Fear's Whisper (Club Risque Book 2)

by Poppy Flynn

  She wasn't completely sure what Micah's motivation was, but he'd almost seemed relieved by her suggestion and most certainly pleased with the overall outcome of their negotiation.

  Micah smiled as he led Charlotte over to one of the impact stations. He was indeed pleased. Charlotte's request for an extension and their subsequent agreement to a monthly rolling contract was perfect. He could minimise the disruption that he anticipated she'd cause at the club, keep her tucked safely under his wing and still work on finding her a suitable partner. He could even provide her with the opportunity to scene with those who might prove suitable until she was comfortable moving onto something more enduring and he was in a position to turn her care over to a new Master.

  Maybe it was down to the lack of sexual intimacy between them muddying the water, but Micah had grown unusually fond of Charlotte. He cared about her in a way that he didn't care for the other submissives at the club, except maybe Trinity.

  No, that wasn't quite true. He cared for all the submissives at the club, whether attached or unattached, whether he'd been intimate with them or not. With Charlotte, it was different. Not quite the older brother mentality, because he had no trouble imagining doing all manner of things to, and with, the little sub that weren't the least bit brotherly, but she brought forth a protective instinct within him that he'd rarely experienced before and which he didn't really know how to quantify.

  He understood himself well enough to know that he didn't want to keep her. Not indefinitely, anyway, but he did want the best for her and he was prepared to do everything in his power to provide that.

  Micah stopped at a barricaded area and decided to stop dissecting a relationship he didn't quite understand and simply accept it for what it was. Two people who shared a mutual trust and appreciation for the other, who chose to work together until it was time for them each to move on. Maybe it wasn't so different from his relationship with Trinity, after all. He firmly believed that he would consider Charlotte as a very close friend for the rest of his life.

  Cordoned off, with thick ropes attached to heavy poles, this impact station's centrepiece was a single, sturdy chain hanging from the ceiling. The permanent barriers offered plenty of space for even the longest whip to be wielded without fear of harm to any of the onlookers.

  Micah hoped Charlotte was mentally ready for the inevitable spectators because they were drawing quite a crowd. He wondered, briefly, if he should offer her a blindfold, but he knew sensory deprivation was one of her hard limits and he understood why, still…

  Grasping her hand and pulling her into the centre, Micah reattached the small chain to the cuffs she still wore on each of her wrists and fastened them together again, this time, in front of her. He placed an endearingly chaste kiss on her still smiling mouth and held her face in both his big hands.

  "Are you ready for this?" he asked earnestly.

  "Of course," she beamed. "This is what I asked for." Her smile was enough to light up all the dark corners of the dungeon and Micah couldn't help but return it and bend to taste it once again.

  "What about the people?" he asked hesitantly. "Normally, I'd offer you a blindfold, but I know…"

  Charlotte's eyes widened as she finally acknowledged the growing crowd.

  "No!" she interrupted. "You're right. A blindfold would scare me more than the people."

  Her eyes darted about, taking it all in.

  "Remember, we don't have to do this if you're not completely comfortable. That's your prerogative. You can call things off at any time." Micah watched her carefully, monitoring the smallest reaction. He saw the resolve in her eyes, even before she steeled her spine and squared her shoulders.

  "No!" she declared decisively. "I'm not worried about the crowd. I'm not completely comfortable being totally nude just yet, but I do know that will come in time. I spent enough years being forced into naked communal bathing to know that it's not the end of the world." She looked Micah right in the eye. "And this is different," she acknowledged decisively. "This is my choice. I'm doing this because I want to, not because someone is making me. Right here and right now, I am in control, and I refuse to let anything that happened in my past take that away from me!"

  "Atta girl!" Micah approved, pressing a hard, wet kiss on her lips. "Then let's do this."

  Raising her arms above her head, he secured Charlotte's cuffs to the chain and checked that she was comfortable before moving over to an equipment cabinet and removing a long, slim leather pouch that she noticed had his name inscribed on it. From it, he withdrew his prized mini bullwhip.

  Crossing back to Charlotte, he held it up in his right hand while running the length of it through his left until it was stretched out in front of her. "This is a bullwhip," he informed in an almost 'teacher like' fashion.

  Charlotte frowned. "I thought bullwhips were longer."

  Micah smiled, pleased that she was engaging and obviously thinking about the situation, rather than blindly being led. "This is a mini bullwhip, ideal for indoor use in this kind of environment." He caressed the leather with his fingers. "It has a three-foot-long fall and an eight-inch handle." Micah tossed the handle and caught it at the base, holding it up for her to see. "Having a handle makes it easier to manipulate and control." Then he held up the other end, as well. "This one doesn't have a cracker or a popper as it's sometimes called. That means it doesn't make the really loud whip-cracking sound that everyone associates with the implement. The sound can add flamboyance and drama to a scene, but with a beginner, it's more likely to scare them witless." Micah looked her in the eye. "Not having a cracker doesn't mean that it doesn't make a noise," he warned. "It just means it isn't as loud. Just like a dog, sometimes its bark is worse than its bite. It all depends on how it's wielded."

  Micah dropped the long end to sit on her shoulder and caressed her cheek with the soft leather of the handle. "Now, are you ready for this? We'll start gently, back and front. You'll probably barely feel it."

  "No!" Charlotte called before he could move away, and Micah immediately dropped the whip to the floor. He reached up as if to release the cuffs, but Charlotte stopped him again. "Wait! Micah!"

  She took a deep breath. "I want to lose the corset," she appealed.

  Micah's eyes widened just fractionally, the only outward sign that she'd surprised him. "Are you sure?" he queried.

  "I'm certain," Charlotte affirmed. "I want to get the most out of this initial experience. I'm not ready to lose all my clothing, but I'm good with this much. I want to be able to feel, and with all this brocade and boning, I'm pretty sure that will be impossible unless you completely shred the fabric and…" she admitted sweetly "…I am rather fond of it."

  Micah wound his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, landing a feather light kiss on the end of her nose as he squeezed her gently.

  "Ah, my intrepid little sub, I'll make this good for you," he promised.

  As Micah moved to the ties on her back and started undoing the laces, Charlotte closed her eyes and felt a certain calm settle over her. She basked in the awareness of Micah's hands against her skin, brushing and stroking every bit of flesh he uncovered.

  She felt no anxiety as he finally removed the corset from her body, leaving her standing in her pretty white boots, the thigh high hold-up stockings and a pert pair of frilly knickers which marched several rows of ruffles across her butt and which undoubtedly had many of the 'Daddy Doms salivating, if they hadn't been already.

  Leaving her briefly to safely dispense with her clothing, Micah returned, and she could feel the warmth of his body as he ran his fingers across every inch of her skin. Head down, eyes closed, Charlotte was happily absorbed in the pleasant sensation when he abruptly stopped. When his hands moved again, they were tentative, probing. She knew what he had found. Knew he would have questions. Sighing out a breath of resignation, Charlotte opened her eyes and lifted her head. She tried to look over her right shoulder but still couldn't see him.

  Micah's
hand came around her waist, splaying his fingers across her abdomen and holding her close. He dipped his head towards hers and she felt his breath against her cheek. "You have welts on your back, Charlotte." She knew he was stunned since he'd used her given name, even though he'd whispered.

  "Yes," she acknowledged. "I'd almost forgotten."

  "Forgotten?" Micah uttered in disbelief. How could she have forgotten? Was she just supressing memories that might be triggered if they played the way they'd planned. Feeling the tiny scars on her skin had him suddenly hesitant to continue.

  "This happened at the commune?" he probed carefully. There might be another reasonable explanation for the marks.

  "Yes," she agreed but still didn't elaborate.

  Micah closed his eyes and pressed his mouth against her shoulder. She wasn't giving much away. Why was that? Because it truly wasn't important or because she was in denial?

  He considered his words carefully. "You were beaten?"

  She nodded.

  "How many times?"

  "Just once." She seemed calm, resigned to talking about the incident but not completely reticent or frightened by it.

  "This was an important piece of information, Cha-Cha. It's something that should have been discussed before we got this far."

  "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I really didn't give it much thought. It's not something I have a problem with." She took another deep breath. "There are many things I have issues with after my time with the Disciples of Modesty, but this isn't one of them. Maybe it should be…" she admitted. "But, if anything, these are my battle scars and I'm proud of them. It was those that got the authorities to take me seriously after I escaped and contacted the police. It was the evidence I needed of a brutality that was otherwise only my word against theirs. Those wounds couldn't be denied and couldn't be excused. They brought the cult down as much as my written expose. They gave me credibility."

  Micah walked around so he could see her eyes, get a better read on her. But she stood before him, confident and unashamed and looking him straight in the eye.

  "I don't see them, so they don't bother me. That may seem overly simplistic, but it's the truth. I got them as a punishment for grieving a mother who had brought shame to the cult by committing suicide. The pain of my grief far outweighed any physical hurt they inflicted on me."

  Micah stepped forward, holding her close, maintaining their physical connection and silently offering his strength.

  "I was numb with anguish at my mother's death. I was suddenly alone and terrified of the arranged marriage I was being threatened with. My sole concern became to make my escape before I was tied to the cult in unimaginably awful ways, before I found myself pregnant or with a baby I had to try to protect as well as myself. A child whom some other egotistical bastard would have some claim over. One that I might never be able to override. I couldn't allow any of that to happen, and that's where my incentive was. The beating was just a minor ordeal I had to tolerate in the face of far greater predicaments."

  She gave him a genuine smile. "And like I said, it became my proof and their ruin, and for that, I was nothing but grateful."

  Micah feathered his lips across hers. "My brave sweetheart," he breathed against her mouth.

  Charlotte shook her head. "I'm not brave," she disagreed. "If it had happened another way, I'm sure it probably would have traumatised me forever. It was simply the sequence of events that made it insignificant; I had different things to focus on that were simply more important at the time. I have plenty of other baggage from that time, as you well know."

  "I think you underestimate just how strong and incredible you are," Micah murmured sincerely before he took her lips and kissed her deeply.

  In those fleeting minutes, she felt safe, secure and treasured. She couldn't remember the last time another person had made her feel that way. Maybe not since before her father had died over half her lifetime ago. It made her long to feel that way again. To find someone who cared for her and put her first on a more permanent basis. She'd never managed to find that in any vanilla relationship, but Charlotte hoped she would come to find it here.

  Micah lifted his lips, caught her face in his hands and touched his forehead to her own. "Ready?" he asked.

  Charlotte smiled. "Absolutely."

  She felt a brief loss as he let her go and walked behind her once again. Then tears suddenly prickled at the back of her eyes as she felt Micah drop to his knees and press gentle kisses to the faint, silvery lines on her back.

  She closed her eyes once more and simply absorbed the sensations. The quiet crowd had long since been forgotten, not even an afterthought in the space she inhabited.

  Behind her, Micah rose and whispered, "Remember your safewords, baby, just in case there are any hidden triggers."

  "Yes, Sir," Charlotte agreed, though she was certain there wouldn't be. If anything, this would be cathartic. Another way in which she took a piece of her past that had been out of her control and moulded it into a part of her future with a different association.

  The first few swishes were so light, they were no more than butterflies landing on her skin. Gentle kisses so unbelievably soft it was hard to imagine they were made by a whip. Across her shoulders and down her back, judiciously avoiding her kidneys and tailbone, slightly harder across her covered buttocks, then licking delicately across her thighs before moving around to her front and up.

  Lightly, almost tickling, across her abdomen, then carefully brushing her breasts. Charlotte felt so relaxed she was almost drowsy until Micah flicked at her nipples. One, then the other. Charlotte drew a breath and felt them beading. He flicked at them again and she felt her insides clench as awareness rushed right to her core.

  Then he was gone, behind her once more, and she mourned the loss until she was distracted by the draw of the lash at her shoulders once again. Harder, this time, with just a whisper of pain that was gone so soon, she might have imagined it.

  She felt her skin warm as he travelled the same route as before. Her skin felt sensitised and she found herself aching for more. As if he could read her mind, Micah increased the intensity. Still not that hard, or so it seemed. She was aware of the noise, the crack he'd assured would not be too loud. It echoed through her head in a steady rhythmic swoosh which she found somehow soothing.

  Charlotte felt like she was floating deep inside herself. The lashes heated her skin but the pain that bloomed immediately morphed into a sublime pleasure. When they grazed across her breasts, the ache in her abdomen intensified, twisting up her insides and leaving her desperate when he moved away again.

  Her breathing quickened, even as the floating feeling intensified. It was like some kind of out-of-body experience, and when Micah reached her front again, she was ready to implode. Charlotte unconsciously thrust her breasts out, silently begging for…something. She didn't know what. Her mind was mired in pleasure and any sentience had long since been caught up in the syrupy, slightly detached haze that seemed to have everything ensuing in slow motion.

  Except for the frantic coiling in her tummy and the pounding ache at her core.

  Suddenly, she felt the sharp lick of the tail on her clit, and even through the fabric, it was like someone had flipped a switch and Charlotte detonated.

  The orgasm surged through her like a tsunami, building up and then shattering while the residual waves broke over her again and again in rippling aftershocks until it finally released her from the surge and ebbed away. As if from a distance, someone screamed in pleasure. She heard Micah's name echoing vaguely through her consciousness but never realised that the sound issued from her own lips.

  Charlotte was barely aware of Micah unclipping the cuffs from the chain, was completely oblivious to the gentle hands of Connor Griffin as he helped keep her upright while Micah released her, or even to the roar of appreciation which rippled through the huge crowd of onlookers who liked nothing more than a good show.

  Yes. Little Cha-Cha had indeed caused quite a stir
tonight.

  Sitting in Club Risqué's exclusive VIP lounge, ten days later, while she waited for Micah to dispense with some pressing matter involving a reporter from some local news rag, Charlotte was feeling a whole lot more comfortable with just about everything.

  She'd been taking things slowly, both in the club and with Micah, and although the necessity for her to consider scening with any other Doms at the club had not emerged, since she was still within the last days of her training period, she knew that by next week that would change. Micah still made a point to introduce her to a few of the Doms whom he felt would be a suitable match, but so far, none of them had jumped out at Charlotte and made her heart beat faster or her pulse race.

  Maybe that wasn't a requirement in these scenarios. She needed to remember that she was not courting here. Not even close. But it was difficult to separate what she would look for in a potential date and a potential Dom. Surely, some things should be the same. Like whether or not she at least felt a small pull of attraction. Especially if she was going to potentially have hot, sweaty, hopefully amazing sex with the guy.