Free Frisky Business by Michele Bardsley Page B

shops, high-dollar gaming, and state-of-the-art dance clubs.
    Many of Bondage Bay Hotel’s suites include private play rooms. For an extra fee, we will create a personal space based on your needs and desires. We offer a delightful array of sexual aids as well as your choice of BDSM furniture—from spanking benches to leather slings.
    Our public dungeons are open 24/7 and are run by Doms and Dommes who are not only skilled in the arts of sexual torture, but are also trained security agents. Our guests are our number one concern—you are always safe on our property.
    We have many fun activities, but among our most popular events is the nightly slave auction hosted by the luscious Domme, Lady Pink. All proceeds from the sales go to charitable causes. All the fun goes to you, either as the owner … or the slave.
    Claire put down the brochure and picked up a glass of champagne. Reading about the resort had done little to inform her or to calm her nerves. Usually researching any topic in-depth gave her the confidence she needed to dive into a project.
    Unfortunately, that had not been the case with Bondage Bay or the Dark Delights resort. Her emotions ran the gamut between feeling horrified and excited. Mostly excited. And that was the most confusing part of the whole awful experience.
    “Enough, you chicken,” she muttered. “You can do this.” She looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Her brown hair, glowing with her recent indulgence of highlights, curled around her shoulders. She wasn’t one for lolling about in the sun, so she was pale, but her skin still had a healthy glow. She’d indulged in sparkly shadow to highlight her blue eyes and traded her usual coat of Chap Stick for red lipstick.
    She put her hands on her hips and studied her reflection. The hip-hugging mini skirt and sexy calf boots were solid black; the black-and-teal striped corset paid serious homage to her 34 C breasts. I didn’t realize I had that much cleavage.
    Well, at least now she looked like someone who belonged at the Bondage Bay Resort. If all of Bad Boy’s employees were dressing the part, then she could do no less. Of course, she wondered how many of them were playing the part as well.
     
    CLAIRE ARRIVED IN the hotel lobby with twenty minutes to spare. When she spotted the little gift shop, she dropped in to grab a bottle of water and a tin of Altoids. Several shelves sported items travelers needed: toothbrushes and nail files, Pepto-Bismol and Imodium, potato chips and peanuts, as well as to-be-expected souvenirs.
    On the way to cash register to pay for her water and mints, she paused at a display of key chains: tiny floggers, handcuffs, red hearts, and … oh, lovely … male genitalia. C’mon! Who puts a teeny dick on their keychain? Next to the display was a row of black coffee mugs. In fancy white typeface one touted: I Got Tied Up at Bondage Bay Resort.
    She skipped over the shot glasses and snow globes. Unable to resist the sparkle of a rotating rack full of jeweled chokers, Claire plucked off a teal one. The color matched the teal stripes of her corset and the three sparkling gems in the center complemented her diamond earrings.
    “Hi there!” said the girl at the register. Her name tag read “Dawn.” “May I ask who the collar is for?”
    Claire pulled out a credit card from her day planner. “It’s mine.”
    “Wow. Your Master let you pick it out?”
    The girl sounded astonished. Damn. She didn’t want to breech some jewelry-buying BDSM protocol. “He … er, picked it out and told me to … uh, buy it.”
    Dawn smiled. “My master picked out mine, too. I wore my blue collar for more than a year.” She touched the silver-studded, black leather strip around her throat. “When he presented me with this one, we had an official collaring ceremony at the resort—there’s a chapel and a reception hall. Maybe one day you’ll return for a ceremony, too.”
    Collaring ceremony? Claire wasn’t sure how to