Maisy's Keeper

by Saffron Hayes

  “Yeah, that’d be great. Seven?” She gave Harry a thumbs up. Yup, definitely seeing him again, even if it probably wasn’t the dinner date her friend might imagine

  “I’ll see you then. Be good.” He hung up, leaving Maisy reeling for the second time that night.

  “I’m seeing him on Thursday.” She said, in response to Harry’s questioning glare.

  Even Club Drifts’ lauded ceilings would have had trouble absorbing her answering squeal.

  Chapter 8

  More

  Maisy was surprised to see a young blond man at the reception desk when she arrived at Club Drift on Thursday evening. Uncoupled diamante wrist cuffs glinted in the candle light when he waved at her and she flashed a nervous grin.

  “Hi, I was sort of hoping to see Matilda. It’s my first time and I’m just not sure, you know, about-” she spread her arms and gestured at the outfit she’d agonised over.

  “Oh, well, let me set you straight there,” he fanned himself in a comically lascivious pantomime then grinned at her, “You look perfect, honey, perfect. Don’t you worry. It’s Carl by the way, with a ‘C’.”

  “Thanks Carl. Maisy” She took the hand he offered, wondering why a handshake was necessary. A weird kink formality, perhaps?

  Instead of shaking her hand Carl bowed and kissed it, showing off the turquoise glitter in his roots in the process. “First time, right? So, you’ll need the booklet?

  “I think so. I filled out something on the open evening thingy, but Dan said something about a limits list?”

  “‘Dan said,’ huh?” He fluttered his unnaturally long eyelashes as he passed her a neatly stapled booklet of forms, “Would that be Master Daniel the High and Mighty?”

  Maisy pursed her lips, enjoying a vision of serious Dan in a crown and goofy cloak, “Uhuh, unless there’s two of them.”

  “Oh no, honey, there’s only one of him, no doubt about that.” He winked cheerfully, but there was something unusual about the tone he used, like he was thinking about something other than Dan’s indisputable attractiveness.

  “Okay, what is it?” She asked after a moment, unable to shake the feeling.

  “Nothing! Nothing! Shhh, you’ll get me in trouble for gossiping.”

  He waved a pen at her, placed it on the forms, and turned to stamp an arriving couple’s hands.

  Maisy frowned and bent to fill in the forms. Page one was the same as before. Name, date of birth, next of kin, health concerns etc. However, when she turned to page two and saw the first part of the limits list she faltered. She had to decide all of this now? She didn’t even know what some of it meant. What is a violet wand, anyway?

  “Um, Carl...”

  “Hmm? Oh! Don’t you worry, honey. You can take that in with you and have a think. No sense in rushing, right? Our illustrious leader says it’s more ‘to ‘elp le submissives think about their desires’ rather than some necessary admin thing anyway.”

  Maisy laughed at his terrible French accent then froze as Claude emerged from behind the tall cabinet that screened the main entrance from the reception desk. Carl saw her expression switch from laughter to apprehension and chuckled.

  “Ee is behind me, non?” He asked, laying the dodgy accent on even thicker and ignoring Maisy’s appalled expression.

  “You have never had any manners, Carl.” Claude said, good-naturedly.

  “Never, darling,” Carl agreed, turning to bow to Claude as he had to Maisy.

  “Never ‘Sir,’” Claude corrected, mildly. “It’s after nine, Carl. The club is open.”

  “And so I must degrade myself by being polite to you, I know, I know.” Carl sighed, then winked at Maisy.

  She noticed Claude was smiling as he shook his head. The pair seemed to be friends. Nonetheless, Maisy wasn’t sure she’d dare to speak to Claude like that. There was something about his bearing that suggested he’d be proficient with the canes that were mounted on the wall in a striking attempt at decoration.

  “Hello, dear Maisy,” Claude smiled and kissed both of her cheeks.

  “Hello - uh- Sir,” she said, stumbling over the moniker, “I hoped I’d see you. I just wanted to say thank you so much for letting me have the membership. It’s so kind of you, really.”

  “Not at all, little one. Besides, you must thank Daniel and Matilda. It was they who nominated you.”

  Carl’s mouth dropped open as if he’d just overhead Claude confess his secret love for licking raw octopus tentacles in bed rather than a small detail like who nominated a newbie for sponsorship.

  “What’s the matter?” Maisy asked.

  Claude turned to see what she was frowning at, before sighing exasperatedly, “Carl. Behave.”

  Carl rolled his eyes and mimed zipping his mouth up and locking it. He waved Maisy over using theatrical hand gestures because, presumably, he couldn’t very well call her over with a locked mouth.

  He leaned over the counter and stamped her hand, then, seeing that Claude was greeting a new arrival, whispered in her ear, “Find me later. Gossip.” He winked and mimed locking his mouth again before passing her the invisible key.

  “Ready to go in, Maisy?” Claude was by her side again, giving Carl a not so subtle silencing glare.

  She nodded and waved at Carl, smoothing her frown away before she looked up at Claude.

  “Thanks again, Sir.”

  “No problem. Maisy, do not listen too much to Carl’s gossip, yes? He has good intentions, but he is, uh, how does Matilda put it? ‘Addicted to drama.’”

  If Carl heard him he didn’t react and although she’d didn’t know him well, Maisy couldn’t imagine Carl not reacting to such a slight.

  Maisy laughed, “I see. I’ll be sure to remember that.”

  As Claude opened the door to the main club they almost walked into Daniel coming the opposite way.

  Daniel grabbed her arm as she stumbled backwards, caught by surprise.

  “Maisy,” Daniel didn’t release her arm when she steady again. “I was coming to find you.”

  Maisy felt his eyes on her as surely as his hand. Unable to find a proper greeting, she said, “Thank you for the nomination.”

  Daniel flashed an impenetrable look at Claude, who ignored it and placed a gentle hand on Maisy’s shoulder. “I’ll leave Daniel to see you in. Enjoy your evening, Maisy.”

  Claude returned to the reception desk to greet another newcomer without a backwards glance.

  Daniel shook his head as if dispersing an unpleasant thought and took Maisy’s arm in his properly. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re blocking the door.”

  She was grateful for the support, she was sure that the impact of Club Drift’s main room wouldn’t be softened by her single previous visit.

  It was a little quieter than it’d been on Tuesday, or at least it seemed to be, she later realised that people were just spread over a larger area than they had been before.

  The shadowy tunnels that led to who knows what were partially lit tonight and a handful of people migrated that way as they entered. It seemed that the rules were a little looser than they’d been on newbie night because some of the outfits were...unusual to say the least. It still felt like walking into a secret underground London to Maisy. A woman wearing shimmery wings and a sequined bikini bowed her head respectfully at Dan.

  On their way to the bar Dan greeted a man whose sharp, angular face Maisy didn’t recognise. He was focused on setting up a wide rope barrier around a freestanding post that hadn’t been there on Tuesday night.

  The blond man nodded tersely as they passed, engrossed in his work. At the bar a red headed man wearing a full beard and a plaid shirt poured drinks and passed them to costumed waitstaff. His black armband seemed too tight on his thickly muscled bicep.

  “Maisy, this is Master Matthew, Matthew, Maisy. A new member.”

  “Hi,” she said, peering up at him over the preposterously over-sized metallic bar.

  “It’s a pleasure.” His accent was American, b
ut Maisy didn’t know enough about the States to place him exactly. He winked as he shook her hand, “What are you drinking?”

  “A gin and tonic, please”

  “Just water for me,” Dan paused, considering, “and my bag when you’ve got a minute, mate.”

  “No problem.” Matthew tossed him a plastic bottle from under the bar and passed the mixed drink order to a passing barmaid before disappearing around the back of the bar’s central brass column.

  “It’s busy, huh?”

  “The location helps. A lot of members come in from the city after work.”

  “Makes sense.” No matter what was going on over in those tunnels apart from drinking, and Maisy was trying hard not to speculate too much, Club Drift was a good bar. The kind of quirky good that you might find further East in London, but with extra benefits.

  It would never get so uncomfortably busy you couldn’t get to the bar to order a drink, partly because of the exclusive membership fees and partly because the place was so cavernous you’d need several buses full of people before you came close to capacity.

  Maisy caught herself thinking about her company’s biggest client and their annual Christmas party. With a room this size she could really go to town with theming and entertainment and still have over-sized tables. Maybe Claude would be open to hiring it out... No. Maisy redrew the line between Club Drift and work in her mind. Big important line - Do Not Cross.

  Matthew returned and placed a sizable black leather holdall on the bar in front of Dan. “I hope I don’t have to remind you of weeknight rules, Master Daniel,” Matthew said, one side of his mouth curling up in a wry smile.

  Daniel rolled his eyes, “I don’t know, you give them a black armband and they think they’re everyone’s ma.”

  Matthew had one of those big booming laughs that only come from huge and merry men. He laughed so loudly on this occasion that a young waitress who’d been about to pass him a drink ticket squeaked. Still chuckling, he took it from her, “Sorry darling. Have fun you two!”

  Maisy trailed a footstep or so behind Dan as he looked for a free area, “What are weeknight rules and why are they funny?”

  They stopped to watch the man at the post finishing his preparations, “He thinks it’s funny to remind me of the rules because he’s been knocking around eighteen months while I’ve been here at least a decade now.”

  A decade? Wow. That’s a long time to work anywhere, Maisy thought.

  “I haven’t always been on the payroll though. Used to just be advisory ‘cause I’ve known Claude for -” He wrinkled his nose as he did the maths in his head, “Christ, about twenty years now.”

  “Did you go to school together.”

  He nodded, “Sort of, but we’ll save the sweaty rugby stories for another day.”

  She flushed, “I didn’t mean -”

  “I know,” He squeezed her arm and nodded at the blond man, who was now unravelling a long coiled... Oh wow, a long coiled whip. “Looks like William’s doing a single tail demonstration tonight. You want to watch?”

  Maisy quickly shook her head, “No, thank you.” She noticed that Dan was watching her with that astute closeness again, trying to read her reactions, perhaps? She stood a little taller, she didn’t want to seem afraid because she wasn’t, she was just... Okay, maybe she was a little afraid, but bloody hell, a whip is a whole different thing from a spanking.

  Dan’s brow furrowed, “We’ll see. Maybe it’d do you good to watch him work. He’s very good, you know.”

  Before she could argue that even if he was the Beethoven of whippings, she still wouldn’t want to watch, Dan had taken himself off to a nearby row of tables with benched seating.

  Maisy looked at the intimidating man - William, apparently - who was testing the stability of the post by jumping on it with all his weight. Well, it looked like he wasn’t getting started quite yet, she could always make Dan move tables when the demonstration began.

  Dan threw his bag on the unoccupied table and leaned against it, the very picture of relaxed confidence. “Let’s establish some rules for the evening.”

  “Rules?” Maisy placed her untouched drink on the table and tentatively accepted the hand he offered her.

  “Absolutely.” He tugged her closer and wrapped his arm around her waist, still holding her hand. With her back pressed against his chest, he was in the perfect position to whisper into her ear.

  “We don’t know each other yet, little Maisy, so we’re going to have to talk to get things started.”

  Maisy’s mind hesitated over that ‘yet’ for a moment. Just how well would they know each other?

  He continued, his voice low and steady, his hand holding hers firm against her own hip, “I’m not your Dom, sweetheart, but I am your mentor, so I’ll act as your Dom when we’re at Drift for these six weeks. As such, I expect your behaviour at the club to be exemplary.”

  She shivered a little at the tantalising subtext to his words: if you don’t behave there will be consequences.

  Maisy felt his chest rumbling as he chuckled, “I won’t punish you for making mistakes, but if we’ve discussed a rule and you’ve already been reminded... well then, sweetheart, I will take great joy in paddling your beautiful arse.”

  In her mind’s eye she saw herself bent over his knee on one of Club Drift’s many soft benches, his hand rising, her hands clenching in anticipation...

  “That’s acceptable,” she said, her voice hoarse.

  “Good.” He brushed his lips across her cheek, “Rule one, little Maisy. You will use a safe word if you need to. That is non-negotiable. Do you understand?”

  “Sure, I think so.” She hesitated, wary of appearing even more naive than she was. “It’s a word that stops everything, right?”

  “That’s right. The club uses the traffic light system, so even if you have your own personal safe word, everyone around will understand if you say ‘yellow’ or ‘red.’”

  “Traffic lights? So green for go, red for stop, and...”

  “Yellow is, usually, a cue for the top to check in with the sub and make sure every thing’s okay. Maybe make some adjustments to play. All clear?”

  “Yeah, I understand that.”

  “It’s non-negotiable because it’s the most important thing with power exchange, Maisy. You must be able to communicate any discomfort to me at a moment’s notice. That’s the only way I can give you everything you need.”

  Surprised by his serious tone, Maisy turned her head a little, so she could look him in the eye, “It’s okay, I’ll tell you if I don’t like something. Of course I will.”

  His jaw tightened slightly, but all he said was, “Good.”

  Dan released Maisy from his gentle grip and sat on the burgundy bench that filled the wall near the table. He plucked a velvet covered cushion from its place and put it on the floor between his spread legs. The hot and commanding look he gave Maisy made her knees wobble slightly, so she was almost relieved when he gave her the simple order.

  “Kneel.”

  Maisy took a step forward then stopped, caught between thoughtless obedience and the strangeness of the action. She looked at Dan, who just sat back and waited, exuding quiet strength and confidence. Somehow, that was enough for Maisy to kneel at his feet.

  The cushion went some way towards protecting her knees, but she still felt the cold floor on her bare ankles. She looked at the floor, conscious that if she looked up she’d be staring directly at Dan’s crotch.

  Instead he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Look at me.”

  She raised her eyes and met his. His irises were brown, almost black, in this light, even darker than his hair. She must have been smiling because he smiled in return. “How do you feel?”

  She shrugged, “A little strange, I guess.”

  “Did you want to obey me?”

  Embarrassed, she merely nodded.

  “Words please, sub.”

  “Yes,” she said, then quickly added,
“Yes Sir.”

  “Good girl. And why is that, do you think?”

  She squirmed under his intense gaze and equally intense questioning. “I don’t know, it just... it felt like the right thing to do. It’s fun, I guess.”

  “Good enough.” He leaned back, “Place your hands behind your head. Yes, like that, but spread your elbows wider. Sit up straighter. Straighter than that.”

  Maisy obeyed the quick-fire orders, blushing as the position made her already prominent breasts look even bigger. From the corner of her eye she watched a pair of women walking by, holding hands and chatting. They both gave her appreciative glances on their way past which made her blush even more.

  “Now, spread your legs for me.”

  She frowned at him, he merely returned her gaze with the same quiet calm and confidence.

  Maisy looked down at her skirt, it was stretchy and long enough that she shouldn’t reveal anything much. She lowered her arms, so she could support herself, but he said, “Keep your arms in that position please, sweetheart.”

  Scowling, she did as he said and awkwardly shuffled her thighs apart, all too aware of the cold stone floor and the less than graceful jiggle of her breasts.

  Eventually, she managed to nudge the cushion to one side and spread her legs as far as her skirt would allow. She glanced up at him, half expecting him to tell her to lift her skirt. She wasn’t sure if she’d object or obey.

  “Sit up straighter. There. Beautiful.”

  The way he looked at her sent a spark of arousal right through her body. She’d never felt so exposed in so many clothes. The way her elbows were spread made it feel like she was framing her breasts, putting herself on display.

  It was exciting, especially when he was so clearly attracted to what she was displaying. She shifted her back a little, determined to sit as straight and proud as she could.

  “Many Doms, myself included, like to teach their submissives positions like this. Positions that they should perfect and display when asked. How do you feel about that?”