by A. W. Scott
I agree with a tilt of my head. While waiting, I watch more as the two bartenders struggle to keep up with the large crowd.
“Mr. Jamison?” At the sound of my name, I turn to look at the man behind me.
His expression is welcoming, though a bit exhausted. It looks like he’s been running around for a while now. His suit coat is gone, his sleeves rolled up. There’s a smudge on his hand from pen ink, almost as if he’s been going over paperwork.
“That’s me. You must be Rob.”
“I am. I’m the manager here. Patrick was tightlipped about you.”
His comment startles me. I shrug, sincerely unsure of how to respond. “I don’t know why he would be. I’m here about membership.”
Rob looks at me intensely, then laughs. “I’m not sure that’s it. Follow me. I got special permission to use this entrance for you from the bosses since their both… preoccupied.”
The way he says the last word lets me know all I need to.
I follow behind him as he weaves his way around the club. At a side wall, we move behind an alcove area to a hallway. There’s a door down the hall with a lock on the front. Rob pulls out a key, then unlocks it. We walk inside, then he turns to lock it behind us.
At my perplexed stare, he says, “Never can be too cautious.”
I nod, then watch as he crosses the room to yet another door.
Security here seems excessive.
He pulls out a different key this time, then turns the lock and opens the door. “Have a seat at the chair over there. Patrick will be right with you.”
Moving around him, I see an office that parallels the one we’re in, only a bit smaller. Everything is almost identical with a few unique touches to fit the owner.
“Thank you, Rob. I appreciate your help.”
“No problem. Hope it goes well for you.” He closes the door behind him.
I hear a lock clicking sound. It’s at that exact time I realize that I’m locked in a room alone waiting for a man I don’t know.
This would be the perfect opening to a scary movie.
Chapter 9
Patrick
Waiting for Tucker became a test of my patience. We only spoke about forty-five minutes ago, but I’ve checked my watch thirty-two times since then. I know it will only get worse the closer it gets to his arrival.
I decide it’s best for me to go out on the floor, maybe make nice with a few of the patrons while I avoid looking at the clock.
Five minutes in I get tangled in a conversation about the best products to use for healing sore skin. Then after that I’m stopped about rope materials and Shibari styles. By the time I come up for air, I realize that my plan to pass the time worked a bit too well.
Stomping back to my office, I open the door, angry with myself for the slip. I come to a stop at the sight before me.
In one of my chairs sits a gorgeous man. He looks at me questioningly, his eyes wandering over me as if he recognizes me.
“Have we met before? I could swear I know you from somewhere?”
I shake my head no. “That’s not possible.”
He laughs suddenly, and I’m transported back in time.
That laugh. The vibrance.
He’s the guy from the diner. The one I couldn’t stop staring at.
And here I am again, enraptured by his beauty.
“I’m Tucker Jamison. You must be Patrick.” He stands, then reaches his hand out for mine. I shake it without a second thought.
The touch of his skin is electric on mine. I’ve never felt this instant rush of connection before. Lust, sure, but never the need to overcome someone completely.
“Yes, that’s right. I’m Patrick. Have a seat and we can get started.”
He goes back to his spot across from my desk, his eyes following my movements as I pivot around to take my seat on the other side.
“Tell me about what makes you want to join the club. I read your paperwork, but I want to hear it from you as well.” I sit back, vowing to be as professional as possible even if my dick is ready to claim him from just one look.
“It’s just as I said there. I’ve known that I am a Little for a while now. I just ended a bad relationship where I wasn’t able to express that side of myself. I haven’t felt much of anything these last few weeks. Lewis came by my place. We talked for a while. He suggested I be a part of this to connect to the half of me that I’d pushed down for so long. He thinks it will help me feel again.”
“But do you think it will?” I ask, curious to what he thinks.
“I’m honestly unsure. I’d like to try, but I think it will take more than my normal Little time to help me break this feeling.” He pauses, his eyes going glassy. I want nothing more than to wipe the tears away and then pull him into my arms.
I don’t.
Not yet anyway.
We sit for another half hour discussing various things. His experience with his Little side. His likes and dislikes. Every word he utters lines up with the application.
You see, sometimes people lie. And then when they end up in the environment of the club, they break. They fold and clam up.
I don’t want that to happen to him.
So I question him thoroughly. More than I’ve ever questioned anyone else before.
He passes each one with flying colors. I watch him closely, noting the things he seems most excited about along the way on the form on my desk. When we finish, I realize I was right all along.
Tucker Jamison is my perfect submissive Little.
He’s sweet and soft, while also being loud and outgoing, the latter of which comes when he feels most comfortable with someone. He’s a brat at times, a fact he openly admitted. And most curious of all, he’s interested in the types of play that I love.
“I think you’re a good fit for the club. We can have someone walk you through orientation and then we will present you with a partner to explore with until you feel comfortable to be with another member, or until such a time as you have a partner who would enjoy the benefits of the club.”
Reciting the speech I give for approvals feels like acid in my mouth. I don’t want him with anyone else. I want to be the only one touching him, pleasing him.
“Wow. I didn’t think it would be that fast of a response. When do I need to do the orientation part? And what do you mean partner? Is this someone I would have to sleep with? I’m not sure how that would work.”
His nervousness is cute, though unnecessary. I’d never let anyone hurt him or make him do something he isn’t comfortable with.
“Well, the answer to that depends on what you want and what your comfort level is. If you want to simply explore what it is to be Little, then sex isn’t something you have to be concerned with. I know and have been part of couples where there is no sex in the Daddy/Little connection. If, however, you want to explore all of the things you indicated on this form, then yes, sex would be something to explore. You have a wide variety of things you’re open to.”
“I’ve made a promise to not limit myself anymore. There are things I know that are hard noes for me, but other things, things I’ve dreamed of but never experienced, are what I’m open to explore and grow with.”
I stare across the desk at him, proud of him for speaking up. “That’s a good mindset to have. We have a variety of partners that can help and guide you through the process. You could meet with them one-on-one to decide who is the best fit. I will admit that not many of them know everything there is to offer, so you may have to move around.” At his panicked expression, I add quickly, “That doesn’t mean you need to sleep with them or anything. For instance, we have only two Shibari masters - myself and DeMarco. Therefore, I would suggest DeMarco be the one to assist you, especially since safety is of the utmost priority.”
“Do you not train?”
His question makes me freeze, my eyes moving from the paper on my desk and back up to him.
“Excuse me?”
Tucker squirms in the seat, hi
s gaze unsteady for the first time since I walked in the room. “I just wondered why you mentioned that both you and DeMarco train, but you immediately pushed me off to him. Do you not train members? If not, then why mention it?”
Why did I mention it? That is the real question.
“When we first opened, I was the only experienced person in every area. I’ve been in this for almost as long as you’ve been alive. Since we’ve located a trainer for each section of the club, I only assist as needed and even then, I’m only a teacher, never a participant.”
“I can’t work with DeMarco,” he says with a firm tone.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not able to come in the nights he works.” I see a trace of defiance in his expression.
“I haven’t even told you his schedule yet. How would you know you aren’t available yet?” His confidence wavers for a second before he puts back up his walls.
“Does it really matter? I’m asking for you to be the one to help me.” He stands from the chair, then paces back and forth in the small space. The energy surrounding him is electric as he flutters to and fro, his body shaking with suppressed energy.
“Why, Tucker? I need to know.”
He turns to me, his eyes telling me more than words ever could. “You’re the first person who has spoken to me and just gets it. I don’t have to explain to you like I did Miguel or Lewis. I don’t worry that you’ll take advantage of me like my ex because this would just be business. You’re really the perfect candidate for it.” Pausing, he closes his eyes tight. When he opens them again, they are filled with fire and hunger. “And there’s just something about you, Patrick. I want to do what you tell me to, even when I’m feeling the need to be especially ornery, like now. But I want to please you and make you proud. I’ve never felt the need to do so this deeply. I’d be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t take the chance.”
Standing from my desk, I walk over to where he’s frozen. His eyes widen the closer I get to him. My hand reaches out to take one of his hands between mine.
“If you choose me to do this, I can’t guarantee that it will go well. I feel an odd level of possessiveness around you. It’s a strange feeling for someone like me who is used to not needing others in such a strong way.”
“You need me?” His voice is delicate, as if he’s afraid he’ll startle me.
I nod, my fingers running over the soft skin of his hands. “I need to consume you... to devour you… to train you. And I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough if I start. It’s a slippery slope that I’m not sure I can take without either of us getting hurt.”
Tucker’s free hand comes up to cover mine. He looks at me pleadingly, breaking through the resolve I’d just refortified with my speech.
“I’ve already felt hurt. It’s not new to me. What I want is to feel something else. Even if it ends badly, I still want to try.”
“If we do this, then it would be different from a normal club agreement. I would have stipulations that aren’t above board with Lewis or Mateo.” He nods, encouraging me to continue. “As my boy, you would be one hundred percent mine. I will not share you. Even if it wasn’t sex, your attention would be devoted to me. In return, I’d give you the same. All of my teachings would be rescheduled to another trainer. You would also need to understand that everything I instruct you to do would be for your own good. You may not like what I request of you, but you’ll find that in the end it benefits both of us. Your obedience would be rewarded often. Likewise, your disobedience would be punished.”
“Punished,” he breathes out.
“Yes.” I barely refrain from using an endearment. I don’t want to push until I have his full agreement. He needs to decide this without the endorphins a Little gets from their Daddy praising them. “Together we would find a punishment that is appropriate for you and within your limits. Once that’s determined, you would receive some variation of it each time you disobeyed instruction.”
“I understand.”
“Do you though? I worry that you might not.”
The defiance from before comes back and he tries to snatch his hands from mine. I don’t let go. Instead, I bring them to my chest, and therefore gather him closer to me. Leaving one hand over them, I move the other to hold his hip steady.
“I’m well aware of what you are asking of me. Nothing you said is unappealing. I may not like the discipline aspect when it comes, but it is part of the dynamic. It’s a part I’ve never gotten to experience fully. I want it all this time. I don’t want to sell myself short, Patrick.”
“You will not call me Patrick when we are alone, will you?”
He swallows thickly, his throat bobbing roughly with the action. “No, I wouldn’t.”
Leaning forward, I dip my head to hover over his ear. My hand on his hip squeezes possessively. “What would you call me?”
“Daddy,” he purrs the word out, his head tilting back in full submission.
He’s a fucking temptation I can’t withstand.
My nose runs up the side of his throat. I inhale his scent, the soft fragrance of soap and a distinctly masculine aroma that must be unique to him.
“What would you like me to call you?” I whisper the words as my lips hover over his. I pull back slightly, observing the way his eyes attempt to refocus on me. “Would you prefer Boy? Baby? Sweetheart? Angel? Kitten? Vixen? Little One?”
He moans at the last one, his hands shaking against my chest as his eyes close tightly. “That one. Please, Daddy.”
Giving into temptation, I kiss his forehead. “Ok, Little One. You’re mine now. Daddy will take care of you.”
Chapter 10
Tucker
I have a Daddy.
Fuck, me. Is this real life right now?
Inhaling the aroma of Patrick’s cologne and feeling his hands on my body tell me that this is indeed very, very real. I’m not sure which of the gods I appeased, but I’m feeling rather thankful.
“What now, Daddy?”
He’s still super close to me, his mouth a mere few centimeters from mine. If I swayed forward, I’d close the gap easily.
But I want to be his good boy.
At least for now.
He’ll meet the brat within me later. He’s never too far away, especially when he gets told no. Hopefully, we make it through a few sessions before things start to shift.
“Would you like to visit one of the sections of the club tonight? It’s not one where you would need to participate in any way. You can simply watch and observe. We could visit there to see if it’s something you like.” He sweeps away some hair from my forehead as he looks into my eyes questioningly.
“What kind of room is it?”
“It’s a room where you watch other people. They please each other in front of an audience.”
“Like a voyeur room?” He nods, a smile ticking at the corner of his plump lips. I want to nibble on them until he begs me for more.
“If you’d like, yes. We can move there to observe before I take you home for the evening.” I raise an eyebrow at him, surprised at the forwardness, but also eager to do as he says. “I meant to your own home. Alone. We will not dive into everything right away. I want to take my time with you to explore what you need.”
“I’d like that. And the room. Can we go now? I want to see what the ‘other side’ looks like.” He laughs at my use of air quotes.
“Of course. Maybe next time we can visit the Daddy room, too?” I practically bounce out of my seat at that suggestion. He lifts my hands to his lips, then places a kiss inside of my palm before tucking it into his hand and turning for the door.
I follow without question.
The door he came in opens to a hallway, much the same as the other side of the club. This one is shorter, and there’s a bouncer type of guy near the entrance to the hall since this one is a bit more visible. I imagine it’s to prevent people from thinking it’s the bathroom or something.
“This way, Little One.�
� I shiver at the use of my new title. I knew the moment he said it that I’d need to hear it from him again. It created a delicious tingle throughout my body, one that I want to repeat over and over again.
We weave through the groups of people gathered around the open area. I see the bar area off to one side, though this one is much smaller than the other side’s was.
The clientele on this side is distinct. People are dressed in a number of different ways here as well. No one is outlandish, but there’s definitely some obvious variance in the wealth level over here. They all seem to drip money without much effort.
A few people try to stop Patrick as he moves around, but one glance at me and our hands and they hush. I get a simple head nod of acknowledgement, and then they turn away.
He leads us across the room to a door with a sign on it. I see the words ‘Watch Room.’ He opens it, directing me to walk inside in front of him. As much as I appreciate his chivalry, I don’t like the idea of not holding his hand anymore.
Not wanting to cause a scene by disobeying, I release his hand and cross the barrier. Inside, there are a number of chairs and even a couple of chaise pieces spread around a singular area in the middle. I notice only a few other people inside the room, some paired up, but even more single.
“It will fill up after the show starts. People tend to like to walk inside here as if they’ve just stumbled into something naughty. It’s part of the game they like to play.” He speaks the words lowly to me, his lips tracing over the shell of my ear.
That delicious tingle I felt in his office returns, and along with it, my cock decides it wants to join the party. I’m thankful the room is dimly lit and he can’t see the effect he’s having on me right now.
“This way.” He grabs my hand again, making me almost sigh with pleasure.
How can a hand cause such a strong reaction?
We move over to a side of the room that has less people in it. Patrick puts us in the back, but positions us to where we can see everything clearly. The center has a glass enclosed area with one of the chaise lounges inside of it. There’s a bright light inside of it, allowing nothing to be hidden.