Claimed (Club Sin 1)

Remembering what Cora had taught her about the proper kn

eeling position, she lowered herself to her knees on the hardwood floor, bowed her head, and clasped her wrists at her back. And oh, God, where was Cora? The last time she’d seen her was with Master Aidan, when they arrived at the dungeon, but was she somewhere in the crowd, watching?

A minute passed. No one acknowledged her presence or talked to her; she assumed she looked like a statue. Oh, but there’s a lot of people behind you, and they’re looking at your bare butt!

After another few minutes that were probably short but seemed like a damn lifetime, Master Dmitri’s voice startled her. “Good evening,” he told the crowd, and the people behind her stayed silent. “Tonight, for our demonstration, I have a special treat for you.”

Presley’s heart skipped a beat, but her thoughts had to mislead her. Master Dmitri wouldn’t put her on display in front of all these people . . . and do things to her . . . wicked things, would he?

A pin could’ve dropped, and it would’ve sounded like a loud boom on the floor as the air around her appeared to vanish. A hand came into her line of vision, as well as black shiny shoes, and she cringed. “Come now, doll.”

Chapter Thirteen

Dmitri restrained the hot bursts of excitement rushing through his veins as he climbed the stairs of the stage. He chuckled at Presley’s sweaty hand tangled with his as they traveled to the center of the large steel platform.

He stopped at the front of the stage, the warm spotlights beamed down on him, and he glanced at Presley, swearing he could see the hammer of her pulse along her neck. “To your knees.”

The earlier event in the games room had happened for two reasons. Not only as a punishment, since he’d known she’d be uncomfortable. He had stated in the clearest terms he could that if she acted in such a way again, she’d end up nude and exposed. A clear consequence that would hopefully make her think twice before running again. He’d also administered the punishment in that manner to soften the blow of the scene he had planned for her tonight.

Demonstrations by the Club Sin Masters for the other members happened biweekly in the dungeon. From Master Sawyer with ropes to Master Kyler with the flogger, Dmitri enjoyed sharing what he and the other Masters had learned over the years with Club Sin members. Tonight—and little did Presley know—was his night to put on such a demonstration.

Presley had already learned that she enjoyed having others watch her, and perhaps that was why she’d taken his hand and followed him onto the stage. She was nervous, yes, but brave. At the moment, he loved and hated that trait in her. Part of him wanted her to be brave for him, not to prove to herself that she could do it, to be a different woman, stronger and not shy. He wanted her to act because of her submission to him, though the other part of him knew asking that of her wasn’t his right. He was only training her. The personal reasons behind her actions shouldn’t concern him, only that she complied with his demands, as was expected of any Club Sin submissive.

Once she dropped to her knees like a nice little submissive, with her head bowed, wrists clasped at her back, knees spread wide to show off her pretty pussy, and breasts high, he turned to the crowd. He had noticed earlier how the approval of the other Masters gave Presley strength, heating her up some. She needed reassurance, and he would ensure that she received it. “Lovely sub I have, don’t I?”

Murmers of agreement drifted up from the crowd, and Presley’s shoulders slumped, her breath elongating. He wanted her nervous, as that teased him, but he didn’t want her terrified. Yet as he stared at Presley kneeling and waiting for him, a wave of heat washed through him, tightening his groin. Seeing her like this stunned him. He’d never seen anything this beautiful.

Was it her responsiveness to his orders making this moment different from when he’d been on this stage with other submissives? How pretty Presley looked tonight with her blond hair trailing over her back? The pride he felt as she knelt there, when the shy side of her would’ve run away? Had it been the last week of nonstop thinking about her and planning for tonight? Whatever the reason, something in the way she waited there affected him, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

Leaving the thoughts behind, he tugged on the rope dangling from the ceiling, and the movable hook shifted forward under his pull. The thought of Presley tied up in this fashion hardened his cock to steel. Last weekend he’d shown her that she could trust him when restrained, and now he’d pushed more of those limits on her.

He’d been gentle with her introduction to BDSM, giving her time to grow used to the sexual play in the dungeon, to determine her limits, and for her to experience her first scene privately. The time for gentleness had ended. Presley got off on bondage and being watched by others, and Dmitri certainly got rock-hard watching her.

With the rope positioned at her back, he smiled down at her as he witnessed her clenched hands. “Look at me, Presley.”

She lifted her head, and her cheeks were the lovely crimson he’d grown to like. Her eyes were wide, and she was a perfect bundle of anticipation. “Offer your wrists, doll.”

Slowly, she lifted her hands in front of her, and he spotted her deep swallow. Yet he didn’t doubt in the least that if he slid his fingers between her thighs, they’d come back wet.

Quickly, he bound her wrists and secured the rope, pulling her wrists together. He stepped back, taking a measure of her, and he saw that she looked quite comfortable; too comfortable, in fact. “Not so skittish about this, are you?”

Her lips parted, but he didn’t allow her to finish her thought. He looked at Kyler, who stood at the side of the stage, and gave a quick nod. Kyler jumped up on the stage and approached the crank. Dmitri would’ve raised her up himself, but she needed him close. She drew strength from his presence, and he wouldn’t abandon Presley at such a vulnerable time.

Once Kyler started to turn the crank, Presley’s gasp filled the air as her arms were lifted higher . . . and higher . . . and higher . . . until the crank gave a push back.

His submissive wasn’t looking so comfortable now. The binding had forced her to stand, and her arms were now straight over her head, jutting out her breasts.

Mesmerized by the view, Dmitri cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples between his thumb and index finger. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned her head on her arm with a sigh.

Tweaking one taut bud with a hard pinch, he trailed his other hand down her smooth stomach and found her slick heat. He tickled her warm swollen clit, moving back to find her beautifully damp. “Love, you’re very wet.”

“Yes, sir,” she groaned.

She didn’t open her eyes to him; he wasn’t at all surprised by her arousal. Her heated reaction when Cora was bound in public had told him that Presley would enjoy being put on display in restraints.

“Look at me, Presley.”

Her eyes opened, and she stared at him, her soul exposed. His cock twitched, and an urge to possess her drove him to seal his mouth over hers. She opened for his intrusion, and his tongue tangled with hers, not gentle but harsh and demanding. Her whimpers echoed in his ears as she gave herself over to him, following the movements he commanded.