by Leigh Lennon
“Sure, Kitten. I have an apartment in the club just as I do in Chicago and New York. I’m from LA, and it’s why I have a home there and a place in London, which had once belonged to my grams.” I stop, and I’ve not answered any of the questions she has yet to ask me, but it’s obvious she needs more. When she huffs out a long deep breath, I put her out of her misery. “We’re going to the club. We’re going to the dungeon. That’s all you’re getting for now.” I pull at her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it lightly.
From the side view, her pout is so adorable and I swear that lower lip is so far pushed out, the whole look is complete. With a smile, it doesn’t bring me pleasure to be like this…Oh, wait, yes, it does. But it doesn’t bring me joy to be an asshole to her. And if I didn’t know beforehand, which I sort of did, I do now. This girl is different and making her mine will mean I need to change a little. Am I up for this challenge? Well, this is the million-dollar question.
Chapter Twenty-One
Eve
This club has a different footprint from the Chicago club. In the heart of Ballard, or at least it’s the area Chadwick calls it, is a large warehouse converted to a beautiful and sleek club. From the outside, as is Chadwick’s desire, it doesn’t boast a BDSM club. Around the building, as is the case in Chicago, is a gate and only a handprint and ID code will allow you entrance.
I’m whisked upstairs to the private quarters for him and the other managers to use when in Seattle. It’s different than Chadwick’s private area in Chicago. When we ascend the steps, there’s an open space in the middle of four small apartments. It’s very sleek with a small bar to the side. He points at a door across from the bar. “This is my private place, just for me.” My eyes are taking in all the beauty of this area. “Maddox, the club manager, doesn’t live here, but he has a place, as do my boys if they ever come visit. We like to hang out up here, and it’s nice to have a place that’s separate from everyone.”
Every time he talks of his best friends he grew up with, I’m amazed at the affection in his voice. I adore this Chadwick, and sometimes, I think I can submit to this man.
We cross over the threshold that leads to his own space. He points at a small room on the other side of the door for me, but I watch him stroll down the hall when he disappears into another room.
I should come to expect, as with all things Chadwick Westbrook, that he has a plan. All I’m told is to take a shower. Hanging on the back of the bathroom door is a black bodysuit that’s a lot more revealing than the one in Chicago. This, of course, has a garter belt attached and thigh-high fishnet stockings.
The makeup is on the sink, and after my shower, I apply it thick, as Taya had instructed me one day when she’d helped me get ready for the dungeon.
Chadwick is waiting for me in his open living room, that marvels everything in the Pottery Barn magazine. He has a bouquet of red roses and hands them to me the second my gaze falls on his.
“Kitten, I want you to know that both of our needs can be met if we’re both willing to bend a little. I want to try only with you, if you can.”
I’m nervous, and because of this, I smirk. “Does that mean you won’t be a dick to me anymore, Sir?” I already have the answer when Chadwick starts to laugh uncontrollably.
“Now, come, come, Kitten. I’ve had thirty years of practice in my dick-like ways. Do you think I can change overnight?” Honestly, I’m not sure I want him to. Closing the space between us, he leans down, placing a peck on my cheek. “By the way, you are absolutely gorgeous.” He twirls me around. “We are doing something different. There’s a VIP room, and I’ve requested a private show with the club’s most committed couples. I want you to see them in a scene from start to finish.” My breath quickens because this is for me. This man wants me to be a part of his life. It’s showing me how I can benefit from BDSM. It’s become so much more in the short time we’ve been together, and this isn’t about him getting his way, but getting me, which is more than he’s bargained for. This has been orchestrated for me and me alone. Moving my hand to my lips, I’m left speechless. No one has ever done something this selfless, and three weeks ago, I would have sworn Chadwick was the most selfish man who lived and breathed.
He continues. “But you can’t make an informed decision without more information.”
I say nothing further, and when he offers me his arm, I follow him from his apartment down to the dungeon.
This club has a modern chic feel with large windows and dark paneling against the wall. His Seattle dungeon isn’t in a basement, like in Chicago, but the colors are the same deep purple. The stage is elevated here with two specific areas next to an open space. One for all submissives under the protection of the club and the other for all collared subs. And unlike Chicago, the private rooms are downstairs. This old warehouse is massive, affording them space for a larger stage.
When I sit down, my eyes wander to all the subs on the floor, kneeling near their masters. An irritation and sting prickles on my skin at me doing this with Chadwick. “Kitten, you’re thinking too loud. All these couples decide what works for them.”
There has been a shift in Chadwick. I have no doubt his douche-like ways won’t come back to piss me off from time to time, but his intuition of my needs and wants have been moved to the forefront of his mind.
On the stage is a Domme with her female sub. “These two normally play in New York, but they were in town, and because they belong to Gio, my New York manager, he had asked them to give us a show.”
The Domme is tiny. If she’s five feet, I’d be surprised, and her sub is tall, extremely tall with bright red hair. His breath lingers at my ear, and with each exhale, my body warms to his closeness. He positions us in a seat to the side of the stage where we get a great view of the upcoming scene.
“Tillie, she was a sub in LA. Her master trained her, bringing out her dominant tendencies. She’s a switch. She does both. She’s with Gio now and is a great example of what a switch does.” My eyes are on the stage and the rattan cane in her hands. And because I’ve been interested in BDSM terms, I understand what he’s saying. I’m kind of proud of myself for this.
My eyes widen with this weapon in the little hands of this woman. She’s going to use it on her sub, who’s standing with her hands at her sides. The girl’s voice loudens for everyone to hear.
“You are a good little girl, Pet,” she begins, and I don’t flinch at this word. I kind of like it. “I love you standing here. I don’t have to tie you up to have your complete obedience?”
“No, Ma’am, you do not.” She stands still, never moving.
“But what if I wanted more, what if I demand more?” the tiny dark raven-haired woman asks.
“I’ll do anything you want.” Ropes instantly fall from the ceiling and another man joins her on the stage. “Your pleasure, my pet. It’s my goal for the night, your pleasure.” The inconsequential man ties her up while Tillie glides a tickler of sorts across her body. “Pet, how does this feel?”
A moan escapes her mouth. A smack brings both the sub and myself back to the moment. “Words, my little Embry. How do you feel?”
“I love it, Ma’am. Thank you.”
She kisses her on the cheek and then moves to her lips, attacking them. The Domme pulls back just enough to watch her sub’s face and then drops to her knees, her finger playing with the wet folds of the sub’s pussy. “This is your reward, and, Pet, you know I love to reward you.” From our vantage point, she’s on her knees under her pussy as her tongue plays with her sub, licking the slick of her cunt.
“Kitten, what do you think? Watching two women get off?”
I don’t have the words. There’s so much passion before me but more—a connection. “Um, are they a couple?” I ask because this is more than a Domme and sub in role play. There’s a love deeply rooted within them.
“Well, it’s complicated, but if you are asking if there’s more, there is. I’m not sure the story, but yes. I’m sort of happy yo
u picked up on all of this,” he whispers in my ear. Happy is not a word Chadwick Westbrook says, but this man next to me is Chadwick Westbrook 2.0, so I’ll take it.
I’m watching awestruck as her finger and tongue are bringing this girl to a feral-like arousal when Chadwick grabs my hands, hoisting me up.
“Come on, Kitten. It’s time for our VIP show.” I hold on tight to his hand, but after watching the care and love exchanged on the stage, I’m apprehensively excited.
The door is locked, but it doesn’t stop Chadwick. With a swipe of his card, we’re granted access. A drape in front of the door like one would see at a hospital is covering our entrance while I faintly hear jazz music behind it.
“This is further protection from any lookie-loos in the hall.” Somehow when he says lookie-loos, he’s not the tough and rumble Dom I’ve always imagined, but a sweet little boy who only wants the attention of his parents, something never granted to him.
I hold back a smile because he’ll question it and be on guard from showing me his vulnerability again. “There are two couples in there tonight. They often play together. Both are fully committed. They have completely different relationships. I want you to see both of them scene together.” He kisses me on the bridge of my nose.
It's odd that as close as I feel to this man and the way he excites every part of my body, I’ve yet to kiss him. His mouth hovers over mine, but I don’t give in to my desires. “Good girl,” he comments, and this seems out of place to me.
“What?” I ask, and with a glare, his almost black eyes have me on warning. “What, Sir?”
“You want to kiss me. I know it like I know every little expression on your face. And I’ve not granted it, and you didn’t push, so you’re a good girl.”
He’s in his Dom role and not his normal douche-like ways. This Dom-like jackass is different than the assuming asshole—transformed and with a purpose. In some ways, this is a man I can follow. This thought enters my mind, and immediately, I’m scared I’ll like the scene too much. He pulls at my hesitation, and I give in, following him through the drape.
On a small elevated stage in the center of the room, two girls are suspended from the ceiling. What’s the word for it? Shivalry? Oh, shit, it’s not that. Chadwick has told me, but I can’t remember.
Two men, or Greek gods most would call them, are sitting on a long purple velvet couch that matches the furniture in all the clubs I’ve been to. They’re watching both women, never taking their eyes off them.
We don’t say a word while we sit in a smaller loveseat that’s just big enough for the two of us. One of the men, the blond, stands up and nods to Chadwick. In my peripheral, Chadwick nods back. “Holy shit, is that…?” I don’t get my words out when he hushes me. But I don’t need the question answered. It’s Thaddeus Lawson, a hall of fame football player from Miami. He approaches his girl, with matching blond hair, and kisses her on the cheek.
“My everything, you know I love you, right?” The tone of his words exudes the love this man has for her, oozing from his lips.
“Yes, Master. I love you, too.” He has a rattan cane, and with one swipe to her thigh, she squeals and laughs. She fucking laughs. “Again, please, Master.” And he slaps her another time. “More, Master, I love your marks on me.” I gasp. The head of the other man turns my way, but I don’t recognize him.
“Kitten, please don’t interrupt the scene.” I want to say so much. One being I can’t help it. I fucking can’t help it because of it being so erotic.
Thaddeus continues to swing the cane at her, and after a couple more blows, her voice leaves her mouth. “Please, Sir, no more.” And he immediately stops, dropping the cane.
He kneels before her, rubbing the spot I see forming even in the darkness of the room. “Mine,” he calls her. I love this so much more than slave because mine is such a graceful way of marking her without demeaning her.
“Mine,” he continues. “Tell them how you feel—what the cane does to you. How it helps you and why.” He points out at the crowd, but Chadwick and I are the only ones here.
She’s still suspended, and her eyes move toward me and only watch me. Can this get any weirder? What am I thinking? All this has been strange from the moment I walked into Chadwick’s office weeks ago.
“It’s freeing, and it’s sensual, carnal. It’s easy because I trust him without question. I know I’m always safe with him.” Her speech is breathy and labored. She winces when his fingers find their way to her slit. And though I had a great view with the women on the stage, my eyes are given access to her sex as he works it in a circular motion. Her head flies back when she cries out.
“Pretty.” It’s another name he calls her that I also love. “You aren’t allowed to come, not yet.” His tone is sweet, not demanding.
“Please, Sir?”
“No, Pretty, everything I do for you is for your own good. Let it ride out. Hold onto it, it will be fucking amazing. Hold on, my sweetheart.” Like the dominant girl on the main stage I watched earlier, he kneels, and though his head blocks him as he eats her out, her face now leaning forward tells me how erotic this is. She bites her lips and whimpers. “Come, my pretty.” Her cries carry throughout the room, as she lets out her release.
I don’t remember my hand in Chadwick’s, but I look down, and he’s stroking it tenderly, caressing my knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “If you need to play with yourself, Kitten, you can.” He pauses. “They won’t mind. It’ll turn them on more.” But I can’t. Not because I’m embarrassed. Working on myself will impede my own pleasure watching them at this moment in time.
The quarterback’s girl works through her orgasm, which seems to spread through her slowly and is riding out as her Dom promised her it would. The other man walks on the stage, and I have almost forgotten about his partner suspended from the ceiling when he grabs something from a closet, and Chadwick and Thaddeus help him move it to the elevated area where this show is taking place. If I were to guess, it looks like a vault for a gymnast, but I would almost wager she’s not going to perform a gymnastic dismount. They settle it on the stage. Thaddeus releases his girl from the ropes and approaches Chadwick.
“If it’s okay with you, I think I need to take care of Felicity.” He has his huge arms encompassing her.
Chadwick nods, and as they leave, his girl, Felicity, can barely stand. Leaning over to Chadwick, I ask, “Is she okay? What does he mean take care of her?”
He pulls me into him since this must be the intermission of our little show. “Kitten, Thaddeus is probably one of the most caring dominants I know. He knows when his girl is about to experience sub drop. He’s going to care for her, showing her he’ll always put her needs before his.”
“I don’t get it. What will he do?” I inquire.
He smiles, and when his eyebrows arch and he snickers, his arrogance shows through. “You know nothing about BDSM.” This isn’t entirely true. I did know what a switch is, but compared to Chadwick or most in this lifestyle, the answer is no.
I want to continue with, “No shit, Sherlock,” but I don’t and wait for more of an explanation.
“It’s called after care. He’ll pay full attention to her, tending to all her needs. It’s done for many reasons, but one is to help with the sub drop.” He stops, his head cocked, attempting to read the look on my face. “I’ll explain sub drop to you later. Now, we’re going to watch Mitchell and Nola.”
I thought the girl looked familiar. These are the most recent reality stars from Marry Me—where they’re matched through a dating service, and they have two months to decide if they’re soul mates. They never disclosed this sort of kink on the show, but of course, the network might have frowned upon it. I laugh at my inner dialogue.
“Listen, they are different than Felicity and Thaddeus. Mitchel is a different Dom, a bit rougher but remember, this is all stuff they’ve agreed to, and if it ever gets out of hand, she says her safe word and it’s over.”
The man takes his
wife, pushing the front of her body against the leather bonded board, on her knees. She’s naked, but she’s stunning. There is something about her. Besides being beautiful with gray Ombre hair, she’s tall and lean.
“Is the bench made specifically for her?”
A small smirk forms on his face by all my questions. “Not exactly. First off, there is foam under the leather, and I have three in the closet for various sized women or men.” His hand startles me when he squeezes my knee. “What are you thinking, Kitten?”
“She looks happy.” It’s hard to explain because I don’t know her from Adam, yet it’s clear there’s a peace in her eyes.
“People choose this lifestyle and whether they’re a sub, a switch, or a Dom for many reasons. She is happy. Plus, her husband loves her fiercely.” My mind is on Chadwick’s words when a loud smack has my attention back on the couple in front of us.
“Tell me, slave, what do you want? What do you need from me tonight?”
“Hurt me, Master. Mark me. I want to see your love on my legs tomorrow.”
I learned from the last time not to make any noise, but Chadwick leans down when I shudder at her words. “It’s always consensual, Kitten.”
The flogger hits her bare ass again and again. As quickly as he smacks her ass, he’s down on his knees worshipping Nola, rubbing the marks he made on her. He pulls her off and adjusts the little bench she’s kneeling on and moves part of the contraption back, so Nola is almost lying down. Her husband pulls down his pants and enters her with such velocity, I’m stunned. “Don’t you fucking come, not until you’re granted permission, slave.”
Her moans are deeper than the woman before. “As I take you hard and deep, tell them what you love about this.”
Her head moves to me, her eyes talking directly to my soul. “I don’t have to think, I feel. Everything he does is because of me and just for me.” She, too, has labored breathing when she turns to her lover, looking back in his eyes. And it had been the same words of Lila Barron from earlier.