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de Lune, Clair - Fiona's Two Masters [Prometheus in Chains 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Clair de Lune
Authors: Clair de Lune
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FIONA’S TWO MASTERS
Prometheus in Chains 3
CLAIR DE LUNE
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
I am safe, Fiona thought. At least I will be for the next couple of hours. She followed Emma into the entrance foyer of Prometheus in Chains, and Emma signed her in as her guest. She and Emma had been friends for a few years. They had met at art college then become roommates in their second and third years. Emma had opted for designing clothes and Fiona for designing websites, and their ways had parted after college. Emma was one of the few people Fiona had managed to keep in touch with. She was a stunning girl, five eight and very curvy. She had large gray eyes and wavy, shoulder-length, blonde hair. She had a pleasant way about her, too.
Fiona looked around and was impressed by the quiet, luxurious elegance of the club. Prometheus in Chains was a mansion, standing in its own grounds, on the outskirts of Sheffield. It was surrounded by a high stone wall, and the only entrance was through the wrought-iron gates which led to a car park. Built in the nineteenth century, the facade was of mellow old Portland stone, and the house stood three stories high. In the centre of the façade, three stone steps led up to an imposing entrance, with stone columns flanking the double oak doors studded with black nails. To either side of the doors were floor-to-ceiling bay windows on the ground floor and elegant Georgian windows in the next floor. The attics were on the third floor. They were previously s ervants’ quarters and had skylights. They had been converted to a private flat where Prometheus, the owner, lived.
The cool marble floor of the foyer with its burgundy velvet curtains and dark oak panels spoke of quiet opulence. Stairs in the main club room led to five large private bedrooms with en-suite bathrooms. They were all decorated in different styles, with luxurious furnishings in all but the medical and BDSM-standard playrooms. All were usually available to members with prior reservation but not always.
She had been in many clubs but never one as plush as this, and she wondered how Emma managed the fees. After all, Emma was only in her first job, even if it was as a designer for Curvy Woman, a prestigious lingerie company. She resolved to ask her how to become a member then remembered she would not be there long enough. She did not dare remain in one place for long, and this visit to Emma was a dangerous indulgence on her part.
She had so longed to see her friend, and she had not been able to resist the temptation to contact Emma as she was passing so close to Sheffield. Emma had been delighted to hear from her beautiful, redheaded friend. The years they had been apart, and all Fiona’s troubles had receded when Emma persuaded her to call in for a few days to visit and catch up. Fiona had been alone and isolated for so long, so she took a chance, and here she was.
They left their belongings in the locker room and then went into the main room. Once she went through the door, the familiar sounds of a BDSM club met her ears. She was impressed with the soundproofing, as the elegant foyer was quiet and peaceful. The slap of whips and crops on flesh, the moans and cries of subs, and the occasional scream as some lucky sub was brought to climax by his or her Dom made her close her eyes and breathe deeply. She had missed all this and the mixed smells of sweat and sex and spices. Spices that weren’t usual. What was it? Cinnamon and maybe lavender. Maybe the candles were perfumed. She felt safe in this environment. Emma had assured her that she had nothing to worry about.
The music was the usual heavy metal. It was Skinny Puppy, at the moment, and the beat seemed to reverberate in her bones. She preferred Black Sabbath and had always had a passion for Ozzy. Their album Paranoid was one of her favourites.
They went over to a group of people in various stages of undress, and most of what was worn left nothing to the imagination. They
Prometheus in Chains 3
CLAIR DE LUNE
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
I am safe, Fiona thought. At least I will be for the next couple of hours. She followed Emma into the entrance foyer of Prometheus in Chains, and Emma signed her in as her guest. She and Emma had been friends for a few years. They had met at art college then become roommates in their second and third years. Emma had opted for designing clothes and Fiona for designing websites, and their ways had parted after college. Emma was one of the few people Fiona had managed to keep in touch with. She was a stunning girl, five eight and very curvy. She had large gray eyes and wavy, shoulder-length, blonde hair. She had a pleasant way about her, too.
Fiona looked around and was impressed by the quiet, luxurious elegance of the club. Prometheus in Chains was a mansion, standing in its own grounds, on the outskirts of Sheffield. It was surrounded by a high stone wall, and the only entrance was through the wrought-iron gates which led to a car park. Built in the nineteenth century, the facade was of mellow old Portland stone, and the house stood three stories high. In the centre of the façade, three stone steps led up to an imposing entrance, with stone columns flanking the double oak doors studded with black nails. To either side of the doors were floor-to-ceiling bay windows on the ground floor and elegant Georgian windows in the next floor. The attics were on the third floor. They were previously s ervants’ quarters and had skylights. They had been converted to a private flat where Prometheus, the owner, lived.
The cool marble floor of the foyer with its burgundy velvet curtains and dark oak panels spoke of quiet opulence. Stairs in the main club room led to five large private bedrooms with en-suite bathrooms. They were all decorated in different styles, with luxurious furnishings in all but the medical and BDSM-standard playrooms. All were usually available to members with prior reservation but not always.
She had been in many clubs but never one as plush as this, and she wondered how Emma managed the fees. After all, Emma was only in her first job, even if it was as a designer for Curvy Woman, a prestigious lingerie company. She resolved to ask her how to become a member then remembered she would not be there long enough. She did not dare remain in one place for long, and this visit to Emma was a dangerous indulgence on her part.
She had so longed to see her friend, and she had not been able to resist the temptation to contact Emma as she was passing so close to Sheffield. Emma had been delighted to hear from her beautiful, redheaded friend. The years they had been apart, and all Fiona’s troubles had receded when Emma persuaded her to call in for a few days to visit and catch up. Fiona had been alone and isolated for so long, so she took a chance, and here she was.
They left their belongings in the locker room and then went into the main room. Once she went through the door, the familiar sounds of a BDSM club met her ears. She was impressed with the soundproofing, as the elegant foyer was quiet and peaceful. The slap of whips and crops on flesh, the moans and cries of subs, and the occasional scream as some lucky sub was brought to climax by his or her Dom made her close her eyes and breathe deeply. She had missed all this and the mixed smells of sweat and sex and spices. Spices that weren’t usual. What was it? Cinnamon and maybe lavender. Maybe the candles were perfumed. She felt safe in this environment. Emma had assured her that she had nothing to worry about.
The music was the usual heavy metal. It was Skinny Puppy, at the moment, and the beat seemed to reverberate in her bones. She preferred Black Sabbath and had always had a passion for Ozzy. Their album Paranoid was one of her favourites.
They went over to a group of people in various stages of undress, and most of what was worn left nothing to the imagination. They
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