Learning to Live with Her Master [Prometheus in Chains 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) (9 page)

“I don’t like it, but we seem to have no choice. We’ve used them in the past, and all was well?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir. We have used them on a couple of occasions, and I kept the staff they supplied in the kitchens away from the main club room. I will do the same this time. Perhaps it is time to investigate the possibility of having backup staff on retainers for such emergencies?”

“Maybe, but even better would be if we could persuade some of the Doms to loan us their subs in such emergencies. I’ll bring it up at the next meeting. There must be some subs used to catering or waiting on tables.”

They left it at that, and in spite of his unease, Prometheus got on with the last-minute preparations. He had a well-trained and well-paid staff who knew their jobs and usually needed no input from him. He trusted them to do what they were paid to do. However, as usual when he was uneasy, he went on a walkabout in the club. Now he left his office and went out to the car park and looked about. Prometheus in Chains was a mansion in its own grounds, surrounded by a high stone wall. That was capped now with razor wire, and the only entrance was through the wrought-iron gates which were closed at this hour.

All looked quiet enough, and he knew that Master Eric’s staff would be manning the CCTV screens in his hideaway.

He just could
not
put his finger on the reason, but he was far from his usual calm self, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He decided he’d better get on with the tour of the club, which usually calmed him down. He opened one half of the double entrance doors and went inside. He enjoyed this club. It was his creation, and he was proud of it. He nodded to the receptionist, entered the club’s main room via the double doors, and crossed to the staircase up to the next floor to run a check on the rooms. He went back to the ground floor, looked in on the kitchens where his staff were hard at work, where the two newcomers should be preparing the food for later. Only one of them was in evidence as the other was in the bathroom, as the catering manager informed him.

He went down to the basement and checked Master Torquil’s dungeon. It seemed that all was perfectly peaceful and matters were well in train for the celebration. He must have been worrying about nothing. Maybe just pre-party nerves.

By nine all the Doms and their subs had arrived. Jane liked the black-and-white colour theme. The Doms were wearing their leathers plus tight-fitting T-shirts in black or white, adorned with the club logo. The female subs had decided upon bustiers which didn’t conceal their nipples but pushed their breasts up in offering to their Masters. The bustiers were tightly laced and in black, trimmed with white lace, or white with black lace. No knickers were to be worn, and short, pleated skirts, to match or contrast with the bustiers, completed their outfits. Master Angus brought out his nipple clamps adorned with little bells, and each Dom enjoyed suckling a pair of plump breasts as he prepared them for the clamps.

Prometheus thanked them all for their support over the five years the club had been open. They chatted and laughed as they loaded their plates. Some sent subs to fetch food, and some took subs with them. Master brought one heaped plate, for himself and Jane to share. Soon all were settled in the club’s main room eating and drinking and talking about the last five years, and the coming wedding, and who would be the next to fall. Some of them went back for a second helping of the savouries before starting on the tarts, pies, and trifles and fresh strawberries and cream set out for dessert.

The entertainment was all that had been promised, and when Master Eric stood and collared Emma with the rose-gold collar like her own, there were tears of joy in Jane’s eyes. She was even more moved when Torquil, looking at her and Angus, recited Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 116.”

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds.”

As he continued with the sonnet, Jane looked at her Master, saw the love in his eyes, and melted into his arms for a long, slow kiss.

She blushed at the whistles and cat calls from their friends, but the expression in her Master’s eyes promised delight to come.

She saw Jenny run out of the main room with tears in her eyes. Emma followed her.

Jane was a bit rumpled, so she went into the locker room and saw Emma in front of her and said, “I’ll be with you in a minute, Emma. I need to freshen up.”

Emma followed Jenny through the other door into the toilets, but almost immediately, Jenny came hurriedly back into the locker room, alone, almost knocking Jane over in her haste.

“There’s a woman in there with a knife, she’s threatening Emma. I’ll go and get help!” she said, running to the club’s main room for help. Jane walked through the door and looked at the blonde, dressed in a maid’s uniform, holding a knife to Emma’s throat.

“Who are you? What do you want? Why are you threatening her?” she asked.

Jane was terrified for Emma, but she managed to keep calm. She had to control herself, and speak quietly so as not to alarm the blonde. Help was on its way. She needed to keep in control. Emma’s safety depended on her.

“Don’t you recognise me?” the blonde asked.

Jane looked closely. The voice was familiar, but the little round face, pretty plump cheeks, and above all the generous breasts and hips were not like
her
at all. “Is it…jessica?”

“Yes, it is, and, bitch,
you
are the reason I am unrecognisable.”

“Why?” Jane asked in puzzlement.

“Because you stole Master Angus from me and got me sent away to Wales with that fiend, Master Rhys. He made me his slave.”

“You accepted that, and you chose to go so as not to be prosecuted.”

“I didn’t bargain for being stuffed like a foie gras goose and made
fat
!” she screeched.

“You aren’t fat!” Jane stated.

“Not compared to you I’m not, but I’m fatter than I want to be. Nobody loves me when I’m fat. That fiend, Master Rhys, doesn’t care about me. He
says
I am his slave, but he doesn’t fuck me! He has another slave, jeremy, and fucks him, and I have to listen to them enjoying each other every bloody night and get nothing at all. All he lets me have is a fucking vibrator when I am in bed, and it’s no use. They took me to the hospital to have tests,
they said, and then I’m sure they were going to make me eat more and become even fatter, and they still wouldn’t lay a finger on me. They just wanted to torture me, letting me listen to their loving every night.” She wailed.

Nevertheless Jane noticed she didn’t loosen her hold on Emma or the knife. Jane hadn’t known about Master Rhys’s preferences and thought they had made a mistake sending jessica with him. As for jessica, it was all about who cared and loved
her,
and if he preferred his boy slave, it was never going to work. How were they going to get out of this? Where was Master? And would jessica listen to him, or would his being there make it worse? she wondered. She had to try something and fast before Emma got hurt more. Blood was trickling from her neck where the knife was pressed into her. It trickled through the lovely collar and stained her beautiful white bustier. Master Eric was going to kill someone for hurting her, but he’d have to wait his turn. If jessica harmed Emma, Jane would kill her with her own bare hands, and as she thought that, her fingers curled into talons.

“She’s not the one you want. Let her go and I’ll take her place,” Jane offered.

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?” jessica asked.

“I don’t want you to hurt her, so take me instead.”

“Well I might just mark her a little as that would certainly hurt you,” jessica said.

“Please don’t.” Jane hated to beg, but if it meant Emma wasn’t hurt, she would do anything. “I’ll do anything you ask. Just don’t hurt her. Please don’t hurt her.”

jessica crowed in delight. Jane saw she thought she’d found the ideal way to get at Jane and she was going to twist the knife in the wound, literally and figuratively. Before jessica could do anything, Master Eric slammed the door to the disabled cubicle back into her, and she slackened her hold on Emma, who brought her heel down with all the force she could muster on her foot. jessica dropped the knife to clutch at her foot. Emma pushed her over, and jessica hit her head on the toilet bowl and slid down in a heap, unconscious on the floor. Master Eric seized Emma in his arms and hugged her tightly.

“Are you all right? Has she hurt you? You’re bleeding. I’ll kill the bitch!” Emma assured him it was just a scratch and he took her over to the washbasin to help clean off the blood. Two dungeon monitors came and lifted jessica up. They carried her between them to Prometheus’s office, there to await the police.

Master Angus came in and took Jane in his arms, cuddled and petted her because she was shaking. He led her out of the locker room into the main room. He sat her on his lap, wrapped a blanket round her, and sent a sub for some hot, sweet tea. Jane protested that the sweet tea was horrible and she hated it until Master Angus promised retribution if she didn’t drink it all and
now
! When he used that tone, she knew he’d reached the end of his patience, so she submitted and drank all of it, making faces as she did. She hated sugar in her tea. When she’d finished, she had her reward as he kissed her long and deeply, and she snuggled close in his arms under the blanket, breathing deeply of his scent.

Prometheus had called the police. When they arrived they promptly took jessica in charge, called an ambulance, and dispatched her to the hospital in the care of a large policeman and a policewoman.

“She won’t be left alone and should trouble you no more now,” the sergeant said. “I shall need statements from all of you. Is there somewhere we can get the preliminary ones done now? Tomorrow you can all come down to the police station and read them through and sign them.”

“Come to my office, and I will show you some interesting evidence,” Prometheus promised. He took the sergeant to his office and unlocked the safe, where he had kept the CCTV discs and the signed and witnessed confession jessica had given them before she went to Wales. He explained that jessica had given it to them, in order that they would not press charges. She had stolen Emma’s identity and used her credit card fraudulently. Jane and Emma told their stories, which were written down by a young policewoman. jessica wasn’t going to escape again. Master Rhys gave them his account of her time in Wales with him and her subsequent flight.

“She sounds unhinged,” the sergeant commented, and Master Prometheus said, “Not another one! We had enough with Gordon!”

The police left, and they all went back into the club’s main room. Nobody wanted to resume the party, but they all did want a cup of something hot, so the kitchen staff produced more coffee and tea, and they sat around talking.

* * * *

Master Angus felt Jane wriggle and squirm in her agitation on his lap, and he quietly asked her what was wrong.

“jessica wasn’t happy in Wales. Master Rhys has a male slave and neither of them fucked jessica, simply let her overhear their lovemaking. You know how she feels about her weight, she’s convinced they were trying to fatten her up and were just making fun of her.” He listened patiently as she whispered all she had learned from jessica in his ear and told him of her fears about raising the subject here.

“I don’t want to say anything that will bring punishment down on me because I am criticising a Dom,” she confided, and he smiled his understanding.
He
did not want to spank her, and no other Dom was going to lay so much as a finger on her. She seemed to be learning and accepting the protocols now. He was pleased to see it. It hadn’t been easy for her. When she was working she’d had a responsible job, in charge of other teachers and her pupils. It had been a challenge for her to submit to the rules of subs being silent and obeying without question. He decided to speak for her.

“Master Rhys, can you explain the situation jessica was in with you in Wales?”

Master Rhys looked a little startled at being asked but complied.

“jessica was my slave. I was her Master. I put in place protocols for her to follow. We discussed them, but mine was the final decision as it was my responsibility. She was starving herself, and a lot of her bodily functions were impaired. She saw a doctor who recommended a diet and a certain number of calories every day, so she’d gain a little weight but not too much. She was and still is obsessed with the idea that she’s fat when she’s no such thing. If she gained a little weight and ate more, it would mean she would be menstruating again, but it would be erratic to start with. She had a problem with latex, so I could not use condoms, and they would not give her the contraceptive pill until she was a certain weight and her periods were back regularly. I explained all this to her and that there would be no sex until she was ready for it and healthy again. She seemed to accept it and liked the rituals and routines we practise in my home. I have another slave, jeremy. We have been together for five years and are happy but wanted a triad, and jessica seemed to fit our needs, and we thought we pleased her. She began to look better. She filled out in a pleasing manner, but her periods were still erratic so we couldn’t have sex with her and took her to the hospital for more tests, and she escaped and came here. The rest you know.”