The Parlour (VDB #1) by Charlotte E Hart Read Free Book Online Page B

but I’ve lived here for near on twelve years. I currently have two subs, Jackson and Monty, both utterly useless and a waste of my time. That’s a Domme’s way of saying I love them, kind of. Questions? Now’s your chance, lovey.”
    “I haven’t a clue what I’m supposed to ask.”
    “Hmm, last chance?”
    “Okay, what’s expected of me?”
    “Here,” she says as she throws a manual at me. “That there is the rule book for Dominants and submissives. It’s a base point really. We all have our differences. Learn the words, terms, how you should appear, what you should say. When you’ve done a few rounds with me, we’ll switch you onto someone else, maybe a man with a little more ferocity than me. Then we’ll know what you can handle, what you like and don’t like.”
    “You mean I get a choice?”
    “Course you do. There’s no point putting you near a sadist if you can’t handle the pain he’ll put you through. In the same respect, there’s no point putting you with a Dom who’s all sweetness and light if you like it rougher, is there? What do you like, Lilah?”
    Jesus! Subtle, she is not.
    “Intelligence.” I might as well be honest. She bursts out laughing and claps her hands as if something’s hilarious. I’m not sure that it is, but at least she’s not slapping me again.
    “Oh, we’re gonna get on like a house on fire. You ready?” she asks as she turns and heads for the door again. I get the distinct impression that means I don’t have a choice about whether I’m ready or not, just that I have to be.
    “Okay,” I reply as I grab my coat, swing it around my shoulders and shove the hat on my head. “As I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
     
     
    ~
     
    Five hours later and we’ve shopped our arses off. Apparently I need more clothes than the ones already in the wardrobe. I certainly do need more shoes. I’ve also had some auburn highlights put in my hair, which has been chopped into a shorter bob, and a facial, leg wax, crotch wax, eyebrow threading, some kind of body scrub, which rejuvenates my pores, and to top it off, my nails have grown, quite substantially. They are also a very elegant grey to match my dress, which I’m supposed to bin the moment we get back because it’s baggy. Okay.
    We’ve been in this car for the last twenty minutes, battling the downtown traffic, and we still don’t seem to be getting anywhere. Jacob, the chauffeur driving us, is the original guy who found me. He says there’s been a crash somewhere, so Vixon is on the phone with Roxanne telling her we’ll be late. She’s been quite the bundle of fun really. Nice, even. She seems like a decent person, if a bit strange. But she does have this aura about her that makes you want to follow her, or maybe do as she asks. She reminds me of Mr. Nockson at my old job. He had that about him, too. Like you didn’t really want to do what he said, but you couldn’t help but do it anyway, maybe waiting for a pat on the head like a good little girl or some rubbish. He was two managers above me and never noticed me at all, but every now and then I’d need to get his signature for some case. He’d always smile politely, but he had something about him that just said, ‘be careful’. You know, like a warning of some description. Vixon’s got that, too. She’s dressed in leather at the moment, which rather highlights her sinister appearance, but I think she’d still have it if she was in fluffy pyjamas.
    “’Kay, Rox,” she says, sucking an olive off a stick and then mixing the other around her martini. I’ve not been allowed a drink. I have a training session to get back to, which doesn’t include drink apparently. “Yeah, I’ll meet you in there.” And with that, she switches off the phone and looks me over again. “You okay, Lilah James?”
    “I think so,” I respond dully. What am I supposed to say? ‘Yay, bring on the whips and shit’?
    “You’ll be fine, lovey. Just go with it and we’ll see