Dungeon Love [The Dom's Dungeon 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  * * * *

  Why is he so cold and abrupt, rude even, around me? I know he’s a considerate and caring person. I’ve seen him working with other people. So why isn’t he like that to me? He’s the only man I want to be my Dom. I know he and he alone could free me from stress and tension. I know I can trust him to punish me to perfection. So why, why, why, doesn’t he even look at me and smile?

  Other people might think working reception was a cushy job, but Juliana actually had quite a lot of responsibility. Not just as the “face” of The Dom’s Dungeon, the first person newcomers met, but also in ensuring people’s first visit there for a party or a meal encouraged them to come back again another time. No matter how rude, condescending or ignorant a customer was, Juliana trained herself always to be polite, helpful, and non-condemnatory. But damn it was hard to be nice some days.

  Once again Dom Beckett had marched straight past the reception counter and down the stairs. Juliana knew he always took the stairs instead of the elevator. But other people did that, too. Especially the werewolf shape-shifters. They seemed to need the exercise. When she wasn’t sure if a person was werewolf or human, Juliana often based her assessment on whether they walked or rode up and down from the parking lot. She thought it was a reasonably accurate and very simple test. She also thought Dom Beckett Parker was a werewolf.

  But—and this was the key difference with Dom Beckett—almost all of them looked across to her desk and smiled or waved or otherwise acknowledged her as they passed by. Dom Becket rigidly ignored her. And rigid was the key here. His body was often stiff instead of relaxed.

  Juliana giggled. Maybe he needed a Dom of his own to help him relax. To punish him until he gave up all his tension and pain. Was that the cure he needed?

  A Dom. Or a Domme?

  Juliana was a sub. One hundred percent. There was no hesitation in her mind about that. But what if she pretended to be a Domme? She’d watched hundreds of floor shows here at The Dom’s Dungeon. She’d watched displays of whipping and even been taught the correct way to hold a whip and to lay the strokes.

  Sometimes the dungeon ran parties or workshops where paddling, whipping, and bondage skills were taught. Some of them were just a game, but the serious ones interested her, and she had some hands-on experience at the skills of the Domme. Just for fun. Almost as a hobby. She was a sub, but a sub needed to be able to trust her Dom, and the easiest way to trust him was to be able to tell if he was punishing her correctly. Not that any man had ever punished her. She was a sub in spirit but not in practice. Yet. She was saving herself for Dom Beckett. But what if she pretended to be a Domme for him? Would that arouse his interest? Would that break through the barriers holding him back from taking an interest in her?

  Would Simon and Leif, the co-owners of the Dom’s Dungeon, permit her to have a floor show where she and Dom Beckett could be on stage together? How would that work? For the men to agree to it, she’d need to have a serious plan. A program the audience would enjoy. Now that was something to think about. Could she paddle him and then have him whip her? Would that work? Juliana could see herself in thigh-high black boots and fishnet stockings standing over him with a whip. But would he allow it? It’d be just a floor show, but if she did it right…

  I need to think this through carefully and get Leif and Simon’s agreement before I approach Dom Beckett. I believe I can do this, though. If I plan it, I can ensure I only have to do things I know I can do properly. I’d also have to maintain control. No orgasming the minute he touches me!

  All the rest of the day, as Juliana dealt with customers, accounts, bookings, and questions, her mind was whirring away in the background with how she could plan a scene for the floor show. A scene that would make Dom Beckett look at her properly for the first time ever. And hopefully it would intrigue him and make him want to know the real her. Intrigue she could do. A scene in the Stage Lounge she could do. Win over Beckett she wasn’t so sure of. But she was willing to give it her very best attempt.

  Chapter Two

  “Hey, Beckett, I’ve been given a proposal for a stage show that sounds good.”

  Simon was a wolf, the same as Beckett, and Beckett could hear him pacing the room as he spoke on the phone. Simon was always moving. He hated being still. His wolf demanded constant action.

  “Sure, Simon. What kind of a scene is it? Is it already choreographed, or do I need to do that?”

  “You and the other person would work out the finer details later, but the basic plan is laid out. It’s a sort of man versus woman scene. You and a Domme demonstrate some actions, play it up for the crowd, but then, at the end, you cooperate.”

  “Yes. That sounds fine. We’d need to practice it beforehand, but I have no problems with that. Who’s the Domme?”

  “Juliana.”

  “What? The little redhead? She’s a Domme?”

  “Apparently. Leif vouched for her.”

  Leif wouldn’t agree to anything that would give The Dom’s Dungeon a bad name. Beckett shook his head in surprise but said, “Okay then. When do you want it performed? We need to get together and run through it step by step.”

  “How does next week sound? We’re scheduling into Thursday and Friday now. You could do the early show Thursday and the late show Friday if that works for you.”

  “Yes, that sounds all right. What shift is Juliana on tomorrow? I’ll make sure to talk to her then.”

  “She’s on days this week and next week, which means she’s available to do the stage shows in the evenings next week.”

  “Okay, thank you, Simon.”

  Beckett put his cell phone down and slumped into an armchair in his still only partially roofed house. At least that should be finished by tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. Juliana a Domme? That was one thing he’d never suspected. Was that why she sent his hormones into overdrive? Because he wanted her as his sub and she was a Domme? Could it be that his hormones had recognized that as a fact, even as his brain hadn’t? Maybe that was why he was so conflicted about her. Why he always seemed to be angry in her presence. He’d need to keep iron control over his emotions in the scene they played. It was just acting, choreographed and stylized, but it wouldn’t do to lose his cool in front of a crowd of paying customers. The stage shows were all about introducing the idea of BDSM to the onlookers. Many patrons came to play in the dungeons, but others were only there for a tiny taste of the alternative lifestyle. They wanted to watch a scene from the safety of the mezzanine floor and then talk about it. The staff at the dungeon always hoped they’d enjoy it and keep coming back for more.

  The Dom’s Dungeon worked strictly under the safe, sane, and consensual rule. Anyone who tried to ignore that was escorted from the building and never allowed to return. The club’s reputation was of the highest standard because that principle was never compromised. That had to be reflected in the stage shows. Drama was permissible. The audience gasping in surprise was always good, but only if the scene ended as they expected and no one was hurt or maltreated. Clients could be awed, but not scared. Beckett wondered what things Juliana had envisioned they do.

  His cock hardened as he pictured her shiny red head tipped down, her hair loose from the tight ponytail she normally wore, falling down over her breasts as she gripped her ankles and he whipped her ass. Then he sighed. That was not likely. A Domme would be doing the whipping. But not on him. No matter what Simon or Leif thought no one was going to whip him. Perhaps they have could have some volunteers to demonstrate on.

  Beckett was reasonably pleased with his life. All his childhood and youth had been spent moving from place to place with his family. His dad was career military, and his mom had been fully occupied with supporting his dad in his career and bringing up Beckett and his two sisters. His dad had expected him to go to military college, but although he was more than happy to learn to shoot all different kinds of weapons, drive anything with a steering wheel, and pass increasingly difficult physical fitness tests, what he wasn�
�t interested in was the constant moving around. For years he’d wanted to find a place he liked and stay there. Ohio suited him. The summers weren’t too hot, and the winter snow melted eventually into a glorious spring. Four seasons was his ideal, and Ohio had them. Now he’d bought a house and was here to stay.

  He liked working at The Dom’s Dungeon. Although he’d taken a job as a Dom, he was also very involved in the growing area of daytime programs put on at the club. This was a section of the business that Leif, Simon, and Tammy were expanding. They ran daytime events, workshops, training sessions, and parties. Most daytime events were a little tamer than their evening shows. But they were still able to give the curious a taste of BDSM. Some of the workshops were designed for those interested in the lifestyle so were more hardcore. The parties were fun. They were just slightly risqué programs for perhaps a bachelorette party or a woman’s birthday or even a farewell party for someone leaving a company or the area.

  Dom Beckett enjoyed displaying his craft and was content answering questions and letting those who were curious have a single taste of his whip. Not everyone was interested in BDSM, and that was fine by him. As long as one or two people were, the session was a success in his eyes because those one or two would be back, and they would bring their friends. That’s why he’d agreed to do this stage show with Juliana. Customers came specifically to watch the stage shows. While they were there, they ate a meal, and maybe they’d come back again and again. It was all good business. He was more than ready to play up the drama and make a good show for the crowd to watch.

  * * * *

  “What are you doing tonight, Jason?”

  Jason shook his head at Darcy. “I haven’t gotten anything planned. Do you need me to work?”

  “No, nothing like that. Violet, Raff and I are going to The Dom’s Dungeon for a meal and the floorshow. Apparently Beckett and Juliana are putting on a special display tonight and tomorrow night. Do you want to come with us?”

  “Are you sure I won’t be in the way?” Darcy and his two partners were very much an intimate item.

  “Of course not.”

  Jason was fairly certain Violet, Raff, and Darcy played in the dungeons sometimes. He’d been to the dungeon for a meal and watched the floor show a few times. He found the whole idea of BDSM quite fascinating, even though he didn’t think he was a submissive and he knew he wasn’t a Dom. “I’ll meet you there. What time?”

  “Say six? Then we can eat before the floor show.”

  Aha. That sounded like they had other plans for after the floor show. He really didn’t want to know about them. Meeting them there and having his own transportation was the best plan. “Okay, I’ll see you there at six then. Thanks for telling me about it. I’m interested to see Beckett in action. I enjoyed talking to him last week.”

  Jason waved to Darcy and also to Hammer and Cam, who were just leaving the farm, and headed back into town to his apartment. He’d deliberately chosen to get an apartment in the heart of the city as it made him central for wherever he had to go for his work. They did renovations all over the Richmond area. But ever since talking to Beckett, he’d been thinking more and more seriously about getting a place with a yard. As well as having a garden where he could grow vegetables, he’d maybe adopt a dog or two to play with in the backyard. Seeing how happy his boss was on the farm, and talking to Beckett about his house, had made Jason’s own itch to have a house of his own need scratching.

  His lease wasn’t up on his apartment for another three months. Perhaps he would start looking at houses. One on the same side of town as the construction office would cut down on some of the traveling.

  Jason had a shower and then dressed in black jeans and a black turtleneck underneath a black open-neck shirt. As he laced up his good black boots, he had a little smile to himself. The outfit was his own personal joke about the “neat black” policy many BDSM clubs applied. The clothing guide for The Dom’s Dungeon was “tidy casual,” but so many BDSM clubs stipulated “neat black” that he’d added these clothes to his closet especially for occasions when he went out with his boss.

  Of course, now that he had two partners, Darcy didn’t go out with him very often, but likely he should go out alone more anyway. It was a shame to waste the clothing. Besides, the food at The Dom’s Dungeon was very good. The chef there, Asher, was damn good, and even the bar snacks were way better than any bar snacks he’d ever eaten before.

  When he’d complimented them on the food, Asher had answered him seriously. “When people go out for a night’s entertainment, they want more than just a good floor show. They want atmosphere, fun, and a decent meal. We aim to exceed their expectations in every area.”

  Jason’s belly rumbled. He was more than ready to eat their delicious food, that was for sure.

  An hour later he was sitting with Darcy, Violet, and Raff on the mezzanine floor, at a table beside the railing, so they had a perfect view of the stage. Raff was sitting next to him, and they’d mostly been talking about work. Raff was a cowboy, initially hired to care for Violet’s two horses, Princess and Pedro, but he’d ended up working for Darcy as well. Jason hadn’t been on the same construction crew as him for the past few weeks because Raff was working on getting his trade certificate so was moving from job to job to complete all the requirements.

  “You’ve got a natural feel for construction. You should ace the tests, no worries.”

  “Wood is just the same as horses. If you ask it nicely, treat it gently, it’s more likely to do what you want,” answered Raff.

  “I’ve never thought of it like that before, but you’re right.”

  Violet danced with Darcy then with Raff and then gripped Jason’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “Uh, Violet, I’m not a very good dancer.”

  “Don’t worry. All you have to stand there and smile at me.”

  Jason allowed himself to be led over to the dance floor as Darcy said, “It’s no use arguing with her. She’s a very pushy woman.”

  Jason didn’t think she was the least bit pushy. Or, if she was, she needed to be to stand up to Darcy and Raff. But Violet didn’t seem to mind. She smiled happily at him, and they danced facing each other, not touching, for the requisite two dance numbers. At the end of it Jason smiled and thanked her.

  “You’re right. It was fun. Thank you for dragging me onto the dance floor.”

  “If you came here more often, you might meet a woman of your own. One who could teach you all about dancing.” Violet grinned at him.

  He was pretty sure that was meant as a double entendre but gave a noncommittal answer as he followed her back up to the mezzanine floor and their table. While they’d been dancing, Darcy had ordered another round of drinks and a platter of cheese and crackers.

  “The floor show’s about to start,” said Raff just as the lights started to dim.

  Jason leaned forward, watching the stage. He was eager to see Beckett in action.

  Becket stomped into the room from behind the bar. He was wearing traditional “Dom” clothing—black leather pants with a wide black leather belt, high black boots—and his chest was naked and oiled so it gleamed in the stage lighting.

  The Domme approached the stage from the opposite direction. She had flaming red hair that hung to the middle of her back and was wearing a black corset, thigh-high black boots, and a short black leather skirt that only just covered the gap between corset and boots. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, and Jason was surprised to recognize her as the woman who worked on the reception desk. In fact, if her hair hadn’t been such an unusual color, he wouldn’t have recognized her at all.

  That explains why the name Juliana seemed vaguely familiar. I must have heard people calling her that when she was working the reception desk.

  The Dom and the Domme reached the stage at exactly the same time, and there was some posturing about who would take control of the area. The man played the testosterone card, but the woman remained firm. Eventually they agreed to share,
and two helpers brought a large display board onto the stage. On it was a person-sized diagram.

  The assistants handed Beckett and Juliana each a whip. Each made a play with their whip, twirling it through the air, cracking it, and moving around the stage demonstrating their skills. Then they took turns, continuing to play man versus woman, whipping the paper picture, constantly one-upping each other’s style and strokes.

  There must have been colored paint or something like that behind the sheet because as each of them laid a stroke on the figure the color showed up. When they finished their display with the whips and stepped back from the board, a neat row of colored stripes, perfectly parallel to each other, was revealed.

  Jason clapped heartily. That was skillful.

  Juliana and Beckett shook hands and departed together, walking out of the room side by side, leaving the assistants to follow. That was a nice touch as well. They’d arrived as “enemies” and left as “friends.” It was a clever little vignette. Jason had enjoyed it very much.

  He also wouldn’t mind getting to know Juliana a whole lot better. Not that he planned to become her sub. Her boyfriend maybe though. He liked the idea of a smart woman who could think for herself. It was hard to believe he’d never noticed how attractive she was before. Maybe it was her hair. He’d only ever seen her with it tied up in a ponytail. Likely because that’s how she wore it for work.

  Hmm. Would a Domme let him kiss her breasts or lick her cunt? Oh, maybe she’d order him to kiss her there or to tongue fuck her. Jason’s dick stretched even longer at the thought. The problem was she likely had dozens of men falling at her feet and promising her endless orgasms already. Still, he’d definitely speak to her the next time he came here.

  “Jason? Jason?”

  “Huh? Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”