Monday, June 28, 2010

Corporate Needs by Bridget Midway

Chapter One

Princess Watkins sauntered down the hallway of Suite Surrender, a leash in her hand and her client puppy trailing behind her. She didn’t want to glance at the man on all fours, who now only wore bikini bottoms, and was rumored to be the head of the largest telecommunications corporation in the world. How the man managed to find this quaint bed-and-breakfast in the rural area of Virginia Beach with its unique services, she would never know.
Outside a set of imposing, heavy oak double doors, with black wrought iron bars covering the small window openings at the top, Princess stopped. Dipshit, her pet for the duration of his stay, decided that it was time to truly act the part of a young pup and scampered around her feet, wrapping his leash around her legs.
Damn it.  Why can’t guys like these just have affairs like normal, uptight CEOs? Princess released a noise through her nose and mouth that contained both a growl and something close to a whine.
Dipshit’s antics wouldn’t have bothered her so much if she weren’t in six-inch, Lucite stiletto heels. She’d mastered walking in the skyscraper shoes. However, she didn’t count on the fact that her legs would be bound together by a sixty-plus year-old man with his ass crack showing through his black leather bottoms, and wearing glasses with lenses thick enough to see other galaxies.
The leather strap of the leash dug into her flesh. The stinging pain from the binding forced her to bite her lower lip while her body betrayed her. Her nipples hardened. Goosebumps prickled her flesh. Until she looked down at the man-dog, her stomach bound into knots. She had to regain control, show this idiot who had the power.
“Heel. Shit. Heel!” Princess tipped over, slamming her hand against the door.
It must have sounded like a knock.
“Who is it?” a voice called from inside.
Through the thick doors, Princess couldn’t discern who answered. Suite Surrender started with just her, her friend May Davenport—well, Biggers now—and Winston Biggers, May’s new husband.
“Woof! Woof!” Dipshit barked. Slobber oozed from the corner of his small mouth.
Holy hell. Although May had asked Princess not to, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the man’s behavior.
“If you keep rolling your eyes like that, the clients will think you’re bored and don’t care,” May had told her.
Damn, Princess didn’t want to make it obvious, but in the last year something in her died. Making the type of money she made here to release her frustrations on men who wanted to be her slave, how could she not be happy…or at least content?
Princess managed to wriggle one leg free from the leash binding. She braced her hand against the door as she attempted to untangle the other leg. Like the dog he pretended to be, he sat on his ass with his fists on the floor, and panted with his tongue hanging out to round out the look.
At that moment, she wanted to ask him why the hell did his company release an expensive-ass phone that was the hot thing, then upgrade the same model and put that one up for sale a month later. She’d sunk a pretty penny for the original. It pained Princess to part with her dough. Maybe this guy needed to feel some anguish.
For letting her waste her funds on the first version, Princess raised her foot to give the pretend pooch a kick. The door she rested her hand on flew open, sending her hurling toward the floor.
A set of arms netted her before she reached the ground. The stumbling motion pulled on the collar attached to the leash, making Dipshit’s head jerk forward. For good measure, he yelped as though in pain.
When Princess gazed up, May stared back at her. The shy, timid woman who ordered margaritas with sugar on the rim had disappeared a couple of years ago. The woman holding her exuded confidence and a sexuality that rivaled even Princess’s swagger.
May peered over Princess’s shoulder. “You know the rules. No pets in the office.”
Princess glared at the pudgy man. “Trust me. I was not bringing him in here.” She righted herself and managed to untangle her leg with May’s help. “Actually, I was heading to—”
“Do you have time to come in and talk to me?” May took a step back to usher Princess into the office.
“Um, sure.” Princess returned her attention to Dipshit. “Go outside and play.”
Dipshit panted faster and jumped around in a circle. Before he could finish his headache-inducing dance, Princess slammed the door and swayed to a large high-back chair in front of May’s desk.
Princess had never noticed until now that distressed wood made up May’s desk.
As though reading her thoughts—or perhaps Princess’s staring at the piece of furniture gave her away—May said, “They’re the doors from the old Oh Club.”
Princess volleyed her attention between May and the unique furniture piece.
“Before they tore the place down, Win got the doors and had them made into a desk.”
With great trepidation, Princess reached her hand out and smoothed it over the desktop. It felt as uneven as it looked, and the rough exterior matched the actions that had gone on inside of the club.
“Why would you want this here?” Princess felt her face contort into a smirk. “Didn’t you have enough of that place? Why would you want to remember?”
A slow, easy smile pulled at the corners of May’s mouth. “I met the man of my dreams there. That’s the only good thing I recall when I think of The Oh Club.”
At hearing May’s admission, a realization hit Princess. May probably showed her appreciation and gratitude to her husband in a physical way, right on top of that desk where her hand sat. Princess withdrew her hand and placed it on her lap.
“So, what’s up, Boss?” Princess crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair.
For whatever reason, her inquiry produced a chuckle from May.
“What’s so funny? Let a sista in on the joke.”
“Remember the night you brought me to The Oh Club for the first time? We had gone out to that Mexican place for drinks first. You and I toasted to the idea that all bosses should rot in hell.” May laughed.
Princess shook her head. “Man, that seems like a lifetime ago. I can’t believe you remembered that.”
“You really didn’t like Edna, did you?”
Princess felt her eyebrows rut together again.
“Sorry. Madame Z.”
With the clarification made, Princess shrugged. “She was all right, I suppose. Just a strange business for her to do, you know.”
“What do you think of our little business?” May leaned back in her swivel chair.
“A BDSM bed-and-breakfast? It’s different. Not a lot of them around, I guess. Just find it strange that after all of the shit you went through, the bust and jail and everything, why would you want to keep yourself in this line of work? Aren’t you afraid of getting arrested again?”
“Are you? You’re working here. Why do you still do it?”
The query forced Princess to ponder her decision to stay. The salary promised and delivered to her more than made up for any second thoughts. Something more kept her wanting to stay in an industry where pain equaled pleasure. She liked controlling a person’s bliss and agony. She did wonder if she should be the one having the power.
That little bit of doubt pecked at her psyche a little more each day. She chalked up those negative thoughts to her past, how she grew up and her less-than-stellar influences.
Despite that, or maybe because of it, Princess had grown stronger, independent, self-sufficient. With guys like Dipshit, she managed to silence those doubts in short order.
“If five-oh comes up in here, I think you and Win will get the brunt of the charges. A first-time offender like me might get off with a slap on the wrist.” Princess glanced at her fingernails. “This is Virginia. Virginia is for lovers, not for ass-beaters.”
May shook her head before she answered. “We’re not hurting anyone. Well, not anyone who doesn’t want it.” She winked. “Like The Oh Club, no one here has sex for money.” Then she regarded Princess for a while as though challenging that assumption.
“Hey, I’m a lot of things, but I ain’t no ho’.” She wagged her finger at her friend.
“I know that. You were very clear on that stance at The Oh Club. I have to be honest with you, Princess. You don’t seem like yourself these days. Are you okay?” May stood and walked around her desk.
In her long, flowing caftan, May now reminded Princess as some sort of Mother Earth figure. All she needed was a crown of flowers on her head of flowing dark brown hair and a couple of chirping birds by her side.
Princess couldn’t deny, though, that May radiated more now than she’d ever seen her, even back in high school. Her golden brown skin could make a supermodel envious, and May always had a way of drawing people in with her large, soulful eyes. Her gaze could sway even the most stubborn person.
Princess took a deep breath before answering. “Girl, you know me. I’m just fine. Sure, that whole shakedown at The Oh Club scared me. I’m just glad I wasn’t there that night. With what you all pay me, I don’t have any right to complain.”
“And for what you do around here, you should be proud of yourself. You get a lot of repeat customers, Princess, or should I say, Mistress Agony. I kind of like Mistress Payne, though. I’m sorry you’re not still using that name.”
“I didn’t want to hold onto to that old name.” Princess shook her head. “Nah, a clean slate. That’s what I needed.”
“And how’s your social life?”
Princess had to blink at that inquiry. Didn’t seem like it was that long ago that she had asked May the same thing. Right afterward, Princess had her working at the BDSM club in Norfolk.
Just May’s luck, she’d found her knight in shining leather chaps. Meanwhile, Princess worked at that place for nearly two years before that and never found a suitable prospect.
“Social life? You mean a love life? Hard to have one when I spend most of my time here.” Princess kicked her foot back and forth.
“We only ask you to stay here on the grounds when we’re open, which is three months in the summer and three months in the winter. The other time is yours.” May leaned against her desk as she faced her friend. “So?”
“So what? I haven’t met anybody. I’m not going to meet anyone here. I’m fine with that.”
May held out her hand. “Stand up.”
“For what?” Princess crossed her arms over her chest.
“Trust me.”
Overall, she did trust her friend. She would do anything for her. Princess regarded May as family more than her own flesh and blood.  
Princess slipped her hand into May’s and stood. Even in her stacked heels, she still didn’t meet May’s gaze eye-to-eye. More like eye-to-chin.
May led her off to the side of her desk to a wall where a tall mirror sat. With one hand on Princess’s shoulder, they faced the mirror together. That moment, Princess noticed the stark contrast in their skin tones, how her dark skin stood out next to May’s lighter tone.
May brushed Princess’s braided hair off of her shoulder. “What do you see when you look at yourself in the mirror?”
“Okay, Oprah, what kind of New Age shit is this?”
“Something I learned a while back when a good friend of mine told me I needed to own my sexuality.”
“Ha!” Princess faced May. “Since when have I ever had a problem with that?”
May’s smile melted. “I don’t know. Do you?”
Princess brushed off May’s claims. “You are worried about nothing. I’m fine here.”
“For now, right?”
Princess returned her gaze to the mirror. “I can’t do this forever, you know. It’s not like I’m going to be in my sixties and still whipping executives’ asses. I have to have a plan, right? I mean, let’s face it. The economy’s not that great, and we’re in the pleasure business. We’re not recession-proof.”
“So you’re afraid of being unemployed?”
“Aren’t you? I mean, if we don’t get busted by the cops, aren’t you afraid that business will dry up?”
May pulled Princess closer to her. “Win and I have enough saved up that if we wanted to leave this tomorrow, we would still be fine.”
“Oh, nice for you.” Princess dropped her gaze to the floor.
“You’re my friend. I would make sure you’re taken care of even after this place closes, which won’t be for a long time.”
“How can you be so sure of that?”
“For one, Win just hired a new accountant and a new Dominant.”
Great. Two more people to split their earnings. Hiring more people didn’t sound like a good idea, but what did Princess know? This wasn’t her business. It was May and Win’s.
May continued. “We’re careful with our clients. As long as we don’t get a loose cannon in here, we can sustain it for a while.”
At that moment, the office doors flew open and Win stormed inside, dragging Dipshit behind him. The pretend dog had to trot on two legs just to keep up.
“Does this belong to you?” Win held the leash up, making a hangman’s noose around Dipshit’s neck with his collar.
Winston’s dark hair, parted on the side, appeared messy and unkempt like he had been in a fight. The grass stains and rip in his khaki pants supported the altercation theory. His cheeks looked flushed as though he’d been running a marathon. His blue eyes darkened the closer he got to the duo.
“He’s mine. What did he do?” Princess approached Win.
“He was playing out in the street. What the hell? If I hadn’t driven up, he could have been caught by a delivery truck or the mail carrier.” Win shoved the leash into Princess’s hands. “Why weren’t you watching him?”
“Don’t blame her.” May framed Win’s face in her hands. “It’s my fault. I called her in here while they were in a scene. I should have known better.”
“He could have ruined this for all of us. If someone had seen him, we—”
“It’s my fault,” Princess said, interrupting him. “I told him to go play. I just assumed it would have been in the backyard. I should have known he would have done something to get punished.” She glared at him and yanked his leash down to get him back on all fours again. “You want my attention? You got it!” She looked back at her friends. “Sorry about this. It’ll never happen again. I’ll be sure to punish him.”
“If you don’t, I will.” Win plowed his long fingers through his hair.
Damn, May must be a satisfied woman. Princess remembered his body, and his notable cock, from the one and only time she got to play with him at The Oh Club.
No wonder May had nothing but good memories of the place. Even angry, Win radiated sexiness. If Princess could find a guy like that, a man full of passion and heat, she would be ecstatic.
Wait a minute. Passion and heat. That deadly combination had gotten her in trouble in the past. Maybe safe and stable should be what she went for now.
“You got to Dipshit first.” May trailed behind him, attempting to calm the situation. “It’s okay.”
“I want everything to be right when—” Win glanced at Princess and her pet. “You can go punish him now.”
Princess snapped back to reality. “Oh yeah, right. Talk to you later.” She yanked on the leather strap to pull the man out of the office. Then she closed the door behind them.
As much as she wanted to stand at the door and listen to their conversation, Princess knew better. She stomped down the wide hallway to her assigned dungeon.
The building used to be an old school, so the old familiar tiles covered the floor in lots of areas throughout the building. Princess’s heels clicked on the floor while the mutt behind her slapped his bare feet and hands on the hard, shiny surface.
Good. Crawling on the hard floor in a quick fashion would be a great start to a rough punishment. Princess imagined the pain that must have shot through his knobby knees and his too delicate hands. For good measure, she yanked his collar again, causing his round head to jut forward.
Princess returned her attention back to her destination. She envisioned lockers lining the walls, and hearing a school bell ringing. School. Another tumultuous time in her life that shaped her destiny. Never again would she be defined by where she lived, by her relatives, or her past. Just like with this building, things had changed.
Win and May created several bedrooms for the employees to live in during the open season. Being with them as they created this space, Princess got to customize both her room and her personal dungeon. Friendship had its perks.
The gymnasium had been transformed into a large, open dungeon play area. St. Andrews’ crosses that could be raised and lowered replaced the basketball hoops at either end of the floor. Dog kennels lined one side of the wall. Several raised, padded platforms with restraints at each corner sat in the corners of the room. In the middle of the room, swings hung down low and OB/GYN tables sat on either side of the swings. Where the coaches’ area used to be, whips, chains, floggers, paddles and all sorts of toys now hung. Win had spared no expense in renovating this building and stocking it with the necessary items.
“Get your ass over here!” Princess pulled Dipshit to her dungeon door.
She unlocked it and, for dramatic effect, kicked it open. Princess rested her foot on the tip when her stunning kick resulted in intense pain in her ankle. No one would ever accuse her of being graceful. Direct? Of course. Blunt? Always. Delicate flower? Never.
Red and black colored her room, matching her fiery temperament. She had one tall, red-padded platform that sat in the middle of the room. One large wooden St. Andrews’ cross stood at one corner of the room. A small swing had been installed, but Princess kept it elevated and close to the ceiling to give her room to play. All of her favorite toys—whips, chains, handcuffs, nipple clamps, floggers, paddles, wrist and ankle cuffs, and canes—lined the walls.
She took off the leash and tossed it to the floor. “Get undressed.”
Princess strolled to a corner of the room where a high set of drawers sat. After opening the top drawer, she pulled out a pair of black leather gloves and slipped them on her hands. When she turned around, she didn’t expect to see Dipshit sitting on the floor with his head cocked like a confused puppy.
Before storming back to him, she pulled a whip off of the wall. “What the fuck did I just say to you?”
Since his leash had been removed, she hooked her finger in his collar and pulled him up to his feet. “Take this shit off, turn your ass around, and get into the goddamn position!” She shoved him back.
Dipshit whimpered like a dog and even pouted. When Princess raised her whip, he got into action and stripped out of the leather bottoms. Damn it, his stubby cock stood at attention. Why couldn’t she get some hot guy to react to her that way instead of portly Poindexter?
She fisted his thin hair, as much as she could grab, and pulled him to the cross, slamming his back against it. The short stop caused her to knee him in the balls by mistake. He winced, but then a creepy smile crept across his face. Fuck, disciplining pain sluts took so much out of her.
“Your fucking safe word is pink. You got that?” She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “You understand me?”
He nodded his head.
“Now, I don’t care if you bark it, whimper it, or scream it like a little bitch. If I don’t hear pink, then I’m wearing your fat ass out.” She jerked his head to the side before she let him go. “Now turn around and put your hands up.”
Dipshit did so with a lot of eagerness. This time Princess wouldn’t have to force herself to be a hard disciplinarian. She wanted to whip him, make him hurt. She wanted to break him.
No one fucked with her friends. Although in her pissed off state, she should have walked away from this scene. She needed some relief as well.
After tucking her whip under her arm, Princess secured his wrists in the cuffs over his head. “You know how to activate the panic releases, right?”
Dipshit faced her. After a beat he barked and his tongue flopped out of his mouth. When he panted, Princess had to take several steps back. Did the man actually lick his own ass like a dog, too, or did his breath smell like that all of the time?
“That’s how you want to play it? Fine.” Princess marched a few feet behind him.
In preparation, she swung the whip back and forth, not snapping it yet, just to gauge the length. As much as she wanted to hurt him, it wasn’t the way in true BDSM play. She made one snap next to him and watched him jump at the sound.
With the first test throw out of the way, she cracked the whip again, this time finding her mark on the center of his pale back. In the middle of June, this man should have had some sort of tan by now. Princess certainly hadn’t kept him locked up inside all day. Maybe his work had.
Dipshit curved his back in after the hit. Only touching him with the tail end of the whip, she left a small dark pink mark on his skin. Princess continued whipping him, watching him writhe and squirm after each connection. It made her wonder what it felt like.
She’d never been whipped or flogged or even paddled. Sure, during some kinky sex with some ex-boyfriends she’d been spanked. But, to be strung up, helpless, that would never happen. Being dependant on anyone—financially, emotionally or even sexually—didn’t sit well with her. Like her grandmother had always said, she could do bad all by herself.  
Princess knew the barrier keeping her from experiencing the feeling of helplessness: trust. She didn’t trust a man enough to relinquish power to him. Having and maintaining control drew her to the whole BDSM lifestyle in the first place. Lording power over men felt amazing…at first. Somewhere along the line, perhaps right after the bust at The Oh Club, her passion started to fade.
Hearing Dipshit whimpering louder and louder sobered her to the situation occurring now. She blinked and glanced at his back, now covered in red streaks from the top of his back all the way down to his ass cheeks. He huffed as he gripped onto the wrist restraints to steady himself.
Princess set the whip onto the platform and pulled a rounded paddle from the wall. One smack against his cheek and he moaned his approval. She continued the treatment, smacking him over his back, over his cheeks, and down his legs, being sure to stay clear of the backs of his knees. She was a sadist, but she didn’t want to cripple the man.
After an intense session with the paddle, she switched to a cane. His skin had been warmed up with the whip and paddle, so she didn’t need to ease him into this session. Princess tapped him on his upper back first.
Dipshit moaned and craned his head back to look at her. Every time he tried to get her in his sights, Princess hid from his line of vision. If gazing at her pleased him, then she didn’t need to be an object of his fantasy. He just needed to feel the pain she inflicted.
When she first started dominating, Princess would get as turned on as the men she dominated. Her nipples would harden and her pussy would get wet as soon as they yelped.
Nowadays, her heart pounded because the session went on for too long and she got tired. Her nipples got hard if the room temperature dipped to freezing, and no worries on her panties getting soaked. The losers that had come to the club couldn’t turn on a light bulb even if the switch rested under their hands.
When Princess finished her caning portion, she went straight to hand spanking. She fisted the hair on the back of his head this time, then spanked his ass with her other hand.
“You are not to go out in the front yard looking like this again.” In between each word she smacked his ass, leaving it even redder than she had made it from the earlier punishment. “Do you understand?”
Dipshit grunted, but didn’t answer. She continued smacking his ass, changing where her hand landed, but with the same intensity.
“I said, do you understand me?”
This time Dipshit did give her a response. He grunted. His body tensed for a moment. Right away, Princess knew what had happened.
Although she continued fisting his hair, she peered around him and noticed a thick, milky liquid oozing down the X of the cross and onto the floor.
Shit. She forgot to tell him not to come. She let go of his hair. While he attempted to regain his composure, she trotted to a large dog kennel in the room and opened the door. Then she went back to Dipshit and undid his wrist cuffs. Once down, she wasted no time in putting him to work.
From the second drawer by the sink hid cleaning supplies. Princess pulled out a roll of paper towels and liquid cleaner. “Clean up your mess, then get the fuck in your kennel.”
Without question, he did so. If Princess wasn’t mistaken, she thought she heard him snickering as he cleaned. To make the task less enjoyable, Princess sunk her spiked heel into his back. She heard him whimper; the sound sent a ripple through her skin.
Maybe she hadn’t lost all of her passion for the Lifestyle. Her waning passion had to be the fault of her recent subjects. The right submissive could bring her back to life. The upcoming slave auction would give her that chance for a new beginning, a clean slate as May had said earlier.
When Dipshit finished, Princess grabbed his collar and pulled him to his cage. She shoved him inside and closed the door.
“Don’t you leave this cage. I’ll come get you when I feel like it, got it?” As Princess walked away, she heard Dipshit sniveling. She didn’t know what was worse: hearing him sound like a dog or hearing him talk, not that she had heard him speak, not in person anyway.
Princess turned off the light to her room and closed the door to cloak him in complete darkness.
Dipshit pushed her limits as much as she enjoyed pushing his. His antics started becoming tiresome, like an overactive child needing attention. Princess needed a submissive who understood the true BDSM lifestyle and would be willing to act in those parameters, obeying her, keeping quiet, keeping her satisfied.
Dealing with temporary subs wore on her, both physically and mentally. She needed something to perk her interests. If she couldn’t find it here at Suite Surrender, she would have to go, leave May and Win. Take charge of her life.
With nothing renewing her passion for the work, why stay?