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Authors: Dakota Trace

BOOK: Conquering Jude
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“What’s your purpose tonight, slave?” The unemotional tone of her voice along with the generic ‘slave’ had his heart beating hard with panic.

“I…” he tried to remember the words he was supposed to use to ask for forgiveness. Their formalness on paper had seemed absurd and if Jackson would’ve seen the paper he’d have given Jude a hard time. “I need…ah…”
Dammit, not I…slave…it’s slave.
He gave a nervous cough. “…this slave is presenting himself for…ah hell.” Frustrated he finally broke protocol and looked up at her. He devoured her with his eyes. The bruising which had been apparent last week was fading. He could see the light discolorations under her artful application of make-up. The dark circles under her eyes bothered him almost as much as the detachment he found in their dark grey depths. It was as if she were contemplating what to have for dinner rather than the fact he was kneeling before her clad only in his briefs.

“Dammit, just punish me and get it over with.” Even to his own ears he heard the lack of command. Instead it felt as if he were pleading for her to punish him. He swallowed when her hand fell to the handle of the whip resting at her hip. He shifted his weight as unease flared. He tried to remember why he’d agreed to let her punish him.
Oh, yeah, it’s either this or she’ll never let me darken her doorstep again and there goes my chance of getting in her bed.

When she finally spoke, his body tightened with pleasure. Her raspy intonation was like pure crushed velvet rubbing against his skin. “Topping from the bottom is not allowed, slave. I am in charge here. I make the demands, not you.” She lifted the whip from her hip to trail its handle over his shoulder. “I should send you away for trying to take control. Is that what you want?” She gave him a brittle smile.

He shook his head, the same panic racing through him he’d felt almost two weeks ago. The fateful night he’d walked in on something, totally misunderstood the situation, lost his cool and blown it with her. “No, Mistress.”

She studied him for a moment. “Then why did you come, Jude? From your words alone you’ve told me you’re not submissive, so why are you here – kneeling before me?”

He grunted and shrugged his massive shoulders. “Damned if I know, Olivia.”

Pain flared from his shoulder blade. She’d used the handle of her whip to tap him A sharp breath escaped him when heat replaced the sting. He could feel his cock leaking against the fabric of his underwear, confusing him all the more.

“That’s not an answer.” Her voice was still firm but there seemed to be a tone of understanding in it.

“Sorry, Mistress. I don’t know why I’m here, other than I’m attracted to you. I just know I needed to see you again. Would you be willing to go out on a date with me and leave all of this…” He gestured with his head to their surroundings. “…for a night of mutual enjoyment?” Even as he asked he knew she wouldn’t. She was for dark clubs featuring intense pain and pleasure, not romantic candlelight with soft caresses. He’d known after speaking with several others at the club, Olivia would never pursue a relationship outside the club. It was more than her business - it was her soul. So she had casual relationships with some of the subs who were members, but she’d never dated a vanilla man.
Probably correctly assuming the man would never understand her need to dominate.

A bitter laugh floated down. “I don’t date.
Ever.

“Then there’s your answer, Mistress. I’m here because I knew you wouldn’t see me outside the club.”

“And why is that so important to you, Jude? I should be nothing more than another client. All along, you’ve denied your submissive nature despite the way I’ve seen you watch the Doms with their subs. That alone should’ve kept you from darkening my doorstep.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m willing to play this game with you if it allows me to spend time in your company.”

“So you’re going to let me punish you simply so you can spend time with me in hopes of getting into my bed? Even knowing I don’t date vanilla men? Are you suicidal?” He glanced up at her, his eyes tracing over the familiar corset she wore paired with leggings. He’d begun to think of it as her uniform.

“Not that I’m aware of, Mistress.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Perhaps I’m not as
vanilla
as I thought.”

“And now you’re going to go through with this punishment, one you’ve claimed you don’t entirely understand?”

He nodded. “I broke the rules and deserve to be punished.” He gave her a mocking smile. “It’s not as if you can do worse than my Chief Warrant Officer in the Rangers.”

She stiffened. “Fine.” She moved around him. “Follow me.”

Scrambling off his knees, Jude hurried after her. His normally calm breathing was coming faster as she entered through a door further down the hall. There was no hesitation as he entered the room. Although his eyes immediately found the St. Andrew’s cross.
Is she going to tie me to that?
Memories of seeing her standing in front of the cross and whipping Bryan Sterling, the CEO of Sterling Foods filled him.

He hadn’t understood at the time. Bryan was a true submissive and had been sent by his Master, who had just woken up from a coma, to be punished. Nor had he understood that the reason Rai had done it was the same reason that Bryan had obeyed. Their love for one another had been the catalyst. Letting Bryan’s guilt about the accident go unattended would’ve had it festering like an untreated wound in the jungle. It would’ve killed their relationship.

As if knowing what he was thinking, she spoke. “You’re not in need, nor are you ready for the cross yet. I only bind my slaves to the cross as a treat which is worked up to by my slaves. Only those who have proved themselves to be quite…” she paused giving him a look of contempt. “…obedient find themselves attached to my cross.”

He nodded curtly, knowing she wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t heard before. His Chief Warrant Officer had repeated it often.
“Staff Sergeant Larson, why can’t you just follow orders for once? Why do you have to constantly buck the system?”

She motioned him towards the flat bench which resembled a sawhorse. When he was within touching distance, she stopped him. “This is your last chance to leave, pet. Either you give yourself over to me for punishment now or walk away, but if you leave, remember, you’ll not be allowed back inside of Olivia’s. I cannot have people disregarding the rules.”

His heart leapt a bit when he finally heard her utter the familiar endearment. He couldn’t believe how relieved he was to hear it.
It means I still have a chance to win her over.

“I’m not walking away, Mistress.”

She nodded before drawing herself up to her diminutive height. “Over the bench, face down.”

Obeying, he laid down on his stomach after rearranging his half-hard cock. He jerked a bit when his skin came into contact with the cool leather. Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the sound of her moving around him. First one arm was restrained by the leather cuffs hanging off the side of the bench before she repeated it with his other arm.

She straightened up next to him. “Do I need to restrain your legs?” Her voice was soft but firm. “Or will you behave?”
“I won’t kick, Mistress.” He licked his lips.
“Good. Now do you remember your safe word from last time?”

He thought he’d spurt right then and there at the memory of her soft hands stroking over his bare skin. She hadn’t cared about the scars covering his body. When he’d lost his bet with her, he’d expected this.
Punishment
. Instead she’d given him pleasure along with stark commands. She’d taken control of his pleasure and in turn driven him so crazy, that as soon as he’d left the club, he’d gone to his car and jacked off – a first for him. Not even in his fumbling teen days had he ever let a woman get him so hot he hadn’t been able to control his body. Nor had he allowed a woman to tease him in such a way without delivering the obvious conclusion. “Yes, Mistress. Hershey’s.”

“Good. Now, tell me why you’re being punished.”
He gritted his teeth before answering. “I interrupted a scene between Mistress and another sub.”
“That’s right. Why did you do that?”

“I thought the slave was being hurt. He said he was hurting and I assumed he was talking about physical pain.” Jude pressed his head down on the leather padding of the bench.

“And now?”

“After talking with Master Gabriel, I realized his pain was emotional, not physical as I had assumed. I hadn’t thought he might be exchanging one pain for another.” Even as he repeated the words the other man had given him, Jude wasn’t sure if he believed it.
How can one pain replace another? At best it’s just a distraction.

“So you’re here to atone for interrupting a scene between a consenting slave and the Domme of his choice?”

He gave a curt nod before remembering he was supposed to actually answer. “Yes, Mistress.”

“By signing the release form when we first met, I could’ve demanded my right to dole out punishment right then and there for your infraction, slave. If I hadn’t been more concerned about Bryan’s state of mind, I more than likely would’ve.” Her voice floated further away and he heard the sounds of a cupboard or drawer being opened. From his position he couldn’t see exactly what she was doing.

“There’s a reason I have those rules in place, Jude. They’re not only safeguards for my patrons, but also for my club as a whole. I don’t take them lightly and I will
not
allow you to. Whether you finally decide to accept your submissive nature or not, they
do
apply to you when you’re on the premises.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He kept his head down, just wishing she’d punish him. The longer he lay restrained the more vulnerable he felt. He was starting to doubt the wisdom of his choice.

Her resigned exhale had him tensing. “For your infraction, you’ll receive ten swats with the paddle.”

An unconscious sigh of relief passed his lips. So she wasn’t going to use her wicked looking whip on his hide today. Behind him there were a few more rustling sounds.

“Count off, slave.” Her command hit his ears just before the sting of a wooden paddle came down on his left ass cheek. He’d observed scenes enough to know the protocol.

“One, Mistress.” He exhaled the words through the resulting sting. The next sting didn’t take him by surprise but the answering stir in his cock did.
God what a perverted bastard I am. This is punishment!”

“Two, Mistress.” He clenched his fists against the restraints holding him and pressed his forehead to the leather as his cock hardened in a rush. The next two smacks fell in quickly, one to each side of his ass. Even through the pain of the resulting blows and his building desire, he was aware she never came close to the scaring on his right hip.

“If you don’t count, slave, they don’t count.” Her reprisal had him flinching and moaning. He had to remember, not get lost in the pain and pleasure the punishment was giving him.

“Yes, Mistress.” His chest heaved against the leather as each stroke of the paddle stroked not only the fire in his ass higher but also the one in his groin. As the next stroke fell, he automatically counted off but also rubbed his hips, his cock against the bench - hard.

“You wouldn’t be trying to get off would you, slave?” Her voice was amused but her hand was not when she grabbed him by his hair to lift his head. His eyes met her intensely dark eyes, and the world as he knew it imploded. He found what he needed in her eyes, and it scared the living hell out of him even as it titillated his senses.

“No, Mistress!” His gasp was loud as she brought the paddle down once more while still holding his hair. Her added roughness sent his body into overdrive and he forgot to count off. A low tortured moan filled the room as he flooded his briefs with hot, sticky seed. His entire body stiffened as the heat from his abused ass was forgotten and sharp pleasure took over. He cursed and panted as his orgasm finally receded.

But even as the unexpected pleasure ebbed away, horror replaced it.
No fucking way! I didn’t just come because she paddled my ass! I’m not that fucked up! Not that desperate!
He started to struggle against the cuffs restraining his wrists. In desperation, he tried to use his legs to lift the bench only to realize it was bolted to the floor. Growls of fear and frustration escaped him. “Let me go!”

Through it all, Olivia stayed with him, her voice soothing but he didn’t comprehend her words. His need for freedom, to run from what just had happened was now greater than his goal of seducing Olivia.
I have to get out of here!
I let a known Domme tie me up and spank me until I came!
It’s not normal, I’m a freak now.
Everything was careening wildly out of control. “Hershey’s, Hershey’s, dammit!” He continued to struggle against his bonds. His voice was now a plea, but he didn’t care. “You have to let me go…it’s in the rules.”

“Shh, yes, it is.” She placed a firm hand at the back of his neck between his shoulder blades. “The punishment is over - but until you calm down, I’m not releasing you.”

He cursed at her and struggled against not only the situation but his response to it. “Fucking bitch…let me go!” He jerked hard on the restraints, his legs lashing out trying to strike her. He wasn’t even aware of when the skin on his wrists broke open and began to bleed, or when Olivia in desperation used her insubstantial weight to press him down.

* * * *

Straddling his hips, Olivia covered the thrashing sub, glad she’d bound him tightly. By using leverage and weight she could keep him from hurting himself. Logically she knew at this point all she could do was wait for him to calm down. Eventually he’d wear himself down, then she could clean up his wrists and send him on his way.
It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve ever had a sub ‘safe word’ on me. He’s got such potential as a submissive. I just wish he wasn’t in such denial
.

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