She’d expected more sympathy from Kathleen though. Being the eldest child living at home at the time, Kath had seen exactly how she was being treated and had actually tried to speak up for her once when her Daddy had carted her off to the cellar. She’d only received a whack across the face herself for ‘daring to question Daddy’s authority.’ She never tried again after that.
Tuesday often wondered if the real reason she was singled out was because she wasn’t as pretty as the rest of the girls in the family. Her hair was mousey and quite non-descript, being just straight and boring, and she had pale green eyes, not even the color of bright emeralds like the twins’ or sparkling peridots like Niamh.
She was surprised to see how late it was getting. With her first smile of the day edging across her face, she quickly pulled on her jeans and a shirt and got ready for work. She spent most nights in the dungeon at Collar and Cuffs, whether she was working or not.
Her mind drifted back to last night as she fixed herself a snack and grimaced at the thought of seeing Master Dan again. He was bound to want to talk still, but she wasn’t having any of it. No, she’d try to avoid him at all costs, though it was the last thing she really wanted to do. Maybe he would be far too busy with his new project to worry about her anyhow, and he might have already attracted some new Doms into the club with any luck, though she knew she’d never find one as handsome as him.
Service was quite easy that night, with a real quiet diary. In a way Tuesday was disappointed as she had been hoping to be kept busy, but she found time to crack a few jokes and get the guests laughing, which was always good. Dominic threw her a few odd looks though, and she knew he didn’t approve of her sense of humor.
“You’re on form tonight,” April muttered to her as they waited in the line.
“It’s the way I tell ‘em,” Tuesday replied, although the bemused expression on her friend’s face told her that she had no idea that she was doing an impression of a famous Irish comedian. April had obviously never heard of Frank Carson!
None of the waiting on staff was particularly busy, and Tuesday took the opportunity to engage them in a bout of face-pulling whenever Dominic Ray wasn’t looking. Summer and April were giggling non-stop, especially when she stood behind certain customers and did facial impressions of them. She loved making her friends laugh.
“Will yous be wantin’ coffee?” she asked a very well-to-do couple who sat on one of her window tables.
The woman looked at her disparagingly. “I don’t think so, thank you.” She rose from the table elegantly. She had an expression like someone who had just smelled sour milk, and Tuesday couldn’t help imitating her to the delight of the other staff.
She could feel Dominic’s eyes boring into her and she turned around to see that he had a face like thunder as he glared at her. Oops! Tuesday smiled as innocently as she could in his direction, reveling in the giggles of the waitresses.
“Be careful how you speak to the guests, Tuesday,” the Maitre d’ told her after holding her back at the end of service yet again. “They don’t mind a little harmless banter now and then, but don’t overdo it. And don’t ever let me catch you pulling faces behind their backs again… you were lucky it was me who saw you and not that woman!” His voice was calm but stern, and she knew he was legitimately annoyed with her.
“Yes, Sir.” The words fell out of her mouth as usual, but she didn’t even try to put any feeling behind them.
Dominic stared at her curiously for a minute before dismissing her.
He wouldn’t fire her for having a laugh with—or even at—the punters, or guests as he preferred to call them. She made her way to the changing room and caught up with Summer there.
“Are you going to the club tonight?” the curvy blonde asked with a grin.
“Yep, can’t wait,” Tuesday replied as she removed her black thigh highs.
“Master Nathan said they’ve got some new members in,” Summer told her with a smile.
“Great. We could do with some fresh blood.” Tuesday pulled on her short skirt and skimpy top as she followed her friend toward the elevator. She’d even removed her panties tonight out of pure devilment.
“Are you going to behave yourself if you get someone new?”
“Hell no! Where would be the fun in that?” Tuesday grinned at her friend, and Summer hooted with laughter.
“You’re dreadful,” the blonde told her, giving her a friendly punch on the arm.
“I do my very best.”
They soon stood in the doorway to the busy Bottom Bar.
“Jeesh, just look at this place!” Tuesday gazed around approvingly. “Master Dan’s sure taken his new project seriously.”
“He’s good at his job,” Summer agreed, looking pleased at the number of new faces in tonight.
“So am I,” came a deep voice from behind them, and they both jumped around to see Master Nathan smiling at them.
Tuesday grinned. He looked gorgeous in his leathers and black shirt. Quite a change from the suits he wore during the day while he worked in the Finance Department. She watched him tilt Summer’s chin up to force her to look at him before he took her mouth in a lingering kiss.
Not one to play gooseberry, the Irish girl slipped away and made her way to the bar where she ordered a drink. There were several men sitting at the counter, and she made a point of staring right at them instead of lowering her eyes.
“Don’t you usually show respect to a Dom?” a voice growled at her.
She looked at the guy who had just shoved in line next to her. He was a good-looking dude, with short dark hair and neat stubble on his chin, but everything about him screamed “rookie.” His leathers smelled brand new, and his shirt looked like it had just been removed from its packaging. Tuesday grinned. This could be fun…
CHAPTER THREE
“It depends,” Tuesday replied cheekily as she sipped her coke.
The guy looked really annoyed. “On what?”
“On whether I’m speaking to a real Dom or one of those wannabe Doms we get in here from time to time.” She smacked her lips together noisily.
Just then Master Dan appeared by her side. “Be careful, Tuesday. We’ve got a lot of new members in tonight, who won’t be used to your ways,” he warned her kindly as he took a tray of drinks from the bartender.
“Don’t worry, Master Dan. I’ll be grand, sir,” she assured him as she took another swig of her drink.
He chuckled and left the bar, shaking his head.
“So you have respect for him, then?” The guy next to her sneered.
“Who? Master Dan? Of course I respect him—he’s a really good Dom, probably the best in this place.”
“How would you know that? You haven’t seen me in action yet.”
She sniggered. “I don’t need to. Master Dan’s been here a long time; he knows exactly what he’s doing.”
The guy stood up, his face turning red. “I’ve had enough of this, sub. You haven’t shown me the slightest respect since you arrived. It’s time you learned your place. Get over on that spanking horse!”
Tuesday took another glug of her coke, studying him closely for a minute. He was really good-looking. He looked really pissed with her too, which made her feel quite triumphant. “Is that your way of asking me to play?” she asked with a sing-song attitude.
“That’s my way of telling you what to do!” he snarled, towering over her with his hands on his hips.
Tuesday nodded. “OK.” She hopped down from the stool, leaving her drink on the bar, and followed him over to the bench.
She stood looking at him expectantly.
“I’m sure you know what to do,” he grunted irritably.
She grinned as she leaned over the cool leather. He snapped the cuffs onto her wrists. “You will call me ‘master,’” he instructed, and went to cuff her ankles.
“But you’re not my master, or anyone else’s by the look of it,” she protested. “If you’re a Dom I’m just playing wit
h shouldn’t I call you ‘Sir’?”
“Silence, sub. I’ll teach you to answer me back!”
Tuesday felt slightly panicked as she heard him swiping a single-tail through the air. Although there was actually enough room to use a whip in this section, the bench was usually only used for spanking. She contemplated informing him of this, but there were more urgent things he needed to know.
“We’re using the traffic lights and my left ankle’s too tight,” she told him quickly.
He paused. She heard his footsteps as he returned to her, and she sighed with relief.
“You need to run your finger around the inside of the cuff to make sure there’s enough room,” she told him helpfully.
Instead of doing as she said, he leaned over her and hissed into her ear. “Don’t you dare try to tell me what to do, sub! And I told you to keep quiet. You’ll pay for your insubordination.” His voice sounded quiet but fierce, and she felt a little disturbed at first, but then reminded herself that she was in a safe place, and, anyway, he was just proving how much she had managed to wind him up. She secretly congratulated herself.
A second later she heard the whip cutting through the air before landing with a sharp whack on her back. She jumped, surprised that he had hit her so hard, and couldn’t stop a yelp escaping her lips. He seemed satisfied at her reaction as he did it again and again. She knew he would relish her screaming out so she purposely kept quiet after that, biting her tongue.
“Hold on a second, Jenner.” She heard Master Dan behind her and relief swept through her whole body.
She felt his large, warm hand on her leg as he tried to tuck his finger into her cuff. “This is far too tight,” he told the guy, Jenner it seemed, sternly. “Loosen it off.”
“I did tell him, Master Dan,” she informed him. She really wanted to mention that they hadn’t even discussed limits or anything before they started playing either, but didn’t wish to look like a tell-tale.
“I didn’t hear her say anything,” Jenner muttered sulkily as he adjusted the cuff.
Dan checked the rest of her restraints. “Are you comfortable, little one?” he asked gently.
“Yes, Sir.”
“OK, carry on, but go easy on her. Remember you don’t know each other yet.”
She heard his footsteps leave her and felt oddly bereft. She guessed he hadn’t gone far though, as Jenner was a little lighter with the whip on her back. She smirked, glad he couldn’t see her expression. It was a comfort to know that Master Dan was looking out for her.
After a few minutes the strokes became harder again. Instead of tensing up against the pain, she tried to relax into the soft leather of the bench beneath her. She let the sting wash through her, smothering her worries and freeing her mind. She could hear the music in the background and the soft moans of people around her, but the irritable grunts from the man behind her kept pulling her back to the present. He sounded angry and exhausted.
After a while he came back over to her, hissing into her ear. “You trying to make out it doesn’t hurt, sub?”
She realized that he was really pissed that she hadn’t cried out for a while. He had been trying to really hurt her!
Her dazed mind whirled with confusion, and she was only vaguely aware of him unfastening her cuffs and lifting her into the air. She didn’t feel inclined to wrap her arms around his neck, as she did with Master Dan, or any of the other Doms for that matter. He didn’t make her feel safe and warm, or even secure in his arms. Master Dan had a strength which gave her confidence to relax into his muscular frame, but this guy made her feel as though he would drop her at any minute.
“God you need to lose some weight!” he muttered as the room whirled around her.
He didn’t carry her to the soft sofas, as she expected, but out into the corridor. He turned and made for a room she hadn’t been in before. He flicked on the light and she winced. It was more like a closet than one of the offices or playrooms. He quickly let go of her and she fell unceremoniously to the hardwood floor with a heavy slap. It brought her to her senses and she stared up at him in disbelief. Before she had chance to speak he gagged her and then replaced the cuffs before hogtying her. Shaking her head, she tried to yell but the gag was too tight.
“Dumb cow, I don’t have all night to teach you how to respect a Dom.” His voice was a vicious growl which resonated in her mind. “I’m supposed to be scouting a good place for our little insurance policy, not teaching manners to insolent sluts. The last thing I need is Saunders on my back.”
Tuesday struggled against the tight cuffs, hoping this was all one big joke.
“Enjoy your club while it lasts, ‘little one,’” he mocked as he pulled away from her.
She stared in horror as he left the room, flicking the light switch on his way out. The sound of a key being turned in the lock dragged her back to her past, and she slumped helplessly onto her side.
The darkness closed in on her, cramping her in the tiny space. She could hear his footsteps as he walked away, fading to nothing, leaving her completely alone. She recalled that sound. Just like her daddy walking away after locking her in that dang cellar.
They lived above a pub her parents ran, and the cellar was right down a steep set of concrete steps, under the bar room. No one heard her when she screamed and yelled. If the pub was closed, the family was on the top floor, far away from the damp basement, and if it was open, the jukebox would be playing and patrons would be laughing and shouting, making far too much noise to hear her cries for help.
She learned after the first few times that making her throat sore and her voice hoarse was useless. It wasn’t as if no one knew she was there—the family was well aware of her punishment. Her own fault for making a spectacle of herself. Her daddy told her she was always fighting for attention and needed to learn that she wasn’t worth their time. The truth was, she realized later, she was vying for recognition because she didn’t get any. There was nothing outstanding about her; she wasn’t the youngest, the eldest, or one of the beautiful twins. With the rest of her siblings having left home already, she was the odd one out. She wasn’t clever or cute or even pretty. She was just Caoimhe.
For years she continued to try to impress her parents, to make them notice her. It did no good. When she got frustrated that they hadn’t congratulated her on a good school report, or made a fuss because she passed her cycling proficiency test, she would stamp her foot. Daddy would grab her arm and drag her back down to the cellar. Out of sight and out of mind. Yet again he would remind her that she was an attention-seeking brat and not worthy of their time. He would tell her that the rats and mice were the only ones who would want to spend time with her.
Tuesday never made a secret of what was going on. She rang her older brothers and pleaded with them to stop him. To give him his due, Padric tried. He got really angry with Daddy and they had a huge row about it. In the end, Daddy threw him out and told him never to come back. She managed to talk to him on the phone occasionally afterward, but Padric didn’t come home again. It was a pity because she really liked him and missed him like mad. After that the others didn’t want to get involved. Ashling told her she probably deserved it, and she actually began to think that her eldest sister was right.
She began to believe that she really was bad, that she deserved to be treated this way. It was all her own fault. She would sit in the gloom for hours wondering why she was alive at all. Over time she came to prefer the beatings over being shoved down among the rats. At least that way someone was paying her some heed. Still, when the secret waitressing job she’d picked up to get out of the house had an opening in the States, she didn’t think twice about making her escape.
That job led to Collar and Cuffs. Between being trained in silver service and all the fun of the Bottom Bar, it soon became her home.
Now it had become her prison cell. She had thought she had escaped to the land of the free, but here she was right back where she started—alone, locked away in the
dark.
She didn’t know this room existed. It was small and dark and smelled of must. Her limbs ached from her position and the cuffs cut into her skin. The tears had long since stopped falling, and she didn’t waste her energy trying to struggle or make a sound. Even though her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she couldn’t see anything. There was nothing to see. It was just empty space. She stared into the nothingness as her mind whirled with dread and fear. The darkness shrouded her in a cloak of doom and suffocated her.
She was literally finding it hard to breathe. A hissing noise in her ears drowned the sounds of the club, and she felt panic slowly growing from somewhere deep inside her. Panting for air, she was sure she was going to die. Fear gripped her like a vise, and she screwed her eyes tightly shut as she waited for death to take her. A wave of agony washed over her body, and she willed it to be over. She wanted it to end, for her life to finish. For every thought, every memory, every fear to be cleared from her. Her whole being was intent on willing it to happen. Now. She was silently screaming into the darkness as she felt as though she was falling, swirling around like a leaf on a winter’s day.
But it didn’t end. It eased. She was rocking to and fro mindlessly. The darkness was there, but instead of the fear there was nothing. She wasn’t sure whether her eyes were open or shut. The darkness remained as thick as ever. Her head was clear; no thoughts were haunting her now. Everything was still and quiet. In that moment she wasn’t sure whether she was in heaven or hell…
CHAPTER FOUR
Dan Parker was annoyed. Roland Dexter, the Managing Director and owner of Collar and Cuffs, had been on his back all day about the damn membership surge. He had been eager for Dan to raise the membership of the club for some time, but there always seemed to be other things to take precedence.
Like helping keep the place staffed, for one thing!
Waiting on Tuesday Page 3