Epilogue

UNLIKE HER FIRST TIMEat the mansion, the crowd surrounding wasn't every member in attendance. Other scenes were taking place at other stations through the big play room. But Krista's sole focus was on one and on only one man—her daddy.

He had her kneeling atop a padded bondage table, legs wide, ropes binding her ankles to her thighs, arms bent with her wrists cuffed behind her neck, Krista felt a single bead of sweat trickle between her breasts. In this position, she was helpless, unable to move, vulnerable to anything her daddy wanted to do. She was also unable to squirm away from the vibrator, what he called a Sybian, wedged between her thighs. It was like a saddle with a remote operated raised strip down the center that controlled both vibration and rotation. To make sure she got the most of her ride, Sam slid his fingers between her pussy and the device and spread her lips to ensure direct connect with everything from her clit to the tight hole in back.

Sam was in a particularly sadistic mood tonight, case in point the added torment of the dangling nipple clamps that swayed and bounced against her belly, tugging on the compressed peaks whenever she moved or so much as breathed. She was ready to explode in orgasm, but her wicked daddy had decreed she wasn't allowed to come.

"Ten minutes with the flogger, darlin', then I'll give you relief. Disobey me by coming, and it will be twenty."

Holy crap, how would she endure?

"Daddy?" she began hesitantly.

"No talking, Krista. You may moan, cry, and scream if you like, but I've had enough of your sassy tongue tonight, unless I decide to put my cock in your mouth."

"But—"

His hand came down on her behind with blistering speed.

"What part of no talking didn't you understand, naughty girl?" Silence fell over the room, except for the incessant hum of the Sybian.

The magpie side of her couldn't remain quiet, however. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I promise to be good."

She heard footsteps, some deep grumbles she couldn't understand, and more mutters as he moved up behind her. Suddenly, a red rubber ball with black leather straps dangled before her eyes. It was bigger than the bit gag and looked much more challenging. Bizarre as it seemed, being bound, gagged, and completely under his control had been a featured fantasy ever since the last time. Her mistake, telling him that.

"Too late. You can't seem to follow my rules tonight, so I'll help you out. Open," he ordered, his gruff tone telling her he was as turned on as she was.

He slipped the ball between her teeth and buckled the strap snugly at the back of her neck. She bit down on it, tried pushing it out with her tongue, but couldn't dislodge it. Krista felt another rubber ball pressed into her hand.

"Squeeze," he bade

When she curled her fingers around it, it squeaked like with one of Dallas' toys.

"That's your safeword while you're unable to speak. Use it if you need to, but only if it's necessary. Your sassy tongue has earned you every lash, girl, and Daddy will not be pleased if you try to wiggle out of your punishment. Is that clear?"

She nodded vigorously.

Moving to her side, he slid his hand into her hair and angled her head sharply backward. His mouth descended, kissing the corner of her mouth, then he stroked along her lower lips with his tongue. "Be a good girl for Daddy, Krista. You look so incredible bound to my will, I want to bend you forward and, while the vibrations are driving you wild, take you hard from behind, and I'd rather do it sooner with my obedient girl than twenty minutes later with my naughty one."

He released her, and from the corner of her eye, she saw him look around.

"Now what did I do with that dern flogger?"

Her control was like a frayed rope down to its last thread. She wanted to urge him to hurry, or beg him to lash her later and take her now, but with her words taken away, all she could do was moan. Her body tensed, including her hands, and an inadvertent squeak from the rubber ball echoed in the room.

Sam was immediately at her side loosening the gag. "What's wrong?"

"Inadvertent safeword, sorry, Daddy. I'm fine." That was a lie, so she added, "But I'm about to explode, so can you please, hurry."

He stared at her a moment and his cheeks puffed as he blew out a breath. Then he caught the back of her head with his hand and pulled her slightly sideways for a kiss on the cheek. His lips moved over her skin when he whispered, "You scared me for a second, little bit."

Before she could blink, the gag was firmly in place once more.

"The rules have been set. Your ten minutes start now."

The last word coincided with the first stroke of the flogger across both bottom cheeks. It was more surprising than anything else, and she jumped. But the restraints kept her from going anywhere except more firmly against the raised, humming nub.

She groaned from deep in her throat, and didn't stop when the tails of Sam's flogger landed on her backside again, this time light and teasing like a lover's caress. The next fell with a swish and a snap a little lower, close to where her cheeks met the leather of the bench. The pleasure-pain so delicious, her nipples peaked harder, but the pressure of the metal tweezer clamps prevented them from swelling, and they ached even more. Her body writhed in reaction, only making things worse, since every roll of her hips pressed her clit more firmly against the humming Sybian.

"You like the vibration, don't you, baby?" He reached out and flipped a switch on the control. "How about we add some rotation."

She cried out behind the gag then drew deep breaths in through her nose as she tried so very hard to be good, but there were no words, not that she could speak them if there were, to describe the onslaught of sensation focused between her legs. And then the flogger resumed.

His strokes varied from teasing to breathtaking, and from playful to Daddy-means-business, and he didn't limit them only to her bottom. A few fell across her back and her belly, and one whooshed lightly across both breasts making the dangling clips dance, but he always returned to her bottom, each lash fall driving her hips slightly forward, which only made her contact with the relentless vibrator stronger.

Mindless with need, Krista was one tiny snapped thread away from coming like a disobedient little girl.

She heard a thud on the floor a moment before Sam moved alongside her. One hand splayed across her upper chest, and the other cupped her far shoulder as he lowered her upper body to the table. A whimper, part pleasure part distress, rose when the clamps bumped the table and her pussy encountered vibrations from a different angle.

"Wait a moment longer until I'm inside you."

Sam's legs brushed the back of hers as he knelt behind her on the table. His hands opened wide over her bottom cheeks, and his thumbs slid into her cleft. A waft of cool air bathed her hot flesh a beat before Sam's cock slid through her wet folds.

She held her breath, waiting for him to thrust home. He didn't disappoint, plunging deep and hard, at last. Her muffled cry, and his low groan, rose into the air together.

"Now you may come," he ground out.

"Come with me, Daddy," she begged, her speech garbled by the gag and ragged from her breathlessness. Still, he understood.

"I'd like to hold off, baby, but you're too wet and snug," he growled. But he did, enough to change the angle of his thrusts so that each had her clit rubbing and bumping into the tireless vibe.

It was much too much for Krista, and she gave in to the pleasure.

Sensation sizzled through every part of her, and, with her hands clenched, toes curled, and her spine arched as much as her restraints would allow, she threw back her head and told everyone within hearing distance of her cries that her climax had taken hold.

Sam was close behind, pumping into her quivering body. When he clasped her hips and pulled her hard into his final thrust, filling her with the hot rush of his release, he surprised her by grunting, "So fucking good."

She collapsed onto the bench welcoming the presence of his hard cock filling her, the weight of his spent body on top of her, and listening to his harsh breathing. Krista grinned, not an easy task around the gag, but knowing how much pleasure he found in her, she couldn't keep from it.

He didn't allow himself much time for recovery, uttering something about being too heavy as he moved off her. She hated losing the skin-to-skin contact, his face in her hair, the all-encompassing feeling of her daddy's body surrounding her, and the snug fullness from his generous cock. She didn't miss the gag, which he removed first. It was hot in the lead-up to the scene, but messy in the aftermath. He took care of that, too, wiping her chin and mouth with a soft cloth.

After he released the clamps, cuffs, and ropes, he lifted her limp body in his arms and carried her to a quiet aftercare couch. Once he curled her fingers around a bottle of water and helped her drink, she recognized the secluded corner as the same one he'd taken her to the night they'd met.

Was it only six short weeks ago that her momentary lapse in morals, which could have sent her life careening down a disastrous path of legal trouble, instead led to finding Sam? On that fateful day, she couldn't imagine spending a month with him, now she couldn't imagine her life without him.

A sudden wave of emotions washed over her and, needing to feel close to him, even more than sitting in his lap resting against his chest, she turned to face him and wound her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, linking her hands and crossing her feet, clinging to him like a koala in a tree.

His fingers tangled in her hair and tugged her head gently back. His shrewd eyes searched her face. "You look weepy, little bit. Are you okay?"

"They're happy tears, Daddy." Determined not to think bad thoughts and waste this special time with him she pushed all her "what ifs" out of her head.

"I'm glad, but they could also be an aftereffect from the intense scene we just had." He brushed the hair back from her face and leaned in to kiss her forehead. "It would be a quick onset for sub drop, but I'll keep an eye on you to be safe."

She'd read about sub drop. It involved not only physical effects—feeling drained and sluggish, like with a hangover—but the emotional as well. All from the buildup of hormones and chemicals in the brain during an extreme scene, then the drop afterward as they return to normal.

Krista wasn't sure if that's what this was, although she did feel a little melancholy, but was glad her daddy had tuned in to the possibility and would be looking out for her.

"I take it, from your reaction, you enjoyed your first public play session at the mansion."

"Funny, this time I didn't notice they were here."

A satisfied smile curved his mouth. "Because you were focusing on your daddy, as it should be." He bent forward and touched his lips to hers. "Any problems, concerns, or questions? Aftercare is the perfect time to bring them up."

"Yeah, the Sybian was incredible, twice as much so when you added the rotation. I still feel all tingly from it. And, the flogger was better than any massage I've ever had. Even the gag was hot. When can we do it again? Oh, but I don't mean tonight. I don't think I can take it."

"That's a challenge I accept."

"What? No, I didn't..."

His lips stop her protest. "Haven't you learned anything about your daddy? Words like can't and won't and no make me want to change them to can and will and yes." He hugged her close. "When I asked you how you felt, I didn't mean physically. Although any aches, pains, and tingles you experience are important for me to know, you probably aren't feeling them quite yet." He tapped her temple. "I mean up here, where you might be already. Any worries or fears we need to discuss?"

"Not a one. I love you and trust you, and am so glad you felt I was ready to come tonight."

"There is a lot more to explore, darlin'. But we have a lifetime ahead of us. There's no rush. The mansion is open two nights a week for play; we can come back as often as you'd like."

"I'd like—a lot," she whispered.

"Me, too, with one minor difference. I'd like it a whole helluva lot."

"I think I've corrupted you with my bad language. First, the f-word slipped out when you were, um, climaxing"—talking candidly about sex with him still made her blush—"which I took as a compliment, and now the h-word. I've heard you say it before, not often, but never the biggie. I'll try to do better."

"So, the tables have turned—you're looking out for me now? I like that."

"Daddies need taking care of, too, don't they?" she asked.

"You're right, baby. Sometimes they sure do." He grinned, even while he took her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.

***

WAITING IN THE FRONTparlor of the plantation-style mansion, she sipped the glass of lemonade Sam had brought her before one of the society members asked for a private word.

"Are you all right here for a minute, darlin'?" he asked as his concerned gaze swept over her. She wasn't surprised, considering a short time ago, even after snuggling with him on the couch while she drank her water and nibbled on a piece of chocolate Sam had tucked in his toy bag, her legs were wobbly and barely able to support her when she stood up.

"I'm okay now, Daddy." She looked around the room at the other club members. "Just hurry back, please. I don't really know anyone here."

He kissed the top of her head. "That's something we'll have to take care of right away. In fact, if the rain moves out, a friend of mine and his wife are having a cookout tomorrow. She's about your age, is still taking classes at GU, and likes horses. They come to the ranch often to ride. I'm surprised they haven't been by since you've been with me. I think the two of you would hit it off."

"It sounds like we would. Does she have a daddy dom, too?"

"I'm not sure about that, but Travis is definitely the dominant of the pair." He tipped her chin up and his lips brushed her mouth. Early on, he'd been demonstrative with his affection, but since they'd shared that they loved one another, his PDA was off the charts, and she loved it. "I'll be quick, and make it clear to him, and all the other members, when I'm off duty and here with you, business will have to wait."

"Thank you, but it's okay. I understand. Your job is important."

"Yes, but I also need time off. There are deputies on duty when I'm not and, except for emergencies, they're going to have to get used to the fact I'm no longer available 24/7. I don't ask Dr. Rothman for medical advice when he's out having supper, or pester Paul Nielsen about my taxes while he's walking his three German Shepherds. He'd probably sic them on me if I did, and Rothman, I know, would tell me to go take a flying leap."

She covered her mouth, smothering a giggle at his vehemence. This was a sore spot, evidently.

"My point is, I should get the same respect while I'm here with you."

"Go let 'em have it, Daddy."

He stood staring down at her for a moment.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm trying to decide if that's sass."

She beamed up at him. "Yes, sir, but toward them. I'm on your side."

"You certainly are. I'm reminded how much so every time Jerry retells the story of my rescue at the inlet that night. And I'm damn glad for it." With another kiss, this one quick but with tongue and smoldering hot, he sauntered away.

While she waited, Krista looked around at the other society members here to play or socialize or whatever else brought them out on a stormy Saturday night. She saw a few questioning glances sent her way but also smiles, which put her more at ease and gave her hope they didn't all hold her crimes and those of her mother against her.

A familiar laugh drew her focus to the door and the entryway beyond. Though she couldn't see the woman's face, the flash of bright-red hair was unmistakable. When they said goodbye after class on Thursday morning—sociology, still required for her new curriculum, not microbiology, which already had a big fat W for withdrawn on her transcript—Ally hadn't mentioned working tonight.

Krista set her glass aside and went to say hello to her friend.

In the foyer, there was a group of eight people removing wet outerwear and talking about the wild weather. Her friend was one of them, and what she wore under her coat—a figure-hugging little black dress with a keyhole cutout revealing her ample cleavage—was definitely not a waitress uniform.

"Ally?"

She and the man helping her turned together.

"Krista! What are...? I'm here with... It's not... Oh, dear..."

The handsome man at her side sent her a startled look. "I'm Travis, Ally's husband."

His name stuck a familiar chord. She'd heard it somewhere recently, but couldn't recall where.

"My wife has lost the ability for coherent speech for some reason," he teased, giving Ally a sideways hug "How do you two know each other?"

"We've had several classes together at GU."

"Ah, yes, she's spoken of a Krista." His eyes dipped to her short, black dress and strappy sandals, neither as daring as his curvaceous wife's outfit, but definitely not what a waitress would wear either. He glanced behind her as though looking for someone. "She didn't mention you were in the lifestyle. Are you here with someone? I doubt they'd let you in alone."

"Yes. I'm here with Sheriff Golden. He was called away but should be right back."

"You're Sam's submissive," he said, grinning. "I've been looking forward to meeting you. We've refrained from barging in on you at the ranch. Ally figured you two needed time alone. I had to agree. When we get new residents, we try to give them a little time to settle in and get acclimated before overwhelming them with visits and social activities." Abruptly, his head snapped to the side, and he frowned down at his wife. "Did you know your classmate was Sam's new sub?"

Ally didn't have to answer. Her face, which turned as bright red as her hair, gave her away. At that point, everything clicked for Krista.

"You're Travis, Sam's friend, who's having a barbeque tomorrow and brings his wife to ride at the ranch, but surprisingly you haven't been for the last six weeks." She turned to the woman she thought she could trust. "Which means you knew Sam when you told me about the job here at the mansion. Why did you lie and tell me you worked here?"

"I didn't, not really." She shot a sidelong glance at her now glowering husband. "But I sort of let you think I did."

"Why?"

"You shouldn't be alone, Krista. You're young, smart, and beautiful, but after that cheating asshole broke your heart—"

"Allison," her husband snapped in a tone that didn't bode well for her.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "But if ever an asshole lived and breathed, Brett Jennings was it." Her green eyes came back to Krista. "You needed to find a good man, one you could trust, and I hoped you'd find one here."

"I came here to make some extra money, not get set up."

What the judge had told her the first night came rushing back to her. You're like us, and we're always looking to increase our population with the right type of resident.

No one had denied it, especially Geoffrey. He means pretty, submissive women.

It all suddenly made sense. "Did you recruit me?"

"Well, yeah, but you make it sound like we're a cult. We often bring new members into the society who we feel are a good fit."

"How did you know I'd fit? You only know me from school."

"All staff are thoroughly screened in advance," Travis informed her.

"But I didn't do anything other than fill out an information card and sign the agreement." She saw the guilty look on her friend's face. "You had them check me out beforehand, didn't you? Why didn't I guess? As guarded as you are, you wouldn't let just anyone waitress at the mansion."

"I'm sorry, Krista, but if I'd told you up front, you'd have freaked and said no. Am I wrong?"

"No, but this was really underhanded, Ally, and I don't like being lied to. What about Sam? Did you send him up to the coat room that night?"

"No. That was luck."

"Luck! I almost got arrested!"

"I thought you'd serve drinks and food and meet some of our single doms, and, if Sam showed up, I thought you'd catch his eye. How was I to know you'd try to steal from the members?"

"Ohmigod, I was putting everything back! Why won't anyone believe me?"

"I do. As does Sam, obviously."

"He told you that?"

"Well, not in so many words, but you make him laugh, Krista. He hasn't done that in years, not since..."

"He told me about April."

"You've brought him back to life, Krista, and you are simply glowing, and I'm so happy for both of you."

"You didn't pull this off by yourself."

Sam's hands curled around her shoulder. "Easy, little bit. I'm not upset with you."

She followed his gaze to Ally who was getting one of those stern looks Sam often gave her when she'd broken a rule, or several.

"I was thinking the same thing," Travis stated, as he frowned down at his wife. "I want an explanation, Allison."

"It wasn't only me," she rushed to explain. "But when I told Uncle George about her—"

"Uncle?" she and Sam exclaimed in unison.

"Well, he's not really my uncle."

"He's mine," Travis explained. "Really only a distant cousin, but everyone call's him Uncle George."

"Who, as a judge, could expedite Krista's background check without my knowledge," Sam speculated as he pieced the details together. "And, as host, he could assign Krista to coat duty, and send me up bump into her ‘accidentally.'"

"But why?"

"George Peterson is a hopeless romantic and an untiring matchmaker, darlin'."

"As is my wife, who was a willing accomplice."

"But, Daddy, look how well it turned out!" Ally exclaimed. "They're in love."

Travis was Ally's daddy. That answered Krista's question from earlier that night, at least.

"The end doesn't justify the means, Allison Elizabeth. I thought I told you after the last of George's matchmaking schemes went awry you were forbidden from participating."

"But she was lost and alone, like Sam. I knew in my heart they'd find each other. Besides, all the judge and I did was put them here on the same night, hoping fate would take over. And it did. I just didn't expect it to happen in the coat room with felony charges pending."

"I was putting it back!"

Sam's fingers flexed on her shoulders. "Krista, baby, let it go. Everyone else has."

She glanced up at him and, when she did, noticed a crowd had gathered.

"Perfect for each other or not, Allison, you disobeyed me, and that will not go unaddressed. But it's Sam and Krista you really owe an apology to, as does Uncle George. But since I can't very well strap him to a bench, you, little girl, will have to do."

"I'd accept an apology," Krista offered in defense of her friend. "The rest isn't necessary."

"I think it is."

She whirled on her daddy. "But she meant well! And since it turned out to have a happy ending for us, we probably should be thanking her. Don't you think?"

From the corner of her eye, she could see Ally nodding vigorously.

"If you had been the one caught up in such sneaky business, you would have found yourself over my lap so fast, you would have been dizzy, and you wouldn't have sat comfortably for a week after I wore your naughty bottom out."

"Spoken like a true Texan." She could smile about it because no way would she do such a deed to merit such a reward. "What about the judge? Doesn't he deserve a public punishment, especially if he is the mastermind behind the scheme?"

Sam looked over her head at Travis. "What do you think they'll ask for this time?"

"Probably that new park and playground they've been clamoring for."

"Not the walking trails at the point or the day spa?"

"Nope. I've seen the blueprints. There are slides and rope zip lines and turrets. It looks like a castle and is next on the wish list."

Krista had watched this back-and-forth between them like she was at a tennis match. Nothing about it made sense. "Daddy, I don't understand. What do blueprints for a playground have to do with the judge?"

"A dom is hardly going to drop his pants and take a paddling in the main room," Sam told her. "So, we let the submissives decide their punishments."

"And it hits them where it hurts most, Krista," Travis put in. "Have you seen the security gates up front? Or the fountain in the pond as you pass through? Then there's the new Olympic-size swimming pool at the clubhouse on the south side."

"You mean misbehaving doms did all that as restitution?"

"Yep," Sam said gravely. "Why do you think we're such sticklers about following the rules?"

"I think I'd rather take the spanking. That pool must have cost a small fortune."

"Half a million," Travis advised. "But have you looked around, Krista? Most of these doms can afford it, and then some. Those who don't are assigned fines commensurate with their ability to pay or they provide a service." He slid his hand up to the back of Ally's neck, a signature move she'd noticed almost all doms had down pat. "I'll get her set up. If you two will join us in a few minutes, you'll receive a very pretty and heartfelt apology. Won't they, baby girl?"

"Yes, Daddy."

In the end, a tearful Ally offered her apology on her knees. Afterward, Krista noticed her how her daddy helped her up and, while he praised her and cuddled her close, located a quiet place for her to recover. Judge Peterson put in the playground without a word of complaint, but it didn't curb his matchmaking tendencies, especially when every time he saw Sam and Krista together, he grinned like a proud uncle.

In September, six months to the day they met, Sam and Krista said their I dos in an outdoor ceremony on Golden's Point with the sparkling blue Atlantic as their backdrop. In the front row on the bride's side was Krista's nana, beaming with love and pride and happiness for her granddaughter, and a few tears that her struggles were behind her with Sam at her side.

On the groom's side sat Nell and Houston Golden. She'd laughed, unable to help it when Sam introduced his father. Then apologized profusely for doing so, but Houston was used to some teasing, and explained how Sam's preference for naming everything from horses to chickens to dogs came to him naturally through his Nonna—Abilene Golden.

The two hopeless romantics who'd conspired to get them together weren't left out of the festivities. Ally stood up for Krista as her matron of honor, her husband standing tall and handsome at Sam's side. And officiating the occasion was none other than the matchmaker-in-chief, the Honorable George Peterson, aka Uncle George.