Taken By Surprise by Marteeka Karland cover art by Bryan Keller ISBN (10): 1-59596-449-5 ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-449-6 Genre(s): The Fetish Club, Hot Flashes, BDSM Theme(s): Ménage Length: Short Story (3k - 8k words) The second I walked in the front door and saw my boyfriend's face, I knew I was in deep shit. He was sitting in a plush, crimson chair beside a small table in the foyer with several pictures scattered around him. His face was an emotionless mask. It was the face he used when he was about to move in for the kill. "Those aren't what you think, Mike."

"Save it, Erin." He spoke quietly, but it didn't take a genius to figure out he was pissed as hell. Dressed smartly in gray slacks and a white shirt, he looked professional, but when you looked at the wildness in his eyes, there was a sense of controlled feral animalism. Taking off his wire rimmed glasses, he tossed them on the table.

It was pointless to argue with him. He always won. Quite frankly, if he didn't want to hear my side of things, I shouldn't waste my breath by trying to explain. Still, I had to get in one shot.

"Those weren't taken while we were together."

He flipped through the photos until he found one in particular. "This is my best friend, for crying out loud!" It was the first time I'd ever heard him raise his voice, a testament to his degree of upset.

I sighed. "I suppose I should get my things and get out." No sense beating around the bush.

"You could." He nodded, his composure back in place. He held another picture up to the light and looked at it, as if he didn't care if I was there or not. "Or you can stay. It's up to you, really."

OK. This wasn't what I expected at all. Mike wasn't one to yell and scream normally, but him not kicking me out was the last thing I expected.

"You'd let me stay? After seeing those and assuming the worst?"

"Of course." He looked at me, his expression unreadable. "There would be conditions, however. You'd no longer live the lifestyle you've been accustomed to, unless I say so." His smile was not unkind, merely matter-of-fact. Like everything else he did. "I'd say you've forfeited that right, wouldn't you?"

How could I disagree? For the past year, Mike had let me live in his house as if it were my own, bought me clothes, taken me to the most exclusive clubs, given me money, and never asked for anything in return. For all intents and purposes, I'd been freeloading off him. If he saw this as an opportunity to point that out, who was I to disagree?

When I didn't say anything, he picked up a picture and walked toward me. "You have quite an appetite for… unusual things, don't you?" He did that a lot -- ended his sentences with questions he already knew the answers to. It made arguing with him difficult because I hated being defensive.

"Apparently." I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eye, but I did. I wasn't proud of what I'd done, but I wasn't about to back down from him, either. He intimidated people for a living, and not being intimidated by him was what attracted him to me in the first place. He really got off on women who stood up to him.

But he always got the upper hand. Eventually.