The Art of Submissive Survival - Book Two in The Perfect Submissive Trilogy by Kay Jaybee
Authors: Kay Jaybee
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Chapter One
Jess couldn’t disguise the wince as she sat down. The bruises she’d received the previous day were blooming across her flesh, and a matching flush of shame covered her face as she saw Lee hasten past her office door.
Switching her computer on, Jess daren’t lift her eyes from the screen, not wanting to accept the quiet need she had recognised in Lee’s expression. A need she had glimpsed gaping back at her from her reflection in the bathroom mirror that morning.
As Jess blindly stared at an email request for an accommodation booking, she nervously wondered where Mrs Peters was. There was a fascinating darkness surrounding her boss, something dangerous and new, and she feared, addictive. Jess had no doubt that she should get a million miles away from her; from the whole place. Yet here she was, back at her desk, her pulse hammering a little too fast, and her palms clammy, as if she was waiting for something to happen, which if she was honest with herself she was.
Forcing herself to concentrate on the monitor, Jess did her best to close her mind to the events that had dominated her brief period of employment at the Fables. She had almost succeeded in focusing on her work, when a sharp voice made her jump, ‘I would like you to place a call for me, Miss Sanders.’
Mrs Peters had an expression of mild amusement on her face as she observed the clerk’s red cheeks turn a deeper crimson. A frisson of anticipation ran through the manageress at the thought of what she had in store for the new girl over the coming weeks. Lessons that would ultimately help Miss Sanders fulfil her role as the new assistant on the fifth floor.
‘A call?’
‘To this gentleman.’ Laura passed Sam Wheeler’s business card over to Jess, and folded her arms impatiently as the clerk fumbled over the telephone keypad.
Holding the receiver to her ear, Jess waited for the call to be picked up, ‘Mr Wheeler?’ Jess paused while she listened for the required confirmation, ‘I have a Mrs Laura Peters for you, sir, one moment please.’
Jess passed the phone to Mrs Peters, who without pausing to exchange any sort of greeting, spoke into the receiver. ‘Lovely picture thank you.’ Hanging up before Sam had a chance to say anything at all, she handed the phone back to the clerk. Mrs Peters’ face gave nothing away as she left the room, leaving Jess physically shaking in her chair. She’d expected to be told to accompany her employer, to be instructed to observe or take part in some event on the fifth floor. Jess was shocked to realise that not only was she disappointed to have been left behind, but her body had already gone into arousal overdrive.
Taking a draft of water from the bottle on her desk, she took some calming breaths, trying to ignore her slick pussy and tight breasts, telling herself not to be so stupid. Yet, while she had been mentally preparing herself for almost anything, Jess hadn’t been prepared for nothing. The tiny element of concentration she’d had evaporated into thin air, as she realised with increasing frustration that she had acted exactly as Mrs Peters had intended.
Lee opened his eyes as commanded and stared directly at the floor below him. His arms and legs ached, but he said nothing. Complaining to Miss Sarah was always a waste of breath.
She stood in the dim candlelight of the dusty dungeon, freshly attired in black patent thigh-length boots, a lace-up black basque, and nothing else. Her long hair hung around her shoulders, and, as she dropped the whip she’d been using to punish Lee’s backside, she bent forward to kiss the worst of his bruises.
The Medieval-style wooden rack, against which the barman was tied, was already at half stretch, but Miss Sarah hadn’t finished with him yet. Lee bit back a whimper as his arms were pulled another half centimetre forward while, face down, his torso remained captured by a series of thick leather straps across his back.
‘You are getting
Jess couldn’t disguise the wince as she sat down. The bruises she’d received the previous day were blooming across her flesh, and a matching flush of shame covered her face as she saw Lee hasten past her office door.
Switching her computer on, Jess daren’t lift her eyes from the screen, not wanting to accept the quiet need she had recognised in Lee’s expression. A need she had glimpsed gaping back at her from her reflection in the bathroom mirror that morning.
As Jess blindly stared at an email request for an accommodation booking, she nervously wondered where Mrs Peters was. There was a fascinating darkness surrounding her boss, something dangerous and new, and she feared, addictive. Jess had no doubt that she should get a million miles away from her; from the whole place. Yet here she was, back at her desk, her pulse hammering a little too fast, and her palms clammy, as if she was waiting for something to happen, which if she was honest with herself she was.
Forcing herself to concentrate on the monitor, Jess did her best to close her mind to the events that had dominated her brief period of employment at the Fables. She had almost succeeded in focusing on her work, when a sharp voice made her jump, ‘I would like you to place a call for me, Miss Sanders.’
Mrs Peters had an expression of mild amusement on her face as she observed the clerk’s red cheeks turn a deeper crimson. A frisson of anticipation ran through the manageress at the thought of what she had in store for the new girl over the coming weeks. Lessons that would ultimately help Miss Sanders fulfil her role as the new assistant on the fifth floor.
‘A call?’
‘To this gentleman.’ Laura passed Sam Wheeler’s business card over to Jess, and folded her arms impatiently as the clerk fumbled over the telephone keypad.
Holding the receiver to her ear, Jess waited for the call to be picked up, ‘Mr Wheeler?’ Jess paused while she listened for the required confirmation, ‘I have a Mrs Laura Peters for you, sir, one moment please.’
Jess passed the phone to Mrs Peters, who without pausing to exchange any sort of greeting, spoke into the receiver. ‘Lovely picture thank you.’ Hanging up before Sam had a chance to say anything at all, she handed the phone back to the clerk. Mrs Peters’ face gave nothing away as she left the room, leaving Jess physically shaking in her chair. She’d expected to be told to accompany her employer, to be instructed to observe or take part in some event on the fifth floor. Jess was shocked to realise that not only was she disappointed to have been left behind, but her body had already gone into arousal overdrive.
Taking a draft of water from the bottle on her desk, she took some calming breaths, trying to ignore her slick pussy and tight breasts, telling herself not to be so stupid. Yet, while she had been mentally preparing herself for almost anything, Jess hadn’t been prepared for nothing. The tiny element of concentration she’d had evaporated into thin air, as she realised with increasing frustration that she had acted exactly as Mrs Peters had intended.
Lee opened his eyes as commanded and stared directly at the floor below him. His arms and legs ached, but he said nothing. Complaining to Miss Sarah was always a waste of breath.
She stood in the dim candlelight of the dusty dungeon, freshly attired in black patent thigh-length boots, a lace-up black basque, and nothing else. Her long hair hung around her shoulders, and, as she dropped the whip she’d been using to punish Lee’s backside, she bent forward to kiss the worst of his bruises.
The Medieval-style wooden rack, against which the barman was tied, was already at half stretch, but Miss Sarah hadn’t finished with him yet. Lee bit back a whimper as his arms were pulled another half centimetre forward while, face down, his torso remained captured by a series of thick leather straps across his back.
‘You are getting
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