By the time she reached the stage, she was sure. She wanted to be their sub. Hell, she needed to be their sub.
“Come with me.” Paul spoke louder. “Everyone who’d like to watch, you know where we’re going.”
Destin took her hand and led her back the way she’d come, then down the hallway where a few people peeked their heads out of the numbered rooms.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Do you remember the safe word?”
She stopped, then was tugged along with him. The mention of the safe word meant only one thing. “Are we going to do…something?”
Paul strode past her to open the door at the end of the hallway. “You could say that.”
She followed Paul and Destin outside and into a pasture behind the club. Although it was late, the moonlight lit up the area along with a couple of spotlights mounted on the back wall. June bugs danced around the lights.
She glanced around, searching for another stage, but saw nothing but a big trough like those used to water the horses in the field. A platform, large enough for several people to sit on and hang their feet over the side into the water, ran around the far side of the trough.
“I don’t understand. What do you want me to do, sirs?” She turned toward Paul and was stunned, yet very pleased to see that he was disrobing. The others formed a crowd around the trough. Destin already had his shirt off and was tugging his belt free.
She almost forgot about the other people watching. Until now, she’d only guessed at the men’s physiques. The hard bodies she’d known they had were beyond her imagination. Muscles rippled and their skins were a light cocoa tan from hours in the sun. She’d hoped to see them on horseback soon, but as she stood there, her mouth watering as they revealed their long, curved cocks, she pictured them more as Greek gods. They were men with lean waists and wide shoulders. Their legs were as large and as sturdy as the limbs of trees. The power they possessed by their confidence was matched only by the strength of their hard muscles.
Unashamed of their bodies—and why should they be?— they took the steps leading up to the top of the water trough and eased their bodies over the side. Water sloshed, spilling over.
“Take off your clothes, baby, and join us.”
Until then, she hadn’t thought that she’d join them. “You want me to take off my clothes and get into a horse’s watering trough? Really, sirs?”
Paul’s eyes flashed with irritation. “Georgia, if you want to leave, do it. But if you want to stay here and work in the club, if you want to stay with Destin and me, then do what I say and do it now.”
“And never question us again.” Destin’s face had hardened as Paul’s had. “Come and learn how submissive you can be.”
Only a few days ago, she would’ve been horrified at the idea of stripping in front of all those people. Instead, she’d found that she wasn’t. The opposite was true. She was titillated, excited so much that she was already feeling the wetness seep between her legs.
“Now, Georgia. Choose.”
The sound of Paul’s voice jerked her into activity. Bending over, and no doubt exposing her ass to the crowd standing behind her, she pulled off her boots. An appreciative murmur encouraged her.
Her gaze met Destin’s, then Paul’s, as she reached behind her neck. With a quick push at the snap, she undid the strap on her halter top. The material fell to her rib cage.
She was ready to commit to them, ready to claim them as her masters. Yet instead of making her feel less, her decision empowered her, giving her more confidence than she’d ever had. She needed them, realizing now that she’d wanted them from the moment she’d pulled their car over on that cold winter night. Nothing else mattered. Not her job and not even the murder case. Satisfying her men was what was important. If she made them happy, she’d find her own true contentment.
The warm night air caressed her breath, but it was the pleased expressions on the men’s faces that made her clit throb. She paused, hoping they’d encourage her to keep going.
They did, but not with their words. Instead, it was how they slid their lust-filled looks down over her breasts to the waist of her skirt.
Happy that her hands didn’t tremble, she reached for the zipper on the skirt, then eased it down. The tightness of the skirt kept it from falling to the ground and that’s when she remembered that she didn’t have any underwear on.
Yet embarrassment was the farthest thing from her mind. Instead, as the women and men of the club, friends and neighbors of the Casing men, watched, she felt emboldened, more powerful than she’d ever felt while holding a gun.