by Poppy Flynn
With that final bolstering thought, Laurel strapped on a pair of skyscraper heels to boost her confidence and set off on the drive to Club Risqué.
Connor sat at a table close to the bar with his colleague and co-owner, Logan Thornton. Logan was the Blackwood lawyer and he'd had his work cut out for him recently with the restructuring of the new club and the vast volume of work that had gone into organising the legal side of the business, not only with the obvious conveyancing, but also with the number of different kinds of contracts that had needed to be drawn up and overseen. It was sensitive work, too. Not the kind of thing you could just draught any lawyer into doing. There was a lot of delicate manoeuvring and non-disclosure involved, which meant Logan had needed to shoulder the bulk of the workload on his own. Connor knew that it had taken its toll and the least he could do was buy his old friend a drink.
Micah had come to join them, naturally enough, Connor supposed, since he was their manager, even if nobody else was aware of the situation. He still felt that vague sense of discomfort, similar to last night, and was trying to mentally shake it off while they sat there doing nothing more than passing small talk.
Directing his attention to Logan instead, Connor noted that his friend had discarded his spectacles and let his shoulder length hair free from the leather tie he normally tamed it into a queue style with. This was his 'club persona', where he stepped away from the 'lawyer image' that was his usual look and embraced his alter ego 'Master Baku, the Shibari expert'.
"Are you playing tonight?" Connor asked curiously. Logan was less prolific in his hook-ups than the rest of them, his real love affair being with the rope he liked to use to tie up and suspend a submissive with, rather than women themselves. Logan was one of those Doms who embraced the art and the skill for his completion rather than sex, itself. He could quite happily play with a woman with nothing more intimate going on than swathing her in his ropes and still be completely satisfied. Connor could almost envy him that degree of detachment.
"Actually, I'm showing Luanna around the club," he replied, taking Connor by surprise. "I'm just waiting for her to finish her tour of the locker room facilities with Trinity."
"Luanna Morgan, the Finance Manager?" Connor couldn't help but ask. He hadn't seen that coming, but it didn't seem to be any surprise to Micah. Had Connor been so wrapped up in his own little bubble recently that he'd missed what was going on around him?
"The one and only." Logan grinned, looking happier and more boyish than Connor had seen him in forever. "We got off to a bit of a bad start last week, when I brought her here the first time, but Trinity saved the day, so we're back for another attempt. Just looking around for the moment, but I'm hoping something more will come of it." He turned more fully to Micah. "She may well want to speak to you, too, get her head around some things, but I'm not sure that's quite so much of an issue now that she's had Trinity to bounce a lot of her questions off of."
"No problem. You know I'm available, any time, if someone's struggling with the concepts of the lifestyle or the boundaries of the relationship. I know that can be difficult when they bleed into your working life."
Was it Connor's imagination or had Micah flicked a quick glance his way when he had offered that last insight?
Whichever it was, Micah said no more as Luanna walked towards them with Trinity, the former looking a far cry from the usually calm and serene business image that she usually portrayed, dressed, as she was, in fet-wear which highlighted and displayed her assets.
Neither man could miss the light that came into Logan's amber eyes as he watched her approach and Connor and Micah shared an amused, knowing look between them. Looked like another one of the team was about to bite the dust and take a dive into permanence with a woman.
A small smile played at Connor's lips, one that he noticed Micah shared. It might not be right for himself, but Connor truly did silently wish his friend the very best of luck.
Logan excused himself and whisked Luanna away without waiting for introductions and Connor wondered if that was because his own presence might have made things awkward, considering she was not only a work colleague, but technically one of his department, which made him her boss right now, even if only temporarily.
Their departure left him and Micah alone, which Connor felt vaguely uncomfortable with, though he wasn't at all sure why. They had been friends for a long time before Micah had agreed to come and work for them…well, more accurately, until he'd finally caved in to the kind of generous offer that only a fool would refuse.
Regardless, Connor was overwhelmingly relieved when Trinity came to sit down in the space Logan had vacated. She was Micah's assistant manager and Connor and the rest of the guys had made the decision to bring her here from the south coast Club Risqué where she had proved herself to be absurdly underutilised as bar manager. She might look like a pixie with her short and spiky, bright red hair and tiny stature but, anyone who thought that, would be severely underestimating her.
"I've got a problem," she sighed as she sank into the comfortable seat. "I have a scheduled appointment in thirty minutes for an out of town visiting guest member who requested to be set up with a scene," she reported, tapping her subtly manicured fingernails against the table in obvious irritation. "It's nothing too involved, just a straightforward spanking, and she initially said she had no preference by whom it was given, so it was scheduled to Mistress Erin."
Micah frowned. "I've seen Mistress Erin, so I know she's here," Micah replied. "Has she been double booked?"
Connor frowned along with Micah, wondering what had gone wrong but he kept it quiet. He might own the club, but he wasn't going to muscle in on the day to day operation, which they had employed these two people to oversee. Even if they were the only two who were aware of his true identity.
"Oh, yes," Trinity confirmed. "Erin is set up and ready. The problem is that the client has just contacted me to say she's changed her mind and she wants to scene with a man!"
"Can Erin swap with anybody?" Micah queried.
Trinity shook her head. "I've already been over the schedule twice. There isn't anyone else available. I've even contacted Xavier, but I haven't managed to get hold of him. The problem is that it's such early days that we haven't finished verifying Master status or signed some of the newer Doms off that are doing the training." She pursed her lips and gave Micah a considering look. "I was wondering if you could do it?"
Micah heaved out an audible breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "You know I'm not exactly free, myself," he answered, taking a look at his watch to check the time. "Cha-cha will be here any minute." He referred to the sub he was currently training, himself. "I really don't want to have to side line her again unless I really have to. There are already too many occasions where she's forced to play second fiddle to my responsibilities here, and she's very accepting of that, but this isn't fair on her. She's a paying client, just like this other member." Micah shook his head and his long, curling hair shone blonde where it caught the artificial light, giving him the look of a stereotypical 'surfer dude', rather than a respected manager and psychologist. Looks could be deceiving.
"I have a contractual obligation to Cha-cha, and as such, she has to be my first responsibility. I can't just overlook that for the sake of another member."
Trinity blew out a breath and rubbed her hands over her face. "There are a couple of Doms who haven't been signed off yet, but it's just a question of verifying the paperwork. I could ask one of them to take part in the scene…"
No!" Connor interrupted. "Absolutely not. It may well only be a formality, but I'm not scheduling anybody who hasn't completed the process. It sets a precedent that could have damaging consequences in the future."
"Then we'll have to cancel," Trinity said grudgingly. "I just wish it wasn't this particular woman we were cancelling on such short notice," she confided. "She can be a bit of a nightmare when things don't go precisely her way, even if she's the one to blame for the situation, a
nd she's got a lot of clout. It's not the kind of bad press we need in these early days." She rose to go and make the arrangements, but Micah's next words stopped her.
"Well, there is another option." Micah's shrewd dark eyed gaze fell on Connor.
Trinity shifted her interested silver eyed gaze from one man to the other, a single eyebrow raised in question.
"Connor might be able to take the scene. He isn't in a relationship and doesn't have a contract with anyone," Micah offered to his second in command before turning his attention to Connor. "And you made it quite clear to Xavier last night that you and Fluff are both free agents, with no obligations to each other."
Trinity frowned, and so did Connor, himself. Damn Micah, it was almost like he was issuing some kind of challenge, daring Connor to prove himself and his position in relation to Laurel. Bloody head shrink!
But all of that aside, this was business. Even if Connor did have a contract with Laurel, he would still have explained his intensions to go ahead and take the scene. The success of this new venture rested and relied on keeping their clients happy and doing everything within their power to try to cater to their needs.
Connor turned his attention to Trinity to verify the situation. "So what are the specific parameters of this scene?" he queried.
"Just a warm up and a hand spanking, for which the client will provide verbal cues, nothing else," Trinity established. "She doesn't even want aftercare. In fact, she specifically asked that it not be included."
So, nothing intimate, Connor thought. Well, there were those who considered a hand spanking relatively intimate, he supposed. But no intercourse, no climax to worry about. It was fairly undemanding as far as scenes went, in which case, it would be worth it to keep the woman happy. Especially if she had a reputation for being difficult.
"Over knee spanking or apparatus?" Connor enquired, checking his watch. After his scene with Laurel yesterday, he felt that he at least owed her an explanation, even if there was no contractual obligation between them. That was just plain courtesy. Plus, she needed to know that he was planning to take care of her later in the evening. They hadn't made any specific arrangements, but it had been implied. The trouble was the scene with the client was due to start in less than twenty minutes, and Connor had no idea what time Laurel would show her face. He had expected it to be earlier than this, if he was honest with himself, if for no other reason than to finally claim her release. Unless, of course, she'd simply defied him and his instructions and just taken care of herself. The idea made his mouth turn down at the edges and preoccupied him enough that he almost missed Trinity's response when she told him a spanking bench had been reserved for the scene.
Laurel walked into Club Risqué without the carefree confidence she usually felt when she breezed in through the doors for the second day in a row. She knew she was being irrational and probably slightly paranoid, but she just felt as if everyone was watching her. Could they see all the possession marks that she had taken such great pains to try to conceal? A vague sense of humiliation burned insistently at the back of her mind. It was the one thing she had a real problem with. She didn't even really know why, except that it was perhaps a slight reaction to the fact that people tended to see her as a bit of a dizzy blonde, based purely on her appearance and her love of life, and regarded her accordingly. Laurel hated being treated as if she had no brain, as if all that somehow made her less of a person. She hated the stereotype with a vengeance.
Not seeing anyone she knew, Laurel decided to bypass the bar and go straight upstairs. She was unaccountably nervous. The last two evenings at Club Risqué had been nothing short of amazing—even if she had gone home unsatisfied and accompanied by a boatload of sexual frustration, rather than with Connor, himself, she couldn't help feeling that tonight was going to be the culmination of something huge which would have far reaching effects on their relationship. Subsequently, the jitters she was feeling in her stomach were making her jumpy and anxious.
She climbed the stairs, avidly searching for Connor, all the while trying to look as if she was not. She trailed past the private rooms, but being Saturday night, prime time, they were all already in use. She didn't stop to observe like she normally would have done. She was far too impatient, and she certainly didn't need any extra stimulation right now; that was for sure. Despite the anger and humiliation of finding herself covered with hickies, she already felt like her satin and lace bikini briefs, which she had worn for extra coverage to hide the bites on her butt, were about to spontaneously combust. Okay, so yeah—perhaps there was a tiny, minute little part of her deep subconscious that was secretly pleased that Connor had chosen to cover her in the marks of his own possession for everyone to see. And even if she had done her best to cover them up, Laurel knew they were still visible to anybody who actually bothered to look.
Instead, she headed directly for the dungeon, still trying her best to look nonchalant, even while her eyes flew around the room looking for Connor.
When she finally found him, the breath was knocked completely out of her body and she fervently wished that she had not.
There he stood, for everyone to see, tall, well-built and conspicuous, by one of the most prominent spanking benches, right in the middle of the room. Bent over in front of him was a beautiful brunette, her chest heaving as she panted and screamed, her ass high and red from the spanking Connor was giving her. There was the usual crowd of voyeurs and spankos watching the scene, and Laurel couldn't contain the prickle of tears that burned behind her eyes as she took it all in for herself. Connor was bare chested and, from where she stood, it looked as if the top button of his leathers was undone and the laces that contained his crotch loosened as if he was preparing to plunge his cock into the woman any moment now.
Laurel started to shake in reaction. Jesus, she had to get out of here. There might not be any contract or any promises between the two of them, but there was no way she could bear to watch the man she loved shove his dick inside another woman. She wasn't that much of a masochist.
The humiliation that she had been struggling to contain rushed up and enveloped her in a cloud of buzzing black thoughts as her presence became realised by some of the club members who were aware of the link between herself and Connor. She could see the speculative looks and whispers that were spreading between them all, even though she could barely hear anything for the volume of white noise that was hissing in her ears.
Laurel watched helplessly, nausea churning in her gut as, just before Connor himself was alerted to her presence, he pressed his groin against the submissive that was whimpering and writhing in front of him. Oh God! He was fucking her!
At that very moment, Connor looked up and saw her. His lips twisted in a rueful smile, and Laurel dragged in a shuddering breath and planted her feet in a concerted effort to keep herself upright as pain, so vicious and fierce, stabbed through her chest, that she actually looked down, irrationally expecting to see blood from the wound that must surely be there. Laurel stopped herself from rubbing at the very physical ache; she would not allow him the satisfaction of seeing how this was affecting her. The bastard.
Spinning on her heel, unable to watch any more, a shaft of white-hot anger washed through her body from head to toe and a blinding heat suffused her face and prickled at her neck, replacing the icy chill that had immobilised her body.
Well, two could play at that game, Laurel seethed. She'd show him and everyone else in this place just how much she didn't care. Even if it was a lie. None of them would ever have the satisfaction of knowing it.
Searching wildly around the room, Laurel looked to see which unattached Doms were available to play. She'd find her own damn satisfaction, damn him, and Connor could watch while she let some other Dom get her off after his hours of teasing.
Oh, yeah, if he thought she'd sit quietly and wait patiently for the culmination of yesterday's scene while he played with another woman, he was going to be very sadly mistaken. No one made a fool of Laurel S
tanton, and if they did, then it would only happen once!
Looking around, Laurel saw Masters Flynn and Cameron. Oh, yes, they would do nicely, Laurel thought bitterly. Two Doms for the price of one. See how Connor liked that!
Five minutes later, red faced humiliation washed over Laurel once again as the two men had looked her over, catalogued the number of possession marks that were visible to their intense scrutiny, and gently, but firmly, stated that they thought she should wait for her own Dom to see to her needs.
She had argued, of course, that she didn't have a contract or a Dom, but that had only made them look at her with disapproval as well as pity. The combination had been too much, and Laurel had slunk away, stuck between the idea of getting her own back and just running home with her tail between her legs in abject misery.
No, damn it. She would not be subjugated! Steeling her spine once again, she took another look around and set her sights on Master Storer.
Chapter 14
Connor looked around, desperately searching for Fluff. He knew it was bad form when he was in the middle of a scene with another submissive. But this was purely business and Connor wanted to make sure that Laurel knew that. He had left strict instructions with Trinity to explain the situation and let her know that he would be with her as soon as he was done here, since she hadn't arrived before the designated appointment time had come around with the client and it was very clear that Vanity Spanx—yep, that was the name she had given—was not the kind of woman you kept waiting. Connor wasn't even convinced she was a submissive, even a bratty one, despite the fact that she had identified as such. The best way he could think to describe her was as a 'spankophile', since she was very vocal and demanding in exactly what she wanted and how it should be delivered, even to the extent that she dictated such throughout the entirety of the scene, right down to demanding that he rub his crotch against her burning ass cheeks.