B is for… Read online

  B is for…

  BDSM Checklist, Volume Two

  L. Dubois

  Published by:

  Farm Boy Press,

  Los Angeles,

  California,

  United States of America.

  First electronic edition May 2014

  Copyright © 2014 L. Dubois, all rights reserved

  Cover by Lila Dubois

  Proofread by Sharon Muha (www.sharonmuha.com)

  Book formatted by Farm Boy Press

  ISBN: 978-1-941641-01-9

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  Publisher’s note:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  B is for…

  BDSM Checklist, Book Two

  There’s a new game at LA’s most exclusive BDSM club, and everyone has to play.

  Mae never imagined she’d be assigned to the most dangerous letter of alphabet… or paired with the most sinister Dominant in the club. The BDSM Checklist game doesn’t scare Xavier, but he prefers leather and steel, and the submissive he's partnered with thinks silk ribbon is bondage equipment.

  Pushed to her limits both physically and emotionally, Mae is shock to discover how much she enjoys Xavier's touch. But in the end it isn't just Mae who will be affected by the unexpected chemistry between two seeming opposites. Xavier will have to decide if he's willing to trust the lovely sub with the truth about himself, as he proves to her that there’s a darkness in her—a darkness that just might match his own.

  Table of Contents

  B is for…

  Cover

  Title Page

  Synopsis

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  A is for…

  More BDSM erotic romance by Lila Dubois

  The Trinity Masters by Lila Dubois and Mari Carr

  About the Author

  Additional Titles by Lila Dubois

  Chapter One

  Some people craved the sweet pleasure of submission. Some wanted the heady sting of pain. Some had no choice. For some, the darkness inside could only be eased with the dangerous games played here.

  Xavier tossed his bag into one of the elegant mahogany lockers in a small dressing room, anticipation making his movements hard and sharp. He needed this. For months he’d been wanting it, lying awake at night dreaming of having a woman bound at his mercy. A week ago it had gone from “want” to “need” when the darkness inside him reached critical levels. He rubbed his bare face, grimacing, then tucked a handful of leather into the front pocket of his black jeans.

  He headed for the well-stocked bar in the next room. The Dom’s Lounge, affectionately called the den, was an elegant room with wood paneling, floor to ceiling bookshelves, and robust leather furniture. It had an air of wealth and power, both of which the people who used this room possessed. One wall was all windows, taking in the view of golden hills and palm trees, rather than the verdant English countryside one might expect.

  Las Palmas was a sprawling Spanish-style estate north of Los Angeles. Its size and architectural history meant it was mentioned in various guides, but very few people could claim to have ever been inside. Las Palmas was the home of Las Palmas Oscuras—a BDSM club for the wealthy, powerful, and kinky denizens of the City of Angels.

  “Welcome back, Xavier.”

  Glass in hand, Xavier half-turned to see an elegant woman in her fifties rising from one of the leather wing-back chairs. Mistress Faith was one of the overseers of Las Palmas, and a woman he was lucky to call a friend.

  “Mistress.” Xavier used the title both as a sign of respect and affection.

  When she offered her hand, he took it and bowed stiffly over it. There were lines around her eyes that Xavier hadn’t seen last time he was here, though she looked elegant and powerful in a tailored black skirt suit. Outside the Doms’ section of the estate she wore a porcelain half-mask, both to protect her identity and hide her age. That was something Xavier understood, though at thirty-nine it was not his age he was hiding.

  “I didn’t think you’d make it for our meeting.” She patted his arm just above the leather bracers he wore on each wrist.

  “Meeting?” Apparently he’d missed something. Not a surprise, given his life outside of here.

  Mistress Faith sighed. “I suppose you haven’t read your email?”

  “I’ve only been back for—” Xavier started to reach for his phone to check the time, then remembered he didn’t carry it while here. It was a way to separate who he was to the outside world from who he was at Las Palmas. “—less than a day.”

  “Then your timing is simply excellent. We have an hour before everyone is expected in the Conclave.”

  “You mean the barn?”

  “If it has air conditioning, it’s not a barn. If it’s elegant, it’s not a barn.” Faith had helped develop Las Palmas, and had overseen the renovations.

  Xavier snorted. “It’s nicer than 99% of the world’s housing, but it has horse stalls. It’s a barn.”

  She sniffed. “You weren’t always so obstinate.”

  Xavier was tired of small talk. “What’s going on? Is there something wrong?”

  “Not at all. Have a seat; I’ll have someone bring us food.”

  “I’m fine.” He tossed back his drink and poured another, though this one was simply mineral water. It was time to go find a submissive, one of the women who would gladly accept and submit to his aggressive desires.

  “You need to eat.” She motioned to the chairs.

  “I need a sub and an empty room. Food can wait.”

  “Let’s feed your body, then we’ll feed your soul.” Faith slipped her arm through his. For a moment Xavier resisted, but when Faith tapped his arm he gave in and let her guide him to a chair. He chose his seat, mindful of his positioning and how much of his face she could see.

  Xavier set down his drink and tugged the heavy leather mask from his pocket, laying it on the side table. It seemed he wouldn’t be getting to put it on for another few minutes. If anyone else had tried to detain him, he would have shut him or her down. But Faith was one of the few people he respected enough to put aside his needs—as long as it was a short delay.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re bossy?” Xavier forced himself to relax into the chair, though his blood was humming and he was mentally preparing to enter the Las Palmas general rooms, where members mingled and those who were not bonded or owned found partners and negotiated scenes.

  “All the time, darling. All the time.”

  Mistress Fait
h used a phone that waited on a desk facing the windows to place an order. When she returned, she picked up a glass of champagne from the side table and raised it in a toast. “To new adventures.”

  Xavier swirled the liquid in his glass. “I’m not in the mood for an adventure.”

  “No. I suppose you’re not.”

  There was a wealth of understanding in her words, and Xavier kept his gaze on the windows, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes.

  “I’ll rephrase. We’re going to play a game.”

  Xavier took a long drink, now wishing it was more than water, before replying. “You and I are?”

  Mistress Faith laughed. “No, regrettably. All the members of Las Palmas Oscuras.”

  “What game?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  *****

  An hour and a half later Xavier stood, shoulder propped against the wall, as the overseers exercised their power.

  “When you joined us you completed a sex, kink, and fetish checklist. Some of you have updated it as your tastes evolved; others have only the original on file.” Master Mikael pulled a cloth covering off of a large board. Mounted on it were cards—one for each letter of the alphabet.

  The Dom standing beside Xavier snorted in apparent amusement. “This almost reminds me of school.”

  “I don’t like naughty pupil scenes,” Xavier replied.

  “I wouldn’t expect so.” The words implied a lot of things about Xavier’s tastes. Most of which were probably true.

  Xavier knew his reputation within the club, and it was deserved but surprising considering how rarely he was able to play.

  “You’re James?” he asked. He recognized the man.

  The other Dom nodded, his gaze focused on the three overseers, who were still explaining whatever it was they were up to.

  Xavier’s patience was wearing very thin, so he switched his attention to the subs and slaves who were seated or kneeling on the floor in the center of the large space. He saw a few subs he’d played with before, the kind of women who liked their pain tinged with pleasure and who had been to the darkest parts of their own souls. When he got his hands on one of them…

  Mistress Faith’s voice snapped his attention back to the overseers.

  “Of all the hundreds of delicious sexual things on that list, many of you have only tried a few. We will no longer allow that.”

  Xavier frowned, his attention now on Faith, who was scanning the Masters, Dominants, and Owners who stood near the walls or were seated in the lounge-like loft overhead. She raised a brow slightly when her gaze met Xavier’s. “Each of you has been assigned to a letter, and with it every kink and fetish in that part of the alphabet.”

  “This… could be interesting.” James’s tone was tinged with surprise. Others in the room were shifting and muttering.

  Xavier had to agree. He remembered completing the BDSM Checklist—a list of activities and implements used in BDSM play. Filling out the checklist was a good way to find partners who had the same interests, and a way to negotiate hard limits up front. He’d actually had to do it twice, each time spending hours thinking about the items before deciding what his response would be. He looked at the letter board—he could think of a few things he hadn’t had a chance to try. Hopefully he got a letter that would provide him some novelty, and could snatch up one of the subs he’d noted earlier.

  “We’ve also become complacent in our playmates.” Master Leo, the third overseer, raised his voice to be heard over the protests and comments of the Dominant members, who were starting to voice their questions. The subs and slaves were, of course, obediently silent. “Those subs who are bound to a Master will be assigned to their Master’s letter. Those of you who indicated that you are willing to share or be shared may be partnered with someone new. Possibly more than one someone.”

  They were assigning the subs? Now the Doms were grumbling in truth. Xavier shrugged mentally. They’d assign him someone who could handle what he’d do to her. They wouldn’t dare do anything else.

  Twenty minutes later he found out how horribly wrong he was.

  “Master Xavier, you have the letter B.” Mistress Faith handed him an envelope containing the name of his assigned partner and copies of both of their checklists.

  Stepping to the side, he ripped it open and pulled out an eight-by-ten glossy photo of his sub.

  “Fuck.”

  James looked up from his own envelope. “Problem?”

  Xavier held up the picture. James looked from it to Xavier and then started to laugh.

  The woman in the picture was gorgeous—soft red curls framed her classically beautiful face and soft, kissable lips. In the photo she was wearing a ruffled white corset, lace panties, and stockings printed with pink hearts, which showed off her lush figure. She was the kind of sub who liked to be cuddled and kissed, and to squirm and giggle while being spanked.

  The women Xavier played with made a lot of noises, but they didn’t giggle.

  “Mae is a lovely sub.” James clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t let her looks fool you. She’s also very smart and has a quick wit. She’s a pleasure to talk to.”

  “I’m not looking for a fucking therapist.” Xavier rubbed his cheek just under the edge of his mask.

  James shrugged. “I didn’t say she was one.”

  “Isn’t she the one who did that ribbon bondage presentation?” Occasionally members hosted demonstrations. The last time he’d been here there’d been one on “gentle bondage” and he was fairly certain this pretty redhead had been part of it.

  What the fuck was the point of gentle bondage?

  There was something about her though, a kind of magnetism and confidence that made submission powerful. A weak-willed woman who submitted wasn’t interesting. At the demo she’d been bound to an upholstered ottoman with wide red ribbon and then gently spanked. As uninteresting as he’d found the set-up, he remembered Mae because he’d stayed to watch her, if only because it was impossible to look away.

  “Just…try not to break her.” James nodded once and then headed for the door.

  Xavier examined the photo one more time. She was the perfect sub…for someone else. She was silk ribbon and champagne. He was steel cuffs and whiskey. He needed to find Mistress Faith and get a new assignment. Yet he found himself still standing there, long after the Conclave had cleared out, staring at Mae’s photo.

  Shaking his head, he shoved the photo back into the envelope, then pulled out the two checklists inside. Looking first at his own, he scanned the list of things that began with the letter B. It was a long list.

  Flipping to Mae’s checklist he read through, cursed, then scanned the “B” section again, sure he was misreading it. He wasn’t.

  *****

  Mae poured herself another glass of champagne and curled up on a delicate love seat in the lounge of the Subs’ Garden, a pretty suite of rooms reserved exclusively for the use of submissive members of Las Palmas Oscuras. It was nearly midnight and there were only a few other subs milling about. Members who hadn’t reserved play time or space for this weekend had gone home. Others were off meeting with their checklist partners, planning when they’d work through their letter. Some were ensconced in playrooms with their Owners or Masters, since the rules said that they had to complete their checklist items within the month, not that they were restricted from any play that wasn’t part of the game.

  A few hours after the announcement, Mae had ventured out to see what was happening, and who was playing with whom, in the public spaces. She watched Master Carter drip black wax onto a sub’s nipples—a fairly regular occurrence since Master Carter was a wax connoisseur—and tried to not let herself get too worked up by the woman’s moans of pleasure. A few of her favorite Doms had approached her while she watched the scene, but she’d gently replied that she wasn’t free to play, making sure her smile let them know how much she regretted her reply. It wasn’t a lie, but maybe it wasn’t the whole truth.


  In the six hours since the game had been announced, it seemed that club members all knew who their partners were, what their letter was, or at least when they were expected to be here to play. Mae knew nothing. She hadn’t been contacted, either over the loudspeaker system that allowed the Doms to make announcements in the subs-only spaces, or by paper message delivered by a few slaves who’d been tasked to play mail carrier. Envelope after envelope had arrived to the Subs’ Garden, announcement after announcement had been made, but none addressed to Mae.

  Taking a sip of champagne, Mae tugged the shoulder of her kimono-style robe up over her shoulder, covering her breast, and tried to keep her mood light. Her emotions were a mess of arousal—which was an almost Pavlovian response to being at Las Palmas, frustrated—since it didn’t seem like a scene or orgasm was coming her way any time soon, angry—that her partner hadn’t contacted her, and worried that somehow, for some reason, she hadn’t been included in the game. Mae wasn’t used to being alone. When she came to play, she never doubted that there would be Doms delighted to have her submit to them, if only to have her sitting on their laps while they drank and chatted.

  Polishing off the champagne, she decided it was time to give up hope of being contacted. She’d chosen to come here, to play and be played with, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen. She could stay the night and see what happened in the morning, using the downtime to get some work done—her phone and tablet were in her locker—but if she was going to work she might as well go home. Plus at home she had a lovely box of toys she could play with.

  Letting irritation mask feeling sorry for herself, Mae set her glass down with a snap, glad to have a plan. She was in no shape to drive home immediately, but she could change into her street clothes and get ready to go. Rising to her feet, she left the lounge for the locker room, keying in the code and taking her phone and glasses out of her designer purse. Slipping on the glasses, she started typing an email to her assistant, letting her know that, despite what was on her calendar, she would be available to take meetings and approve designs this weekend.