Maisy's Keeper
Page 8
“They’re just being friendly because I’m new.” She blushed, was she receiving special treatment?
“Oh, I know, I didn’t mean ought by it.”
Maisy watched a woman in the opposite booth pour little droplets of wax from the table’s tealight onto her partners hand while whispering something. Judging by the other woman’s glazed expression, it was something filthy.
“You need to know what he’s like, okay? I don’t like to gossip, but it’s just not fair if you don’t know.”
Goosebumps prickled up her arm. She hadn’t wanted to listen, but really, it was only self-preservation. What if Daniel was secretly a violent arsehole and she was turning down friendly advice?
Come on now, Maisy. Don’t make it some noble thing, you know you’re just curious. “Don’t know what?”
“I don’t know what’s been said, but you can’t give than man anything, you hear? He’s a major commitment-phobe. Usually refuses to play with anyone more than once. Never plays outside the club. Really touchy about subs getting attached, you know? I just thought I should warn you. A nice newbie coming in without a clue how he is might take him the wrong way, especially as he nominated you.”
“It’s okay, he explained that he’s just helping me settle in. It was Claude’s idea, I think.”
Carl actually turned around, “Okay no, that is some bullshit. Papa Claude is going to get you hurt and I am not going to sit around and watch that.”
“Trainee!” Matilda had heard the last bit at least, who knows what else. Carl turned white and dropped to his knees, apparently forgetting Maisy entirely.
The imposing Domme looked down at Carl as if he was a particularly ugly worm that had been crawling among her roses. “I’m too angry to discipline you twice tonight. Go find Master William. Go!” This last was barked when Carl gave her a dismayed glance. “Stay on your knees.”
Matilda watched him leave the corner on all fours then sat opposite Maisy. Maisy watched her, awe filled at the transformation from friendly receptionist to devastatingly beautiful leather clad Domme. The other woman took a deep breath before smiling at Maisy, “Where’s your Dom hiding?”
“He’s in the office with Matthew and William and some arse who caused a problem, uh, wait, I can’t call you ‘Sir.’”
She laughed and relaxed into the booth, flinching when the boning in her corset poked her rib, “Ma’am is fine.”
“Ma’am, cool. About Carl-”
“Ugh, do not get me started on that drama queen. I nominated him last year and he’s been nothing but trouble. Sweet as sin and fun to play with, but he likes to stir the pot.”
“Yeah, I’m hearing that a lot tonight.” Maisy’s expression must have said more than she meant it to, because Matilda scooched closer.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s right about Dan being a commitment-phobe, but Dan’s not some player, okay? He’s got his reasons and he’ll do right by you. He always does.”
“It’s fine, honestly,” Maisy smiled, but she was still a little unnerved by Carl’s stark warning and Dan’s behaviour at the bar.
“What do the fluorescent yellow bands mean?” Maisy asked, keen to change the subject.
“They’re for the dungeon monitors, the DMs, who patrol the scene areas and make sure every thing’s safe. There’s usually only one on a weeknight because there’s no nudity or heavy play until the weekend. All the masters pitch in on Fridays and Saturdays though.” Matilda glanced around, “Actually, if Joe got involved in the same thing as Dan I should step in now. Claude hates leaving the scene areas unwatched.”
She put an elegantly manicured hand inside her bustier and rummaged for a moment, it emerged holding a fluorescent band.
“Stop gawping, newbie. Fetish wear never comes with pockets.” She winked and fastened the band around her arm. Somehow the absurd colour didn’t detract from her impressive appearance in the least. “Be good.”
“You too, Ma’am,” she replied, earning an eye roll. Maisy could see the Domme becoming a firm friend, given the chance. She hoped she’d get the chance to make friends here.
As she watched Matilda walk away into the gloom of the tunnels she thought over what she’d said. No nudity or play on a weeknight, huh? That must be what Matthew had meant by weeknight rules.
Chapter 11
The List
Across the room, Maisy saw Dan’s amusement as Carl descended the stairs on his hands and knees. Neither Matthew nor the DM had emerged yet, maybe Dan had excused himself to get back to Maisy. She almost snorted at the absurdity of the thought. No, they must have had no further need for Daniel once they got the violent man upstairs to Claude, especially with William following.
Dan detoured to the bar on his way over to the shadowy booth. He didn’t bother ordering drinks from the remaining bar staff, choosing instead to pour them himself. Maisy could see the tight-lipped smile of the closest barmaid. The trainee apparently objected to his behaviour but didn’t have the authority to speak up. It was fun to watch her trying to wipe the disapproving expression from her face.
Luckily, Dan didn’t notice the bar staff at all, he was focused on returning to Maisy.
“Sorry about that, sweetheart.” He put the much delayed second gin and tonic in front of her.
“No problem,” she said, grabbing the drink eagerly. “Is she okay? What happened?”
Dan sat down beside her, glass of whiskey firmly in hand. “Kelsey’s fine, just pissed off. He was a new member this month, didn’t catch the name. He won’t be back again.”
“Gropey arsehole?”
Dan shrugged, “More or less. Not a Dom anyway, just a pushy, entitled, handsy prick.”
“Do you get a lot of that here?” The atmosphere of safety that Maisy had begun to value in Drift suddenly felt a little unstable.
Dan shook his head, “Absolutely not. One slips through the vetting process occasionally, it’s inevitable, but only once in a blue moon. New members are watched pretty closely too, people like that guy get caught out quickly. Most of them leave when they realise they have to put some effort in anyway. You’re safe here, sweetheart.”
She smiled, he’d seen her concern then. He was certainly observant.
“There’s something you should know, Maisy.”
“Oh yes?” She sipped her drink, keeping her expression neutral.
He hesitated before he spoke, appearing to choose his words as excerpts from a longer script. “I am out of practise.”
“Okay?”
“It’s been a long time since I played with anyone new to the lifestyle, even longer since I trained anyone. You understand?”
“I think so, yeah.” Was he going to explain why? There must be a reason the word ‘girlfriend’ makes him flinch and everyone knows him as a commitment-phobe.
“I’m not-” he hesitated again, “I am not used to seeing the same submissive multiple weeks in a row. I don’t date because I don’t do attachments. I don’t want you to think I don’t want you. You’re a beautiful woman and I’d be honoured to continue helping you to settle in to the club, but I don’t want to lead you on.” He kept breaking eye contact. The relaxed man she had been obeying all night had vanished.
“That’s fine. Really. I assumed you were just doing it as – I don’t know. I’m not expecting anything.” Never mind Harry’s double date plans then. “So why do we have to do this, if you don’t want to?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just complicated and Claude interfered, as usual.”
“So, how long do we have to-”
“You don’t have to. If you want to be a member here I’ll help you settle in in any way you like. I’ll give you my full attention for the next six weeks, unless you decide you don’t want it, in which case I’ll bugger off and Claude can stop playing games. You’ll still get your membership, I’ll make sure of it.”
Maisy nodded and glanced around the busy bar area. Having someone she knew help her settle in had seemed
unnecessary, but now she was ankle deep in this strange environment she recognised the value of a mentor.
She knew, rationally, that all of these people were perfectly normal and probably very friendly, but if she had to introduce herself to the people in lizard make-up over by the bathroom or that guy with such a large cage on his genitals she could see it through his pleather trousers she’d wuss out and just sit in the corner the whole night. And that’s without worrying about looking for someone to make her feel as aroused and safe as Dan had with the rope earlier.
So what if Daniel was only doing this as a favour to his boss, she’d never expected someone as green as her to catch a Dom like Dan anyway and it was nice to have someone to talk to.
“On board, little Maisy?”
“Why not?” She grinned as if it was nothing. “Will you help me with this list thing then, Sir?”
He grinned when he saw the booklet that contained the limits list, “That thing is a whole lot of fun. I should warn you, if you let me be your Dom while you’re here I will work with you to make sure you are honest about your limits. If you are being far too timid you will not get anything out of the experience here, understand?”
Her frowned, “Yes sir.”
“But?”
“But?”
“Why do you look so unhappy, Maisy?”
She made an effort to smooth her forehead “I’m fine, Sir.”
He sighed, “Remind me at some point that I owe you a spanking for lying. If you forget to remind me you’ll get double.”
She gulped, her bottom still stung from the last time. “It’s just, don’t take this the wrong way, but limits are so I can protect myself, right? That’s the one thing I don’t want you...I mean anyone to control.”
He nodded and pulled her into his side, a position she starting to like very much. “Sorry. I can see why you’d misinterpret what I said. Like I said, it’s has been a while since I’ve had a sub of my own or even been trainee Master here.
She wanted to ask why. She’d assumed all the ‘house crew’, as Carl called them, helped with the trainee programme, but something told her that Dan wouldn’t share his reasons.
Maybe Carl would fill her in another time. Dan affectionately tweaked a lock of her hair and she felt a pang of guilt. No. No more gossiping about him. That wasn’t on, especially as he’d ended up telling her everything she’d heard himself.
“What I meant to say was more that I’ll help you consider your limits so you understand how serious you are about them, yes?”
When she frowned again he swore and rubbed his head with his free hand. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m not going a good impression of an all-knowing Dom today, hey?”
She chuckled and shot him a cheeky look from under her eyelashes. “Third time lucky, Master Dan.”
He gave her hair less gentle tug, “Watch it, subbie.” But she saw the corner of his mouth turn up.
“Okay let’s try an example. I once knew a sub who walked in here with her limits list already filled out. She didn’t want any pain beyond a gentle spanking, and no full nudity, no public sex, humiliation, no anything. And that was fine. She made a good show of knowing what she wanted and we won’t turn a trainee submissive away because she isn’t kinky enough.
If all someone needs is a firm hand, some gentle orders, and a Dom to kneel for that’s more than fine with us. Hell, sounds like a perfect Sunday, right?”
“So what happened?” She noticed that she was stroking little circles on his arm with her fingertip while he spoke. He didn’t seem to mind.
“She was miserable,” he said, “She watched the other scenes and longed for them even as she refused to explore anything new. She’d brat like no-one’s business hoping to goad someone into hurting her more as punishment. She’d rub herself up against the Masters hoping to get fucked.”
Maisy nodded, “She was wrong about what she wanted?”
“In a way. She ticked the boxes that made herself feel safe and acceptable. That’s common in new subs, but for me to give you what you need I need to know more than that. I need to know what turns you on, what scares you a lot, what scares you just a little, what little itch you have deep inside you that’s just begging me to scratch it.”
The dark rumble of his voice was hypnotising. He reached his arm further around and placed his hand on her breast, heavy and possessive. She jumped, but settled after a breath. It felt oddly comfortable.
“I understand,” she said in a husky whisper.
“I hope so, because we’re going to test some limits next time. I want you to think about what you want between now and then. Now, let’s revisit how you feel about bondage after trying some ropes...”
Chapter 12
Home
The sunlight came through Maisy’s haphazardly drawn curtains in the usual way. Dappled light and shadows drawn by leaves danced across her bedspread bringing the embroidered flowers to life. The gentle hum of Harry’s radio in the room next door and the less gentle rumble of her snores.
Maisy stretched in the usual way, legs first - down with pointed toes, then wide like a starfish. Usually she’d stretch her arms out next, encountering her phone or a paperback abandoned somewhere under the covers in the process. Today, however, Maisy stretched her legs out wide and was confused by an unusual twinge of pain.
In an instant she was reminded of the events of the night before. She hadn’t realised that he’d spanked her hard enough to feel it the next day, but the faint sting as she pressed her arse into the mattress confirmed he had.
She wondered if she had a bruise in the same way one might wonder if they’d caught the sun. Like a traveller hoping for a suntan as a souvenir.
In her bed, in the warm morning breeze, Club Drift felt more like a dream than a memory. The unassuming door in the disused railway arch was like a wardrobe portal to her own secret Narnia.
She’d wandered from the streets of London into a place that was as friendly as it was alarming. The people there were strangers to Maisy, but now she’d been inducted into their world they all shared a secret.
Maybe that was why everyone smiled at her if she caught their eye. They didn’t know each other yet, but they were friends by default. Bound by their passports to this subterranean fantasy world.
Does that make Claude a religious sermon masquerading as a lion? Maisy rolled her eyes at her own ridiculous train of thought. Drift was no dream. Neither were its inhabitants and owner. Neither was Daniel.
Maisy rolled over and hugged her pillow, giving her sore arse a little breathing space. Daniel was something else entirely. Not a dream or a fantasy, although he looked like he belonged in one.
The way he’d focused on Maisy’s every reaction, watching her carefully with those intense dark eyes, made her feel safe. It was partly because of his attentiveness, she thought, that she’d been brave enough to try things out last night. She hadn’t realised how daunting it’d feel, even the simple things like kneeling, but he’d taken away her fear every time.
He had a straightforward way of speaking that pleased her. It wasn’t bluntness, although it was close to it at times, it was just unfiltered honesty so far as she could tell. He explained things that she had no idea about, and half the time was too nervous to ask about, without patronising. He seemed to enjoy sharing knowledge about the club as much as she enjoyed learning. As for the rest, his enjoyment of that was without question.
It was strange, but kneeling for him, being bound for him, just following his orders was more arousing and intimate than some sex Maisy had experienced in the past. And that was just the taster. A sip before the full glass.
She’d certainly been right about her desires, they were more than a mere fantasy, but how would she handle more when the taster left her feeling like she’d been kissed for the first time?
Harry’s alarm went off, shattering the birdsong and Maisy’s peaceful thoughts. They had a family dinner to attend and Harry wasn’t one to be late for free food.
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“WE’RE HERE!” MAISY shut the door haphazardly and breathed in the welcoming scents of home - freshly cut grass, cinnamon, and leather.
Her dad’s muddy boots were in the hallway instead of the porch again and her mum’s collection of scarves had upsized from the hall stand drawer to a huge freestanding basket. A new photo of her brother’s tiny son had appeared on the wall. There were always little changes from week to week, but this house still felt like home to Maisy. She suspected it always would.
Maisy’s mum came running from the kitchen covered in flour from blonde bob to fluffy slipper toe. She hugged both girls at once, not bothering to apologise for the powdery mess she was making of their clothes. Harry was a second daughter to Carol and often filled the gap left at the table by Maisy’s busy brother James and his little family.
“Did you make crumble?” Harry asked the moment she disentangled herself from the motherly hug.
“I’m fine thank you, Harriet.” Carol tutted and patted Harry’s shoulder affectionately. “Of course I did. I couldn’t forget my favourite girl’s favourite pudding.”
Maisy stepped back from the huddle in mock outrage. “She’s your favourite now? How dare you. I’m a better baker and I have fewer ripped tights.”
“Come here, girl, you’ll always be my favourite.” Maisy’s dad, Geoff, emerged from his den wearing a wide grin. He must have been hiding from the kitchen havoc with a book. The walls of his little room were lined with well stocked shelves. Maisy hugged him happily.
“Dinner’s nearly ready. Do you want to settle yourselves at the table...?” Carol let the end of the question linger a little longer than was necessary.
They all decided to help her finish up in the kitchen instead.
Chapter 13
Dinner Table Conversations
“So,” Geoff leaned back and rested his hands on his ample stomach, “What’s new with you girls?”
They’d polished off the pork, twice as many roast potatoes each as any human should eat in a week, and a large portion of rhubarb crumble with custard. They were the very image of sated gluttony; each slumped in their chairs and grinning slightly at nothing in particular.