Unmeasured (Unmatched Book 1) Read online

  “She doesn’t need to hear about it, she can look.” Maurice said, taking her by the hand and not the leash. He picked up the coat as well and draped it over her shoulders before walking with her to the table. “By the way, if you ever disrespected one of my creations by leaving it on the floor, I would flog you myself.” He brought her to the table and gestured at the papers. “I hope you feel the same way about your own designs.”

  Samantha could not quite understand what she was looking at. Mechanical drawings with intricate handwritten notes littered the table. She gave him a quizzical look.

  “They are patterns, sweetie. Patterns for your corsets.” He opened a leather-bound journal and presented a spreadsheet neatly punched and placed into the three rings. “These, chérie, are your orders, if you’d like to fulfill them.”

  “Orders?” She had almost forgotten how to speak, she was so excited.

  “Yes, from every Domme I showed your designs to.” He pulled an image up on his iPad, and then another. He’d made her doodles real, and the models who wore them looked good enough to eat. Even Samantha thought so. “And a few orders from a Master or two for their subs. I took pictures of your entire book and cut patterns right away. You possess a unique creative perspective and my dear, I am not easily impressed. But you must learn some of the mechanics. I tore my hair out on a few of these trying to defy the laws of physics. You will enroll in some courses at the Fashion Institute, yes? I only have so much hair, and exactly zero patience to teach you myself.”

  “You think my stuff is that good?”

  He pointed to the ledger. “I’m not the only one.” He smiled and waved at Oleg. “Did you bring the contract?”

  Oleg pulled a folded envelope from his breast pocket. “Do you want to be partners with Maurice?”

  “Ab-so-fucking-lutely!”

  “Now that I see the two you have stopped pretending he isn’t your Dom, I will politely ask to kiss your hand.”

  Oleg nodded his approval, and Maurice took her hand with uncharacteristic reverence. “It’s an honor to sew for you.”

  “Thank you, Maurice. I’m honored to have your magical touch bring my designs to life. When I’m in a better position to talk about the details, I’ll come to your studio.”

  Henri stepped forward. “I told you your designs were good.”

  “You were going to ruin one of them! Cut it to shreds!” Samantha quipped. “Don’t think I didn’t see the knife.”

  Maurice gasped. “What? I cannot be hearing this correctly. You wouldn’t have.”

  “It’s perfectly intact. Now, I would much rather see you in a ruined heap on the floor.”

  Samantha cast her chin over her shoulder in his direction. “Henri, you say the sweetest things.”

  “There won’t be anything sweet about what I’m going to watch him do to you.”

  Samantha turned her gaze toward Oleg. “He’s just going to watch?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. It depends on how well you take your punishment, which, with all due respect, Maurice, has been delayed long enough. Tomorrow, I’ll deliver her back to you completely capable to start to negotiate a contract on your new venture.

  “Oui, d’accord,” Maurice said with his hands up. “I’m out of your hair.”

  Samantha watched with a mix of disappointment and elation as he gathered up the smattering of papers. She wanted to look at them some more. “Thank you, Maurice,” she said when he was finished.

  With his plans rolled up under his arm, he lowered himself to one knee and bowed his head. “No mademoiselle, thank you.”

  Something settled on her shoulder, something warm and heavy and right. “You’ve just earned the respect of Paris’s most cynical submissives,” Oleg said to her. “Touch his head and dismiss him now.”

  Her fingers trembled as her blood raced. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Maurice.”

  “Do it without your voice wavering, Lionceau.”

  She cleared her throat. “Tomorrow, we will speak more about this. Now go on.”

  Maurice unfolded his tall, elegant frame and stood, smiling down at her. He bowed his head and spun a graceful turn on his toe, placing him on the path to the rear door that led up to his studio and the other apartments.

  Samantha turned to Oleg, who looked wholly pleased. She flushed a little in the warmth of his gaze. Henri’s finely formed eyebrows knitted together in a brewing scowl, softened only by the arch of a curious eyebrow. “What was that?””

  “That was the lioness learning how to roar,” Oleg said and took her hand.

  Henri shook his head with mirth. “More like a mewl, but okay.”

  Oleg turned to Samantha. “Yes, I think it’s about time for your punishment.”

  Oleg tugged softly on the collar of her coat, and instantly, Samantha let it slip from her body. Only this time, she didn’t let it fall to the floor. She draped it over her wrists and held it out in front of her to Henri.

  “Pardon?” he said, though Samantha had not uttered a word.

  She knelt, tucked her chin to her chest and raised the coat higher. Henri shook his head and took the coat from her. “There is a limit to my graciousness.” He crouched down in front of her and flicked his tongue against her top lip. “But you don’t give a shit about limits, do you, pretty girl?”

  Samantha raised her gaze to him and shook her head.

  “I want to turn your back into a collection of long red ribbons. How does that sound?”

  Samantha swallowed the sudden wetness in her mouth.

  “The proper response to that is ‘Yes, Master.’”

  Samantha began to speak and didn’t even quite get the first syllable into the air before Oleg stopped her with a firm tug of her leash. “No, brother. She only has one Master now.”

  Henri smiled a coy and knowing grin. “Ah, is that so? I might be the best matchmaker on the planet.” He pinched the first few buttons loose on his shirt. “You can call me Doctor then.”

  “Not yet. There is the matter of her punishment.”

  Samantha snapped her gaze to him. “What punishment? What did I do wrong?”

  “You ran from me.” His tone cooled the room. “And I didn’t like it.”

  Samantha reached out instinctively to him, resting her palm on his chest. “Because of Karina. I ran because I couldn’t see myself standing on the outside of your marriage when all I want is to find a way to get closer to you.”

  “I know, Kitten.” He stroked her hand a few times before taking hold of her wrist and placing her hand back at her side. “But you tortured me, and not in a good way. You wouldn’t answer your phone. I nearly lost my mind wondering how long it would take to catch up to you. I can’t understand how you taught me how to beg, but I begged God to put you on that train platform today.” He gathered her hair into both fists and tugged. “I didn’t like it.”

  “I’m sorry, Master.”

  He smiled softly, and she felt a ray of sun on her face. The kisses he placed on her eyelids and then her cheeks were like flower petals aflutter in the wind. Then her lips were nibbled and nuzzled with the gentility of the most noble of sinners. “I didn’t like it.” He repeated and stepped back. “Henri, help me with her cage.”

  He watched her eyes grow wide.

  “Cage?” she asked with an adorable flutter in her voice. Uncertainty curled around the word, and her lips pursed and flirted with both a pout and a smile. He could lose an hour easily watching her decide between the two. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so enthralled by such simplicity.

  He waved a finger. “You didn’t notice it hanging over the bar when you were here?”

  “I thought it was decoration.”

  “Silly Kitten,” he tapped her nose. “I’ll have one custom made for you soon. I’m thinking Lucite, soundproof but transparent, with a white leather hood and an air hose. Complete sensory deprivation, so that you will feel both isolated and exposed at the same time.” He grinned. “Ah, Lionceau, look at
you trying to make sense of that.” He watched her cheeks flush and took immense pleasure in it. “But we will need much more time together before I edge you that hard.”

  A demure smile passed her lips. “Yes, Master.”

  Henri took a slow breath. “I really need to see that.”

  Oleg walked over to the bar. He pulled a lever attached to a support column, and the shiny brass cage inched lower to the ground.

  “Come, Kitten.” She stood in place, a glassy haze of panic washing over her pale-blue eyes. Oleg had expected as much. “This doesn’t frighten you does it?”

  “Nothing frightens me, remember.”

  “But you’re anxious.” He pulled her close to him, pressing her disarmingly delicate frame against him and musing over just how perfect she molded against him. “I already know those tiny little dimples in your cheek appear only when something isn’t settled right for you. I like making them appear.” He pressed his lips to her hair and breathed her in. “I like making them disappear even more.”

  Samantha understood dreading something she didn’t want to do. She understood losing something she didn’t want to be without. For Samantha, anxiety and fear were two very different things. That cage represented isolation, and it made her skin prickle.

  She spoke into his chest, her lips moving against his heart. “I don’t want to go in there.”

  “You have your safeword, Kitten, and I want you to use it.” Oleg nuzzled her neck. “But even though I understand why, and even though you are here with me now, you ran from me, and it was torture. I have to punish you for that. Darkness before the light, remember?”

  He pulled her back so he could see those sweet little dimples.

  “You’re going to hate it,” he said. “And you’re going to love it.”

  “How am I going to love it if I hate it?”

  Oleg ran his tongue over the shell of her ear. “Blurry lines, Kitten.”

  *

  In spite of herself, a warm, silky stream poured forth from a place that said he was right.

  “In,” he said.

  “Yes, Master.” Samantha stepped into the polished cage with the pink faux-fur pillow covering the entire floor.

  “There’s a little box in the corner. Take out what’s inside.”

  She removed the three items. The blindfold was easy enough to decipher. The other two items were a bit confusing.

  “Put this around your neck. It’s a mic. The ear piece is for me, so that I can hear you from another room.”

  “You’re leaving me here like this?”

  “No.” He smirked. “Not here. And not like this.” He paused, not saying anything, measuring her non-verbal responses. Perhaps he was a better translator of her body language than she was. “Put your head to the pillow,” he instructed. “Ass high in the air.”

  She did as she was told, placing her hands on either side of her head. Oleg removed a long, red leather box from a shelf under the bar and placed it on the ebony surface right where she would be able to see it. He lifted the lid and removed an assortment of velvet-lined leather straps. Each had a large shiny buckle and snap clasp. He handed a few to Henri, and they circled the cage like sharks. Her wrists and ankles were sheathed, clasped, and then attached to four of the many U bolts that lined the cage. They made a scallop pattern that she’d foolishly thought was decorative as well. The next strap was long and slender with rings stitched at regimented intervals. Oleg placed it over her forearms and threaded the ends through U bolts on either side of the cage. The snap clasps at either end were then attached to the rings, strapping her arms flush with the pillow and making it impossible to lift up. Lastly, he pulled what was essentially a wide belt with clasps at each end and slipped it under her. Once clipped to the bars at the top of the cage, it reminded her of the cinch that holds a horse’s saddle in place.

  “This will make sure you don’t lose your position if your legs give out.”

  That sounded quite interesting to Samantha. “What could make that happen?”

  He removed a few toys and placed them on the bar. Her eyes grew wider with the sight of the dildos, all of them more elaborate than the last. When he found what he was looking for, his expression grew darker. “This. It’s going to go into that very sweet pussy of yours and open you up like you have never been before.”

  “How do you know what I’ve done before?”

  Henri ran a finger over her back, starting from the nape of her neck and sloping down her spine. He took the rise of her ass like a bicycle climbing a steep hill, slow, steady, methodical. “You can tell us if we’ve missed the mark, chérie.” His finger swung over the rim of her ass and fell past her puckering hole and right into her slippery channel. Then another finger joined the first for two fleeting short strokes. And then they were gone.

  Oleg held up the perforated cone-shaped device. He placed it in what seemed to be a condom that attached to the device with a shiny silver clamp. Then he removed one last component from the box. It was a long, thin hose that screwed into the base of the device.

  A hundred questions crowded behind her lips, but she settled for just one. “Why the condom?”

  “It’s not a condom. This is a dilator. Just because you’re being punished, doesn’t mean we can’t be efficient with our time. I want you to be ready when I come for you.” He handed the end of the hose to Henri, who coupled it to a rectangular black box.

  “How wet was she?” Oleg asked Henri.

  “So wet, brother.”

  She could see neither of them from her position. Still, new slickness gathered in Samantha’s cunt at the slight hitch in Henri’s breath.

  “Taste her.” Oleg’s voice raked over her skin, harsh like sandpaper. Henri’s mouth was on her in an instant, lapping at her upturned pussy with a kind of hunger that betrayed his tendency to afford only mild interest for anything. If she could have pressed herself into his face, she would have, but the restraints allowed her nothing. She was a vessel, pouring freely onto his tongue, and nothing more.

  Hot breath against her ass was the only warning before Oleg pressed his teeth into her flesh and bit. Then cool air wafted against her wetness as Henri pulled away. She was in mourning for the loss only a second before Oleg pressed his entire face into her spread ass. Then he curled his tongue around her clit, cradling it for a few sputtering heartbeats and rocked it from side to side, just enough to pull a whimper from her lips. A million taste buds caressed over her folds, warm, wet texture ignited every single nerve ending as he dragged into her channel once and then again. The much-coveted next pass did not come.

  She listened to the sound of hearty swallows and their low voices exchanging a few words that she couldn’t decipher. She’d hardly stopped panting when he pushed the device inside of her.

  Oleg pressed a button on the black box and then tapped his phone. A blue indicator light began to flash, and he set it down at the back of the cage. “This is a compressor. It will inflate the latex and cause the dilator to increase in diameter. I’ve linked it to my phone.” He pressed his thumb to the screen and held it. The device grew a measure more full against her inner walls. Then it began to vibrate at a low and derisive setting.

  Samantha wondered if her punishment was to be forced to settle for a vibrator after they showed her how unbelievably skilled their tongues were at making her eyes water. If that was the worst of it, she would get off easily. But then a dark blanket of satin fluttered and fell over the cage. The zip of a zipper secured it in place. Beneath, the unmistakable hum of mechanics sounded and trap doors set into the floor separated. She was suddenly in the dark and suspended in mid-air where the floor had been only moments ago. Oleg’s voice was soft but firm through the fabric. “You won’t be seen, you won’t be spoken to, and after you acknowledge me now, you won’t make a sound unless it’s your safeword. Understand?”

  Suddenly, she did understand. “Yes, Master.”

  With another hum of mechanics, she was lowered down into the
subterranean depths of the club.

  Chapter 31

  Paolo entered the bar with the painting of Samantha. He signaled to Ivan, who hopped off the stool to help him hang it on the wall next to the stage. “Guests will begin to arrive soon. Everyone should be pretty surprised to see that you have claimed our latest protégé for yourself.”

  “Just as I predicted,” Henri said and waved his finger to the left. Paolo tapped the painting until Henri nodded that it was straight.

  “Only a woman who no Dom could resist is good enough for you, brother.” Ivan swiped his waiting glass from the bar and raised it to him.

  “And because I can, I’m the only one who can be her Master.”

  “Okay. I hear a list of rules coming. Just give them to us,” Henri grumbled.

  “You don’t punish her. That is for me alone.”

  Paolo nodded. “Sure, as her Master, only you have the right to do that.”

  Oleg continued, “If you want to play, you will play by her rules. If you feel that she’s topping you, give her leeway to explore.”

  “I’m not a switch,” Henri said, turning from the painting with a stabbing glare.

  Oleg smiled. “But don’t you see? She is. And I’m not just sharing her. I’m indulging her.”

  Henri tipped his head and nodded just once. “Yes. That is quite apparent.”

  “All I’m saying is to let her take you to the edge, because I guarantee that you have not seen the depths of your desire until you follow her to the bottom. She likes to be desired, and I like to see her happy.” He looked at each of them in the eye. “If you can’t play by these rules, you can’t have any part of her.”

  Paolo chewed on a thought before opening his mouth to speak. “I told her that Doms were selfish. Maybe I was wrong, at least in your case.”

  “At least in her case,” Oleg corrected. He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the app connected to the infrared camera discreetly tucked into the corner of Samantha’s cage. He zoomed in on her expression, just the right balance of torture and bliss. “Look at how good she is at this game. If I left her there all night, I don’t think she’d ever safe out. But unlike an ordinary sub, her obedience is not for me. She obeys because she wants to beat me at my own game. She obeys because she wants to see if she can. I want to see if she can. Every minute of her obedience is an act of dominance.”