Her attempt at a smile failed badly. “Nah. I’m just tired.”

“Bullshit,” Vance said from where he was sprawled on the sectional. He picked up the remote and turned the TV off.

On the other end of the couch, in his recliner, Galen noted the game had only been in the third quarter. The little sub had better watch out.

After a nervous glance at the blank television screen, she amended, “Some…acquaintances…are upset because they lost some…money. And I hate reading profanity. But it’s not anything you can fix—or that I can share.” Her chin lifted, and she gave them a spirited glare. “Okay, Sirs?”

Galen’s lips twitched, and he worked to suppress his smile. He sat his recliner up, tossed a heavy couch cushion on the floor at his feet, and pointed to it.

Her hands formed little fists—and he had an appealing vision of how her hands would feel on his shoulders…or dick—then she obeyed.

He watched closely as she went to her knees. Moving better. No tightness around her mouth indicating pain. She was clever and used a hand on the coffee table to balance as she kept her weight off her braced ankle. And the cushion was high enough that her ankle didn’t have to bend. Good.

Galen tipped his chin at Vance. They needed to set some ground rules, and Vance would start out more gently.

Vance accepted the handoff. “We haven’t spoken about your place in the household, have we?”

She blinked, as if he’d sidestepped her anticipated argument. “Um. Right. I’d like a bit of clarity on what’s expected. Maybe even some negotiation.” A trace of sarcasm had crept into her tone.

Appreciation flashed in his partner’s eyes. The last submissive they’d brought home had been sweet but not too bright, and she’d missed a lot of subtext. He and Vance preferred the smart ones, even if they were more trouble.

From comments at the Shadowlands and her documented history and his own observations, he was beginning to realize the imp was very, very intelligent.

“We can do discussion,” Vance said agreeably. “Normally, we don’t get into full-time D/s relationships. We have no interest in picking a sub’s clothing—except for scenes. For example, I’m rather partial to French maid costumes, especially ones with short skirts. And no underwear.”

Sally’s color heightened.

Be interesting to arouse her verbally and keep her on edge all evening. But not now. Galen sighed. “Focus, Buchanan.”

Vance tossed him a grin before returning his attention to his instruction. “So. We don’t need a maid or cook. If you pull your own weight in the house, that’s enough.” Vance pushed the coffee table farther away, angled himself to face Sally, and rested his forearms on his thighs. “However, you requested our assistance for a task that can’t be limited to an occasional scene. Am I right?”

Her huff of breath was audible. “Yes, Sir.”

“This is how it will work. If we ask you a question in casual conversation, we expect an honest, forthright response. If you can’t provide one, we’ll drop into a D/s dynamic until we get the answer.”

She actually paled.

“However, that D/s dynamic isn’t limited to the times we catch you being evasive, pet,” Galen qualified. “That’s up to us.”

“You’re such a fucking lawyer,” Vance muttered, then returned to her. “What he said. Any problems with the plan so far?”

She shook her head.

“Answer aloud, please,” Galen said softly. His partner didn’t particularly care, but Galen enjoyed hearing changes in a submissive’s tone and word choices.

Such as now, as Sally murmured, “No problems, Sir.” The sarcasm had disappeared; her sharp edges had disappeared. From her expression and posture, he could see her sliding into a submissive mind-set, but by God, he really enjoyed hearing it as well.

“Good. Next, we do like sexually oriented play,” Vance said.

As she stiffened slightly, Galen added, “Sally, if you’re uncomfortable with that, you can still live here. We’ll work with you without sex involved…but we need to know.”

Vance nodded. “You seemed to enjoy sexual scenes at the club. But things change. We won’t be upset with either choice, but you have to be the one to choose, sweetheart. Sex or no sex.”

Her gaze dropped to her hands, and Galen’s respect for her grew when she looked at them directly and said, “Sex.” She didn’t pretend to be pushed into the answer, didn’t deny the sexual tension among the three of them.

“Well, I can’t say that I’m not pleased,” Vance said lightly. “Are you on the pill?”

“Yes.”

A shame to have to deal with ugly topics, but better that it was done.

“While you’re here, you’ll be our only partner, and we expect the same from you. And we prefer no barriers during sex,” Vance said. “Galen and I have no diseases, and as members of the Shadowlands, we’re all tested often, but let’s swing by the doc tomorrow and get us all checked again.”

She nodded. “Frank had…loose ideas about monogamy, so we never had unprotected sex.” Her lifted chin showed that insisting upon that had, perhaps, been an adversarial position. Good for her. “I’m clean, but I think the extra testing is wise. Thank you.”

“Next, your limits list was filled out for a club venue. But we won’t be playing in a public venue most of the time. Would you like to restrict—or add—anything to that list?”

She thought for a second and shook her head. Then with a glance at Galen, she spoke her answer. “No, Sir.”

There it was. Her resistance was disappearing. Sir could be said in many ways, but when it slipped out easily, without thought, the title was one of the most beautiful words in the English language. Coming from this little imp made it all the more special.

“Thank you, Sally,” he said, showing he recognized her surrender. And prized it.

She tried to shrug it off, but the sweet pinkness of her cheeks said she valued his approval.

And they all knew she’d fight them now and then—especially since they would push her into uncomfortable mental places to break down her barriers. Speaking of which… “We don’t know why you have a problem, and we’re going to work on helping you overcome it, but you might try counseling instead or in association with this. If finances are a problem, we can help.”

She gave him a surprised look. “Um.” Her expression changed as she considered his suggestion. Her thinking mode was interesting to watch—as if she heard music that played only for her.

After a minute, she shook her head. “I’d like to work with just you guys for now, but I’ll tell you if I think it’s too stressful or if I change my mind.”

“Good enough,” Vance said. “For sleeping arrangements, the guest room—your room—has the biggest bed. Simply close the door if you don’t want company at night.”

Vance’s nod at Galen handed back the reins.

“Take your shirt off, pet,” Galen said.

Her eyes rounded. But she obeyed. After pulling her pink T-shirt over her head, she hesitated with her hands on her lacy bra.

Galen nodded.

The bra followed. She really did have pretty breasts. Ample and high with pink-brown nipples. Her stomach was rounded and just the right softness for enjoyable nipping.

She laid her clothes neatly on the coffee table. “Sirs,” she said quietly. “Do you prefer any type of address?”

“As long as you’re polite, we’re not fussy,” Vance said.

“Stand up and remove the rest, please,” Galen said softly. He leaned forward and offered his hands to help steady her.

Her hands were cool, her grip strong as she let him help her to her feet. He tossed the cushion back on the couch.

As she started to unbuckle her silver belt, a flush started at her breasts and flowed upward.

“Stop.” Vance smiled as she paused. “You’re blushing, sweetheart. Why?”

Her mouth fell open as if to say you’re questioning me…now? “Um. This is embarrassing. That’s why.”

“Really?” With his elbow on the recliner arm, Galen rested his chin on his palm. “I’ve seen you strip in the Shadowlands without blushing.”

Her color deepened.


SERIOUSLY? SALLY FELT almost…outraged. She was ready to have sex. They liked her body. Wanted her. She knew it. But to stop and question her about her feelings. Again? When Vance’s gaze lingered on her clenched hands, she forced them open.

Okay, they were just doing what she’d wanted. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of that? And why in heaven’s name was she embarrassed anyway? “I’m just—”

Her voice trailed off at the serious expression on Vance’s face. He hated her evasions. She bit her lip and tried to think. He was right; she didn’t mind being naked at the Shadowlands. Then again, the Masters didn’t try to make her feel—vulnerable—and the younger Doms couldn’t.

“You make me feel…exposed. More than naked.”

“Keep stripping.” Galen studied her as she pushed her jeans off. “We want you to feel exposed. Inside and out.”

As her nipples contracted into tight peaks, Vance’s gaze dropped there. “You have pretty breasts, Sally, and I like breasts.”

A bit of the nervous fluttering in her stomach eased. At least until Galen said, “Present yourself, please. Standing. Wrists crossed behind your lower back. And let me know if you find anything uncomfortable or if your ankle starts to hurt.”

Her legs started shaking as she widened her stance, straightened her posture, and put her arms behind her back.

“If you arch your back more, you’ll please Vance,” Galen suggested.

Even as her back arched, she recognized the manipulative technique. He was pushing her into pleasing them.