Maisy's Keeper

by Saffron Hayes

  “I don’t think the kitchen counter is too much though, do you?”

  She looked at the kitchen island which, now she thought about it, was suspiciously clear of debris while the surfaces against the wall were cluttered with empty cans and plates. “Seriously?”

  “I never joke about sex, sweetheart.”

  He pulled her to her feet and wasted no time sweeping her up and taking her to the island. She shrieked with laughter as he put her down and her bare arse landed on the cold granite.

  “So Maisy,” he kissed her firmly and pushed her legs apart so he could stand between them. The shirt she’d borrowed from him slid up easily. “Do you want to be my good girl this morning?”

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered and reached for his lips.

  “Excellent.” He fisted his hand in her hair and pulled away so she couldn’t kiss him. “Enthusiasm is appreciated but greediness is not. Have fun figuring out the right balance.”

  He released her hair and she kissed him eagerly, shifting forward to the very edge of the counter so she could rub against his crotch with her own.

  “That might be just the right balance actually,” he laughed huskily and she felt him grow hard as she bucked her hips rhythmically.

  He groaned softly, apparently loathe to stop her, as he shifted her arse back a little and pushed her down flat on the counter.

  “Spread your legs wide and hold your ankles. I don’t want to have to get rope, sweetheart. Stay still no matter what.”

  He pulled her underwear off and she obeyed his instructions eagerly.

  He stepped back and assessed the sight in front of him. She tried to breathe steadily as he casually walked around her looking at every angle of her body.

  “You look beautiful spread for me, Maisy.”

  Her breath caught and she gripped her ankles tighter, “Thank you, Sir.”

  “So pretty,” he said, before bending between her legs and running his tongue down her slit.

  “Jesus,” she breathed, fighting the urge to close her legs.

  “Sorry?” He said, lifting his head and raising an eyebrow.

  “Nothing Sir,” she tensed as he ran his fingers around her entrance and up to her clit, stroking her hooded nub with her wetness.

  “Good girl,” he bent his head again and circled her clit with his clever tongue in an infuriating and firm pattern.

  She rocked her hips up and moaned and he stopped immediately.

  “What did I say about greed, Maisy,” he said, pushing his thumb against where his tongue had been. “Stay still.”

  She nodded and lay flat, determined to do as she was told.

  He bent his head and resumed his attentions to her clit, but this time he pushed his thick thumb inside her. She moaned loudly.

  “Now really, Maisy, it’s almost as if you never want to come.”

  THEY DECIDED TO GO to the shopping centre on the way to Club Drift. It was closer than going to back Maisy’s and they could grab a coffee along with a few planning supplies. Most of her work on the event was on her tablet anyway and that lived in her handbag. Always.

  They walked arm in arm. It was nice to just wander together, in no rush, passing through the world in their own content bubble. They stopped at a window to peer at lingerie that caught Maisy’s eye, but decided it was just too pink to suit her.

  As they stood there contemplating skin tone and lace, Daniel’s hand snaked up Maisy’s neck and tightened in her hair before she could guess what he was doing. Taken by surprise by the possessive gesture, Maisy let out a high-pitched squeal causing several passers-by to turn and look. Maisy batted his hand away, unsure whether to blush or laugh.

  “Maybe I should make you wear a gag when we’re out, little piggy.”

  “Mm, maybe I should get a curly tail butt plug too.”

  Daniel’s eyes brightened.

  “Oh no, mister. That was definitely a joke.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I mean it!” She thumped his chest gently to emphasise her point. He laughed and covered her small fist with his big hand.

  “You’re fiesty today.”

  Before she could reply a bellow came from the fountain area adjacent to the food court.

  “Oi! Get your fucking hands off her.”

  “Wha-fuck me.” Daniel ducked, but the fist still connected.

  “James! James stop it, what the hell are you doing? James!” Maisy pulled at the stranger’s arm while Daniel tried to make sense of the situation.

  An angry young man had thrown himself at Daniel, fist swinging. Maisy evidently knew him and she was really, really cross with him. A woman holding a baby hovered anxiously nearby, torn between intervening and protecting her infant.

  The angry man swung at Daniel again and Maisy stepped between them, catching a glancing blow to her shoulder. Seeing Maisy put herself in harm’s way finally shook Dan into action. Split lip forgotten, he pulled her behind him by her good arm and looked back to check on her, not wanting to turn his back on their assailant.

  “You alright?”

  Her lip wobbled and she held her arm, but Dan knew the misfired blow couldn’t have really hurt her. Daniel looked at the other man and saw that his face held a similar expression to Maisy’s.

  “I’m so sorry. Maisy, I didn’t mean to – Christ. I am so sorry,” the man said.

  Maisy just shook her head, eyes wide with shock and anger. Daniel wasn’t sure who this man was or why Maisy was affected this way, but he needed to get her somewhere safe and hold her until that look disappeared from her face.

  “I think you should leave.” Daniel said, the woman with the baby stepped closer and hissed “For God’s sake, come on.”

  The man, James, looked between them. He had the bemused expression of a person who’d wandered into a casino looking for a nunnery. “I heard you cry out. He was hurting you. I heard you cry out.”

  Apparently unable to articulate her thoughts Maisy groaned, “You bloody... you....”, She groaned again.

  “Take a breath, sweetheart. Who’s this idiot?”

  “Oi!” James objected, but nobody paid him any attention.

  “This is my idiot brother,” Maisy said, “Oh God, look what he’s done to your face. Look what you’ve done to his face!”

  James’s face, already ruddy by nature, was turning positively beetroot as the scale of his mistake gradually dawned on him. “Look sis, I heard you shriek and saw red. You’d have done the same.”

  Maisy scoffed, “I might have asked you if you were alright before I punched a stranger. In front of Connor for Christ’s sake.” She gestured at the infant, whose happy gurgling didn’t really illustrate her point.

  The baby’s mother, Maisy’s sister-in-law apparently, stepped closer now things had calmed done, “I’m sorry, Maisy, I couldn’t stop him in time. Bloody fool.”

  “Oi!” James said. Everybody ignored him.

  Behind the clenched fists and fiery eyes Maisy looked close to tears. Daniel knew he couldn’t leave it like this.

  “Look, let’s just sit down and meet properly, what do you say? Coffee?” Maisy looked at Daniel as if he’d grown two heads, but James’s beleaguered wife agreed heartily and ferried them towards the nearest café before James or Maisy could put up too much of a fight.

  Chapter 29

  The Difference

  Daniel slammed his front door, wincing at the sound of glass rattling in the antique frame. He’d kept it together well enough while they smoothed things over with Maisy’s brother. The brother’s wife, Anne, had been so furious with her slap-happy spouse that she’d come across as rude to begin with, but she turned out to be warm, intelligent, and witty. He could see why Maisy liked her.

  The kid was charming too. He was barely able to string two words together, but he’d worked his way into Daniel’s good books in a flash.

  Daniel had even kept in good humour while he and Maisy finished their shopping and travelled to Club Drift, but as soon as they’d ar
rived Dan escaped to the office, leaving Maisy working in the club with Claude.

  He’d stolen away home before they emerged from their meeting too. He rationalised this by reminding himself he needed to get changed before his evening at the club anyway, but really he just wanted some time alone.

  Before he’d left he’d passed by the nook they worked in, concealed by the bar. Claude had been bent over a checklist, Maisy had been on the phone. Dan gritted his teeth just remembering it, “No, no, I don’t know much about Mr. Leroy’s business. No, I haven’t seen him. I don’t know anything about a fetish club, of course I don’t. Who do you think I am? Alright. No, I’m not dating him and I don’t appreciate the assertion. Do you have anything to ask that’s actually about work?”

  Daniel had left then, Maisy’s phrasing ringing in his ears. Who do you think I am? She’d sounded disgusted.

  Daniel picked up a beer on his way to the living room, not even pausing to look at the washing up from breakfast. He needed to stew.

  Maisy’s James was just looking out for her, of course, Dan couldn’t begrudge him the split lip too much. They’d even parted, tentatively, as friends. James was still embarrassed by his overreaction, but overall it’d been smoothed over. Maisy was teased for being noisy. They’d all blushed when Maisy said that she squealed because Daniel had pinched her arse.

  Daniel knew in that moment what a big mistake he’d made inviting her into his home. Into his life.

  Did it matter? That she’d confess to having her arse groped but not to having her hair tugged? Not really. But Daniel knew what the little white lie was hiding.

  Everything they were to each other, all the D/s compatibility that had driven them into each other’s arms despite each of their best efforts, it’d all fall to pieces if anyone else knew. That’s why she’d said one thing and not the other, because if anyone ‘normal’ knew what they were to each other they’d be disgusted.

  If that beautiful nuclear family knew that Maisy was willingly his, knew what they were behind Club Drift’s doors, they’d do more than throw a punch at him.

  So it was a secret, a little white lie to hide a bigger sin. So they’d smoothed it over for now. What about next time? What about when someone she loved, her brother or her roommate, found a note or a text message or a collar that told them everything? Would they force them apart? Would they call the police? Would Maisy -

  Not again. I can’t do that again. Daniel gripped his untouched beer so hard his knuckles turned white. He’d been an idiot. He’d kept away from attachments for years because he knew: this is how it happens. He couldn’t see Maisy hurt like that. Worse, he couldn’t see Maisy turn against him like that. He put the beer on the coffee table, still unopened, and picked up his phone to dial the Club. There was only one thing to do to prevent that. However hard it would be for him, he had to pull away from Maisy before he fell for her any more than he already had.

  MAISY CONTEMPLATED her uncharacteristically shiny backside in Harry’s full length mirror. She was glad her roommate was out for the evening, because this was a sight she needed more than the tiny bathroom mirror to fully appreciate.

  The latex skirt had come with a free aerosol can of ‘Spray Shine,’ but Maisy wasn’t sure what to do with it. Was she meant to spray the skirt after she’d got it on or before? She scanned the label again and, having found no pertinent information, shrugged and sprayed one arse cheek.

  She rolled her hips experimentally and grinned when she saw an astonishingly shiny, almost sparkling, patch glinting in the bedroom light. Yup, definitely more of that on both arse cheeks, thank you very much.

  She’d almost forgotten she’d ordered the skirt. Harry had signed for the delivery while Maisy was out with Dan and, luckily, hadn’t thought to ask what was in it. Not that the skirt was particularly obscene; it was just very obviously fetish wear and that was a conversation she wasn’t ready to have with her oldest friend quite yet.

  Maisy had never been made to feel unwelcome at Club Drift, but the more time she spent there the more she felt her clothes lacked something. Despite wearing increasingly revealing outfits every weekend, she’d still felt out of place in the sea of flamboyantly dressed guests. Last weekend she’d realised what was missing: exclusivity. Not exclusivity in terms of expense or uniqueness, but in her own life.

  She needed to own something that was only to be worn to Club Drift; an outfit that only existed in the hours she was being herself, being submissive, with Dan. So, after a tortuous hour of online shopping, she’d bought her first item of fetish wear.

  She hadn’t mentioned it to Dan yet, so watching his reaction when she arrived at the club was going to be fun. Hopefully, she’d get a chance to take off her outerwear in the changing room first so he could get the full effect all at once.

  She’d decided to wear a lacy black longline bralette, which looked like it’d been paired with the skirt deliberately, but really she’d just given up finding a top in her wardrobe that looked alright with the latex.

  Dan had left her alone with Claude almost immediately after they’d arrived at the club that afternoon. He said something about needing to talk to some suppliers upstairs in the office. She hadn’t even seen him to say goodbye before she came home to get changed, but it hadn’t seemed worth it to distract him seeing as she’d be back soon anyway.

  Polishing plans with Claude hadn’t felt like work at all; he’d been a model client by anyone’s standards. They’d settled on Maisy’s fetish-formal dress code idea, mostly because they were both curious to see what the regulars would come up with.

  They were inviting Claire’s friend’s band to play and measuring the bar to see if it could safely serve as a stage. All the suppliers that Maisy had contacted were absolutely fine with Claude’s privacy terms and none of them had batted an eyelash at familiar caller Maisy opening a new business account.

  One of them, the florist, had even asked whether she should play dumb if she had to talk to Michael or a company representative at any point. Bright lady; Maisy had always liked her.

  Claude still hadn’t decided whether to risk anonymity for the sake of a sit-down meal instead of hors d’oeuvres, but everyone agreed they needed to make the decision as soon as possible. Preferably tonight, actually. Aside from an intriguing sounding suspension demonstration by Matilda, Maisy wasn’t sure what she and Dan were doing at the club tonight. Hopefully, she’d get a chance to get Claude’s final decision on the anniversary event refreshments, even if they had to flip a coin to make their minds up.

  Chapter 30

  Detached

  “Oh. My. Stars,” Carl exclaimed, gesturing for Maisy to give him a spin. She complied, feeling more confident than usual in her new outfit.

  “Darling, I cannot in good faith let you into this club. You’re Dom bait. Just look at you! They’ll flock to you like flies to shit and you know that’ll make Master Dan even grumpier than he already is.”

  “Dan’s grumpy?” Maisy frowned, he’d been fine earlier. Maybe he’d had trouble with one of the phone calls he’d rushed off to make.

  “That’s the only part you heard wasn’t it, honey? Well, you’d best go cheer him up then, come here.” He bent to mark her off on the attendance list and then stamped her hand.

  Where did Claude get handcuff stamps anyway? She’d have to ask him. That would be a supplier contact well worth having. She saw that Carl’s roots were dusted with gold glitter today to match his shining red and gold hot pants. He was always so coordinated.

  “Thanks Carl. See you in a while, yeah? Matilda said you were helping her with a demonstration.”

  “I am permitting her to dangle me from the ceiling with her very own naturally produced spider webbing, if that’s what you mean.” He winked and waved her away because a group of trainees had just arrived and needed his attention.

  Maisy heard him say, “Well, I am entirely in love with everything about that wig...” as the door to the main club shut behind her, blocking out
the mundanity of London Bridge and replacing it with another world.

  Dan was over by the bar talking to Claude. Why was Daniel wearing a fluorescent armband? He hadn’t said anything about having DM duty tonight; maybe someone had called in sick. Maisy selfishly hoped it wouldn’t stop them enjoying each other’s company. It’d be a shame to waste the skirt.

  Claude looked upset from where Maisy was standing by the door. She hovered there a moment, watching Claude gesticulating at Dan. Should she leave them to it until they was done or distract them from whatever disagreement they were having?

  She decided to interrupt. They were both Club Drift Masters, if her presence wasn’t welcome they’d soon ask her to give them a moment to themselves. Dan’s back was to the door Maisy had entered through, so he hadn’t seen her yet. When she reached the bar she threw her arms around his waist. “Guess who, Sir?”

  Dan froze for a moment, as she’d thought he might, but the moment went on too long. He turned and placed his hands on the outside of her forearms, pushing her away as civilly as possible.

  Claude backed off a few feet without greeting Maisy or saying anything to pause his conversation with Dan. The strangeness of the moment chilled Maisy’s blood, “Sir? What’s wrong?”

  He still held her forearms gently. He didn’t kiss her or take her in his arms. His eyes didn’t meet Maisy’s the whole time. At first she thought he was unwell; he was so unlike himself. But then he spoke. “Sweetheart, we need to talk.”

  The world slowed and Maisy’s stomach lurched. She remembered this feeling from years ago, when her car once skidded out of control on a busy road. As Dan spoke, just as in the moments before her car crashed, Maisy’s senses processed what was happening faster than her thoughts could catch up with, so she felt like she was witnessing the event in slow motion.

  This had come in quite handy after the car crash, when the police had asked what had happened in those thirty seconds between the everyday and the catastrophic. When it was something more personal and infinitely more painful, though, Maisy found there was no real use for this biological quirk at all. The phrase ‘we need to talk’ coming unexpectedly from a partner’s lips is one sure way to trick a brain into feeling that the world is about to come crashing down.