“He does.” Dix nodded morosely. “But I’m so yesterday. Sure, I’m a pretty face, but that guy is like Stan’s equal, not some high school dropout with a GED. Sure I got an associate’s degree, but still…”
Outrage filled Piper. How could he possibly think he wasn’t amazing? “You’re a skilled physical therapy assistant, Dix. Every person you care for asks to have you back. That just never happens.”
“I think Stan knows what a prize he has in you,” Abby chimed in. “The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; he adores you.”
Dixon sighed. “For now. It feels like we’re…I don’t know…growing apart.”
Feeling anger rising, Piper sipped her drink. If Stan didn’t wise up, maybe she’d have a little talk with him.
“You know, Zander’s jobs often drag him away for a week or two. When he gets back, or if we feel disconnected or”—Lindsey smiled ruefully—“have been arguin’, we visit Dark Haven and, you know, catch up. Flogging makes the ass—and heart—grow warmer, right?”
Flogging? Piper choked. “What’s Dark Haven?”
Lindsey’s eyes widened. “Oh, hell, I forgot you were here, I mean, I knew you were here, but I forgot you were…weren’t…”
“Dark Haven is the finest BDSM club in the city,” Dixon said. “Abby’s husband owns it.”
“Dixon!” Abby’s professorial glare should have turned Dixon to ash. “Uh, Piper, it’s not like that. Okay, yes, it is like that, and Xavier does own the club, but he wouldn’t… No one at our house will beat on the cleaning crew or chef, and we wouldn’t leave anything embarrassing out in the open.”
After a second of surprise, Piper realized that, first, Abby wasn’t sober either, and second, she was worried the BDSM stuff might frighten away Chatelaines.
Piper giggled, and how unprofessional was that? She frowned at her glass. That margarita stuff packed a kick.
“Ho, I just bet My Liege keeps lots of embarrassing stuff at home. Can you imagine the maid’s face?” Dixon lifted his voice higher. “Ms. Abby, I thought these ropes were to hold your black satin sheets in place, only they seem to be attached to the headboard. Or…or…”
Snickering, he held up a hand. “The dog walker gives Blackie a ‘pull toy’, and you figure it out when Xavier realizes his leather gag is missing.”
As the women burst out laughing, Abby’s light complexion turned bright red.
“We’re all fairly normal,” Rona said to Piper, still chuckling. “Please, don’t kick Abby off your client list.”
“No worries there. To be honest, I’ve been looking for ways to show that Chatelaines welcomes alternative lifestyles.” Piper shook her head. “People shouldn’t have to worry that people entering their homes are judgy or close-minded. That’s just wrong. We’re in your space, not ours.”
“See,” Dix crowed. “That, right there, is just one of the reasons I work for this woman.”
“Whew.” Abby slumped back in her chair. “Thank you, Piper. That’s a relief.”
Rona eyed Piper. “You know, one way to show you’re kink-friendly and to gain new clients would be to put your business card on the Dark Haven bulletin board.”
“That sounds great.” Piper beamed. “Would you—”
Rona shook her head. “The rule is that the card has to be put there in-person. Not by someone else.”
“Awesomesauce.” Dix bounced on the couch, almost spilling his drink. “That means you have to visit the club.”
“Oh God no.” Her horrified response netted her four sets of eyes.
Lindsey lifted an eyebrow. “That didn’t sound kink-friendly.”
Blunt Texans. Piper rubbed her hands over her face. “No, it didn’t, did it? It’s like this…” And then the words dried up. How could she explain? Did she want to explain?
Abby studied her for a second. “Could it maybe have something to do with that past relationship you spoke of?”
“Wow, you’re really good at that sociology stuff.” Piper realized someone had refilled her glass and took a healthy swallow. “The relationship was”—another gulp eased the constriction in her throat—“with a Dominant. It wasn’t a healthy one.”
When Dix took her hand, totally supportive, tears burned her eyes. “Sorry, sorry.” She blinked hard.
“Did you get help afterward?” Rona asked softly. “Counseling?”
“I did. Really.” For a little while. “God, I was a mess, and it helped. It’s just… Although the counselor understood abuse, she didn’t understand why I willingly entered that kind of relationship. She thought submission was a sickness all its own, so I ended up stopping.”
Lindsey’s mouth dropped open. “Whoa, little doggies, no wonder you’re sensitive to being judgy about your client’s choices. You’ve been there.”
“Yes.” Piper eyed the fluid in her glass. “I’m doing fine, really. But sometimes I have trouble being around… Well, you know how some Dominants kind of exude power with every word?”
Every person in the room grinned.
“I have trouble with that. Sometimes.” Although she’d done all right with Ethan…eventually. Piper half-smiled at Abby. “Like when I was at your house.”
“Ohhhh. Is that why you left before I could even ask you to stay for dinner?”
“That’s why.”
Abby lifted her eyebrows. “You took Ethan on as a client. How did that go?”
“Better than I thought it would.” Piper smiled. Especially after she’d realized he was her champion.
“Was Sir Ethan nice to you?” Dixon shook his head, answering his own question. “Of course he was nice. He’s like, the opposite of Lindsey’s Enforcer.”
“What?” Piper asked. “Enforcer?”
“Oh, Lindsey’s Dom helps take care of enforcing the club rules, and he loves it since he’s a total sadist.” Dixon waved his hand in the air and made a high buzzing sound. “If you were an annoying mosquito, DeVries would smash you and leave your guts splattered everywhere. And he’d laugh.”
“Dixon.” Lindsey giggled. “Zander isn’t that bad.”
The looks the brunette got from Abby and Rona telegraphed…yes, the sadist was that bad. Still, however mean he was, Lindsey had the contented glow of a woman who loved her partner and was cherished in return. So did Rona and Abby.
Piper had no glow. She pushed aside the feeling of envy. She was alone because she wanted to be. Well, not really, but it was still her choice.
“Now, Sir Ethan,” Dixon continued. “He’d look at the mosquito and say ‘Sorry’ like the Brits do, and then he’d set the naughty bug outside. In winter. To die. But there would be ever so much courtesy.”
Dixon’s imitation of Ethan’s posh English accent was deadly accurate and reduced everyone to helpless laughter.
Abby wiped tears from her cheeks. “Well, Piper, I’m glad you took Ethan on.”
“Yes, I even decided to stay as his assigned chatelaine. I need to get over being neurotic, and I won’t do it by hiding.”
“Very good.” Rona smiled. “I can recommend some kink-friendly counselors if you ever feel the need. Also, if you want to visit Dark Haven, I’d be delighted to go with you and guard you.”
“Me, too,” Dixon raised his hand.
“And me,” both Abby and Lindsey said together.
“You guys. You’re going to make me bust out crying.” Piper tried not to sniffle.
“Can she get in?” Dix asked Rona and Abby. “What with all Xavier’s rules?”
“I’ll talk Simon into running a quick background check that’ll satisfy the requirements.” Rona leaned forward to ask Piper, “Do you miss…well, not your previous Dom who must have been horrible, but anything about the lifestyle?”
Hmm. Did she miss anything? She already knew that dominance turned her on. It always had. But the actual lifestyle?
“Yeeesss,” she said, drawing the word out. “I loved feeling useful. And filling his needs was so satisfying, as if serving added an extra
helping of happiness on top of love. Then he changed. It all changed and twisted into something ugly.”
Abby made a sad noise. “I know how it feels when desire and the beginning of love turn wrong, but if you add D/s into it… Boy, I can’t imagine how messed up I’d be if Xavier wasn’t the person I thought he was. I’ve handed over so much of myself. Given him so much trust.”
Lindsey nodded. “What I was thinking.”
“Dark Haven is a safe place, and I think a visit to the club might be good for you.” Rona sat back. “With escort provided, of course. This was a part of your life that you valued. If you decide to reclaim some of it, that’d be great. If not, that’s all right, too.”
Abby grinned. “You can see how she ended up a hospital administrator, can’t you?”
“I can, yes.” Trying to ignore the anxious shivers tap-dancing over her ribcage, Piper smiled at the others. “If you’re willing to do some handholding, I’m up for it.”
“Yes,” Dixon crowed. “A Dark Haven foray with a newbie. I love it.”
As Abby led the conversation into a different direction, Piper swirled the last of the liquid in her glass. What were the chances that Ethan was a club member?
She might see him there. Just the thought kicked up her heart rate…and somehow eased her shivers.
Chapter Seven
It had certainly been an interesting week. On Saturday, Ethan walked through Dark Haven, enjoying the female vocals for Bishop Briggs’ “White Flag”. He smiled, thinking of another assertive female—his very efficient chatelaine who’d been turning his home on end.
A chef coming in and leaving easy-to-reheat meals was proving to be most pleasant. She hadn’t changed his cleaning crew, but now when they came through, the house was not only spotless, but everything was in place. Churchill had voiced his approval of his new midday pampering.
Ms. Delaney had called on Friday to touch base and made an appointment to see him in person next week. It was a win for him that she’d kept him on as her personal client.
She hadn’t planned to. At the end of the initial appointment, he’d caught on that she intended to assign him to a different chatelaine. So much for his attempt to be un-intimidating.
He truly did like her. He’d enjoyed seeing her turn to mush in Churchill’s furry paws. Her delightful organizational skills. Her insightful comments. Her melodic laugh when he managed to coax one out of her. The way she’d flushed at seeing a bed designed for bondage. Her warm heart that had her offering to help Angel.
But…was he interested in someone who really didn’t like him? No…he didn’t think so. Ms. Delaney had been at ease with men—other men—at Stan’s party. Her wariness with Ethan had started when she’d seen him acting as Angel’s Master. Because he was a Dominant.
He shook his head, remembering the delight in her expression when he’d complimented her. She was a submissive, one who loved to serve. Yet being around him—and Xavier, for that matter—made her fearful. Everything inside him wanted to help, to comfort and reassure her, and fix what was wrong.
The curse of being a Dom.
Speaking of being a Dom…he needed to concentrate on Dark Haven tonight.
Halfway down the stairs into the dungeon, Ethan stopped to check out the action from above. Interesting scenes and the energy in the room was excellent. He’d said something like that once to a new submissive, and she’d stared at him as if he were crazy, asking if he could seriously judge the energy from the quality of the moaning and slapping floggers.
Actually…yes, he could.
His gaze stopped on the four St. Andrew’s crosses near the front. Lots of flogging and canes.
Unfortunately, a newer Dom in one scene was getting sloppy. That’d be his first stop.
Spanking benches occupied the center of the room. A Top there was working over her wife with a paddle. From the wife’s shudders and breathing, the Top was doing a fine job.
Michael was using a violet wand near the back. No need to oversee the older Dom; he was always careful. Wax play was going on center back. Ethan didn’t recognize the Top. Possibly a visitor—someone taking advantage of the various reciprocal memberships of BDSM clubs. He’d check out that scene second.
“Hey, mate. How are you doing?” Wearing an irritable expression, Mitchell climbed the stairs, leading an older submissive by one wrist.
“Quite well, thank you. Did you run into a problem?” Ethan glanced at the submissive.
“Deirdre here interrupted a scene to ask questions and implore the Dom to do her next.” Mitchell’s Aussie accent was thicker than normal with his annoyance. “I intervened before he went ballistic on her arse.”
The woman’s face twisted in anger. “I just wanted—”
“Did I give you permission to speak?” Mitchell growled.
“N-no, but—” She wisely stopped.
The Aussie sighed. “I’m too tired and grouchy to think of a proper discipline tonight. You got any suggestions, Ethan?”
“I can see she has trouble holding her tongue, so start by gagging her. Of course, you’ll provide a non-annoying toy in case she needs to safeword.”
Mitchell nodded, rubbing his head as if it hurt. “Defo.”
Definitely, Ethan translated before considering the submissive. “What’s her favorite activity?”
“She asked the Dom for a flogging, said she loves it.”
“Then you have an easy punishment. Get two Tops. One flogs her—”
When the woman brightened, Mitchell’s brows drew together. “Hey, mate, this is supposed to be punishment, not a reward.”
Ethan glanced at her. “Stand right there and do not move.” He led Mitchell up the stairs out of hearing. “Have the non-flogger interrupt the scene every time she starts enjoying herself. Let the two Tops move away and chat, so she knows no one is paying attention to her. After a few minutes, start the flogging over. Interrupt it again. Repeat the cycle half a dozen times until she understands exactly how devastating an interrupted scene can feel. Then have them send her home—without satisfaction—like the self-involved brat she is.”
Mitchell pursed his lips. “Effective and fucking cruel. Thanks.”
“Not a problem.” One concern down. Now for another. “While you set this up, I’ll let Xavier know you’re done for the night. He can find another enforcer or police the submissives himself. You’re too tired for frustrating messes.”
“I can”—Mitchell sighed—“bloody oath, you’re right. Thanks.”
Ethan glanced at the woman. She met his gaze and looked down immediately. Ah well, maybe she was teachable—and he was glad it wasn’t his job. “Deal with her, then go home and get some rest.”
Mitchell chuckled. “You know, you intimidate the fuck out most of the Tops. Guess they’ve never seen your Daddy Dom side.”
The Aussie’s sense of humor was as crooked as Lombard Street. “Go.”
Once on the dungeon floor, Ethan saw the flogger had grown even sloppier. Moving to where the Dom could see him, Ethan waited.
The Dom noticed, knew Ethan could shut his scene down, and walked over. “Is there a problem?”
“Only if your submissive doesn’t enjoy pissing blood.”
“Say what?”
“Did you forget where the kidneys are located?”
Almost involuntarily, the Dom turned, saw the welts across the woman’s right and left lower back, and winced. “Oh, shit.”
“You need to flog inanimate objects until you have better control. There’s a class on Saturdays where you can practice and get suggestions.” The Dom nodded. “For now, perhaps you should wind down with some sensation play and end the scene nicely so your submissive is happy.”
Relief swept the Dom’s expression as he realized Ethan wasn’t killing the session completely—just the flogging portion. “Got it.” He huffed a breath. “Thanks. Really.”
Pleased, Ethan nodded. Although most Doms wanted what was best for their submissives, some couldn
’t take correction at all. Good man here.
The second stop was the wax play scene. The Top was doing well.
Now, to find Xavier. There he was, watching a caning.
Walking over, Ethan enjoyed seeing how Abby was snuggled up against his friend. After Xavier’s first wife died unexpectedly, the Dom had closed himself off for years. Abby had changed all that.
Wasn’t it odd how submissives believed they needed the Doms more than the Doms needed them?
“Good evening, you two.” Ethan smiled at Xavier and then at the short professor whose deep blue corset and tiny skirt emphasized her curves.
She smiled up at him.
“Do you have a moment?” Ethan asked Xavier.
“I’m guessing there’s a problem somewhere?”
“I’m afraid so.” After explaining about Mitchell, Ethan added, “I think some of the tiredness is because he’s ill-suited to be the bad guy, at least with submissives. We’re much alike in that.” Doms with over-protective natures often found it difficult to punish a submissive, even when well-deserved.
Last year, deVries had policed the submissives, and the sadist had enjoyed the hell out of it. But his little Texan, Lindsey, wasn’t comfortable seeing him discipline subs—at least the female ones.
“You might hand over enforcement to the Pedersens.” Ethan nodded toward a married couple in their late fifties. She’d started as her husband’s submissive and, as often happened, had discovered her inner dominant. The two were polyamorous and bi with a side of sadistic. “They like to teach and are ready for a challenge. Perhaps give them Mitchell’s assignment tonight.”
Brows lifted, Xavier studied them. “I’ll do that.”
Before he could move, Abby tugged at his sleeve. “My Liege? May I be excused?”
“Is it time for Rona and her visitor?” Xavier glanced at his watch.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Of course. Go meet them.”
As Abby went up on tiptoes to thank her Dom, Ethan smiled. There was nothing prettier than a submissive asking permission. Yes, he was old-fashioned that way, wasn’t he?
I Will Not Beg: Mountain Masters & Dark Haven Book 9 Page 7