Read Dark Xanadu for Free Online Page B

she going to help some guy cheat on his wife.
    “No.”
    “Well, I’m not either.”
    “Anything else?”
    “Besides not being married?”
    Gerald sighed loudly, and it was all Angela could do to keep looking at the ground and avoid seeing his frown. How had she gotten here, and why had she trusted Genna? Probably because she was as easy to manipulate as Gerald was.
    “No,” Gerald told her. “Any other limits.”
    “Not that I know of.”
    Gerald snorted. “That’s right. You’re new. I’m pretty sure I could name a few other things you won’t do. Well, you’ll learn. We’re just going to have a nice simple session, and you’ll get an idea if you want more or not.”
    “That sounds very good, Sir.”
    “And our spot is open. You can get to your feet and follow me; I rather doubt you know how to crawl gracefully yet. Carry my bag.”
    She never thought she’d be made to feel inadequate for not crawling, but she almost didn’t walk to show him she could too crawl. Gracefully? She had no idea how crawling could have anything to do with grace. Maybe one swung one’s hips a lot. In any case, he was taking off, not watching how she walked or crawled, and if she wanted to keep up she needed to get a move on. She trotted after him.
    When she got there, he scowled at her. “You forgot the bag.”
    “Oh,” she said, red faced. She turned and hurried back for it. It was a big sports bag kind of thing, and not at all light. There was no way she could have carried it if she’d been crawling. She brought it back and dropped it at his feet. “There.”
    “There, Sir,” he corrected. “And eyes down. I’m going to flog you anyway, but now it’s punishment.”
    She looked down, reluctant. Punishment. She didn’t really like the sound of that. She wasn’t trying to mess up. What happened to a nice simple session to see if she liked it? Now it sounded as if she wasn’t even supposed to like it.
    He wrapped leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles, and then turned her to face the cross. He tugged on her arm, and she had to stand on her toes to reach the position he clipped her cuff in. Then he did the same to the other side, before getting her ankles. She didn’t know how long she could stay on her toes like that, but she was determined to give it her best shot. She’d run from Dark Xanadu the first time, and she’d been regretting it ever since. And the position did vaguely stir something within her, a heady mixture of anxiety and arousal.
    He pulled up her skirt and bunched it around her waist. It felt as if he tucked the hem into the waistband, too. In any case, it didn’t fall back down.
    “Hey! I said the clothes stay on!” She tried to turn her head to look at him, but since she couldn’t turn her body at all, she could only turn her head halfway and see him out of one eye.
    “Look the other way, slave. It is on. You’d never feel it if I flogged you with a light flogger though the skirt.”
    “Pull it down,” she said.
    “You never said anything about your clothes being rearranged. If you don’t pipe down and obey, I’ll pull your shirt up too.”
    The idea mortified her as she thought of all the people looking. Yes, she’d had fantasies about being exposed, but those fantasies involved someone she loved, not someone who just happened to know more about BDSM than she did. On the other hand, all the people looking meant the dungeon monitors. She remembered what Genna said. “If you don’t pull my skirt back down, now, I’m going to use the club safe word.”
    Gerald laughed. “You yell for help for no reason but because I’ve exposed your ass—which is still partly covered by those lacy panties of yours, by the way—and no one here will want to play with you ever again.”
    Angela thought about that. She was turning bright red at the thought of what she was displaying to all and sundry, but by the standards of the club she was dressed like a maiden aunt. Maybe they wouldn’t want