Getting Rowdy: A Club Irons Novel (Irons Series)

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Getting Rowdy: A Club Irons Novel (Irons Series) Page 4

by Drew Sera


  “Can I get a volunteer?” Paul asked and approached the group.

  His eyes scanned the applicants, and just to my right, a hand went up. Anthony’s. Fuck, goddam. Anthony probably thought he was being helpful for the benefit of the class. But I knew Paul wanted Anthony to volunteer.

  “Excellent. Our brave, youngest applicant. Come over here,” Paul said and pointed to a spot just behind where he stood.

  We’ve never done a demonstration with applicants as the test subjects. Another Master or Mistress steps into that role. Mistress Melissa stood to the side with a look of surprise, unsure of where Paul was going with this.

  Paul showed the applicants a few different types of floggers and then put his arm around Anthony’s shoulders.

  “Anthony, have you ever felt the kiss of any of these implements?”

  Anthony shook his head. He was going to “test” them on him. What the fuck?

  “If you would, take your shirt off and stand right over there.”

  Paul instructed Anthony to stand under the spot where a cable hung from the ceiling and then turned to address the group. I was waiting for the talk regarding what Anthony would be doing in the demo and if he still wanted to proceed. Paul didn’t address Anthony with this info. Instead, he started talking to the class.

  “Always pay attention to your bottom or sub. By testing these implements and experimenting with them, you will know what to expect. You will still need to pay attention to your bottom, or sub. They might be very fair skinned and therefore will have the tendency to redden. Our brave volunteer doesn’t seem to be too fair skinned, so he should be okay.”

  Paul approached Anthony and asked for his wrists. He began wrapping them with rope and then stretched Anthony’s arms above his head and attached it to the cable overhead. Anthony’s back was facing the class.

  “You like rope, so this won’t be so bad. Fuck, that’s a nasty scar if I’ve ever seen one.” Paul said to Anthony.

  Even though his tone was much lower, I could still hear what he said. I could see Anthony testing the cables to see how much give he had with them. He quickly found out that he had no wiggle room. Anthony pulled one side of his body away from Paul’s reach.

  “Don’t touch it,” Anthony said quietly.

  Paul smiled and put his hand on the back of Anthony’s head. Goddamnit. He knew Anthony had a trigger now.

  “Anthony, this is just for teaching purposes. I’m not going to hurt you. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Paul picked up a flogger and showed it to the crowd. He explained the material the falls of the flogger were made out of and demonstrated by swatting Anthony’s upper back with it. I alternated my focus between three things: Anthony’s hands that were bound above his head, his back and Paul’s demeanor.

  After Paul had shown the applicants various floggers, including a studded flogger and braided flogger, he did something so despicable that it was hard for me to comprehend what had happened until it was done.

  “Remember, sometimes ordinary, everyday things can be used as an implement,” Paul said to the crowd just before he undid Anthony’s belt, pulled in from the loops, folded it in half and made contact on his back with it.

  The clanging noise from the cables drew my attention to Anthony’s arms. His hands were red fists, and his biceps were flexed tight. I pushed my way through and entered the stall.

  “Red.”

  I moved toward Anthony and began undoing the rope that bound him to the cable. I glared at Paul and then at Anthony’s face. He was breathing hard and staring to the side with his brows furrowed and creases in his forehead.

  “Who can tell me why this scene should never have taken place?” I addressed the applicants.

  Once Anthony was loose he quickly moved to the side. Mistress Melissa crossed the room toward Anthony, picking up his shirt as she went. She began talking to him, though I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I did, however, see the scar that Paul referenced earlier.

  I was furious. I returned my attention to the quiet group of applicants.

  “Every single one of you is experienced in some facet. This isn’t your first scene or demonstration you’ve witnessed. If not one you can tell me why this should never have proceeded, then you can leave. You don’t deserve to be here.”

  The dungeon was deathly silent. Either they were afraid to answer or didn’t know the answer. And if they didn’t know the answer, they have no place in my club. I glared at Paul for having made such a monumental, dangerous mistake.

  “He didn’t ask me what my safe word was, or if I had any spots to avoid,” Anthony said.

  I looked over at Anthony and felt like I owed him my own apology for having let that demo carry on. His shirt was back on, and even though his head was up, he wasn’t looking at me. Maybe he felt embarrassed. Ashamed even. I nodded in agreement with him.

  “By not asking Anthony what his safe word was or if he had any triggers or physical limitations, Paul failed to ensure that the scene would be safe. That is precisely why that scene should not have occurred.” I paused and looked at the group of five applicants that weren’t able to come up with the reason. “You’re dismissed. Good luck to you and I encourage you to take some classes on safety.”

  The five of them mumbled and slowly left my sight.

  “Blake, there were some good candidates in that group,” Paul pointed out. “Anthony, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Paul began to walk by me toward Anthony, but I held my arm out. I didn’t want Paul near him right now. I needed to step back and assess what was going on with Paul. This was very out of character for Paul to act like this with an applicant.

  “Paul, can you please meet me in my office?” I said calmly to him.

  He hadn’t moved, but stared at me and then at Anthony.

  “Since I botched the scene, I need the opportunity to fix it. Let me check his back and see if he needs anything. That’s my responsibility, Blake.”

  “Mistress Melissa and I will check on him, and then I will be in my office. Please just wait for me there.”

  I turned my back to Paul so he would know that I wasn’t discussing this further right here. Paul directed an apology toward Anthony right before he left the dungeon.

  “Sweetie, let me see your back,” Mistress Melissa said.

  Anthony pulled his shirt up, but not off, so she could see his back. I picked Anthony’s belt up off the floor and stood beside Mistress Melissa. His back was very red, and there were tiny patches of broken skin. He wasn’t bleeding anywhere, but some pin hole spots had appeared to have blood drawn to the surface.

  “Anthony, we should get this cleaned up. Would you come with me to the first aid station?” Mistress Melissa asked him.

  “I can find it on my own, thank you.”

  As Anthony began to leave the stall, I stopped him and handed him his belt. I was a bit concerned about him because after I let his arms down from the cable, he seemed very disconnected. He appeared distracted, bothered, and he was almost hesitant to take his belt.

  “Keep an eye on him, please, Melissa.”

  I headed to my office and found Paul sitting on the couch when I entered. I shut my door quietly and sat down behind my desk.

  “Explain to me what the fuck that was all about, Paul. Since when do we use applicants for demo purposes like that?”

  “Blake, we use applicants often for demo scenes.”

  “Not without telling them what you’re fucking doing before asking for volunteers!”

  Paul threw his arms up, expressing his frustration. I was frustrated too and tried to calm down.

  “What you did was dangerous. Aside from not asking Anthony what his safe word was, you didn’t ask him if he had any limitations…physically or mentally.”

  “Fuck, did you see that scar on his side?” Paul shifted the focus of our conversation a bit, but I brought it right back to where the focus needed to be.

  “Yes! Even more of a reason why you failed epi
cally with that demo.”

  “He could have stopped me and told me…”

  I cut him off.

  “He’s twenty-two years old and is trying to learn. First and foremost, you were the experienced Dom in the fucked-up scene. It was your responsibility to make it a safe scene.”

  “You didn’t have to let all those other applicants go. There were some good candidates in that group.”

  “I’m aware of whom I let go. Liabilities, Paul.”

  He and I were quiet for a few minutes and finally, he spoke.

  “I’m sorry, Blake. I should have explained the demo and then asked for volunteers. Then I should have gone through the proper protocol for setting up a scene.”

  “Make sure you learn from this mistake.”

  I hope he heard me loud and clear.

  After Paul had left my office, I sat back in the chair and thought about our Masters and Mistresses and the applicants.

  I knew almost without a doubt that many members of my board would most likely be willing to take Anthony under their wing. Most of them have already expressed an interest in him.

  While that was comforting, it was also something I needed to be mindful of. I had a variety of people on my board, all involved in different dynamics and aspects of the lifestyle. If we had an applicant that was a sadist, typically the sadists on the board would lean toward that applicant. But when all board members were interested in this one very young man, something in the back of my mind told me that while they all were drawn to something different, they also saw one thing in common. Moldability.

  He was very young, and his experience in the clubs couldn’t have existed much past two years. Anthony was very level headed, in my observation, and I think he was mentally tough enough to make his own clear decisions…as long as the decisions were his to make. But if he was steered in a direction, I’m not sure how well he’d do. Nearly all the members of my board were expert mind fuckers, and that concerned me a bit in regards to Anthony. He was a fresh, young mind that was eager to learn and experience. And it was my job to make sure this was going to be a positive experience for him.

  I began looking at some email and found the updated background checks on Anthony. Both came up clean. Again, I wondered where this young man was coming up with his money. Everything was pointing to his mother having left him money.

  I had so much on my mind tonight. The doctor who had met with the applicants was coming by the club soon to give me the reports and go over any points he felt I should know about. All while that was going to go on, the remaining applicants would be shadowing the Masters and Mistresses as Dungeon Monitors.

  I had a lot to take into consideration with regards to the applicants. I’ll scrub all of the info tonight and then meet with all of the board members tomorrow to begin the selection process.

  I glanced at my watch and knew that Jerry, the psychologist would be arriving any minute now, so I headed downstairs to the main room. I notified my front desk and let them know where I was at so when Jerry arrived, they didn’t have to go searching for me.

  Mistress Melissa was standing near the bar, and I headed over to ask her about Anthony.

  “Did he get his back tended to?”

  “I went to the first aid station, and they said he hadn’t checked in. I’ve been looking for him, but haven’t found him yet.”

  Fucking son of a bitch.

  I looked at my watch. Anthony knows to be here for shadowing tonight. I would give him some time, but guilt began to eat away at the lining of my stomach.

  Chapter Seven

  April 1996

  I hung out in the bathroom for a few minutes and prayed no one would notice that I didn’t go to the first aid station. I was okay.

  Master Luke was doing a session on rope outside, and I really wanted to attend. I was mesmerized watching him make the basic patterns and then watching the more involved ones. There was only one other person in attendance with me, so we received a lot of individualized attention.

  Despite really wanting to get the most out of this class, I wasn’t able to concentrate. I wouldn’t say that I was confused about what happened earlier, but I wasn’t entirely clear either. I thought that things were going fine until Paul pulled my belt off. When he hit me with it, I wanted out of there. I was angry at myself for having volunteered without fully understanding what I was volunteering for. I wanted to show that I wasn’t afraid to get my hands dirty and learn something. Blake was mad. I could tell.

  “Careful there, Anthony,” Master Luke said, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I looked down and realized that I had just made a bunch of knots with my rope. Fuck. Way to go dickhead. I apologized and unraveled my mess.

  I took a few moments and tried clearing my head. I tried what my dad always tries getting me to do; calm down, relax and concentrate on breathing.

  Come on, Graves! Pull it together!” I practically begged myself.

  I gathered the rope as Master Luke showed us at the beginning of the class, and took it back to him.

  “Thank you for taking the time to show me some rope patterns and also for the care of rope.” I held the rope out to him, but he didn’t take it.

  “Is everything ok?” he asked.

  Why would he ask? Did he know about the dungeon? He couldn’t…could he? Did I look like something was wrong?

  “We could work on rope patterns all afternoon if you’d like, Anthony.”

  Fuck. That under normal circumstances would be great, but right now I really needed to be alone for a while. I needed to clear my head and prepare for this evening.

  “I’m sorry, Master Luke. I’m not feeling well, and I think I need to rest before this evening.”

  “Are you sure everything is ok?”

  “Yes, sir. I just need to lie down.”

  “Do you need a lift?”

  “No, sir. Thank you, though. I’ve got it covered.”

  My arm was still outstretched and held the rope. The longer I stood there, the closer I desperately needed out of there.

  “Keep the rope, Anthony. Bring it with you tomorrow, and you and I can go over the stuff you will have missed from this afternoon.”

  Shit, that was awfully nice of him. I nodded my thanks and ran up the path to the club and quickly made my way to the lobby. I called a cab from the guest phone and waited outside. I paced back and forth to keep my feet moving.

  Not soon enough, I was back in my hotel room and flopped on the bed.

  “Fuck!”

  I pushed myself upright and stayed still until the stinging subsided. I should have known better. I pulled my tee shirt off and went to the bathroom to examine it.

  “Fuck me!”

  I knew I was breathing hard and tried to focus on something else to calm myself down. All I could focus on though was my back that was on fire. I looked around for something that would help. Maybe I should have stopped at the first aid station after all. I might visit the first aid station as soon as I get back to the club for some of that soothing lotion. I walked toward the window and looked out. Reaching out, I felt how cold the glass was on the back of my hand. I turned around and pressed my back against the cold window.

  “Fuck!”

  While the window was cool and soothing, when I stepped away from it, the burning feeling intensified. I was a fucking pussy. I changed for tonight and went to grab a bite to eat before catching a cab and going to Irons. I hoped that I hadn’t blown my chances.

  When I got to the club, I quickly found my way to the first aid station which was downstairs by the care stations. I pulled my shirt off, and despite it being very uncomfortable, I let the lady rub the lotion over my back. I pulled my black t-shirt on and headed back upstairs to find the person I’m supposed to be shadowing tonight.

  Chapter Eight

  April 1996

  “Thanks Jerry for taking care of all the evaluations so quickly.”

  “My pleasure, Blake.”

  I shut the door to
my office and sat down, and we jumped right into it. I asked him right off the bat about Anthony Graves. Jerry began shifting through his notes and opened the page that contained his notes on Anthony.

  “He’s your youngest applicant.”

  I nodded my confirmation and remained silent, waiting for useful info that I didn’t already have.

  “He was very calm and answered all of my questions, but he became a bit tense when I asked him about his family and upbringing. He clearly wasn’t comfortable talking about them. He doesn’t have any siblings, and it appears all he has left is his biological father.”

  “Any idea how that relationship is?”

  “Anthony was very locked down regarding his family. Nothing stuck out at me regarding him. Nothing popped up as an anger management issue. He’s calm, but I will say that for someone to be as locked up about his family, might have a reason to be.

  I narrowed my eyes at Jerry.

  “English, Jerry.”

  “He might have something dark in his past. Something to warrant him to not want to talk about his family.”

  “No family is perfect, Jerry.”

  “Agreed.”

  Jerry and I conversed for a while longer about other applicants, but I felt like I was beginning to put some pieces of Anthony together. I almost told Jerry that I feared Anthony may have been triggered today while participating in a demo that never should have taken place. It was weighing on my mind, and I really needed to find him and talk to him. I was somewhat concerned because Melissa couldn’t find him earlier and he hadn’t gone to the first aid station.

  When I walked Jerry out, I asked the front desk if Anthony was checked in.

  “Yes, sir. He checked in about an hour ago.”

  Now I just needed to find him. I went into the main room and glanced around. He wasn’t up here. So, help me God, if Paul has Anthony shadowing him, I just might send Paul home. I was headed downstairs when Luke came over.

 

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