Sophie Oak: Siren Enslaved

Julian Lodge gingerly flicked the four-foot single tail whip and was pleased at the perfect line of pink that appeared across Sally’s back. The entire dungeon was perfectly quiet. He quickly laid three more across the skin of his longtime slave’s back and thighs. She never once moved or showed that she even felt the lash. Sally was practically perfect. She never disobeyed or questioned him. She took every punishment he handed out with grace. She was his perfect match, a lovely masochist to match his control freak with a slight streak of sadism. He had been her Master for almost five years. She’d been his only slave since the incident with Jeremy Walker.

He was letting her go.

“Rise, slave.” Julian heard the words come out of his mouth. He pushed them forward, saying all the proper things to get this ritual moving along. Julian Lodge was a man who believed in ritual and routine, but now he wanted it all over with so he could go back to his penthouse apartment and…he wasn’t sure what came after this.

All around him, he heard the whispers. The Club was like any other social group. There was always gossip. Julian knew much of it was about him.

Sally rose gracefully to her feet. She turned and looked luminous as her eyes met the man beside him. Julian’s heart clenched. She’d never once looked so happy at anything he’d done, but she glowed for Stephen MacKay.

The high-powered attorney looked just as happy as he took the whip from Julian’s hand. Julian walked to his former sub and took the collar from her throat.

“Be happy, pet,” he said, meaning every word. He genuinely liked Sally. She’d been a good sub. It wasn’t her fault he wasn’t capable of commitment. He’d known he needed to find her a permanent Dom for the last year. He’d kept up his obligations to her, but his heart wasn’t in it. He’d tried two male subs since he’d let his last permanent male sub go. Permanent. The word played through his brain like a mystery he had yet to solve. Nothing in his life seemed permanent.

Sally bowed her blonde head. “Thank you, Sir.”

She wouldn’t call him Master, not ever again. An odd sensation made Julian’s eyes feel strange. His face felt hot. His vision started to cloud. Was he…Oh, hell, no. Julian ruthlessly tamped down the sentimental feeling that started to overtake him. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to think about the fact that he was forty-two years old and had absolutely nothing to look forward to. He had a life most people would kill to live. He was a billionaire, an ultrapowerful financier, and he owned the hottest BDSM club in the south. He had nothing to feel sad about.

Sally knelt at her new Master’s feet. Her head bowed in perfect submission. Stephen MacKay’s hand cupped her head, and he offered his thanks as well. Julian moved to the side of the stage as MacKay took over. It was only moments before Sally wore a new collar and the couple was accepting congratulations from the members of The Club. The crowd broke up as the real party began. The small group of friends invited to the ceremony moved up to the penthouse where Julian had offered to play host.

Two hours later, he wondered when his hosting duties could end. Julian walked out onto his balcony. The lights of Dallas twinkled around him, but he didn’t really see them.

“It’s a good thing you did.”

Julian turned to look at Leo Meyer. He walked out onto the balcony, two beers in his hand. The thirty-three-year-old former Navy SEAL was his Dom in residence. He pressed a longneck into Julian’s hand. “It was time.”

Leo took a sip of his own beer as he looked out over the city. He stood next to Julian, a little smile on his face. “Come on, man, I know beer isn’t your speed, but you gotta drink a little. It’s tradition.”

“Tradition?”

Laughing, Leo turned to face him. He’d changed out of his leathers into more comfortable jeans and a T-shirt. Julian despaired of him ever becoming fashionable. Rather like another of his protégés. “You just broke up with a girl, man. You gotta drown your sorrows in cheap beer.”

Julian seriously doubted that the beer in his hand was cheap. He’d had the entire affair catered in, and it had cost him a small fortune. Still, if it was tradition, he didn’t see why not. He took a sip of the cold brew. It wasn’t half bad. “Should I drown my sorrows even when I gave the sub away?”

Leo’s mouth turned down. “It was the best thing for her, boss.”

It had been necessary. Though he knew he would miss Sally, he found himself no longer capable of giving her what she needed. He refused to fail her, so he found her someone else. “Sally deserves to be happy.”

There was a long pause. The cool air prickled along Julian’s skin, reminding him he hadn’t bothered with a jacket. He didn’t even think about getting one now. At least the cold meant he felt something. He hadn’t in a very long time, not until earlier this evening.

“Don’t you deserve to be happy, too?”

“I am happy.” It was an automatic response. His armor came up around him, and Julian felt his face go cold. He turned to Leo. “I have everything I could possibly need. Who wouldn’t be happy?”

Leo sighed and tipped back his beer. “And I spoke too soon. Well, when you’re ready to talk, I’ll be around.” He shoved off the railing and turned to go.

“And what would I talk about, Leo?”

Leo’s hand was on the door. “The fact that you’re frozen, Julian. When you’re ready, we’ll talk about the fact that you aren’t moving forward with your life.”

“You’re fired, Leo. The next time I hire a Dom in residence, I’ll make sure he doesn’t have a degree in psychology.”

“You do that, boss,” Leo said with a smile that let Julian know he didn’t take his threat seriously. “One of these days I’m going to put that degree to good use. For now, I’m enjoying spanking pretty subs. I just psychoanalyze you in my spare time.”

“Well, stop, please, or I just might make good on my threat.”

“I doubt it. You like me, Julian. You’ll do amazing things for the people who get past that shell around you. You can actually be quite tolerant when your heart is engaged. That’s what those people in there don’t understand. You have a heart. You simply prefer not to use it.”

The door closed behind Leo, and Julian stared out at the night, the words echoing in his brain. Perhaps Leo didn’t know him as well as he thought. Julian had no idea how to use his heart, or perhaps he would have been able to keep the people he loved close to him. There hadn’t been many, but every one of them had left for greener pastures. Not a single one had truly known him.

Hell, he didn’t know himself. Perhaps the time had come to be alone for awhile. For the first time in years, he didn’t have a slave. He thought about a phone call he’d taken earlier that day. Jackson Barnes had called. He called at least once a week, reaching out. Each time he called, Julian asked what was wrong, and Jack simply responded that he was calling to “shoot the shit.” Julian would never have used the phrase himself, but he found he looked forward to the weekly calls more and more. He and Jack talked about their lives, and Jack often spoke of the wife he shared with Sam Fleetwood. Abigail was pregnant and due any day now. Jack and Sam were younger than he was. He’d trained them, helped them along, and they had found their happiness elsewhere. They had a family.