At His Mercy (Masters Club 1)

When the call connected, Cameron said, “Tell the girl to remove her coat and place it on the seat beside her.”

Though Cameron couldn’t see Vince on the screen, he heard him say, “Jess, please remove your coat.”

Jess’s head jerked from the window to stare at the back of the driver’s head. Vince, a retired heavyweight boxer, kept his head shaved bullet-smooth.

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

“Please remove your coat and place it on the seat beside you,” Vince repeated patiently in his deep bass voice.

Jess swallowed visibly, hesitating. But after a moment, she obeyed, unbuttoning the coat and slipping it from her shoulders.

Cameron drew in a breath. The girl was cinched into a low-cut black satin corset, the tops of her high, perfect breasts spilling over the stays. Below it was a short skirt of some kind of flowy material, her legs encased in sheer black stockings. His cock hardened at the lovely sight.

“Tell her to lift her skirt so her bottom is directly on the leather.” Would she catch the homage to Pauline Reage?

Vince conveyed the command. Jess blushed prettily but, after another moment’s hesitation, she again obeyed.

“Now, tell her to lean back and spread her legs wide,” he instructed Vince.

Vince repeated the order aloud. Her eyebrows furrowed, her mouth working as if she were about to speak. But, after a moment, she pressed her lips together and spread her knees wide apart, giving Cameron a good view of her crotch.

She was wearing a pair of black, lacy panties. That wouldn’t do.

“Tell her to remove her panties and hand them over the seat to you.”

Vince spoke clearly, but Jess replied, “I’m sorry. What?” as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

Again, the driver patiently repeated himself. Cameron would have liked to see Vince’s face at that moment. Was he smiling?

Jess bit her lower lip again, her teeth white against the deep red of her lipstick. Then, taking a fortifying breath, she lifted her ass and slid the bit of lace and silk down her legs. A moment later, she extended her hand over the back of the seat, bringing it back empty.

“Tell her to lift her skirt. She is to scoot her ass to the edge of the seat and again spread her legs wide. She is to put her arms behind her back, and to remain in that position, cunt on display, for the duration of the ride.”

Jess hesitated for several long moments after Vince’s relayed instructions.

“Do it,” Cameron murmured. He was startled by how much he wanted her to succeed.

As if receiving his message telepathically, Jess blew out a breath and assumed the position. Her cunt was shaven smooth, the dark pink labia beautifully formed. Cameron’s cock hardened to steel, forcing him to reach into his trousers to adjust himself.

Hopefully, Vince would be able to focus on his driving between sneaking peeks at the girl’s wanton, lovely display.

A few minutes later, the Mercedes pulled into the six-car garage—converted from the original horse stables a century before—and cut the engine.

Cameron shot a text to Dominique.

“The new recruit has arrived.”

Rising from the desk, he moved toward one of the chairs that faced the chamber. He settled himself comfortably, eagerly anticipating Jess’s audition.

~*~

Jess breathed a sigh of relief as the car slid smoothly into a garage beneath an imposing brownstone, the door lowering silently behind them. Was she allowed to close her legs yet? The driver said nothing one way or the other, so she stayed as she was, skirt hiked up lewdly, legs spread wide.

She’d understood almost immediately that his peculiar commands as they drove were some kind of test—one she was determined to pass. Was he acting on his own or following instructions from another source? From Mr. Lord? Regardless, that didn’t stop his eyes from meeting hers in the rearview mirror, and then sliding downward.

She hadn’t been sure whether he could see her bared sex in the mirror, but the impulse to slam her legs closed had been nearly overwhelming. Yet, somehow, she’d managed to hold the position for the last few agonizing minutes of the drive.

Along with her embarrassment, however, was a deep, thrilling sense of excitement, of expectation, of adventure. It made her realize she’d been coasting in terms of her BDSM exploration lately—engaging in the same old scenes with the same old players at the same old clubs.

It was hard to believe a year had already passed since she’d broken things off with Parker. Dear, sweet, sincere Parker. Even after all this time, and even though it was definitely the right decision, she still felt a pang of guilty remorse when she recalled the way he’d crumpled in on himself when she’d handed back the engagement ring, both of them crying by then.

They’d been together since the start of their law school days. After graduation, he’d focused on environmental law, working at a small non-profit for less than half of what she was making. She’d admired that about him—his indifference to money and his desire to save the world. She’d told herself over and over how lucky she was to have him. He was handsome, kind, smart, and…painfully vanilla.