Page 16 of Claiming Hannah


Font Size:  

Lucia’s tan skin was crisscrossed with dark red welts that had to hurt like hell. Hannah shuddered in sympathy, though she was aware her sympathy was perhaps misplaced. Lucia was there because she wanted to be. She was clearly deeply masochistic and thrived under her Master’s harsh lash.

Would Hannah ever have the nerve to receive an actual whipping or caning?

Lucia sighed softly as Anthony smoothed the ointment over her skin. When he was done, he said, “You two go relax. I need to have a quick word with Lawrence, and then I’ll be along shortly with a snack.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucia said softly. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Yes, thank you,” Hannah echoed.

The scene had taken more out of her than she’d realized and relaxing sounded like a wonderful idea. Dinner, which she’d been too nervous to do much more than peck at, had been hours ago, and a snack would be most appreciated. Hopefully something sweet and full of carbs.

As Anthony left them, Lucia bent and retrieved Hannah’s small pile of clothing and her shoes. “Come,” she said, smiling.

Chapter 7

Hannah followed Lucia through the dungeon. As they wove their way between scenes in full swing all around them, she scanned the room for Charlotte and Jim, but didn’t see them. She decided not to worry about it. She would just go with the flow.

Leaving the dungeon, Lucia led Hannah down a hallway. She stopped at an ajar door and gestured for Hannah to enter. As they stepped inside, Lucia flicked on the lights. They were muted and recessed, casting a warm, peaceful glow about the small room. Three of the walls were painted a soft pale blue. The fourth wall appeared to be made of dark slate with copper inlays.

“Have a seat.” Lucia gestured toward an overstuffed sofa strewn with pillows. There was a small coffee table in front of it and pocket chairs on either side.

Hannah sank gratefully into the yielding cushions. As she did so, Lucia flipped another switch and a rippling sheet of water cascaded down the slate and copper wall.

“Wow,” Hannah exclaimed, delighted. “That’s so beautiful.”

Lucia settled onto the sofa beside her, snuggling into a corner. “Isn’t it great? I love this room. It’s the perfect place to just get away from everything. I spent a lot of time here when I first came to The Enclave to live.”

Hannah shifted so she could see both the lovely wall fountain and Lucia. She wanted to get Lucia’s take on the scene, but wasn’t quite ready to go there yet. Instead, she asked, “So, can you tell me more about how the training program works here? Charlotte once mentioned that you don’t allow the slave trainees to use a safeword. Doesn’t that go againstthe wholesafe, sane, consensualmantra?”

“No, not really,” Lucia replied. “Not when you understand how it works. Precisely because we work intensively with our trainees, they have no need of an arbitrary word that stops everything in its tracks. Before, after and sometimes during a particular training scenario, the trainee will have the opportunity to express themselves when it is appropriate.”

“That makes sense,” Hannah said.

Lucia nodded. “Submissives who sign slave training contracts with us aren’t engaging in scenes with built-in exit doors. When undergoing the sort of intense training we offer, having no safeword can be quite freeing. There is no decision to make, no guard to keep in place.”

Hannah wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that. The Garden BDSM club used the universal safewordredfor all its patrons, which made sense, like a red stop sign. Everything she’d gleaned from the internet and her limited experience in the BDSM scene told her a safeword was essential, no matter how well you knew and trusted your Dom.

She’d even picked out her own safeword, if and when she ever had the opportunity to be in a position to need one. She’d chosen a variation of red for herself—rose—which was also a silent nod to her pen name, Angelique Rose.

Not wanting to question the wisdom of her hosts, however, she didn’t bring up her concerns. Instead, she asked, “How long has this place been around?”

“Let’s see.” Lucia looked up at the ceiling as she pondered. “It’s been five years now. At first, it was just Anthony and Brandon with a concept. They both have pretty deep pockets. They spent the first year or so getting the place fitted out to accommodate a dungeon and slave quarters, along with suites on the second floor for permanent residents and occasional guests. Then they set about finding like-minded people who wanted to join them.”

“You mentioned earlier you and Anthony had both been widowed? If it’s not too personal, how long have the two of you been together, andhow did you meet?”

Lucia smiled, though her eyes were suddenly sad. “I lost my husband a little over four years ago now. It was sudden—a heart attack. Miguel owned a construction company and he’d actually done quite a bit of work for Anthony when they were remodeling this place. They were already friends because both were very active in the Asheville BDSM community.”

Lucia shifted on the sofa, taking one of the pillows and hugging it to her chest. “We came as a couple to The Enclave for some of the training programs they ran during their first year. That’s when I first met Master Anthony. When Miguel suddenly passed away, Master Anthony was a huge help to me in handling the estate. He also let me come to stay at The Enclave while I got myself sorted.”

She shook her head, smiling. “I basically never left. I help Master Mason in the kitchen at mealtimes, and I also assist in training and grooming the slaves who come through the program. It wasn’t until last year that Master Anthony and I finally admitted what everyone else around here apparently already knew.” She gave a small laugh. “We were in love.”

“Gosh, that’s so romantic,” Hannah said, wondering if she herself would ever fall in love again. She was about to ask more about The Enclave when Anthony appeared at the door. He carried a tray with two mugs and a plate of some kind of pastry.

“Peppermint tea and blueberry scones for my girls,” he said, setting down the tray on the coffee table.

Hannah leaned forward, checking out the treats. “Those look yummy.” Though scones were not Hannah’s first choice for carb binging—usually too dry for her taste—these looked especially good.

“Mason is almost as good a baker as he is a chef, which is saying a lot,” Anthony said with a smile. “These are Lucia’s favorite.” Leaning over, he gave Lucia a quick kiss and then looked at Hannah. “Charlotte and Jim are still playing in the dungeon. You’ll be okay here for a while?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like