by K. C. Wells
I slid the card across the bar and told him that the doorman suggested I talk with the manager. He picked up the card, then looked at me, causing me to squirm. “The manager isn’t here tonight. I’m watching the place. Feel free to mingle. If you’re looking for a submissive, you’ll find them in that area over there, though you won’t be allowed to take them into a private room.”
He pointed to a roped off corner of the bar where young men mingled and chatted.
“May I join them?” I asked.
“What?”
“I’m not a Dom.”
He looked at me with such pity in his eyes. “Go home,” he said. “This isn’t the place for someone like you.”
The thought of going home again was like a fist of ice crushing my heart. “Please,” I begged, “let me stay.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face, then nodded in the direction of the pen. “Don’t blame me if they don’t welcome you.”
I put the old card back in my wallet and walked over to take my place with the other subs. I entered the area, ignoring the whispers and pointing, and sank to my knees. No matter what else, this evening would show that I was a true submissive.
I could only hope I would be welcomed.
Chapter Two
Eli
OUR FOOTFALLS on the winding path beat a steady rhythm that drove us on. It was a lighter run than we’d done in the past, but that was before Ben got hit by a drunk driver outside Collars & Cuffs on his birthday. His boy, Scott, witnessed the accident and my friend—stubborn ass that he is—sent Scott away, thinking he was doing right by him. Still, I understood it. A sub was the most precious of gifts. When someone gave themselves to you, submitted to you, there was almost nothing you wouldn’t do to ensure they were well taken care of. Ben thought he was doing the right thing; it just took him a while to realize he was wrong. Now that they’d settled back into their relationship, Ben was happier than I’d ever known him to be.
Just then the wind picked up, and I shivered. February was definitely getting colder. At least the January snows had finally thawed.
“You’re being awfully quiet over there. Too much running leaving you without enough breath to talk?”
I glanced over at Ben and quirked a brow. The cheeky git just chuckled.
“I’m thinking about how lucky you are to have a second chance with Scott. You don’t deserve it, you know.”
Ben’s pace faltered, and he quieted for a few moments. “I know. I’m not sure I was ready for the responsibility when Scott came to be with me. Once I realized that I wanted him, I went in with my heart on my sleeve. No one has ever affected me the way he does.”
“Then why send him away?” I challenged, noting the wince when I asked the question.
“I had nothing to give him. His parents would have given him everything I couldn’t.”
Ben’s answer was wistful, and I waited patiently for the rest.
“I was wrong. I knew it almost immediately after he left, but to be honest, I was ashamed. I was in casts after the accident. I couldn’t take care of myself, and his father pointed that out to me very clearly. I didn’t want Scott to see me as less than a full partner. I’m supposed to be his Master, after all.”
Now it was my turn to be quiet. I wanted what Ben had. I wanted it with every fiber of my being. I wanted someone who would depend on me to take care of them. Someone who needed me in a way no one else ever could. I was bloody tired of the clubs and all the little subs who wanted to play with a big, bad Dom, but then return to their quiet little suburban homes until the next time they had an itch that needed to be scratched.
“I can hear the cogs turning from here,” Ben murmured.
“That’s what I want,” I admitted. “I want what you have. Hell, at times I might even consider what your friend Damian has, though I’m not sure I’m suited for that kind of lifestyle.”
We’d met Damian and Jeff on one of our runs. It was easy to see that Damian doted on Jeff, and that Jeff was taken with the Dom… former Dom? The thought of that made my head pound. Still, Jeff was obviously happy and after what Ben had told me about his life, I can see where he needed the structure Damian was trying to give him. Domestic discipline wasn’t for me, though. I wanted a boy of my own. Someone who would put their trust in me. Someone who would be willing to play with me.
Ben laughed, although considering we were on our second mile, it came out as more of a wheeze. “You’re not going to find it if you don’t get out and look for it. Come to the club. I’ll introduce you to Leo and Thomas. Hell, I’ll even buy the first drink.”
“Ooh, how generous of you. I assume you’ll at least use the high-end tonic and lime.”
Ben knew I didn’t drink much. Not since I started playing with the boys at the clubs. It was important for me to maintain control at all times, and I didn’t like the aftereffects of the alcohol. It really wasn’t my best friend.
That didn’t stop me from slipping now and again, however.
“It’ll do you good to get out. Hey, you could stop by and see Andrew do a Shibari demonstration. It’s magnificent.”
“I’ll think about it, all right?”
“You always say that. You never do, though. I get the feeling you’re afraid of Collars & Cuffs.”
I sighed. “I said I’d think about it. That’s the only thing I can promise.” I glanced at my watch. “We should be heading back soon. I’m off to the club tonight.”
Ben’s face showed his obvious distaste. “You’re still going to Spitfire? That place is a cesspool.”
He wasn’t wrong. Still, it was much closer to home than Collars & Cuffs was, and even though it had seen better days, it had some good points. “I promise at some point, I’ll make it to C&C, okay?”
“That’s all I ask. You have to know I wouldn’t tell you to come by if it wasn’t the best place.”
I gave a noncommittal hum, and we dropped the subject as we turned to head back. Ben had given me something to think about. I wouldn’t find what I was looking for sitting at home, and my job as a lorry driver didn’t allow me much time to do anything else.
I snuck a peek at my friend. Although it was taking him time to build up muscle and stamina, he had a healthy glow about him. I’d noticed how he’d grown as a person since he took charge of Scott, even if the cheeky brat pushed Ben every chance he got. Still, it seemed everyone Ben told me about at Collars & Cuffs was finding someone. The club owner, Leo, had found Alex: in fact, they’d gotten married just after Christmas. Thomas, Leo’s partner, had Peter, Ben had Scott. Hell, Ben was going to marry Scott, when they finally got around to setting a date. And there were others that Ben told me about each time we got together.
I had thought about visiting the club where Ben was bar manager, but something kept telling me it couldn’t be as good as Ben made it out to be. I mean, all clubs were the same, weren’t they? True, Spitfire used to be a more traditional BDSM club, with leather and all the trappings. Now it was… something else. The current owners were trying to fuse together bits and pieces from different styles, and mucking it up in the process.
I’d trained as a Dom there, back when it was Lancers. At least I’d started training. The club went tits up after the first few months, and Spitfire didn’t offer training of any sort. Another strike against it, as far as I was concerned. What was the likelihood of finding a place where there was a trainer and a more traditional style of clientele?
“Are you even listening to me?” Ben complained.
“Trying not to,” I shot back.
“I asked if we were going to go for a full five miles today.”
“No, probably not. You’re not ready for it. You’re puffing like a steam engine already, and I think it’s time we headed back. I need to get a shower before work, and then tonight I need to see what the club has to offer.”
“What’s going on tonight?”
“Spitfire is having a sub night. According to the invite, there are supposed to be a few
dozen subs there, and I want to see what kind of crop they bring in. Because last time? Just awful. Primped and preening boys, makeup, even glitter, for fuck’s sake. I want a man, not a twink, and I want someone who is interested in more than a one-off in the back of the club. What I wouldn’t give for what you have, someone to take care of you like Scott does.”
“Hey, we take care of each other! But do you honestly think you’ll find it at Spitfire? You’ve been a member there for, what? Six months?”
“Eight,” I admitted through gritted teeth.
“And how far along has that gotten you?”
I knew we were back on the subject of Collars & Cuffs again, and although my friend wouldn’t steer me wrong, I was resisting for very practical reasons. It would take me nearly an hour to get there, and another to get home. It was just inconvenient.
“If I promise you I’ll come in one night, will you stop harping on at me?”
“All I ask is that you give it a chance. We have Doms and subs from all over and a very strict membership policy, so you know we only have the best.”
“And what about a trainer?” I hinted.
Ben sighed. “Thomas was the one in charge of training at the club, but when he took Peter in hand, he gave it up. They’ve been looking for someone who would fill the role, but so far no one has been a good fit. I think Leo’s been spoiled with Thomas.”
“I promise I’ll show up sometime,” I swore.
Ben wasn’t finished. “I’ve already talked with Leo and Thomas about you. My recommendation carries a lot of weight, and I don’t think there is anything in your background that would cause problems.”
Ben was a nurturer. Once he’d gotten his head out of his arse, he’d helped Scott grow as a sub and as a person. His young man was now an accomplished writer of children’s books, and traveled around to schools and libraries to give readings of his most popular story, “Puppy Pile.” What would it be like to help someone reach their potential like that?
“Do you ever regret meeting Scott?”
“What? Absolutely not. I regret the way I almost cocked it up, that’s for sure, but I’ve never for a single moment regretted having my boy in my life. He’s… funny, charming, infuriating, loving, cheeky, obstinate, and he completes me.”
“Who’s the Dom here?” I joked.
“Sod off. When you meet the right person, there is no way you’ll ever want to let him go.” He hesitated for a moment. “Do you know what he asked me the other day? If I’d ever thought about having kids.”
That brought me up short. “And what did you say?”
“Not a lot at first. I asked him why, and he said he wanted to be a better father than the bastard who raised him. He wanted to give a kid love and acceptance. He had a whole argument laid out about why he wanted this, and as I listened, I found myself thinking about it too. I even called Annie to talk about it. She said that she would be honored to be our surrogate if we decided to go ahead. Paco is all for it too.”
Ben with kids. Never saw that coming.
“Listen, we should get together, you, me, and Scott. We can hit the bars or go dancing.”
My chest tightened. No way did I want to be a third wheel hanging out with those two. Scott gazed at Ben like he hung the moon and stars, and when they were together, Ben only had eyes for his boy.
Yeah, they would make amazing parents.
“Maybe,” I said. “We can discuss it next week.”
The parking lot was in sight, and we slowed to a brisk walk to cool down. We didn’t say much more until Ben got to his seen-better-days Focus and I got to my truck. Each of us grabbed a towel and patted the sweat from our bodies.
“Same time next week?” I asked.
“Absolutely, but I think we’re ready to up the distance a little. Say, three miles?”
There was a time before his accident when we’d managed ten, but three was definitely an improvement on the one or two we slogged through these days. Though I wasn’t complaining. Ben was getting stronger, but it was up to me to make sure he didn’t push himself too far.
“Sounds good to me.”
We said our good-byes, and he headed off. My house was about forty minutes from the park, so it took a while to get there. I walked in and noted the time. I had about an hour before I had to be at work, so I started a pot of coffee, grabbed some toast, and then jumped in the shower.
As I soaped my body, the conversation with Ben kept playing over and over in my head, and my stomach churned with what I could only describe as jealousy. I didn’t begrudge him having Scott, because the young man had opened up avenues for Ben that he’d never considered. But it occurred to me I was stagnating. I had no one. I’d never had a sub for more than a few hours at the club. It was fine for what it was, but the thought of doing it again left me hollow deep down.
My shift crawled by. I had a delivery to make to Birmingham, only to find out that the person who ordered it never told anyone I was coming. I had to wait for someone in charge to come down and let me back up to the cargo dock to unload the crates. What should have been a three-hour job turned into an all-day affair. When I finally got home, I took another quick shower, and pulled out my harness and some black leather pants with snaps up the side for getting out of them quickly.
By the time I was ready to go, it was already nearing ten o’clock, and I had another full day ahead of me tomorrow. I had second thoughts about what I was doing. If I went to the club, I would have only a few hours before I’d need to come home. I figured it would be enough time for a quickie in the public room, but not enough time to maybe get to know someone.
Still, I couldn’t ignore the urge to get out of the house. I liked my place well enough. It was small by most standards, but it was plenty for me. Some nights, though, I just needed to get out and clear my head. Tonight was one of those.
I got back into my truck and drove to Spitfire, which was only about fifteen minutes away. I winced as I approached. I could hear the thumping bass even though I was still a couple of streets away. I signed inwardly. This club had really gone downhill, and maybe it was time for me to find something new. Or maybe it was time to give up my dream of finding that special person and prepare to buy hand lotion by the barrel and find a good site for streaming porn.
The doorman gave me a nod as I walked up and showed my card. There was a line of people outside the door, and every one of them was indistinguishable from the next. Twinks with gelled hair, done up in skinny jeans and T-shirts that would probably cost me a week’s salary. A couple of them tried to get my attention as I was led to the door, but I ignored them. I wasn’t in the mood for teenagers thinking they were going to run with the grown-ups.
The crowd was packed into the place, and everywhere I looked I saw almost no leather. A bunch of posers who preened and showed off their muscles to anyone who paid them any mind. This was my idea of hell. A place that took all the popular thoughts on BDSM and brought them to life. A few years ago, this place would have been ripe with the smell of leather, the sounds of skin on skin contact, and the cries of subs who were tasting the flogger or whip of a Dom. Now it was a place to be seen and thought of itself as edgy.
I sat at the bar and ordered a tonic and lime. The bartender slid it in front of me and gave me a smile. “Lots of people tonight, huh? Bet you’ll find someone here if, y’know, that’s what you’re after.”
I glanced at him. He wasn’t necessarily a twink, but he wasn’t my idea of a guy I’d spend time with. I liked men who looked and acted like men. Someone who, when he submitted to me, would be doing so because he acknowledged my dominance over him, and when we were done would appreciate the scene. The last time I had been with someone who claimed to be a sub, he didn’t even know what a safe word was, and that meant no play at all.
I sipped my drink and thought about wandering around the room, but there were so many people, it would be almost impossible to get from one side to the other. Instead I decided to stay at the bar, finish my d
rink, and go home.
One drink became two, then three. Before I knew it, I’d been sitting there for nearly two hours, getting thoroughly pissed off. Then I happened to look in the direction where the subs gathered, and I saw him.
He was an older man, maybe late forties, and he was kneeling, with his eyes down. His hair was dark brown, peppered with gray. A little soft around the middle, but it was obvious he took care of himself: his biceps were well-defined, his chest held a bit of tone. A few times someone would approach, and I would see his breathing quicken, but ultimately they’d walk away with one of the toy boys, and he’d be left visibly disappointed. I gestured to the bartender and nodded toward the man.
“What’s up with him?”
The bartender laughed, the sound lacking mirth.
“I thought he was a Dom when he strolled in, what with the way he dressed an’ all. He’s been kneeling there for almost an hour now.”
There was no way that man was a Dom. His bearing, the way he wouldn’t look up to meet anyone’s eyes, and the stance he took screamed submissive. I was intrigued. Hell, I was beyond excited. I tossed a bill onto the bar, grabbed my glass, and strode over to where the sub knelt. His posture was as good as any I’d ever seen.
I had to know more about him. I took two steps in his direction when I got waylaid by a perky little thing with fluffy pink hair and dark eyeliner. He looked like a troll doll.
“Good evening, Sir. Would you like to visit one of the private rooms?”
I rolled my eyes. “Good subs don’t petition to be taken to the rooms. They wait until they’re asked,” I reminded the willowy young man in front of me.
“I’m not a good sub, Sir,” he said, fluttering his eyelashes at me. “I need to be punished.”
He rubbed up against me. It was awkward as hell, but I pulled back. “Not tonight. Find someone else to play with. I’m going home soon.”
He practically purred when he put his hands on my chest and gazed into my eyes. “I could come with you.”