by Poppy Flynn
Micah met her as she walked through the club's reception area. He looked her up and down with a wolfish grin and then whistled. "Whoa, just look at those legs! They go on and on and just don't quit."
Charlotte's tiny bit of confidence fled, and she ducked her head as tears prickled behind her eyes. She bit her lip to keep from saying anything, but how was it fair that she couldn't say anything bad about herself and yet he could?
Charlotte trailed to a stop and wondered if she should leave. Hesitantly, she glanced back at the entrance, half turning with her indecision. She had wanted to be here, had been excited, but if this kind of verbal taunting was going to be part of the deal, then maybe she was in the wrong place, after all. Her self-esteem didn't need any more knocks.
The next moment, Micah was there, invading her personal space. "Hey! What just happened?" he asked softly, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifting her face to meet his assessment and taking note of the sheen of tears that glazed her eyes.
"Talk to me, sweetheart. Communication is crucial here."
Charlotte swallowed. "How come I can get spanked for putting myself down, but it's okay for you to do it?"
Micah's big hands landed heavily on her shoulders and he pushed her to arms' length as he stared down at her in shock, his raised eyebrows beetling down into the deep frown that followed. "What in hell's name are you talking about, woman?" he asked roughly.
"You teased me about my legs," Charlotte pouted.
Micah's eyes widened once again, then he pulled her close and pinned her to him as his chest rose and fell, vibrating with the laughter that spilled from his lips.
That was the last straw. Charlotte struggled to free herself from his hold.
"There's no need to laugh at me, as well," she gritted through her teeth as she shrugged his arm off. "I'm going home. Obviously, this was a bad idea."
"Aw, honey, come on." Micah reached for her again, but Charlotte ducked away. "Sweet pea, I wasn't laughing at you…" He came after her as she hurried to the door.
"It doesn't matter, Micah." Charlotte's voice was choked as she rushed to get away.
"Damn it, baby, will you just stop and listen to me?"
She didn't. She had the door open and was halfway out of it when a pair of huge muscled arms grabbed her around the waist and hauled her away from the entranceway.
Turning on his heel, Micah spun back inside and shoved her bodily against the wall, trapping her with his bulk.
Charlotte wriggled and squirmed, trying futilely to extract herself until Micah grasped both her wrists in one large hand and held them above her head.
"Listen to me, sweetie…"
Charlotte straightened her spine and stamped her foot, anger suddenly replacing her insecurities. The damn man had ruined her evening!
"Don't you sweetie me," she raged.
"Baby, please…"
She cut him off. "I am not your baby, and I don't want to listen to anything you've got to damn well say."
She pulled ineffectually at her arms.
"You've got it all wrong, pet," Micah entreated.
"Just let me go and…"
Charlotte didn't manage to say another thing. Before she knew what had hit her, Micah's soft lips had covered her own, his tongue plunging into her open mouth and stealing her words as well as her breath. Her arms were suddenly free, but Micah took her face in both his hands, holding her still as he plundered her lips and robbed her of air.
Her struggles ceased as she went limp in his arms. Members drifted through the lobby, some commenting, some chuckling, but Micah didn't lift his head until Charlotte's brain was well and truly scrambled, and all her recent thoughts had spun away.
When he finally raised his head, Charlotte was dazed. "You kissed me," she whispered, touching her fingers to her lips.
"I did," Micah agreed.
"Why?" Charlotte frowned.
"Because you wouldn't listen."
The dazed look left Charlotte's eyes in an instant, replaced with indignation. "You kissed me to shut me up?" she shrieked, her voice rising with each word.
"And I'll do it again if I need to," Micah confirmed nonchalantly.
Charlotte opened her mouth to form a retort, but Micah hushed her with a finger against her lips. "Let's get one thing straight, pet. I was not teasing you! What I said about your legs was meant as a compliment…"
"But..." Charlotte spluttered, but Micah shook his head and just continued. "I happen to adore long legs; they are one of my favourite features on a woman, and yours are phenomenal."
"But…"
Micah ignored her interruption and continued. "Now, why you would automatically take what I said as a negative, when nothing negative was actually said, shows that you have some body image issues that need handling. We'll work on those."
"But…" Micah shook his head and carried on. "In the meantime, while you are here, I want you to think carefully about anything that is said which upsets you before you go off on one and consider the context and whether or not it was meant the way you assumed," he insisted gently.
"But…"
Charlotte's words were once again cut off by Micah's mouth covering hers.
"No buts!" he retorted when he finally freed her lips.
Charlotte's next words were tentative. "Why did you kiss me again?" she asked hesitantly.
Micah winked. "That time, sugar, I kissed you because I wanted to."
"And what's with all the endearments?" Charlotte queried. "You get through so many women, you can't keep their names straight?"
Bending close to her ear, he chuckled. "The endearments are because you still haven't told me whether you wish to have the discretion of a pseudonym." He tapped her chin. "Now remember what I said about assumptions, missy. You're headed the right way to earn yourself a damn good spanking. You need to watch your mouth; most Doms won't tolerate that kind of lip from a submissive. I'm just going gently with you, since you're new."
Charlotte felt properly chastised, but subtly so. "Yes," she sighed.
Micah raised his eyebrows. "Protocol?" he reminded.
"Yes, Sir!" Charlotte corrected herself. "And thank you. I do want to use a pseudonym."
"Have you chosen one?"
Charlotte nodded. "Cha-Cha, a shortening of Charlotte Chapman," she whispered, taking a nervous look around to check no one was within earshot. "It's what Desi used to call me in college, so I'm kinda used to it and I'll know people are still referring to me."
"Excellent!" Micah grinned, bending to drop a playful kiss on the end of her nose. "Come on then, Cha-Cha. Let's get this show on the road."
With that, he took her hand and strode through the lobby at such a pace that Charlotte had to trot to keep up.
An hour later, she was wondering if her knees would ever be the same again. She and the rest of the trainee subs had been practicing basic positions, and the foremost of those had been kneeling—kneeling with her back straight and knees apart, with her raised palms resting on her thighs, kneeling with her knees together and her wrists crossed behind her back, kneeling while bent forwards with her forehead pressed to the ground. Standing from kneeling positions, kneeling from standing positions. Thank the goddesses she had been allowed to take her shoes off and that Micah had been there to help her. Eventually, she was assured, she'd be able to manage all of them easily and unassisted. Right now, Charlotte was absolutely certain she knew what a piece of origami felt like. She was that origami. People origami. She knew it was possible. She'd lived it!
Desi had once joked to her about a girl at her company who had bent herself up into what Desi had titled the 'human pretzel position' while trying to show off her assets to the Blackwood cousins. Yeah, Charlotte was pretty sure that girl had probably taken some pointers from this place. They definitely knew all about human pretzels.
She'd also been given a whole bunch of stretching exercises to practice, twice a day, which apparently would help gain the suppleness and gra
ce required to achieve the necessary precision. Charlotte reckoned she could probably cancel her gym membership if this panned out, 'cause she sure as heck wasn't going to need it!
Already, her legs felt like overcooked noodles and she just knew her muscles were going to ache like crazy, tomorrow, and probably for longer than that. Jeez, she was a glutton for punishment, and this wasn't exactly the kind she'd had in mind when she undertook this challenge. She was aching and sweaty and, so far, for all the wrong reasons, quite frankly!
When Micah helped her up for the last time that evening, Charlotte only hoped she could manage to leave the building without looking like she was obviously bandy legged and hobbling as if she was doing an impression of a saddle-sore John Wayne trying to walk through quicksand. The thought of a nice hot bubble bath had never held more appeal.
The following week, she dressed in shiny lycra boy shorts and a comfortable cropped vest top. Sod looking fancy, tonight, she was definitely aiming for comfortable. She just knew they were going to have to demonstrate all those damn kneeling positions again, and she had stretched and practiced, religiously, every single day, in an effort not to look like a complete dork. Of course, she had to use the back of a chair to manage the ups and downs, but hopefully, assistance would still be acceptable at this early stage…and no shoes. She was pretty sure it was impossible with heels, anyway!
And demonstrate, they did. Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief that all her preparations had paid off to some extent. Micah seemed to think so, at least, and he was effusive in his praise.
"Excellent job, Cha-Cha!" He grinned as she attempted her first solo kneel from a standing position and even managed it with a certain amount of grace.
Charlotte felt like a little girl who had just been rewarded with a lollipop, especially when a couple of the other trainees gave her a little clap.
"You're obviously a natural," Micah enthused.
Ha! Natural, my ass, Charlotte thought. It was pure hard-work that had gotten her this far, though she chose not to correct the misconception.
"We're moving on to toys this week," he told the group at large.
Charlotte hadn't realised at the start, but in his role as Manager / Psychologist, Micah led all the training courses that the club provided. She realised in hindsight that this was why he'd been hesitant at taking her on as his submissive; his role as her Dom divided his attention from the group as a whole. He had assured her, though, that he had made arrangements for one of the club submissives—Fluff, he had called her—to help cover him so that Charlotte wasn't side-lined in any way.
Still, Charlotte had to do a double take as none other than Laurel Stanton joined the group, dressed in a skin-tight leather mini dress and pushing what looked, for all the world, like a hostess trolley, laden with all manner of kinky things.
She was undecided as to whether Laurel hadn't seen her or whether the girl was just following some kind of protocol, but she didn't acknowledge Charlotte at all as she made her way from couple to couple handing each party an item from the tray she carried. Until she stepped in front of Micah and handed him a pair of nipple clamps. Laurel glanced briefly at Charlotte and gave her a surreptitious wink before moving to the next couple.
Despite having no time to return the subtle greeting, Charlotte felt her face blaze and, even in the soft light, she knew Micah noticed.
What's the matter, pet?" he frowned.
"It's nothing!" Charlotte murmured hurriedly as Laurel passed her again, throwing her a tiny smile.
Micah intercepted the small byplay and nodded his head. "Of course—Fluff." He raised an eyebrow. "You know each other?"
Charlotte nodded once.
"I should have realised, since you are both quite close to Desi Blackwood. Is it a problem?"
"No!" She shook her head more vigorously this time. "It was just a surprise seeing her here…her seeing me here. I didn't know she…" Charlotte trailed off, not knowing quite how to put it.
Luckily, Micah seemed to understand. "Yes, it can throw you sometimes when you meet people from your everyday life in this environment. That's why we are all so aware of each other's privacy. It's entirely likely that you'll meet other people you know in the future, but don't worry, no one will ever mention it to anyone else outside these four walls. That's why we have the non-disclosure agreements in place," he reassured as he absently handed her the nipple clamps.
Micah stood for a moment and addressed the group. "Okay, everyone. You should all have your first toy selection. Subs, I'd like you to take a good look at the item you're holding and discuss it with your Dom, because you'll all be trying them out shortly. So, now is the time for any questions. Be assured that your Dom is well practiced in all the toys we'll be examining."
He motioned for Laurel to come forward. "Also, I'd like to introduce you all to Fluff. She is one of our more experienced club submissives, and she will be assisting for the duration of your training. Feel free to ask her any questions, as well. We're all here to help, and communication is vital in this lifestyle, so don't hesitate to find answers and discuss any issues."
One of the other subs, who went by the name of 'Flower', tentatively raised a hand.
"Do you have a question, Flower?" Micah asked.
The girl nodded her head shyly. "What is a 'club submissive', Sir? Is that what we'll be when we're finished?"
Micah shook his head. "A club submissive or a club Dom is a someone who is more involved here than a general member. They offer their services, sometimes in exchange for discounted fees, but always because they are committed to the lifestyle. They are generally unattached, always experienced, and make themselves available for training sessions such as these. Also, as Dungeon Monitors, to keep the club supervised or as play partners for members who wish to put on displays or who maybe want to just be sure they find someone compatible with their own kink. And sometimes, they act as escorts for visiting members who don't have time to troll for their own hook-ups," he explained.
"While anyone can apply to be a club sub or a club Dom, they are all vetted very carefully; they have to have a minimum of three years' experience and have been an active member for at least two years—though those can run concurrently—along with retaining an immaculate track record."
Charlotte shot a furtive look at Laurel, who she estimated at maybe five years younger than her own thirty years, and wondered at how long the girl had been in the lifestyle.
She was brought out of her musings when Micah dropped down next to her once again and drew her attention back to the item in her hands. "Right, have you used these before?" he asked.
Charlotte glanced down at her hands and looked at the nipple clamps in surprise, only just realising what she held. She gave the two individual items a harder look but shook her head. "No, I haven't, and these ones don't look like any I've seen before, either. I expected them to be more like clothes pegs with a chain attaching them together," she replied.
Micah took one of the clamps from her. "There are several different types. What you're thinking of is an alligator clamp. These are called tweezer clamps." He held one up in front of her and it did indeed resemble a pair of tweezers, albeit with a light tassel hanging from the end. "This type is ideal for beginners because the tension can be adjusted with this little ring that slides up or down to create more or less of a pinch," he said as he demonstrated. "This is also a good option for a Dom who wants a little bit of decoration." He smiled, tapping the tassel and setting it swaying. "Or even a small weight."
Charlotte shuddered at that idea, although she wasn't quite sure whether in anticipation or fear.
"So, are you ready to try them out?" Micah winked mischievously.
Jake stripped off the fluorescent armband after the Dungeon Monitor shift he'd volunteered for ended and scowled at his friend and business partner, Connor Griffin, who had just accused him of 'doing a Joel'.
They were sitting in the sumptuous lounge area of the lavish, original Club Risqué, wher
e he and Joel, Connor and Logan had each cut their Dominant teeth, so to speak, a decade and a half ago and in which the four of them had partnered to become co-owners several years before. Now they had 'Perversions' as the newest Club Risqué on the East Coast, and they had plans for more to follow, to create a countrywide chain firmly based in exceptional practice, now that the BDSM scene was a little more readily accepted.
But despite the way the clubs were taking off and his commitment to making the BDSM club circuit a more regulated and safer place, now that it was gaining popularity, his personal interest in the lifestyle seemed to be waning. He supposed that's what Connor meant when he'd made the flip comment comparing him to his cousin.
Jake knew that Joel had volunteered long stretches as a DM himself, shortly before he'd gotten back together with Desi, but Joel's had been a completely different motivation, more to do with his cousin's inability to find a sub who completely suited his individual kink and the determination not to settle for less.
Jake had no such issues. There were always plenty of subs willing to play with him and his signal whip. His reputation was solid and the subs all knew they never had to worry about him going too far. Completely the opposite, in fact. It was more likely that he'd come across a masochist who complained that he didn't strike hard enough because Jake was certainly no sadist.
It was easy to pick up a whip and let it fly, but it took a master to learn to wield it with such care that the lick of the tail was more like a kiss than a brand. And that was what had drawn him to the implement. The desire to take an object that was most associated with pain and give it an alternative reality, to create the pinnacle of pleasure by using his whip to stroke and caress.