by Sara Brooks
“So, how did you find yourself interested in the lifestyle? It’s not something someone just wakes up one day and decides ‘Hey, I’m going to let someone tie me up and order me around’. Not exactly a great conversation starter outside of a club either.”
She chuckled, agreeing with his statement. No, that wasn’t how it worked and unfortunately, too many people thought it was the case. She herself had learned that lesson the first time she’d stepped into a bondage club near campus.
“I had a boyfriend take me to a club once when I was still in college. He was showing off. Didn’t know anything, but it wasn’t as if I knew any better at the time. Boyfriend didn’t last. My membership to the club did. I met Ethan a few years later at Impact, the last place I had a membership. My choice in Doms hasn’t been the greatest, as you heard and why I find myself talking to you.”
He nodded, a lock of his blond hair shifting so it fell across his brow. “Since you started in this lifestyle in such a way, it’s more than likely the reason you keep running into the problems you do. Not having a good base in which to build off of, I mean.”
Ouch.
But Ryan had a point. Her enthusiasm to learn meant Ethan had taken advantage of her willingness. Now she had scars on her back to remind her if she ever forgot. Thankfully she couldn’t see them unless she purposefully looked in the mirror, but the knowledge those marks were there was enough some days.
“At first I thought I wasn’t cut out for the exchange of power dynamic that comes with this lifestyle. Then I ran into Elena again and heard about the job here. She convinced me I was denying something evidently in my base desires and I was miserable because I kept trying to talk myself out of it. Maybe I’ll go back to a club eventually once I get everything in order. Right now, I just want to get a handle on what I really want before I jump in with both feet again.”
Ryan studied her before speaking. “Something tells me that’s not really your scene. A club.”
“You know, I wondered the very same thing.” She’d never had a problem playing at the club when things had been on an even keel early on, but it had seemed as if something was missing. Something she couldn’t put a name to. Then Ethan had come along and she wasn’t given a lot of leeway to ask what it was. Ethan preferred a club, so that’s where they went. “I’m still undecided. About a lot of things, really. I kind of feel as if I’m just floating around without a clear direction.”
“There’s a club not far from here you could look into instead of looking to me for guidance. Not as though I mind, but there are lots of different flavors at Element Twenty-Six. You could find something to suit your needs instead of fighting what your natural instincts are. Maybe switch things up, try your hand at Topping?”
“I don’t think so.”
He laughed, tapping the back of her hand with gentle fingers. “Try not to look so offended next time when I make a suggestion. Some of the best Doms start out as submissives. So it’s not as farfetched as you think.”
“Well that’s just silly,” she said in easy dismissal as she gathered up the last of the butter brickle ice cream in her dish.
“Is it?” Ryan continued to stare. She shifted in her chair, uncomfortable with the intensity emanating from his gaze. “Think about what I’m saying. How can you get inside the mind of someone kneeling before you if you can’t understand how it feels to be on your knees yourself?”
“Wait, what? So, you’ve—” The spoon dropped to the empty dish with a clatter. Surely he couldn’t mean he’d done such a thing. She couldn’t imagine a man Ryan’s size and personality kneeling before someone with his head lowered in submission, ready to listen, and follow, their every command.
In fact, the idea seemed utterly absurd.
Not this handsome, muscular man in front of her.
The startling idea wasn’t even remotely possible. Nothing about Ryan was submissive in any way since command seemed to ooze from his pores.
“A long time ago, but yes.” A sly smile formed as he set his dish to the side, resting his arms along the back of the bench. “I will not do anything to you I haven’t done myself. Including kneeling on rocks. A very effective punishment without a lot of effort. Though I should make it clear I like making the effort during a sub’s punishment, should one be given. It helps the connection between us. But really, how else would I know how long I could safely leave you there?”
Beth blinked slowly, much as she had when he’d first ordered her to her knees. How had she not known that kind of thing? “So in order to learn to dominate someone, you had to submit?” There was no way in hell Ethan had ever been on his knees for a Dom. Obviously he didn’t share Ryan’s opinion. This kind of difference showcased just how very opposite the two men were.
“Exactly. Finished with your dessert?” He pointed to her empty dish. He swept the empty containers away, depositing them on the far side of the counter. The cheerful employee waved in thanks as Ryan came back to collect Beth.
Main Street was quiet as they took in all the last-minute hustle and bustle of the town preparing for the apple festival. She made a mental note to come back and stroll through the homemade crafts being set up on the other side of the street near Perfect Shot. Maybe she could find something for her grandparents to send for Christmas. Something reflective of the town she’d gone to live and work in. They’d both been so caring after everything she’d been through. Sending them a token would be a small price in her effort to repay them for the all the love and support they’d given her as she’d sought her place in this great big world.
She was so absorbed in thinking about her family, she didn’t notice Ryan had guided her to The Quilted Cow. The cozy bed-and-breakfast was serving as her home until she could find a suitable place to live. “Guess this is my stop. It was nice spending the day with you today, Ryan. Thank you.”
“Night doesn’t have to end here. Unless you have to work.” The look of expectation on his eyes, the question in his voice, made her smile. He was so damn charming without even trying. What woman wouldn’t get caught up in that? The fact she did told her she would need to tread carefully.
She was here to learn, not to fall in love.
“Not that I know of. Joe said he’d contact me at the end of the weekend when I called earlier. Seems as if there’s a lot going on in town. I’m surprised he was able to fit in the interview like he did.”
“I’m sure there’s nothing for you to worry about.” He leaned forward, set his hand at her elbow and brushed his lips over her cheek. While it was a friendly kiss, she felt his body change. When he spoke again, she heard his tone alter as well. “Since we both seem to be free for the night, why don’t we start your second lesson?”
A thrill of pleasure shot through her at the dark resonance of the words. She closed her eyes, allowing her body to become absorbed in the tension. It was the kind of thing she’d missed completely when it came to D/s. To be with a Dom who was so consuming, she couldn’t help but follow his instructions. She’d always followed previous Dom’s orders because she thought she had to.
With Ryan, it was the first time she wanted to.
She was so fascinated, when his words finally registered, she jerked in reaction. “Second? When was the first?”
“The moment you went to your knees for me.”
* * * * *
The chilly breeze bit through Ryan’s coat, burning away the rest of his residual excitement. It was probably for the best. He didn’t want to cloud the air between them with anything other than what this was supposed to be about.
Teaching. Guiding. Showing her the ropes.
Damn.
As they approached the large, unmarked brick warehouse, Ryan slid his hand around her waist, gently pulling her toward him. The key slid into the lock and he pushed the door open to stand aside. His gut clenched at the thought of sharing what lay beyond the doorway with her.
Why the hell was he unsettled? He’d never felt this way with anyone else before wh
en he’d brought them here. Nothing in the room was anything to be ashamed of. Nothing was out of the ordinary for someone who knew exactly what this lifestyle entailed.
So why the jitters, Flynn?
Light filled the space as he flipped the switch. He followed her gaze as she took it all in. The walls were bare but had been painted a friendly shade of pale yellow he’d always found soothing. He’d purposefully kept this space free of the comforts of home, choosing instead to fill the room with items indicative of his tastes in BDSM.
A Berkley horse, a modified bench used to bend submissives over for a spanking, sat in the opposite corner. He’d built the piece with his own two hands when he’d been between boat jobs and always thought of it as a shining example of fine craftsmanship. A row of various whips and floggers hung from elegant sweeps of highly polished nickel on the wall behind the horse.
A sleek, shiny metal chair stood in another corner, its horizontal seat upholstered with vivid blue material. The seat had been fashioned with a cutout so the two pieces formed a vee to hold a sub’s legs wide open.
Next to the chair was a long, narrow table padded with the same material as the fabric on the chair. Several wrought iron rings had been screwed into the legs and in a horizontal row down the table. Perfect for a sub to lie on to make herself completely available to him.
Beth walked to the center of the room. As she slowly turned in a circle, he leaned a hip against an ominous-looking cage. He tapped the button for the sound system set back into the wall behind him. When he turned around, her smile had vanished. Her eyes had gone wide in shock, her face a shade of sickly pale that alarmed him. Fear punched him in the gut, turning his blood to ice water.
He stood, crossing to her with quick strides.
“Beth, look at me.” When she continued to stare at the metal implement he’d just moved away from he shifted to block her view. Her body visibly shook as her eyes glazed over, her hands trembling as she pushed her long hair away from her face. Worried about the state she’d slipped into, he passed his hand lightly over her cheek. Her skin felt so cold and clammy.
He controlled the rage for her former master, pushing it down and away to his very foundation. She didn’t need to deal with his anger at what the bastard had done to her.
“Elisbeth,” he said with more force.
She snapped out of her stupor as her gaze met his. “Sorry. Ethan used to lock me in a cage when he wasn’t happy with how I performed for him and his entourage.”
Shit. He should have known something in this room would set her off.
She shook her head. “It’s all right, it just startled me. I didn’t expect—”
“I would have a cage?” Like most other Doms he knew, he’d explored the various aspects of BDSM, searching for things he was drawn to. He also had taken advantage of every opportunity to expand his knowledge base, priding himself on knowing more about what his submissive needed better than she did.
“As I said when we first met, you just haven’t had the right teacher. Give me a moment.” He pressed a light kiss to her forehead even as he cursed himself. While he was very interested in introducing her to things she may have otherwise dismissed because of her past experiences, he wasn’t interested in tossing her in feet first. At least, not like this. He would make sure she faced her fear of the cage some other time.
He extracted a deep-red square of fabric from the small cabinet next to the door. Normally, he used the oversized blanket to wrap a sub during aftercare, but this was more important. He shook the fabric out, tossing it over the rigid bars of the cage to mask its presence. The blanket wouldn’t negate the fact the cage was there in the first place, but at least it would conceal the large object for the moment and allow her to focus only on him.
He purposefully crossed to her again, keeping his body between the obscured cage and her. “As you can tell by the doors we saw on the way in, I don’t use this huge warehouse just by myself. The others use it as their place of refuge as well. We each make the space whatever we need it to be.” He kept things purposefully vague because the somber atmosphere of the room was heavy enough without adding to it.
She forced a smile, wiggling her eyebrows. “Oh really? Do tell.” When he frowned, her hand pressed against the center of his chest. “I want to be here with you. I was just caught off guard for a moment. I’m a big girl, Ryan.”
“Yes, you are.” The memory of how she felt in his hands and the kinds of things she’d made him think since yesterday hit him full force. She wanted his help, comforting her was part of the offer. “Elena likes all the walls taken down. An open floor plan for her open life.”
“How open?”
“I would have thought you’d know more than me given the fact you two went to college together.” Elena could be somewhat quiet about this aspect of her life, but it wasn’t as if she went out of her way to hide it. At least as far as Ryan knew.
“One thing you and I both know about Elena is that while she doesn’t make any kind of apology for what she likes, she won’t just offer the information on a silver platter. I never knew she was a Domme until she mentioned something in Nashville.”
“How very true.” Glad to see some things never changed. “Extremely, to answer your question about how open. Rumor has it an orgy occurred on the very spot in which you’re standing.”
Beth looked down at her feet. Her toes tapped together as she leaned back on her heels. “Oh. Oh my.”
“I bet that was said a lot.” He winked, pulling her to the center of the space with him and out of the oppressive and stagnant air hanging in the corner near the cage.
Beth giggled as she pointed over her shoulder. “And there? Whose room is over there?”
“That would be Patrick’s room. Well, Patrick and Allison’s room. He has some choice equipment in there—though I may be biased.”
Her eyebrows winged up. “Used some of his equipment, have you?”
“Not used—built. Most of his equipment he asked me to create.” He could still feel the smooth finish of the St. Andrew’s Cross under his hands. The gorgeous beauty had made the piece hard to let go of, but it helped knowing it was right across the hall. “Any time one of my friends needs a piece of custom furniture built, I’m usually their go-to guy. I even install it all myself because I don’t trust others from mucking up my work.”
“You take great pride in your craft.”
“I do, yes. I have no business doing the kind of work I do if I didn’t. The arrangement also keeps the secret about what happens inside these walls. Not as if you could ask Aiden Huntington down at Huntington Furniture on Main Street to build and install a custom-made piece of sex furniture. At least not without a lot of explaining or shaking the vines of the local gossip circuit. I can just see the old man’s expression now.”
“What about the other room?”
“Dade.” He paused, thinking. “How in the hell do I explain someone like Dade?”
“Does he like things out of the ordinary or something?”
“He’s just confused. Uses his room to try to work out his confusion. Don’t think he’ll ever find an answer because he’s not asking the right question.” Her curious glimpse over her shoulder wasn’t enough for him to explain further. He was still trying to figure out what Dade was looking for in his life so he wasn’t about to offer up his theories. He just hoped his friend found it eventually—whatever it was. “Dade purposefully dates the wrong people just so he doesn’t risk getting too attached. He likes to keep his distance both emotionally and physically.”
She grunted. “So, how do the four of you keep straight who gets the warehouse?”
He held up his cell phone before tossing it onto a table. “Elena keeps an electronic schedule she hooks us all into. That way we know when to come by and when not to. It allows for privacy. I’m actually responsible for set-up when someone needs something special, which is why Allison was asking if I would take care of things this morning.”
&n
bsp; His hands brushed against her neck, grazing her skin with the lightest of touches. The atmosphere of the room immediately became charged. He felt as if things had fallen into his favor again. He already knew she’d fight him on a few things based on her reactions so far. He was going to have to push some more on the basics.
“We’ll start with something easy. No heavy pain play and no equipment. Just simple directions and some bindings.”
She nodded.
He wasn’t the sort who liked silent submission. He wanted noise. Screams. Curses. His name spilling from luscious lips he hadn’t stopped thinking about since she’d interrupted his work last night.
Focus, dammit. This is about her—not you, asshole.
“You’ll need two safewords.”
“Two?” Her puzzled look told him she’d never heard of such a thing before. She wouldn’t be the first. In his experience, not too many people employed the practice anymore. But it was something the old guard had used frequently and he liked the bit of tradition in his own play.
“Two safewords aren’t used much anymore. If the sub knows how to communicate with her Dom, one safeword is enough. I prefer the choice.”
“Makes sense. But shouldn’t you tell me what you want them to be?”
Her confusion made him want to curl himself around her body in order to protect her from all the damage Ethan had done. Such a broken sub. “I’ve discovered it’s easier for the sub to remember if they’ve picked the word themselves. Nothing tricky or complicated, but something you can remember even when you’re in subspace should we ever get to that point. Do you have an idea of what you’d like?”
“For now, how about apple for stop and lemon for a break?”
“That’s fine.”
“Easy enough.” She shrugged, folding her arms across her body. Her unease settled around her shoulders like a damp blanket weighing her down.
He tugged on her hand, pulling her to the center of the room. “And from this moment on, you’ll address me as Master or Sir.” Her hand trembled in his, a signal he’d hit another nerve. “How about Sir for now?”