Erotic Weekend by Cheyenne McCray Page B

moment, and Derrick narrowed his eyes as he glanced at her over his
shoulder. “Do you require more punishment, baby?”
    “No, Master.” Andi lowered her eyes again
and increased her pace to keep up with his. She had to remind herself that this
was what she came here for. She wanted this. Wanted to turn over
control. Wanted to pleasure and be pleasured in every way imaginable.
    When they entered another corridor, it was
exactly as she had pictured it. Very medieval, almost frightening. Wooden door
after wooden door ran the length of the corridor. At each door was a small
barred window. Some were closed, but others remained open—perhaps closed for
privacy, or open so that voyeurs were free to watch.
    She swallowed down another gulp of fear as
sounds of screams, shouts, and soft cries met her ears. Chains rattled, whips
smacked flesh and orders were shouted with answering cries of “Yes, Master!” or
“Yes, Sire!”
    “Shit,” Andi muttered without thinking.
    Derrick came to an abrupt stop and she
smacked into him, feeling all that hard male flesh against her naked breasts,
and the heat of him radiating through her body like a branding iron.
    “You’ve broken another rule,” he said,
turning to her, his face as serious as if she had committed the worst of
crimes. “You’re not allowed to speak unless spoken to.”
    “Yes, Master,” Andi whispered.
    “Speak to me in a proper tone.”
    She tipped her chin up a notch, and raised
her voice. “Yes, Master.” Then she realized her mistake and lowered her gaze,
but still looked at him from beneath her lashes.
    No smile from him, only complete
seriousness. “Another punishment is in order. See to it that you don’t break
any more rules.”
    Shit , Andi
thought, this time keeping it to herself as Derrick turned and tugged at her
leash.
    This was it. She could scream her safe word
and be out of here, or she could go through with what could possibly be the
most erotic experience of her life.
    At the very end of the corridor, Derrick
paused in front of a huge rough-hewn wooden door. This one had a larger opening
for a window, with thick iron bars. She waited with her heart in her throat as
he tugged at the door. It creaked open, echoing eerily down the corridor.
    He stepped into the dungeon room and pulled
her leash, bidding her to follow. When she entered the room she came to a dead
stop. Her skin flushed with heat and she grew lightheaded.
    Master Josh stood nude in the center of the
enormous room, whip in hand, his gaze centered on Andi. In those few seconds of
recognition, she saw that Sara was naked, on her knees in a cage, her wrists
bound over her head to one of the bars. Lauren was spread-eagle, her arms and
wrists tied to the wooden arms of a St. Andrew’s cross, and just as bare as
everyone else.
    Andi almost turned and ran. Derrick had
something planned for her, and she wasn’t sure she was going to like it. At
all.
    Derrick tugged at her leash again, and she
turned her wide gaze on him. There he was, looking as incredibly handsome and
dangerous as ever. Just how dangerous could he be?
    He came up close to her so that she again
felt his heat, and despite herself she wanted to melt into him. He reached up
and unsnapped the leash from her soft leather collar. “Safe, sane, and
consensual, baby.” He let the catch on the leash trail down her shoulder.
“Anything you can’t handle, just say your safe word and this all ends.”
    At that moment, with him so close and
making her dizzy with lust, she wasn’t sure she could remember her safe word. Investment?
Stocks? No, portfolio , that was it.
    She hoped.
    “Yes, Master,” she said, and he smiled.
    “That’s my girl.” His face again became a
mask of dominance as he turned to Master Josh.
    “Is the wench prepared?” Master Josh asked
as he lightly snapped his whip.
    Andi gulped.
    Derrick gave a slow nod and glanced toward
a pair of handcuffs dangling from a long, thick-linked chain. Andi’s