He went on to explain that an auction was held at the end of each of the first five weeks where fully vetted Dominants were permitted to bid on the submissive trainees and take them on a consensual excursion outside the walls of the academy for one afternoon and evening. Gunnar had mentioned having participated in one of the auctions for the initial training class, but Kristoffer neither asked for nor expected any details.
Kristoffer learned that the sixth auction was reserved for trainers at the school to work on whatever they deemed important, but the students weren’t told in advance about the last one being any different than the other five.
Anderson continued. “In every way, we strive to prepare our students to become skilled submissives who are not only confident in their talents, but also highly sought after by the BDSM community worldwide.”
As he listened to Anderson field a question about the origins of the school, Kristoffer surveyed the other potential investors, sizing up his competition. The one who had asked the question about the first academy in southern California wouldn’t be a pushover. His gaze then fell on a brown-haired woman with librarian glasses who cast sidelong glances at Anderson. Did the two of them have some kind of personal connection that might complicate a bidding war? She seemed oddly familiar, but he was certain they’d never met. He noticed her respectful and attentive demeanor—laying silent bets she was a submissive.
I once had someone look at me that way.
Anderson’s response to another question forced Kristoffer to stop allowing his thoughts to stray.
Focus, man
. He must still be rattled by the accident. He never let his personal life intrude on business matters. Hell, he had no personal life anymore.
What had Anderson just said?
The headmaster continued as he motioned them to follow him down a long hallway. “We take the privacy of our students very seriously, but I’ve informed the class of tonight’s agenda, and they’ve graciously agreed to allow an observation of the lesson.”
This should be interesting.
Just before entering the classroom, they were given instructions to remain silent and line up against the wall to the left. Anderson stood like a sentinel in the doorway, apparently keeping an eye on things both inside the room and in the hallway. One of the last to enter, Kristoffer was impressed by how everything had been set up, as if he’d walked into a graduate school class. Gunnar had given Kristoffer purchase-bid guidelines based on his earlier observations of the academy, but wanted more detailed information before deciding whether to purchase.
The students seated in the classroom all seemed intent on the front of the room, and Kristoffer’s gaze roamed to where the instructor conducted what appeared to be an anatomy class with two nude models. The female model reminded him of…
What the…
Doctor Pamela Jeffrey?
It
was
her. His eyes opened wider. Seriously? A little more than two weeks ago, she’d passionately shared information with the Forseti Group team about the state of things in the international humanitarian aid hospital where she’d been working until recently. The hospital was yet another of Gunnar’s charities intended to help win the hearts and minds in Afghanistan. Doctor Jeffrey had also brought Gunnar a package from Heidi Rutherford, his cousin’s old flame, who now ran a school for Muslim girls Gunnar supported in the same province.
Gone were Doctor Jeffrey’s baggy sweater and corduroys that had hidden her body type completely. Hell, gone was every bloody stitch of her clothing. What was she doing standing naked next to an equally nude man in front of a class of submissives in training?
Ogling her was unprofessional and rude, but her flawless skin under the bright lights transfixed him—or had he placed a mental spotlight of his own on her? A natural redhead, judging by the neatly trimmed curls covering the mound at the apex of her thighs.
Turn the fuck away, man!
Heat bore into him as he did so, shifting his feet. He raised his gaze again to her face—thinking that should be safe territory—but found her staring back at him, wide-eyed. Not quite as shocked as he perhaps, but definitely surprised.
The notion of sitting across Gunnar’s boardroom table at Forseti Group ever again without seeing her as she appeared before him tonight would be difficult, if not impossible, but he doubted they’d be seeing much of each other. Gunnar had finished deposing her about her recent experiences in Afghanistan. And she’d pleaded her case for humanitarian aid, been granted her request, and had gone on her way.
Straight to this prestigious BDSM academy, apparently.
Christ. This image will be branded on my retinas forever.
To her credit, she composed herself quickly, standing straighter as she turned away to stare toward the class. Still, he watched a flush creep from her chest, up her neck, and into her freckled cheeks. While he couldn’t see the freckles from here, he’d noticed them the other day. Only then he’d thought them cute. Not sexy.
Until now.
Wait a minute
. Why did he find them sexy now? Tori had ruined him for any other woman since he’d met her in college twenty years ago.
Until now.
Wrong. So wrong to be thinking these thoughts about another woman.
Doctor Jeffrey locked her jaw and kept her mouth in a straight line. The no-nonsense instructor handed a long wooden stick to a young male classmate who then pointed to the sexual and erogenous zones on both the man’s muscular body and the physician’s softer body. She’d hidden her assets well—until tonight.
Why the hell wouldn’t she? She was a professional woman, a medical doctor, for Christ’s sake. No doubt she’d had to fight long and hard in her career to keep her colleagues’ and patients’ minds from straying the way Kristoffer’s was now.
What on earth was she doing here? Was she a submissive trainee at the academy or merely moonlighting as a body model tonight? She’d said during the meeting at Gunnar’s that she planned to return to Afghanistan as soon as she could obtain a new assignment. She couldn’t possibly need money this badly, not that aid workers were known to bring in huge salaries.
When the pointer touched her pink areola, his entire being zeroed in on the lesson, and his cock stirred to life.
Bloody hell!
Guilt washed over him. He had no more luck in averting his gaze now than he’d had on the highway at the accident scene earlier this evening.
Her nipple peaked, as if reaching out to the pointer. The room grew unbearably hot as sweat dampened the back of his starched collar. Kristoffer reached up unobtrusively and undid the top button of his shirt so as not to call attention to this lapse in his own professional decorum. At least now he could breathe a little easier.
Realizing he ogled her still, he forced himself to shift his focus to what the student was saying as he pointed out her more than ample attributes. Yes, this was definitely an anatomy class. The student had been instructed to point out the erogenous zones in the female body. No, not just
any
female’s body—Doctor Jeffrey’s. The pointer moved to the rapidly pounding pulse in her neck.
Seeing such an attractive woman standing naked before him gave him any number of inappropriate, unprofessional musings, but horniness was no reason for him to stray down this dangerous road. What he was experiencing was pure, unadulterated lust borne of long-term neglect of a certain part of his anatomy.
An appendage that would remain neglected.
Would she be asked to advise them on her perspective as a student here before Gunnar made a decision as to whether he would purchase this institution?
He hoped not.
The sooner he regained control of his aberrant thoughts, the better.
Hell, what
hadn’t
he seen?
Well, her backside had thankfully been hidden from view.
As if the unknowingly sadistic instructor read his mind, she asked the two models to turn around. Glued to the beautiful display before him, any attempt to turn away failed miserably. He couldn’t if his life depended on it.
The unexpected sight of her ginger tresses cascading down her back jolted him from his stupor. She’d worn it up and carefully styled for the Forseti Group meeting. He had no idea her hair was so long, tapering off just above the curve of her ass.
Why am I fantasizing about her ass? Or hair, for that matter? I hardly know her.
He squinted. Was that a tattoo on her ass cheek? She was too far away for him to see what the small design depicted, but Doctor Jeffrey didn’t strike him as someone who’d be inked.
Stop staring at her ass.
Good luck with that.
His eyes had ceased obeying the commands of his sex-starved mind soon after he’d entered this room.
Anderson quietly motioned the members of the tour group to leave at the end of the male submissive’s anatomy quiz, but once again, Kristoffer found himself glued in place. Just one more glimpse, and then he’d banish all images of a naked Doctor Jeffrey from his mind. Without removing his gaze from the pale skin on her back, he stepped away from the wall to allow the others in the group to precede him out.
When she and her male counterpart were instructed once more to turn toward the class, she immediately faced in his direction, perhaps checking to see if he was still there. She surprised him with what appeared to be a silent plea. Was she begging him to stop staring at her? Or to keep his mouth shut about what he’d seen?
He was fully aware that anything witnessed in a BDSM club or school must remain strictly confidential given the witch-hunt mentality in some communities. He had no intention of outing her. However, she didn’t know him well enough to trust him.
He nodded ever so slightly, and she relaxed a bit.
Anderson cleared his throat, bringing Kristoffer’s attention back to the headmaster standing in the doorway waiting for him to leave the classroom. Relieved to put some distance between himself and Doctor Jeffrey, Kristoffer turned and made a delayed retreat. Anderson closed the door behind them.
Now, Kristoffer needed to regain focus on
his
reason for being here. Gunnar had sent him on a mission. A professional, he would fully investigate whether to recommend this acquisition to Gunnar and, if so, make the deal happen to the greatest financial advantage for his cousin.
* * *
Mortified, Pamela watched from the corner of her eye as Kristoffer Larson exited the classroom. The uptight man had been a team member at the Forseti Group meeting last month. He had exuded an aura of negativity and put a damper on her energy levels for hours afterward. All business. No nonsense. She couldn’t help but sense a deep sadness about him she didn’t understand.
However, he probably was excellent at managing Gunnar’s corporate and personal fortune, because Gunnar didn’t strike her as someone who tolerated ineptitude among the people on his team. No doubt Kristoffer had made his cousin enough money to finance overt and covert operations in both humanitarian and military realms. For that, she was grateful.
Heidi had been right about two things. Gunnar hadn’t blinked an eye when Pamela asked him to help bring one of her young patients to the States for further reconstructive treatment. In mere weeks, he’d moved heaven and earth, and plans were progressing rapidly to have the fourteen-year-old girl on the return flight from his next mission. She’d be taken to a world-renowned pediatric reconstructive unit in Cincinnati where the next phase of surgeries would commence. Gunnar had assured the hospital they and their staff surgeons would be rewarded financially, she was certain. The man seemed to have an endless supply of money—no doubt thanks to Kristoffer, his chief financial officer.
His efforts would truly change this girl’s life. The victim of a vicious acid attack on her way to Heidi’s school late last year, Fakhira had never given up on her desire to live and to continue her education, despite being painfully disfigured.
Heidi also had been right about a more frivolous matter concerning Gunnar. He exuded the dominant vibe from every pore. Judging by her submissive response to the man, no doubt he was just the Top to train an alpha sub like Pamela wanting to learn more about the lifestyle during this temporary break in assignments overseas. Funny how at one time she’d fancied herself interested in being a slave. How wrong she’d been.
Heidi told her she identified as an alpha submissive—a term Pamela hadn’t heard before. But the more she compared her personality and needs as a strong-willed submissive with what Heidi described, the more she began to think she might be one, too. Not one to kneel before just any Dom, someone who needs a Dom who is her equal in many things, and a submissive who needs to be in charge in some areas without being considered a switch.
She still had a lot of questions about the orientation. The only sure way to find out if she was one would be to find a Dom equal to the task. Heidi encouraged Pamela to talk with Gunnar about training her and exploring the dynamic. When Pamela met him, she’d hoped he would take her on himself, but he’d sworn off anything immediate due to his workload. Instead, he had encouraged her to apply to The Denver Academy, which was about to begin new classes.
And here she was, in very short order, thanks to the strings he’d pulled for her. Gunnar must be highly respected in Colorado’s kink community, because everything she’d heard about the school told her it was selective and demanding.
Until tonight’s visit by the group of mostly unknown entities had left her a little rattled, she’d enjoyed being here. But the risk of being outed in the community for participating in the much-maligned BDSM lifestyle could destroy everything she’d worked for.
However, when alerted that the headmaster planned to bring a group of carefully vetted strangers into the classroom tonight, she hadn’t expected to find someone she recognized among them. She hadn’t been involved in a Denver surgical practice for years and rarely participated in the social scene when home.
Unfortunately, after her breakup with Marc D’Alessio nearly four years ago, she’d had trouble figuring out her place in this community and had walked away from the lifestyle. Until this forced rest period from her overseas work, she hadn’t had time to sort out what she wanted in her private life. Soon after her arrival here, The Denver Academy trainers and instructors had broadened the list of what she’d be willing to try with the right person. Master Anderson assured her this would be the perfect opportunity for her to explore and determine her needs rather than focus so much on what she thought she liked or wanted.