The last three weekends since they had arrived in New Bern, Gunnar and his little submissive had dressed up and gone out on Friday night. They would arrive home sometime early Saturday morning and disappear into their suite of rooms at the opposite end of the house. He would not see them again until Sunday afternoon, when they appeared, freshly showered and looking relaxed and happy.
Now, after a late-afternoon shower, Sinjin returned to his suite and found his notebook computer missing. In its place was a note.
Your computer is being held hostage until you come out with us. We will leave for Club Esoteria at eight sharp. Wear something black, comfortable, and Dom-appropriate.
Sinjin smiled at the submissive’s directive. Since he had been in New York when his cabin burned down, the only clothes he owned were black. Jeans, shirts, jacket. Even his socks and boxers were black. He hated shopping in all forms and usually only went shopping when clothes began to develop bigger-than-fingertip holes in them. Or they disappeared in the laundry, thanks to Madison’s sorting methods.
In the ten years he had been writing, black had never gone out of style and added to his mystique, or so said Paul Alton, his agent, business manager, and interpreter during his trips to the Big Apple for meetings with his publisher.
Sinjin pulled on clothes and slid his feet into black sneakers without bothering with socks. Not that he currently owned a pair of socks. It was one of his quirks. He only wore socks when he was hiking in the mountains, or in the dead of winter when the floors of his cabin turned to ice.
Once dressed, he left the sanctuary of his two-room suite and headed for the kitchen. His current story had dragged him under, and he had not stopped to eat since consuming a granola bar with his morning coffee. While missing an occasional meal meant he did not have to exercise quite as hard, it was not a good habit to indulge in more than a couple times a week. And this was the fourth day this week he had missed lunch. For now though, he would get something to eat before they left for the evening at the BDSM club that Gunnar and Jillian spoke so highly of.
He had just opened the refrigerator to see if there was anything in it he could turn into a sandwich when movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. Jillian walked in wearing a short, body-hugging leather dress with lots of beads and fringe on it.
She looked at him then took her hand and smoothed it down the front of her body from sternum to belly button in the sign for “Hungry?”
He nodded with a smile. Though she was far from fluent, she had bought a book and was learning to sign so they did not have to go looking for a pad and pen and have a written conversation every time Gunnar was not around.
She smiled and made shooing motions with both hands. He grinned as he retreated to the bar side of the island that separated the kitchen from the great room where she and Gunnar seemed to spend most of their weekday evenings. He watched as she quickly put together two large club sandwiches, before fixing a third, smaller sandwich.
As she added cut vegetables to the plates instead of chips, Gunnar appeared in the doorway. He wore black jeans and a black leather vest open in the front sans shirt.
“You’re coming out with us tonight?” Gunnar asked with a lift of one eyebrow.
“Have to,” Sinjin responded with a wry glance at Jillian. “My computer has been taken hostage. Ransom was that I force my presence on you and this club of yours.”
He watched as Gunnar turned to Jillian and she nodded. Her lips moved as she said, “You said he was working too hard and needed a night out, Master. This was the only way I could think of to get him to take time off and come out with us.”
Sinjin smiled and watched as Gunnar threw his head back and laughed. Then he said, “She’s right, you know. I do need a night off, and watching you punish this one for computer-napping might be fun.”
“And maybe we can match you up with a submissive of your very own,” Gunnar suggested with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Sinjin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like this club of yours has a subbie who whose kinks match up with mine and who knows sign language.”
Gunnar smiled and shared a secretive look with Jillian before turning back again. “You never can tell, brother. You might be surprised at what you find at Club Esoteria.”
Sinjin gave his stepbrother a skeptical look before picking up his sandwich and eating.
* * * *
Mary Claire’s toes tapped to the music as she watched couples enter the club from the behind the new DJ’s station next to the performance platform. She had been a member of the club for almost a year now, and ran the music on weekends for the past six months. She knew everyone by sight, if not by name. She had played with a few of the single Doms but had yet to find a man who made her heart go pitter-pat and her stomach roll with excitement and anxiety.
But she kept looking, hoping for a miracle. With the holiday season soon to be upon them, a miracle was not too much to ask for, was it?
Laughing at herself, she knew there would be no miracles in her future. After all, what dominant wanted a submissive who despised pain, had a hard time being bound without having a panic attack, talked a mile a minute when nervous, and really just wanted to cuddle.
She did not mean to offend or be bratty when offered other scenes. She just could not seem to help herself. Between her ADHD, OCD, long and wide boundary list, and penchant for talking faster and louder when she was nervous or scared, she was a hot mess no one she had met so far wanted to take on a part-time basis, much less collar and claim her permanently.
When her friend, Jillian Hall, walked in under Master Gunnar’s arm, Mary Claire straightened up with interest. She hoped they would have a chance to talk and catch up before the evening was over as they had not talked in weeks. She really needed to call and make a coffee date with the busy CEO.
Then she looked at Jillian’s outfit and sighed. Her friend was wearing what looked like a real leather Indian dress with beads and fringe that was super-short, formfitting, and sexy in all the right places. Looking down at her own outfit, Mary Claire once again felt less than proper. She had tried, first to dress as a Pilgrim and then as an Indian but failed with every attempt. Her wardrobe lacked anything sexier than a schoolgirl costume she had made herself, and her budget did not allow her to do much shopping. So she had gotten creative.
From the waist down, she was a Pilgrim. Her super-short, black skirt covered her bits and pieces, as long as she did not bend over. From the waist up, she wore a brown suede vest with fringe and beading on the front. Five buttons held it closed, and she wore nothing underneath it. Her midback-length bright auburn hair was in two thick ropes, which ended just above the fullest part of her breasts.
When Mistress Jenna had seen her as she had taken over for Gentry a half hour before, the Domme had asked after her costume with a skeptical expression. Mary Claire explained with as little snark as she could manage what her costume represented. Mistress Jenna laughed, which was a good thing in Mary Claire’s mind.
Still smiling at that memory, Mary Claire returned to people watching. She had the music for the evening lined up on her computer so she now had a couple hours, unless someone wanted to make an announcement or something. Sliding her fingers under her thighs on the tall chair, she tried very, very hard to keep from jumping up and dancing. The music was playing just loud enough to be heard without being so loud that people could not talk or that it drowned out the slaps of leather or wood on flesh or cries of pain or completion that sounded throughout the room.
That was when she saw him. He had just stepped through the doorway from the lobby and was looking around. A moment later, he started walking with the gait of a wild cat. With his wavy pale-gold hair brushed back from his face and neatly trimmed beard, he looked like a golden lion on the prowl.
Automatically her gaze dropped to study the rest of him. His black clothes added to the air of dominant power he radiated. She held her breath when he stopped at Gunnar’s other side and looked aro
und the room. His eyes seemed to take in everything as he scanned the room. Then his gaze met and locked on hers.
She watched as his eyes widened slightly then narrowed as he studied her. Not wanting to scare him away or challenge him too directly with her boldness, Mary Claire dropped her eyes to stare at his black sneakers. She could feel the warmth of his blue gaze as he looked her up and down. It was as if he were stroking her body with more than just his eyes.
Then the tingling feeling stopped. Glancing up, she shivered when she saw he had turned away. She forced the air from her lungs before dragging in another breath as she considered that no other man’s gaze had ever affected her so strongly.
* * * *
Sinjin had been in enough clubs across the country to know the gist of things. Gunnar had called the owners and arranged a temporary membership for the duration of his stay in North Carolina. After skimming the rules and regulations regarding members and guests, he filled out the rest of the paperwork and provided the copy of his health paperwork to the man at the desk who was dressed in a pale-tan leather breechcloth, armband of wooden beads, and nothing else.
Then he pushed through the red velvet curtains and stepped into the main room of Club Esoteria. He made a mental note to ask Gunnar what the name meant later. Right now he wanted a beer. He would watch a scene or two before making his excuses and going home again.
Sinjin scanned the club, seeing the typical large equipment situated around the perimeter of the room between seating areas. The bar took up the middle of the room with a Saint Andrew’s cross at one end and an inverted U at the other. There was a small stage in the back left corner and stairs that led to a second-floor balcony on the right side.
Once he had perused the room, he scanned the people. If nothing else, he would bank a few new character descriptions in his memory for future stories. There were maybe twenty people scattered about the room, but that was to be expected as it was still relatively early.
A flash of red up near the stage caught his attention, and he locked eyes with the most interesting-appearing creature he had seen in quite some time. He thought she should be in an ancient Irish forest, not a BDSM club in coastal North Carolina.
Red braids trailed over her shoulders. The bright color seemed to enhance her pale skin and freckles that covered her face, throat, arms, and chest. Her leather vest and short black skirt showed off a fine, curvy figure, which had his cock twitching in response. From where he stood, he could see her eyes were the bright blue of the fall sky he had seen this morning out the windows of his room. Carolina blue, he thought Jillian had called it. His cock filling with interest as his heartbeat began to pick up caught him off guard. His eyes widened for a few seconds before he narrowed them to test her response to domination from a distance.
Would she submit?
Could she possibly be a submissive interested in that which he had to offer?
Though he saw no collar or other sign of ownership, he wondered if she was already tied to someone.
Or was he deluding himself that any woman in this place would be interested in a man who only had three functioning senses?
He pulled in a breath when she dropped her gaze and then her head. She looked so beautifully submissive that he was tempted to stake his claim on her for the rest of the evening. Patting his pockets, he realized he had forgotten pad and pen. Communication would be nearly impossible unless his stepbrother took pity on him and translated.
Well, that sucked. He decided as he followed Gunnar and Jillian across the room to a seating area tucked in the back right corner, under the stairs, and partially hidden from the rest of the room. He took the oversized chair next to the wall so he could continue to watch the redhead from afar.
* * * *
To keep from being too obvious in her interest in the new dominant in town, Mary Claire focused on her computer, making sure she had enough music in varying tempos lined up for the rest of the evening. She could not help but watch as the blond lion followed Master Gunnar and Jillian to the semiprivate seating area at the back of the room. It was the area where many of the committed couples preferred to hang out, while the few still-single submissives had taken over the couches near the middle of the right side of the room so they could see, be seen, and hopefully picked by the single dominants.
“Oooo, who’s the new hot Dom with Jillian?” Stacy asked as she stepped up to the DJ booth, no doubt to gossip.
“No clue,” Mary Claire replied as her hips began to sway and twitch with nervous energy.
“Whoever he is, he’s rude.” Mina, another of the uncollared submissives, joined them. “I said hello and offered to be his guide around the club and he completely ignored me.”
“Probably because he’s here with Gunnar and Jillian and doesn’t need a guide,” Stacy pointed out reasonably.
As she began to dance to a Garth Brook oldie, she glanced over and found the newcomer had taken a seat facing in her direction. When their eyes locked, he nodded once and the left corner of his mouth tilted up a bit.
She tried not to grin back, but it was difficult. Everything in her began to tingle. Then she dropped her gaze to the floor, studying her bare toes and wishing she had had the time to take off the chipped red nail polish before coming. That and shave. But today time had been her enemy.
After counting to a hundred, she looked up and watched as Master Gunnar nudged the newcomer who was now watching a scene going on at the front of the room. Once he was looking at him, Master Gunner then signed, “Want a beer?”
At his friend’s nod, Gunnar said something to Jillian, who rose with the grace of a ballet dancer and walked toward the bar.
The two men then began a conversation without saying a word. Mary Claire watched and understood every word from across the room. Needing to talk to Jillian, she headed to the bar, getting there a few seconds after her friend did.
“So, is the big, bad CEO too busy for dinner one day next week?”
“No, but I’m sure the celebrity DJ is,” Jillian said with a laugh before ordering two beers and a bottle of water.
Mary Claire ordered water for herself as well. She would drink a beer later, after she did a scene. She hoped. Or she would go home and drink two or more since she had no plans for the rest of the weekend and was not on call at either the hospital or the police department.
Shifting so her back was to the two men in the corner, Mary Claire asked the question that was burning her lips to get out. “So inquiring minds want to know, who’s the hottie with Master Gunnar, and what are his kinks? Stacy and Mina are arguing over whether he’s a sadist or a Kinbaku Master.”
Jillian smiled. “He’s Master’s stepbrother visiting for the winter from Washington State. Master said he is a Daddy Dom looking for a sweet submissive to play with. Preferably one who signs since he is a deaf mute.”
Mary Claire’s heart sped up and her pussy clenched. But how to introduce herself and beg to see if they could give each other what they both needed without being rude? Especially since Master Gunnar made her nervous enough to lapse into verbal diarrhea.
Then Jillian gave her a smile that told Mary Claire she was up to something. “Would you like to meet him?”
Chapter 3
Sinjin watched with growing interest as the redheaded submissive joined Jillian at the bar. He frowned slightly when she turned so her back was to him. Even from this angle, he had a hard time pulling his eyes away from her. Shapely legs ran from bare feet to a round ass that her short black skirt lovingly covered. He jolted when Gunnar nudged his elbow again for his attention.
“See something you like?”
Sinjin shrugged and signed, “Maybe. Too bad playing would be awkward unless you joined us to translate.”
Gunnar looked across the bar before saying, “You might be surprised.”
Sinjin huffed his imitation of a chuckle before turning his attention back to the bar. The redhead was following Jillian toward their rather isolated corner of the room.
When their gazes met again, the electric connection he had felt earlier returned. He crossed his right ankle over his left knee to camouflage the erection that was growing with each step the two women took. They each carried a beer in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.
When they were only three feet from the men, Jillian knelt in front of her Master and the redhead before him. Both assumed the kneeling slave position with their knees spread and heads tilted so their faces were angled toward the floor. A moment later, they lifted the beer bottle toward the man in front of them.
He accepted the beer from the submissive woman and set it on the small table between his chair and the couch Gunnar sat on. “What’s going on?”
Gunnar’s shift in expression made Sinjin instantly wary. The last time he had seen such a devilish glint in the big man’s eyes was the night he had graduated from high school. They had spent a night in jail for their misdeed that night. “I believe Jillian has brought you the perfect subbie to play with.”
Sinjin lifted his right brow and pressed his lips together. He hoped his stepbrother would see he was clearly skeptical. How could anyone be the perfect submissive for him? Unless she, too, was deaf. If that was the case, why didn’t she have a friend or companion with her to translate?
“Sinjin, I would like to present Mary Claire Brook, a local radio celebrity,” Gunnar said at the same time he signed. “Mary Claire, this is Master Sinjin Gallagher, my stepbrother, who will be visiting New Bern for the next few months.”
Once Gunnar dropped his hands to his lap, indicating he was finished speaking, Sinjin turned his attention to the woman kneeling before him. Her head remained angled down, so he took a moment to study the rest of her.
She was curvy in all the right places though her outfit confused him. The theme for the evening was Thanksgiving and she looked like neither Pilgrim nor Indian. Or was she supposed to be an appetizer for some lucky Dom to nibble on?
A Pixie for Master Sinjin [Club Esoteria 16] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2