inside her. How had she become so connected to the man in such a short time?
“You have questions,” Syb said behind her.
“More than you can imagine,” Olivia murmured.
To her shock, Syb’s cool fingers linked through hers where they were still bound behind her back. She pulled Olivia toward one of the doors behind the desk. “I can probably imagine. I was you once. A newbie, I mean. I used to be an assistant for a fashion designer—a not very well-known one either. Not long after I met him, my Master introduced me to this place. Now I am the designer, and I don’t put up with a bunch of crap from a power-hungry narcissist.”
“That seems odd to hear in this place,” Olivia said, looking around. The room they’d entered was full of clothing racks, all jammed full of plastic covered garments. They circled all four walls. A metal walkway ran the circumference of the area and housed another row of racks.
Syb laughed. “The Masters and Mistresses here aren’t power-hungry. They have all the power they want. My ex was a wannabe—yeah, I worked for my boyfriend. Bad combo. Now, stay right here,” she said, leaving Olivia in the middle of the huge room. She giggled as she headed for a computer station a few feet away. “Welcome to my lair.”
“It’s enormous. You did all these clothes?”
She nodded. “I have a lot of time on my hands. Master keeps me so worked up all the time then he spends long hours working.”
Olivia licked her bottom lip, overwhelmed by this world she’d plunged into. She’d never imagined such a sexual underground existed. Oh sure, she’d heard about them, but she’d assumed rumors were vastly exaggerated. Yet Colin had introduced her into a subculture she didn’t quite fathom.
“Do you ever call him anything but Master?” she asked.
Syb studied her, suddenly quite serious. “Not around here, and not without permission.”
“You’re afraid of him?”
“Are you afraid of Colin?” Syb asked, showing she knew his name. She looked away and clicked a fingernail on her screen. There was no keyboard, leading Olivia to believe it was completely touch activated. So this place was a forerunner in tech savvy, too.
She shook her head. “No. Not afraid at all.”
“But you only call him by his Dom name, correct? Unless you’re allowed otherwise?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Syb asked. “Why do you do as he says? Why do you allow him to put a collar on you and lead you by a chain?”
Olivia drew in a sharp breath at the harsh questions. Was this what Syb really thought?
“Submission isn’t about fear,” the woman continued. “Or at least, it shouldn’t be. It’s about your mutual satisfaction.”
She dug into a drawer beneath the computer screen then walked back to Olivia. Gently, she turned her. Olivia felt a key being slid into the lock of one of the cuffs. In a moment, she was free. Reflexively, she pulled her wrists in front of her and massaged them though they weren’t hurt. She hadn’t worn them for very long.
“This is a safe place, sweetness. There are hard and fast rules around here. The most important rules involve behavior toward submissives. No one is to attempt a scene with an attached sub other than their own. No one, sub or Dom, is allowed to enter a scene without permission. No Dom may exert control over a sub without direct permission from his or her Master. That means you don’t have to address them as Sir, Master, Mr. or anything like that unless your Master has instructed you to do so—or in my case, unless your job has instructed you to. Anyone who breaks these rules risks censure at minimum and permanent expulsion from the club at maximum.”
Syb circled her, a hand to her chin. Both handcuffs were looped around one wrist like a goth-like bracelet. “I’m Sybil, by the way,” she said, still studying Olivia. “Everyone calls me Syb or Sybbie.”
“I’m Olivia.”
“Nice to meet you. It’s good to see Colin with someone. What
“You have questions,” Syb said behind her.
“More than you can imagine,” Olivia murmured.
To her shock, Syb’s cool fingers linked through hers where they were still bound behind her back. She pulled Olivia toward one of the doors behind the desk. “I can probably imagine. I was you once. A newbie, I mean. I used to be an assistant for a fashion designer—a not very well-known one either. Not long after I met him, my Master introduced me to this place. Now I am the designer, and I don’t put up with a bunch of crap from a power-hungry narcissist.”
“That seems odd to hear in this place,” Olivia said, looking around. The room they’d entered was full of clothing racks, all jammed full of plastic covered garments. They circled all four walls. A metal walkway ran the circumference of the area and housed another row of racks.
Syb laughed. “The Masters and Mistresses here aren’t power-hungry. They have all the power they want. My ex was a wannabe—yeah, I worked for my boyfriend. Bad combo. Now, stay right here,” she said, leaving Olivia in the middle of the huge room. She giggled as she headed for a computer station a few feet away. “Welcome to my lair.”
“It’s enormous. You did all these clothes?”
She nodded. “I have a lot of time on my hands. Master keeps me so worked up all the time then he spends long hours working.”
Olivia licked her bottom lip, overwhelmed by this world she’d plunged into. She’d never imagined such a sexual underground existed. Oh sure, she’d heard about them, but she’d assumed rumors were vastly exaggerated. Yet Colin had introduced her into a subculture she didn’t quite fathom.
“Do you ever call him anything but Master?” she asked.
Syb studied her, suddenly quite serious. “Not around here, and not without permission.”
“You’re afraid of him?”
“Are you afraid of Colin?” Syb asked, showing she knew his name. She looked away and clicked a fingernail on her screen. There was no keyboard, leading Olivia to believe it was completely touch activated. So this place was a forerunner in tech savvy, too.
She shook her head. “No. Not afraid at all.”
“But you only call him by his Dom name, correct? Unless you’re allowed otherwise?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Syb asked. “Why do you do as he says? Why do you allow him to put a collar on you and lead you by a chain?”
Olivia drew in a sharp breath at the harsh questions. Was this what Syb really thought?
“Submission isn’t about fear,” the woman continued. “Or at least, it shouldn’t be. It’s about your mutual satisfaction.”
She dug into a drawer beneath the computer screen then walked back to Olivia. Gently, she turned her. Olivia felt a key being slid into the lock of one of the cuffs. In a moment, she was free. Reflexively, she pulled her wrists in front of her and massaged them though they weren’t hurt. She hadn’t worn them for very long.
“This is a safe place, sweetness. There are hard and fast rules around here. The most important rules involve behavior toward submissives. No one is to attempt a scene with an attached sub other than their own. No one, sub or Dom, is allowed to enter a scene without permission. No Dom may exert control over a sub without direct permission from his or her Master. That means you don’t have to address them as Sir, Master, Mr. or anything like that unless your Master has instructed you to do so—or in my case, unless your job has instructed you to. Anyone who breaks these rules risks censure at minimum and permanent expulsion from the club at maximum.”
Syb circled her, a hand to her chin. Both handcuffs were looped around one wrist like a goth-like bracelet. “I’m Sybil, by the way,” she said, still studying Olivia. “Everyone calls me Syb or Sybbie.”
“I’m Olivia.”
“Nice to meet you. It’s good to see Colin with someone. What
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