Master and Inquisitor

By: Jan Bowles

Masters of Submission 4

Master and Inquisitor

When thirty-four-year-old Club Submission owner Ethan Strong hires the enigmatic and beautiful young woman to work behind the bar, he’s instantly drawn to the submissive with the sad blue eyes. Twenty-seven-year-old Beth Beaumont’s previous Master died three years ago, yet only now does she feel ready to embrace the lifestyle again. Ethan is instantly attracted to his mysterious new employee, and they soon embark on a D/s relationship that breaks all the rules.

Beth’s past holds a chilling secret that she dares not divulge—even to her new Master. Her life depends on maintaining her silence.

However, Ethan’s inbuilt lie detector never lets him down, and he instinctively knows Beth isn't telling the truth. As a respected Dom, he will not tolerate a sub who repeatedly tries to deceive him. To break her resolve, he calls upon the services of the Inquisitor—a darker, less benevolent side of himself, who never shows any mercy.

Will Beth be forced to yield such deadly secrets to her Master and Inquisitor?

Chapter One

Beth Beaumont curiously surveyed the imposing brick façade of the large building directly across the street. A pair of huge bronze ravens guarded the impressive entrance to the club. According to the whispers circulating Boston, Club Submission was the place to come for all shades of kink. Beth took a lungful of the early-morning air, savoring the moment as the wind rustled pleasantly through her long, blonde hair. It had been a while since she’d last explored and enjoyed the fetish scene. Now, her self-appointed three-year exile was about to come to an end, albeit on a partial basis, because she was here in a strictly professional capacity.

Three years ago, she could never have imagined wanting to return to the hedonistic delights of the BDSM world, but time was a great healer, and now the draw was proving too strong. When she’d heard of a vacancy for a bar attendant in the exclusive private club, she’d been unable to resist the lure.

Truth be known, financially she didn’t need this job. She already worked from nine to five as a clerk for a national bank in downtown Boston. No, the position being offered by Club Submission was simply a way of reconnecting with people heavily into the lifestyle. She still didn’t know if she could entirely let go of the past. Antonio, her first and only Master, had been her entire world. She was convinced that no other Dom could ever take his place, but she desperately needed to rekindle some of the old magic. Christ, she was just twenty-seven years old. She wasn’t about to give up on life just yet.

As she climbed the short flight of steps to the impressive double oak doors, she actually relished the tight knot of tension that settled in the pit of her stomach. If she found the outside of Club Submission slightly intimidating at ten in the morning, how would it feel when darkness descended? The Gothic lanterns swinging above the massive bronze ravens in the March wind would surely add their own sense of foreboding when night fell.

Beth tentatively pressed the gargoyle doorbell, then waited as patiently as her nerves would allow. After a short while, she heard the unmistakable sound of a series of heavy bolts being drawn back. Unsure what to expect, she took a deep breath as the large doors slowly swung open. Feeling relieved, Beth released the air from her lungs as a woman in her early thirties, with a froth of short blonde curls greeted her with a warm smile. “Hi, honey. You’re here about the job, right?”

“That’s right. My name’s Beth Beaumont. I believe we may have spoken on the telephone. I have an interview with the owners of the club.”

The woman smiled again, a genuine smile, and she hoped they could become good friends. “You’re right on time. Come on in, honey, the wind’s getting up outside.” She welcomed her through the door, and then bolted it behind her. “I’m Andrea. I work on reception most of the time, but when Ethan and Matthew need help elsewhere in the club, I always try to accommodate them. They may be my bosses, but they’re great guys, too.”

Beth surveyed the surprisingly small reception area. It consisted of a welcome desk, complete with computer screen. Another door opened out into an annex showing numerous rows of empty coatracks. Apart from a silver bowl containing glossy black match booklets with the words “Club Submission” emblazoned in gold lettering, there was little that gave away the true nature of the club.

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