Secrets Learned

by Raven McAllan

  “Hard, I guess. And I’m guessing the reason you were chosen was because Lonnergan thought you’d do as he wants and Theresa has enough common sense to accept you’d be an impartial observer.” His tone suggested he knew better.

  “You don’t think I will?”

  “I think you’re soon to learn things about yourself that you either never realized or deliberately suppressed. If you dare.”

  “Why if I dare? All it is, is a chat, surely?” She mistrusted the expression that now covered his face. Why did it make her want to squirm in a good and excited way? He flicked the end of her nose then took her chin in his fingers and angled her head so she looked into his eyes.

  “Pet, if you honestly think that, I’m disappointed. However, chat away. You have fifteen minutes. Over to you.”

  Where do I start?

  “Um, well, BDSM? Why here? Why a castle? Why do you do it? What makes someone want to be hit or tied up?” The words tumbled over each other as she tried to formulate all her thoughts and questions. “What makes someone want to be the person that does it and, I mean, why do they say it’s okay and why— Oufft.”

  He’d shut her up by putting his hand over her mouth. Mimi had to repress the urge to pull the soft skin of his palm into her mouth. She could smell the citrus of the soap or shower gel he’d used and something else. His own scent, she realized. Eau de man. No, that wasn’t right. Eau de this man.

  “Breathe, pet. It’s okay to speak in sentences, you know, and take a breath every now and then. Let’s start at the basics. I know I’ve looked over the forms you sent in, but how about you tell me, slowly and calmly, what you know about the lifestyle. Yes?”

  She mumbled—after all, who could form coherent sentences with a hand clamped over their mouth? He chuckled and lifted his hand. “Why do I think not even a ball gag would stop you?”

  “A bal…” She shuddered. “Never in a million years.”

  “A hard limit then.” His tone was humorous.

  Mimi didn’t find anything funny about ball gags. The thought of anything in her mouth was anathema to her. She choked at the dentist’s when he put those horrid cotton wool things in to soak up the saliva.

  Anything except his cock? Where has that thought come from? Hell, she hoped her face wasn’t red. However, the idea made her wet once more.

  Damn, at this rate I’ll need lady pads.

  “Hard? You better believe it, so hard even a jack hammer wouldn’t change it.”

  “Hmm, we’ll see. Okay, time’s getting on. Tell me what you know.”

  Mimi considered her response. Something told her this was more important than any form she’d filled in.

  “Know?” she said slowly. “In reality, I don’t know anything. I’ve read books, and don’t look like that. I saw you roll your eyes. I understand they’re fiction and written for a specific audience. I’m not dumb.”

  He laughed. “That’s for sure.”

  Mimi ignored his interjection. It was that or stick her tongue out, and that wasn’t the impression she needed to portray. “I also know that there’s as much contradiction on what’s right and what isn’t as anywhere.” Her legs ached. Sod it. She moved them into the lotus position and relaxed. “Sorry. I had pins and needles. This is better.”

  “Good, the only discomfort you should have is when I push you out of your comfort zone on purpose.”

  Mimi gasped.

  He smiled. “Believe me. Right, so, as to what you’ve read? Your reaction? To the books and what you’ve learned?”

  “That it’s each to their own. And while I can’t see how anyone can enjoy some of the things I’ve read, I accept they do. The ‘your kink might not be mine’ analogy works with almost anything really. After all, some people like beer, some hate it. Some like movies, others don’t. It really is an individual thing. Life would be boring if we all liked the same thing.” She smiled. “And if it was chocolate, we might run out.”

  Alex laughed. “Very true. And some books are written better than others.”

  Mimi rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. If you believed what some of them said, you’d be a screaming run-for-the-hills nut case before long.”

  “And does anything excite you?” His look seemed to bore deep inside her. It dared her to lie or to prevaricate.

  “Sort of.”

  “Not the right answer, pet.”

  He tugged her hair and her scalp stung. It didn’t hurt. Instead it set off a surge of something she’d never experienced before.

  A different sort of exhilaration? Maybe. Plus pure, immediate interest and a need to discover what next.

  “Let’s get this straight. You will be open and honest or this stops now.”

  Alex’s voice was level and emotionless, but she thought she’d noticed the pulse in his neck beat somewhat erratically. Was it a good or a bad sign?

  “Why should I waste my time, show you things, people and places that you’re not interested in and might make you give a negative report,” he asked levelly, “without understanding or experiencing anything yourself?”

  Mimi swallowed hard, and took another drink of water. That accusation stung, even as the thought of trying something for herself made her pussy throb. Talk about conflicting emotions. “I wouldn’t. Like I said, each to their own.” His inference infuriated her, big time.

  “Therefore, what, pet, is your own? Are you going to play, so you can really say what actually goes on in Diomhair?”

  Damn, I knew he’d ask that.

  Chapter Five

  Alex waited and was amazed to feel his heart thumping and his skin clammy. It mattered. It really mattered how she answered.

  “Can I say maybe?” She bit her lip. “I honestly don’t think I do pain. Well, no, that’s not true.”

  Thank the fuck for that.

  “I should say, I know I don’t.”

  His heart sank again. There’s no bloody chance then, is there? Her next question seemed to confirm it.

  “Do you?”

  Now how should he answer that without sending her away screaming about the crazies at Diomhair?

  Shit, shit and double shit. Tell the truth, be honest and hope she understands, even if it isn’t for her.

  That depends on what you mean by do,” he said with, he hoped, a deadpan expression. “I do it, yes, in that I give it.”

  She went white and swayed. Shit, I hope she’s not going to faint. Even as Alex started forward, ready to catch her, he saw the moment she pulled herself together and straightened.

  “Ah.” She licked her lips. “You hurt people on purpose? What sort of person does that?”

  Such a fucking turn on, and I bet a tenner she has no bloody idea. His cock pressed against his zip and undid the top half inch of the closure. Alex hoped to hell it didn’t slide down any farther. He was, as normal, commando.

  “This sort does it—and there is pain as straightforward hurt and injury, and there is pain that brings pleasure. Not the same thing.”

  “So?” Her voice was hesitant, but the now determined look on her face wasn’t.

  One tough cookie.

  He waited.

  “You’re not going to help me out here, are you, Sir?”

  Alex grinned, inordinately pleased she’d used the title, Sir. “No, pet, I’m not.”

  She shut her eyes, very briefly.

  “Can we look and talk first? Let me see what’s what? Ask about what worries me, please, Sir?” She took a deep breath. Her breasts moved under the thin silk top. “After all, I do need a clear head and open mind to report back.”

  I’m damned sure she’s wearing a bra? What the fuck for, when she has perfect, pert boobs that don’t need one? Armor? God, I hope I can put a stop to that crap. However he guessed he could understand her reasoning and had to admire her for it. It seemed his sister was correct in her deductions. Even if at the end of it all, Dominique decided it wasn’t for her, he rather thought she would give an unbiased account of the lifestyle. But
how he hoped it was for her and she wanted him to show her everything.

  Whoa, I’m a fucking scribing artist. How likely is it that she’ll be the perfect canvas for me? He could live in hope though.

  “Of course you do, and yes, we can. Start asking.”

  Mimi shook her head. “I did. You shut me up.” She sighed. “Typical male. Only hear what they want to. So, do I need to repeat myself?”

  Hells bells, if she is mine, I’ll work on her lack of respect.

  “You need to watch your tone and your words, pet.”

  “Oh buggeroony and sugar.” Mimi groaned. “Sorry, Sir. Okay, let me say—as far as I know—I’m no sub, not likely to want to do anything except watch—if I get to see anything, that is—and ask questions. At what point I’ll close my eyes and decide I need to get out fast, I have no idea. I really am a wuss about pain, even pricking my finger with a needle when I’m sewing a button on is excruciating.”

  Unexpectedly, she chuckled, and her expression was full of humor. “I can’t even watch boxing without cringing, and as for those fly on the wall documentaries about operations and stuff? Not a chance. Put me under and don’t let me surface until it’s all over. Mind you, I can’t see why anyone would go under the knife, so to speak, if it wasn’t necessary. I’ll let you into a secret. I have one tiny black dot on my hip. It was going to be a tattoo of a star.”

  “Was?”

  “Yes, well, like I said, I don’t do pain. I had no idea how much I didn’t, though, not until then. Poor Anders, my tattoo artist friend, caught me as I fell sideways. That was the end of my tattoo.” She shuddered, very theatrically. “You like to inflict it? Why?”

  There was no censure in her tone. Only, as far as Alex could tell, genuine interest.

  “I’m no sadist, but to give that sweet sting is part of me.” Alex chose his words carefully. “Why? I don’t know. I’m not cruel. I don’t pull the wings off flies or torture cats. I love my mum and dad and remember their birthdays. Eat Mum’s apple pie, and go to the pub with my dad, if I’m around, to play darts. I stick them in the board, not someone’s arm or leg.”

  She giggled and rolled her eyes. “That’s one stroke in your favor then, eh, Sir?”

  “It is when I tell you I’ve never beaten Dad at darts in all the years I’ve been playing, and I’m not too shabby at it. He just happens to be bloody good. Plus, I’ve never hit anyone in anger. Well, unless you count a bully at school, who deserved it for picking on my sister. But, as I mentioned, to give you a sting…” His body tightened as he thought just how he’d like to do it. To see his designs on her, to know his careful touch and his pinpricks of pain created such patterns for him to see and her to wear with pride. She was the one he wanted to show how beautiful—and arousing—it could be for both of them. Alex watched the play of emotions cross her face and stifled a groan of dismay. Shit, she hates the idea. I always knew one day I’d meet someone perfect for me, but hell, I never thought she’d be someone who couldn’t embrace the experience.

  Mimi bit her lip hard and opened her eyes wide. Her skin was on fire and her breathing sped up. What exactly did he mean? More to the point, how could she feel dry mouthed and hollow inside with excitement when she didn’t do pain of any kind and she had no clues about what he really meant? “A sting? If pricking my finger is a big hurt, somehow, I can’t see anything you want to do only being a sting. What do you do anyway?”

  “I wondered when you would think to ask that.”

  “I mean, how do you like to inflict the pain? Oh and yes, sorry, you were explaining why you’re not a sadist, Sir. Because sorry and all that, it sounds more than a bit sadistic to me.”

  To her surprise he chuckled. “Second question answered first then, pet. When I see my sub fly from my touch, it fills me with satisfaction. To have given her, or indeed him, the chance to let go, enjoy and discover what they need, is my completion. Each of us have things they prefer. A way, if you like, to express ourselves. Some people give a little physical pain. Others mental. Me? Some might say I give a lot. And in more ways than one. I’d say the pain is pleasure and the end result perfect. So, to answer your first question, I’m no tattoo artist.”

  “Phew. But why do I sense a ‘but’ about to come from you, Sir?”

  “Clever pet. They rest of the answer is that, like I said, I’m no tattoo artist, but my preferred way of expressing myself is in some ways similar, except it doesn’t last.”

  “I’m sorry?” She sounded bewildered.

  “I scribe.”

  “As in you write and make notes?”

  “As in I create pretty, raised patterns on my sub’s skin. I’m a scribing artist.”

  The silence was definitely heavy.

  Damn and hell, what on earth do I say to that? ‘Oh, right’, sounds lame and ‘fuck off, not with me’, sounds rude, even if it is true.

  “With what?”

  He smiled. Mimi’s skin immediately became clammy, but not in an ‘Eugh, I’m going to be sick way’. More an ‘Ohhh, that smile gets me wet in no time’ sort of way. And it scared her.

  However he couched it, the guy liked to inflict pain and she had no intention of being on the receiving end. So why did he make her heart go pitter patter, her clit clench and the pulse between her legs throb like she’d just climaxed hard and fast, apart from making her want to come? If she hadn’t thought he’d see and comment, she’d hold her legs close together and try to ease some of the tension inside her. As it was, the urge to concentrate on her pussy and increase the erotic sensations there so she could enjoy every pulsing second was almost too much to bear.

  Sod him.

  It was more than scary. It was downright worrying.

  “With whatever I fancy.” He took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

  So I don’t run?

  “Let’s get you your look around, eh? Before everyone decides they’ve had enough and either scenes so deeply you might well run, or goes home for cocoa and a good book.”

  It sounded fair enough, and Mimi was honest enough to know everything he’d told her sounded intriguing. Even, to her amazement, the scribing bit. However, she was here to learn about it in general and not how it affected her in specific.

  Not yet. That thought no longer fazed her. She was ready to look, listen, learn and be open minded.

  “Cocoa?” She kept her hand in Alex’s and let him draw her toward the door.

  “Okay, whiskey.”

  “That sounds more like it, Sir. So what do you have in store for me?”

  He grinned. “I know what I’d like to have in store for you, pet, but don’t worry, we’ll not talk about that just yet. Can I persuade you to ditch the bra? You don’t need one.”

  Mimi stood stock still. His hand was on the door latch, but to her relief, he didn’t lift it.

  You what? “Are you saying my boobs are so small it’s an unnecessary article of clothing?” Surely he wouldn’t be so unkind?

  “No, I’m saying no one else will have one on and as far as I can tell, your boobs are perfect and a bra is not needed. Do not put words into my mouth.”

  Oops. Mimi made haste to jump out of the hole she’d just dug herself into.

  “Sorry, Sir. I’m a wee bitty sensitive about my lack of assets up there.”

  “No need to be. They are part of what makes you, you. Rejoice and revel in yourself.” His expression dared her to argue.

  She didn’t.

  “Plus, I think you’ll feel better without it.”

  Mimi considered him. He looked sincere, and she was damned sure he wasn’t the sort of slimy guy who got his rocks off by seeing a pair of bra-less boobs juggling about. She almost sniggered. He’d be hard pressed to see her jiggle anyway. A-cup breasts didn’t do a lot of that.

  “Your assets are part of you and suit your sleek elegance. Don’t put yourself down or, by God, I’ll be tempted to put you over my knee.” He looked as surprised at his words as she felt.

  “Turn yo
ur back then, please, Sir.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “Pardon, pet?”

  “I asked you, Sir, to turn your back. I can’t get the straps out of the sleeve bit of this top, and so, I need privacy.”

  He looked shell-shocked.

  “Pet, it’s a BDSM club. Most nights, bare breasts are the order of the day.” He rolled his eyes. “And yes, that is a contradiction. However, with regards to a woman’s breasts, they are nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  That was as maybe. “You haven’t seen mine.”

  “I will.”

  How the hell could he sound so confident? Mimi was as near to losing her bottle as she’d ever been.

  “Maybe, maybe not, but in any case, not now.” God, she hoped her voice hadn’t wobbled. It was so damned hard not to respond to the ‘do as I say’ tone in his deep, dark and yes, she admitted, enticing ‘come to me now’ voice. “Please turn your back.”

  Alex sighed and stared for what seemed like ages, but Mimi realized was probably only a few seconds. Then, very slowly, he let go of the door latch and turned his back on her.

  “Next time it’s top off wherever and whenever I demand it.”

  Mimi pulled her top over her head, unclipped her bra in record time and shoved it in her jeans pocket before she pulled the vest back on again in double quick time.

  “If there is a next time, and if I agree, you mean. You can turn around now.”

  He whipped himself around to face her and grabbed her by the shoulders. Shit and he says he inflicts pain by scribing. What the hell with? His fingernails?

  “You’re hurting me.”

  “That’s not hurt. That’s holding you so I do not hurt you. Of course if you bloody agree, have you not listened to anything I’ve said so far?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Shit, woman, do you always have to have the last word? Do you like to live dangerously?” Alex’s voice rose alarmingly. “You’d best be glad you’re not my sub. If you were, I wouldn’t know whether to tan your backside so you couldn’t sit comfortably for a week then fuck you senseless, or gag you and torture you by not letting you come for a week.”