Master's Flame by Annabel Joseph Read Free Book Online

eroticism. Her small, firm breasts jutted forward, tipped by taut nipples. At a signal, his pets collected her clothing, folding and stacking it neatly next to theirs. Another gesture and the men knelt, heads bowed, one at either side of him.
    Valentina looked impressed. She regarded their naked splendor hungrily, the little nympho. He cleared his throat to get her attention. “What draws you to power exchange?” he asked. “Only enjoyment? Only sex?”
    “I know there’s more to it than that. I know there must be trust, and negotiating, and safewords.”
    “Safewords?” He gave a tight smile. “There is nothing safe about words. Something to remember if you ever give your body over to a dominant’s will.”
    “I don’t care about being safe.” Her fingers twisted together in the intensity of her confession. “I want pain and surrender. I want to be subdued, pushed to my limits. Forced to obey.”
    “Do you?” How he wished to reach out and touch her.
You will harm this one
, his conscience whispered.
If she does not destroy you first.
    The warnings blared in his brain each time he thought about taking what she so blatantly offered. He must turn her off. He looked away, feigning disinterest in her body, in her submission. He undressed in silence, giving each article of clothing to his fastidious pets to put away. Valentina made no attempt to disguise her curiosity. He would have been disappointed if she did. Her eyes caressed every part of his body, lingering on his thickening cock. He enjoyed her admiration but seduction wasn’t the point of this interlude.
    What is the point, Michel? Besides lying to yourself?
    With great effort, he silenced his misgivings and led
La Vampa
into his most sacred space.
    The “Back Room” as it was called, was of stone and concrete. It was smaller, quieter, but no less depraved than the rest of the club. Chains hung from wood beams in the ceiling, and racks, benches, a cage, and a sex swing decorated the stark space. In the corner, a large chair dominated a raised platform. It was his chair, the throne from which he surveyed his kingdom of kink. Sometimes, at his invitation, this space was filled with a hundred people. Today, it held only him, his slaves, and her.
    Valentina drew a deep breath beside him. “It’s so beautiful.”
    Odd. He had never considered it beautiful. Dark, forbidding, even claustrophobic, but beautiful?
    “Look around if you like,” he said, because he could tell she wanted to. With a soft sigh she left him, circling the perimeter of the room. She studied everything, touching and tracing, making exclamations of delight. His slaves remained motionless, one at either side of him, awaiting instructions. They were much better trained than Valentina. For all her claims of submissive tendencies, she had no training at all.
And it must stay that way. Do not imagine her kneeling down, conquered. Do not imagine her whimpering at your feet.
    He let her explore the room as she liked, but when she would have reached to grab a flogger off his wall, he made a sound that arrested her and she moved away. Her eyes were huge, bright with curiosity. She made her way to his large chair, the deep, embossed leather chair that no one ever dared sit in, and made herself at home in the seat. What must his slaves think? But they were not allowed to judge or react, or do anything but obey his orders.
    He crossed to her and held out a hand, pointing with his other to a place on the floor. “I sit in the chair, my dear. You may sit here. Do not move a millimeter without my permission, do you understand?”
    Valentina settled beside him without argument, hugging her knees to her chest. She showed no reserve or alarm. Somehow he wanted to change that. How could she be so glib here in his dreaded dungeon room with two of the most masochistic slaves he’d ever owned?
    “
Soixante-neuf
,” he commanded, gesturing between them. “Make it beautiful for our guest.”
    The young men