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  Fatal Submission

  Nicole Austin

  Claire Hanson is a submissive in need of a Dom. Finding one in rural Illinois in 1981 is no easy feat but her requirements are simple. Forget complicated limit lists, take charge and give her lots of hot, sweaty sex. On edge, body humming with arousal, Claire aches to have her desires sated. And ruggedly handsome Dominant Mason Burke is the man she wants. But for Mason work comes first and Claire’s tired of waiting.

  Mason’s loss is Dr. Carl Skinner’s lucky break. The bonus—Carl’s a rich, drop-dead gorgeous Dom with a real dungeon in his basement. Getting what you want isn’t always a good thing and the game takes a drastic turn Claire never saw coming. According to the Dungeon Master’s victims who still haunt his torture chamber, submission has fatal consequences and she’s running out of time.

  Fatal Submission

  Nicole Austin

  Dedication

  To half-baked. Keep the faith. Going through some duds means you’ll truly appreciate a good one when you find him!

  Acknowledgements

  My thanks to Brenna Zinn and Eve Savage for coming up with this great idea for a trilogy then dragging me (not quite kicking and screaming) in for the torture…er, challenge. My love for horror stories and all things that go bump in the night gave me the crazy idea that writing erotic horror should come naturally. Boy was I ever wrong. But (yes there’s always one of those) I am glad I took a risk because I love how this story turned out. Thanks for all the input and encouragement, ladies. You’re the best!

  Prologue

  April 1981

  Stripped naked and restrained to a St. Andrew’s Cross, the petite blonde begged for mercy that would not be shown. He’d worked hard to unleash her spirit and lacked compassion for any perceived suffering. Soon, as all the others had, she would understand.

  With the sound of her screams reverberating in his head, he stood back to appreciate the results of his labor. Angry red welts, placed with forethought and care, crisscrossed the pale skin of her back, ass and thighs. She trembled, pulling futilely at thick leather cuffs as he moved around the wooden cross and into her line of view.

  Rivers of tears turned black from excessive eye makeup combined with streams of mucus to leave dark streaks over blotchy cheeks. Dried blood stained her swollen lower lip where sharp teeth had bitten through tender flesh. The flush of reluctant arousal tinted her skin pink and her eyes were dilated, only a thin ring of blue surrounding the large black pupils.

  “Beautiful.”

  With his help, she’d surpassed society’s ridiculous standards of beauty to become a true work of art. He set aside the whip and took a moment to gather his keepsakes, which would make a splendid addition to his treasure trove, the subjects of his collection now reaching double digits.

  “You struggle so hard to resist the inevitable. Even now the heat of the lash spreads fluidly through your flesh to gather in your pelvis.” Turning the screw on the nipple tree, he increased the tug on the tender buds, carefully watching her response—the undeniable sharpening of arousal.

  “P-please…let me go. I won’t t-tell anyone. I won’t call the police.”

  He sighed heavily. Without fail, they never recognized his genius, instead believing him stupid. This one wouldn’t know superior intelligence if it bit her in the ass.

  Time for the final lesson in submission.

  Turning to his worktable, he picked up his favorite tool. A full twelve inches long, double-edged, one side a sinuous curve, the other wickedly spiked serrations. The penultimate phallic symbol, capable of deep penetration, delivering the most exquisitely pleasurable pain.

  His dick got hard as his fist closed around the handle, customized to fit him as if it were a natural extension of his hand. The knife felt good in his grasp. Right.

  “A good sub is in control of her body at all times.” The Dominant in him rose to the challenge she presented. “You will not orgasm until given permission.” After a pregnant pause he demanded, “Understand?”

  He turned to find her mouth lax, hanging open, gaping at him in disbelief. Arching his brow in inquiry, he awaited her response.

  She closed her mouth, her lips compressing to a thin line. Her mouth opened again before snapping shut with an audible click.

  So naïve. She most likely considered BDSM to be a fun bit of kink, not comprehending the realities of a genuine D/s exchange. Shame there wasn’t enough time to teach her what true submission meant. Nothing gave him a greater sense of his power than blurring the line between pleasure and pain to the point a sub reached orgasm and could no longer separate the two.

  He dragged the edge of his blade along the vulnerable column of her throat, delighting in the quiver she could not control or hide from him.

  “Do not come,” he reminded her. “Doing so will bring a premature end to our session and we wouldn’t want that.”

  He worked her body with skillful determination, pushing her boundaries, expanding her horizons. In the end, she failed to heed his warning, her fragile flesh succumbing to his mastery, rushing into orgasm with a scream of agonized bliss.

  Irritation left a bitter taste in his mouth. He’d had such high hopes that she’d last longer, make it good for him instead of leaving him frustrated and longing for more.

  So very weak, she defied his command, orgasming without permission. Earning her punishment.

  With a shake of his head, he penetrated the pulsing arteries in her neck, breathing the metallic scent of her blood deep into his lungs, taking her inside himself. The more she fought against her bonds, the faster the blood flowed over her pale skin, painting her body with the last vestiges of her existence on this plane. Preceding her transition to the next.

  Her movements slowed, finally ceasing altogether as the spark vacated her blue eyes. He drank in the beauty of his work, pleased to have fulfilled her destiny, allowing her to take her place among his treasured submissives, binding them together for eternity.

  Chapter One

  June 1981

  “Did you complete your checklist?”

  Claire Hanson pulled the folded papers from her purse and passed them across the table as she cast a furtive glance around the quaint cafe. Since it was after the lunch rush and before dinnertime the place remained empty other than employees working in the kitchen. Knowing the Dom seated across from her and his meticulous attention to details, he’d certainly considered this when setting up their date.

  Leaning back in the chair, she studied Mason Burke as his big hands smoothed the papers his laser-sharp gaze focused on. Power and command radiated from the broad-shouldered hunk. Knowing he’d been a Marine didn’t require being told or psychic abilities, only a glance in his direction shouted the fact. From the top of his stubbly shaved head to the solid toe of his heavy black boots and the mass of muscles in between, every fiber of his being revealed a rigid military bearing. The proof lay in his actions, each and every one carefully considered, planned to the smallest detail and carried out with precision.

  A shiver of anticipation raced along Claire’s spine with the idea of having such intense focus on her during sex. She glanced at his large hands again. They weren’t just big, his fingers were long and thick, making her wonder if the rest of him would be as impressive. She’d never been with such a tall, muscular guy before and prayed all his parts measured up.

  Mason scanned the pages and lifted his gaze to hers. “Not many check marks in the yes column.” He returned his attention to scrutinizing the list she’d spent all morning sweating over.

  Claire didn’t understand why he had to make something as simple as sex so damn complicated. Her desires were straightforward. No pain, disfigurement or exhibitionism. Lots of sweating, grunting and the ma
n taking charge of sex instead of expecting her to tell him what to do. If a man didn’t know, she sure had no intention of being his teacher in bed.

  But no, Mason’s comprehensive checklist covered more than three hundred sexual acts and implements with nine options for stating preferences along with a wide column for providing details. She’d had to answer yes, no or maybe, then specify whether a no was a soft or hard limit and if she had tried it at least once. The whole thing was rather anal retentive. Still, his list had forced her to spend time truly contemplating what turned her on or left her cold and why. And filling it out had put Claire in a perpetually horny state.

  To her utter shock and mortification, Mason pulled a pen out of his pocket and began scribbling notes in the margin. She couldn’t imagine why he’d need to make notes but then that was Mason, thorough to the core.

  He looked up to scowl at her for a moment before returning to the pages. She had to fight the urge to scowl back or worse yet, stick her tongue out at him. Making faces at a Dom was a big no-no.

  She’d first laid eyes on him a few weeks ago at an invitation-only munch—a party for those with an interest in the taboo world of BDSM to meet and mingle in a safe environment. Everyone she’d asked about him had praised Mason’s skill as a masterful Dominant. Now if only he’d get the lead out and start dominating her in bed.

  Claire had grown tired of waiting. It had taken long, frustrating years to figure out what she needed from men and relationships. Ever since she had, the ache to have her needs and desires sated kept her on edge and her body humming with arousal. An arousal that just being near Mason intensified to a whole new level of torture. An all-consuming arousal none of the Doms she’d experimented with had been able to satisfy.

  She took a deep breath, drawing in the light, fresh scent of Mason’s cologne—the classic woodsy, spicy aroma of Givenchy. Added to his own distinct masculine fragrance, it created one heck of a heady concoction that had her wanting to nuzzle his neck and breathe him in.

  Huffing out a sigh, she directed the breath toward her bangs, blowing the hair from her eyes and once again making a mental note to get it trimmed. She’d been meaning to get it done for the past two weeks but the chore kept slipping her mind.

  Mason peered over top of the pages. The man missed nothing and made her see things about herself she’d rather not know.

  He was the epitome of calm competence and efficiency. Claire, on the other hand, was his complete opposite. She’d been fired from her job at the real estate office because of her disorganization. So what if she was a bit scatterbrained, she still managed to get the job done, even when the paperwork to prove it temporarily escaped her grasp. She’d really liked that job.

  “Claire.”

  Her name, spoken in that deep voice yet uttered soft as a gentle breeze, pulled Claire from her mental field trip to notice the steady click of her fingernails drumming on the tabletop.

  Oops. Curling her fingers into a fist, she dropped her hands into her lap, kept her gaze lowered and mumbled an apology.

  She felt his stare linger for a few moments before returning to the cursed list. Once again she allowed her undisciplined mind to wander. As she had since first unfolding the pages, Claire imagined submitting to Mason’s ironclad control. She found the concept both frightening and exciting. To be able to let go, not worry about anything but pleasure… God, how she wanted—needed—such total freedom in bed.

  Entries from the blasted list flashed through her mind. Butt plugs, anal sex, triple penetration. She’d checked the no box for all three, marking anal sex as a hard limit even though the idea haunted her mind. Her pussy and ass clenched at the mere thought of a warm, thick cock stretching her tiny sphincter and going where no man had gone before. She’d put a question mark in the final column for triple penetration since she had no idea if this referred to the use of multiple toys or multiple partners. The toys she could handle but she wasn’t into more than one man fucking her at a time.

  Electrical play had stayed on her mind since she’d first read those two words. Electricity wasn’t something to be played with. And what did it entail, applying an electrical current to sensitive body parts? Like on her nipples? The skin of her areolas tightened and her nipples started to throb. Her entire body quivered, muscles contracting involuntarily as if touched by electricity, and a flood of moisture dampened her panties.

  Her conflicted responses of fear and titillation confused Claire. She’d marked electrical play as a hard no but had considered putting a question mark. The list had made her realize how little she knew about BDSM and kinky sex. Stupid checklist, she just wanted to get to the sex part already. Her instincts screamed that sex with Mason would be incredible.

  She shot a surreptitious glance at him from beneath her lashes, only to find his dazzling blue stare on her instead of the papers that now lay in a neat stack on the table beneath his folded hands.

  Crap!

  “Tell me what you’re thinking about. Don’t stop to analyze what you want to say or how, just say it.”

  Her lips parted but words refused to form. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to know what she’d been thinking.

  “Right now, Claire. Show me you can submit and follow my command. Close your eyes.”

  He didn’t speak again, waiting for her to comply. She felt relieved by shutting out his contemplative stare but bothered by not being able to gauge his reactions. He was testing her, she knew it, and Claire intended to pass.

  She let her mind wander to her previous thoughts and gave them voice. At first the words sounded tentative and unsure. As she continued to speak, her curiosity took over and her voice became laced with excitement. She felt a sense of freedom by speaking without having to look into Mason’s eyes.

  “There are things…on the list… I’ve never heard of them. I was imagining what electrical play entails. Electricity is dangerous, not something to be played with. And how on earth could electricity be involved with sex?”

  She shivered, took a deep breath to bolster her courage and forged ahead. “I remember going to the science center in high school and being amazed by the plasma globe. It’s a glass ball with an electrical thingy inside.” Claire figured the science behind it didn’t matter and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “When you touch the glass purple arcs of electricity surge toward your hand but it doesn’t hurt. It’s kind of tingly and makes the hairs on your arm stand on end. I started wondering if that sensation applied to sensitive body parts would be pleasurable. Would it stimulate the skin and nerves?”

  Claire risked a quick peek at Mason. Her heart froze, stuttered then thrummed against her breast as she took in the wide grin revealing straight white teeth and lighting up his whole face. Pleasure and desire flashed in his eyes, and instead of appearing hard and formidable, the blue orbs twinkled. The genuine smile and happiness transformed Mason from merely handsome into the most stunning man she’d ever seen.

  With the realization that she’d passed his test with flying colors, a surge of pride filled her. She also discovered a startling effect she hadn’t experienced with the handful of Dominant men she’d known. Pleasing Mason in turn pleased her.

  Wow!

  Mason’s expression turned pensive and he tapped the papers. “So why did you mark electrical play as a hard limit, Claire?”

  “Umm…” Why had she made it a no instead of putting the question mark? Because it was some scary shit she’d never heard of before. But she didn’t want to say that to Mason. He’d think she was too naïve and wouldn’t want her anymore.

  Mason nodded as if he understood something she’d yet to realize. He reached into the briefcase sitting on the chair next to him, extracted another set of papers and slid them across the table. Claire glanced down to see a blank checklist.

  “I want you to start again.”

  She started to sputter but Mason raised his hand and cut off her protests with a stern look.

  “This time, I want you to put more tho
ught into each response. Instead of simply marking things you don’t understand as a hard limit, use the last column to tell me you need clarification. There is no shame in not being a jaded, experienced submissive, Claire. I find it refreshing and the idea of being the first to explore these things with you exhilarating.”

  So what was with the damn delay? “Then let’s get started already. Forget the stupid list.”

  Mason leaned in closer, his hard and steady gaze never leaving hers. “Rushing into a BDSM relationship without taking time to learn about a submissive is a good way to cause her irreversible harm. I’m not prepared to take that risk, Claire, and neither should you. We will be patient and do this right or not at all.”

  He sat back in his chair, his resolute stare unnerving her. She shifted in her seat.

  “The decision is yours, Claire.” He glanced at the papers briefly. “You can throw those in the trash and find a Dominant who will give you what you want. There are plenty of Doms out there who would be willing to rush headfirst into playing. You’ve had that already and yet here you are, looking for something else. Something deeper. Either that or I’ve completely misread you.”

  No, he got her in ways no one else did. She longed for a deeper connection with a Dominant. Exploring the surface of D/s had been fun but failed to satisfy her hunger. She sensed the amazing depths of trust and bonding that could form in a true BDSM relationship and ached to have a man know her on such an intense level. To know herself that deeply. Yes, she was anxious to play, to feel Mason’s hands on her body, but she wanted more. She wanted it all.

  Mason sighed and reached for the new checklist. Claire moved faster, her hands shooting forward to grab the papers before he could take them away. She clutched the pages to her chest.

  “No. You’re right. I want that. I want to go deeper…with you.” She spoke fast, anguished by the thought of Mason turning her away, leaving her wanting. “I’ll give the list more thought and fill it out again. Please give me another chance.”