When Xander takes a moment to respond, I wonder whether he’s keeping quiet out of loyalty to her.
“No, we didn’t meet through our work,” Xander gives an eventual and brief reply which explains nothing at all. His fingers rub his brow. “Look, Heart. You heard what was said outside. I think you should know, but Amy is worried it will change what you think of her.”
“Nothing will affect my love for my daughter, Xander.” I rest my elbows on my knees, clasp my hands, and look at him intently. “What I can’t deal with is being left in the dark. Any problem she’s got is mine.”
Xander nods. It seems he needs a minute, we give it to him.
“She’s got PTSD,” he says after that moment.
“Sort of gathered that from the panic attack we saw and the nightmares you say she has,” Drummer tells him. “What we don’t know is why, and what the fuck caused it.”
“Or why she didn’t come to me,” I put in.
Xander glances at Drummer, then at me. “You asked how we met. It’s something a daughter wouldn’t want her father to know.”
“Why the fuck not?” asks Drum.
“How the hell did you cross paths?” I demand.
Xander purses his lips, then admits, “We met because we have a common pursuit. We both attend the same BDSM club.”
Oh my fucking God no! I lurch forward getting into Xander’s face. “What the fuck are you talking about? What the hell was my daughter doing at a club like that? Someone took fucking advantage of her? You hurt her?”
“Whoa, man.” Xander holds up his hands as though fending me off. I notice the already dark skin of his face deepening more. “I’m starting to see why Amy didn’t want to tell you.” He shakes his head as though regretting he’d opened his mouth. I almost wish he hadn’t, I doubt I’ll ever rid myself of the unpleasant images he’s placed into my mind.
“Quiet, Heart. Amy’s an adult, she can do what she wants.” Drummer’s snapped words attract my eyes. He’s trying to send me a message. But it’s not his little girl we’re talking about. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have a daughter.
As I turn back to Xander, I feel my face burning. “Which club? What happened? Was it the first time she visited?”
Xander’s eyes have narrowed. “Shit.” He draws his hands down his face and looks unwilling to say more.
Abruptly I stand. “I’m going to speak to her. Find out what the fuck she was thinking of going to a place like that. Who fucking took her there in the first place? Was it you that suggested she go?” I’ll strangle him with my bare hands if it was.
Suddenly Xander’s on his feet as well. “You want to hurt your own daughter, Heart? Make her feel worse than she already does? You know fuck all about her life, and it would appear,” he sends me a sneer, “fuck all about her and her needs.”
“I know everything there is to know about my daughter. Starting with, she’d never go to a place like that. Not of her own volition.” My hands start to rise, I’m aiming for his throat.
“Heart!” Drummer snaps in his old presidential tone. “Sit back down,” he thunders. “Something’s happened to Amy, and we need to hear what it was. You go off, rant and rage at her like you’re doing now, how the fuck is that going to help?”
“But Prez… Drummer,” I correct quickly, realising old habits die hard. “A pervert must have fuckin’ hurt her, if it wasn’t Xander himself.” I glare at the man in front of me.
“Sit down now!” my ex-prez roars. “Both of you.” He waits until we’ve got our asses back on the seats, then directs his stare at Xander. “Answer the question. How come Amy was in a fuckin’ kink club?”
He’s faced with two angry bikers staring at him, but he’s got himself under control as he says calmly, “I’d left my phone in the clubhouse last night, so I walked back to get it. You know what I walked into? A live porn show. Women dressed, or should I say, undressed, with only one thing on their agenda.”
Why the fuck is he telling us this when he should be talking about Amy? “Christ, man, you’re talking about the whores. That’s what they’re there for.” I doubt it was a good look for an outsider, but to hell with what he thinks. “What the fuck has that got to do with Amy?”
Xander’s forward leaning posture shows that he’s going on the offensive. “Amy was brought up in an environment where sex was on tap, pleasure casually given and taken.”
“Kids were kept away from all that,” I say scornfully, while remembering there was one occasion at least where Amy had not. I often wonder if that’s why she left the compound. I push down my guilt, I’d done what I’d had to do, and Wizard had played his part admirably. Too well perhaps.
“And you’re accusing us of… what?” Drummer says, eerily calmly. “That we set her up to meet an abusive fuck in a BDSM club?”
“Not at all,” Xander refutes fast. “Heart, it might be hard for you to accept, but Amy is far from being a kid anymore, and we both know she’s not stupid. From what you just said, you have whores on tap. No, don’t get defensive, what I saw was women enjoying themselves.” He pauses until I shut my mouth, then looks over the desk. “Drummer, I’m not accusing you of anything. What I’m saying is her background has given Amy a healthy outlook on sex.” He shrugs, then continues, “A knowledge that there’s pleasure to be had between a man and a woman—or even another woman, or multiple partners come to that. Exploring and having fun sexually was nothing she was, or is, or should be ashamed of.” He levels that stare on me. “It might be Christmas morning, but if you even hint to her that what she’s been up to is dirty or wrong, then I’m taking her away immediately.”
I seethe at his threat. “I’m her father.”
“You could hurt her… damage her, with just a few wrongly placed words.” He rubs at his temples. “You don’t understand her. Oh, I’ve no doubt you knew her as a child, but she’s not been a kid for a very long time. What she does goes to the very heart of her.”
“You’re saying she’s promiscuous?”
I don’t like that word. But then Drummer got his name for banging everything in sight before he met Sam, and I wasn’t shy myself before I got married for the first time. Xander’s right, Amy’s been subjected to promiscuity all of her life, why shouldn’t it have rubbed off on her? But as I’m thinking maybe I can understand, even if I don’t like the idea, Xander stops me with just two words.
“Definitely not.” As both sets of eyes land on him, Xander continues, “BDSM clubs are not just about sex, or about sex at all a lot of the time. They are about letting someone be the way they truly are, giving them a safe place to explore not only their sexuality, but their psyche deep down inside, which maybe they normally need to keep hidden from the real world.”
Put like that, it almost sounds respectable.
Until he says the next words, “Amy’s submissive.”
“Amy?” I scoff at him. “Fuck, she grew up bossing the little ones around, do this, do that. She’d stand up for them too. She’s no doormat.”
“Of course she’s not,” Xander counters. “But I bet her bossing was to keep them safe, and I would place good money that she helped her stepmom with the chores. Got pleasure from doing things for someone else.”
“That about sums her up, Heart.” Drummer’s steel stare has dialled back from killing mode to maybe just permanently maiming instead.
Amy’s man continues, “She’s a nurse, and a good one. A typical role for someone who gets satisfaction from serving. Having direction and obeying rules.”
Drummer’s eyes meet mine, and he says in a dangerous tone, “And what role did you play, at this BDSM club? Where does Amy come in? Was something taken too far?”
It’s a fair assumption to make, and I don’t really need Xander’s hesitant nod to confirm it. What I don’t like is the image of him abusing her. I start to open my mouth, but Drummer gets in first.
“So you have fucked her?” He must have been lying when he said he had not.
; Xander is adamant. “No. I’ve never played with her.”
“Think you’re toying with us. Spit it out, man.” Drummer’s growing impatient. “Did you or anyone else hurt her?”
Now both hands rub at his temples. “Yes.”
“Details, man.” I want to know who I’m going to kill, and from the look on his face, Drum does as well.
“Look, it’s not my story to tell, but I’d rather this interrogation was directed at me, and not at her. Right now, she wouldn’t survive it.” He huffs. “I can’t actually believe I encouraged her to come to you, seems she was right you’d have difficulty being able to understand.”
“Well help us out, man,” Drummer impatiently demands.
A quick grin crosses Xander’s face. “I’m a Dominant, a Dom, and the excuse for the way you both are acting is that you share some of the same traits.” My eyes narrow, and my brow creases. “You’re protective to the extent of being overly so, you want to make it right for any of your family who are, or could be, hurt. I’d go so far as to suggest you prefer the controlling role in the bedroom and want to see your women take their pleasure first.”
I find myself smirking.
“While a submissive has the desire to serve, a Dom prides himself on control, and that means above all, being in control of himself. A true Dom will never be hot-headed, will never lose his self-control. The safety and pleasure of his sub is paramount. Or should be.” His lips narrow, but I don’t interrupt, thinking he’s getting to the gist of it now. “A huge part of BDSM is about communication. Before any scene, there’s a negotiation, and how the scene will progress is agreed upfront.”
“Doesn’t sound very spontaneous.”
“It’s not,” Xander agrees, “for the most part. And therein lies the safety element, the need for explicit consent. If the Dom is going to request oral sex, either give or receive, agreement is obtained before the fun starts. Same with whipping or flogging, bondage or anything else.”
“You’ve whipped my daughter?” I stiffen.
“I told you, I’ve never played with her. But I can reassure you, Amy’s no masochist, though there would be nothing wrong if she was.”
Am I reassured? Fuck yes. I don’t give a damn about whether it’s in a club or not, but I’ll cut off the hand of any man hurting my daughter.
Xander seems to look at a spot above my head. “The club we go to is a good one, I’ve been a member for years. I’ve put in enough time and garnered sufficient respect that I’ve rights as a master Dom, and, take my turn at being a dungeon monitor. As I said, safety is a priority.”
“Has Amy been going to the same club for years?”
His head moves in a negative direction, and his brow furrows. “Maybe for the last twelve months. After she joined, I began to notice her around the club, well, who could miss her, she’s a beautiful woman. But as I said, I’ve never played with her.”
“Not your type? Or you hers?”
Now the man shrugs. “Just didn’t happen. I already had my established subs.”
“She was new to BDSM?”
He chuckles. “Definitely not. She’d been a regular at another club, moved to ours because it has a good reputation.” His mouth twists and I realise it probably hadn’t lived up to its repute. “I said I was a dungeon monitor. Well, that involves going around, viewing the scenes, and making sure they are all performed safely, and that full consent has been obtained. The club is well equipped and some scenes can be very intense. Obviously the experience can be very sexual, but penetration is not allowed.”
I shake my head, revising my opinion. No cocks in cunts? “So Amy didn’t go to the club for sex?” I exchange a quick look with Drum.
“BDSM clubs are sexual, but sex isn’t what, or all, they’re about. They allow a person to be what they want to be, to relax and get out of their heads for a while. With subs, it’s subspace where they totally let go, letting someone else take control and drive their pleasure. Doms, well, it’s a heady experience to have someone place themselves in your care. I get off on that.” He does a quick check to make sure we’re keeping up. “In Amy’s case, she has a demanding job. One where she has to make decisions, and direct other people, she’s got sufficient responsibility where making the right call can be a matter of life or death.” He looks up and meets our eyes. “She might be submissive at her core, but she’s not when it comes to her daily life.”
“But at the club, she can be?” I’m starting to understand. Starting. Not there as yet.
“It’s a power exchange. When a submissive like Amy comes into the club, she can leave her worries at the door. For a few hours she can let someone else make all the choices for her. As I said, I didn’t play directly with Amy, but I have a lot of experience with subs.”
“So you know what type of… what did you call it, play? That Amy was into.”
“I think we’re entering the area of confidentiality, and I’m not going to cross it.” Xander’s voice deepens and what I suspect is the Dom, appears. “What she likes and wants is between her and her Dom, and none of anyone else’s business. But,” he holds up his hand when I go to speak, “I never saw… well, before… I didn’t see her submitting to anything other than a light erotic flogging.”
I realise I don’t want to know. “So leaving aside the specifics, what sort of things would a submissive like Amy go there for?”
“If I was playing with a sub like her, I’d see that she liked to be restrained, maybe blindfolded, then I’d submit her to all sorts of sensations: feathers, a Wartenberg wheel, maybe even a little wax or a violet wand. Whatever I thought would arouse her and get her out of her head, so she can forget everyday life and her concerns for a while.”
That doesn’t sound much different to how I’ve played with Marc in the past and have to admit to there being handcuffs kept in my bedside table. Slick, God rest his soul, was more into that sort of thing, having had tips from Rope and Cuff in Vegas, and he hadn’t been shy about sharing them. I glance at Drummer who’s steadily looking at his clasped hands on the desk and suppress a grin. I reckon Sam probably knows a lot about restraints. I begin to become a little more comfortable with things Amy might have experienced. It isn’t as bad as I first had thought.
“You’ve given us enough background.” Drummer pointedly looks at the clock above the door. “Get on with the specifics. What went wrong in this idyllic club of yours?”
A dip and rise of Xander’s head shows he’s indeed going to get down to business.
“As a dungeon monitor I might not have played with all the subs, but I was aware of them of course. I knew the ones which have masochistic tendencies, and those which had none. I knew the Doms preferences as well, and their skill levels. If I thought a Dom was inexperienced or trying something for the first time, I’d make sure to stay close by to step in if necessary.” He breaks off as though the memory is painful, and rubs at his temples again. “When I saw her with Flint, I was surprised. Flint is a sadist, and Amy wasn’t into pain. I thought it an odd coupling. Flint had been away from the club for a while, I don’t think Amy had met him before.” Xander’s voice has again deepened, and despite his iron control, a touch of anger comes into it.
“Both Dom and sub would have had negotiations, her consent would have been obtained for whatever he’d planned. As a club strict on safety, Flint had completed our training program before being allowed on the floor. That covers things like basic anatomy. It was unusual for him to target such a sub, but then, he’d been absent a while, and who knows what mood he was in that night. But I decided to keep a close eye on them. I even explained to the other dungeon monitor where my focus was going to be for the next couple of hours. Flint had taken her to a private room, but it had a viewing pane in the door, so that’s where I was stationed.”
“If you were keeping a close eye on them, what the fuck happened to my daughter?” He’s admitting to some sort of failure. How much will determine his punishment to come.
Xand
er gives a quick shake of his head. “Flint had her restrained, on a bondage table. She was blindfolded. Nothing unusual there.”
“Naked?” I ask, gritting my teeth for the answer.
But Xander’s glare back shows he’s not going to go there.
“What did this Flint do?” Drummer rasps out, sitting forward. Another man might have flinched, but not Xander.
“While I was watching, nothing unexpected. I noticed Flint had clocked me staying nearby and didn’t seem pleased about it. But I just put that down to him thinking he was experienced enough to not need a caretaker. Well, to be honest, I didn’t give a damn what he was thinking, I just wanted to see a happy and safe sub.”
“While you were watching,” Drummer snarls grabbing at his words, “you left her? Because this is where you’re going, isn’t it?”
Again Xander’s head rises and falls, and again his already black cheeks seem to darken. “All hell broke loose. I had to leave my post, a woman was screaming. Turns out another Dom was doing knife play. The knife had slipped and the girl was cut.” He shrugs. “It happens. Some clubs ban extreme play for that purpose, we don’t. She wasn’t hurt badly, but shocked. Just needed a few Band-Aids, no hospital visit required, but she’d freaked at the sight of her breast bleeding. I helped the other dungeon monitor calm her down, administered the first aid necessary. Then I went back to the scene I’d been watching.”
As his eyes meet mine and harden, I realise I need to try and brace myself for what’s coming next.
“When I went back…” his voice falters.
“Fuck.” Drummer says, his gaze meeting mine. He stiffens slightly as though realising this is going to be hard hearing.
“What happened to Amy?” I rasp, caring fuck all about the other girl.
Amy's Santa: Satan's Devils MC Second Generation #1 Page 5