Clay are the names I use for BDSM. You
risked exposing a part of my life I keep private by using it.”
“I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
“Put one foot on either side of the post.”
I adjusted my feet, spreading them just enough so that I was
positioned the way he’d ordered. He added a third strap around my calves.
“Are you angry with me, Master?”
“I was angry, but now I’m disappointed.” Master Clay grabbed
my hair, pulling my head back until we were looking at each other. “Oh Leona,
someday you will be the kind of woman who could topple kingdoms—a modern-day
courtesan. Your submission will one day be the most elegant gift a master could
hope for. Right now you are young and foolish. You risked not only my privacy
but your own. The man I was speaking with is on the LACMA board of directors.
He didn’t hear you, but if he had you would have lost your internship.”
“I didn’t know. I was… I’m so sorry. Master, please.”
He released my hair. “I warned you that I do not take true
punishments lightly. Your behavior last night was beyond the pale. You will be
punished.”
I was scared. Truly scared of him and the situation I was
in. I jerked against the straps. “Master, please, no.”
“This is what you need, Leona.”
“Then yellow,” I blurted out the word. “Red.”
“Leona, the stoplight safe word system is for sessions. Not
for punishments.”
Horror filled me. That had been my way out. If I couldn’t
use a safeword then I was truly trapped.
“Master…it was a mistake. Please. Red.”
I heard him walk away, heard doors opening and closing.
“You will feel pain but not be permanently damaged. What I
do to you now will be something that perhaps in a few years after your pain
tolerance has developed you would see as foreplay. For now it will be painful,
and the experience of the punishment is both degrading and humiliating. You
will not forget this, and in future you will use better judgment.”
There was no warning save a whistling noise before the first
strike landed across my bare ass.
Shock insulated me, the thought “this can’t be happening”
masking the pain for a moment. When the second
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