by Daisy March
She opened her eyes. The man who’d helped her was standing there, watching her, saying nothing. “Welcome back,” he said. “You look cute when you’re asleep.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” she snapped.
“Course you weren’t.” He put a steaming mug in her hands. “Drink this.”
She looked down at it and then up at him, the sweet smell making her stomach growl. “What is it?”
“Hot chocolate. You look like you need it.”
She took a sip, coughing loudly a second later.
“Put a little extra sugar in it,” he added as she continued coughing. “Might wake you up.”
He sat back down behind the desk, leaning across to pick up the stuffed bear. “What’s his name?” he asked, looking at it closely.
“Her,” Beth said, expecting to be laughed at. “She’s called Eleanor.”
“Well, howdy, Eleanor,” the man said. “Name’s Slater Greene. And who might your friend be?” He held the bear’s mouth up to his ear. “Didn’t quite catch that.”
Beth couldn’t help but smile. “I’m Beth, Beth Grodin.”
Slater reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a metal box which he opened as she took another sip of her drink. “What’s that for?” she asked, looking anxiously toward the box.
“Your friend needs a little minor surgery,” he said. “And as an ex-army medic, I reckon I might be able to help out. If you trust me, of course.”
Beth said nothing.
Slater nodded. “Good.” He picked out a sewing needle and black thread. He held the thread against the bear’s side. “Nope,” he muttered, reaching in the box again, pulling out three different shades of brown thread.
He chose the one he wanted, putting the others away before threading the needle on the first attempt.
He set the bottom half of Eleanor on the desk, positioning the top half before shaking his head.
“Needs a bit of filling up,” he said, reaching behind him to a battered sofa, lifting a cushion off, ripping it open a second later. “Not the only one that needs filling,” he added, looking at Beth again. “When was the last time you had a decent meal?”
She shrugged.
“I’ll cook you something up in a minute,” he continued. “First, we better get the surgery completed before the patient crashes.” He pulled stuffing out of the cushion, cramming it into Eleanor before starting to sew her back together.
Beth watched in silence, her head swimming. The office became blurred and she had to blink several times to bring it back into focus.
“There,” Slater said a few minutes later, “I reckon she’ll live.” He slid the bear back across the desk. “What do you think?”
Beth picked up Eleanor, hugging the bear to her chest. “Thank you,” she muttered.
“You’re welcome, Beth. Want to share with me why those two cops were after you?”
She shook her head vigorously.
“You sure? I might be able to help.”
She looked up at him and saw something in his eyes she’d never seen anywhere before. She couldn’t say what it was but it did something to her, warming her more than the hot chocolate possibly could.
Later, she would know better what that look was. It was compassion. But at the time, she only knew it was something that made her open up out of nowhere.
“They killed my father,” she said suddenly. “And they wanted to kill me.”
“I’m sorry about your father,” Slater replied. “You got proof those two did it? Any witnesses?”
She shook her head. “And they stabbed Billy.”
“Who’s Billy? That your father’s name?”
“Billy was my friend. Gave me Eleanor. They stabbed him.”
“Any idea why?”
She reached into her pocket, pulling out the memory card. “Billy gave me this, told me not to let them get it.”
Slater frowned. “What’s on it?”
“I don’t know. They tore Eleanor apart looking for it.”
“And they think you have it now. Can I see?”
He held his hand out toward her. Somehow she knew she could trust him.
She passed it to him, their fingers briefly touching. She shuddered as she touched him. His hands felt rough and warm.
He took the memory card and slotted it into the side of his computer. He clicked a button, shaking his head as he did so. “Encrypted.” He took it out again, setting it down on the desk. “I’ll get Mouser to look at it. He’s our I.T guy. I’m seeing him later on.”
He put the memory card in his drawer, locking it before sighing. “Come on. Let’s go get you something to eat. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
He stood up, opening the office door. “You coming?”
She shook her head. “What if they’re out there?”
“You any idea where you’re hiding out?”
“No. Why?”
“This is the Devil’s Warriors’ bar. Police don’t come in here and we don’t mess with them. Pretty good arrangement. Whoever was chasing you didn’t get the memo. I got word to my man in the precinct. They ain’t going to be back here anytime soon.”
Still she didn’t move. She couldn’t. She was too afraid. She saw the bodies in the hall again, Billy laid there in the pool of blood, her father slumped against the wall. She couldn’t stand up.
She felt something. Something warm. She looked down. Slater had taken her hand in his, was helping her to her feet. He kept his hand in hers, guiding her out of the office.
“I will protect you from now on,” he said. “You have my word.”
She followed him out, staying close, using his body to shield her. The bar was half full. Men in leather jackets were talking loudly to each other, the air filled with cigar smoke and the smell of liquor.
A few of the men looked her way but most were too busy talking to notice Slater leading her through to the back door.
He kicked it open and then they were outside. “Keep that blanket,” he said, walking over to a motorcycle that stood among several others. “It won’t take us long,” he said, turning to face her. “Jeez, you’re freezing.” He took off his leather jacket, wrapping it around her, zipping it up, the blanket inside like an extra layer.
A second later he was lifting her onto the motorcycle, his arms under her armpits. He acted like she weighed nothing at all.“Hold tight,” he said as he climbed on in front of her. “Off we go.”
She put her arms around his waist, pressing herself against him.
With a roar of the engine, they set off. The wind whipped her breath from her as they weaved through the traffic, heading away from the bar.
“Where are we going?” she yelled over the noise of the engine.
“My place,” he replied, taking a left, whipping between a truck and a cab, picking up speed. “Won’t take long.
Beth held on tighter to him. She’d never been on a motorcycle before. She’d never held anyone like this before. She didn’t know which she was enjoying more.
All she did know was that, even as the motorcycle roared through the traffic, she felt perfectly safe for maybe the first time in her entire life.
4
Slater
Slater’s house was on the outskirts of town. It was part of the club compound, set back from the other buildings, rear windows looking out at the steep slope of the wooded hills behind.
He brought the motorcycle to a stop by his front door, killing the engine before climbing off, helping Beth to do the same.
The noise from the garage across the compound was the only sound. Tinker was revving an engine and then cursing loudly. “Son of a bitch.” Another rev and then a splutter. “Get your ass in gear or I’ll throw you in the river you useless piece of shit.”
Slater was used to the sound but Beth seemed afraid to hear the raised voice of a man nearby.
Slater was again struck by the need to become her Daddy. Some of the terror left her eyes when he smiled at her but i
t was replaced by emptiness.
She looked lost.
“This way,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulder as she stared around her, looking for the source of the noise.
“It’s so different here,” she said, stumbling after him. “So many trees.”
“You don’t get out of town much, I’m guessing.”
“Never.”
“Hope it’s not too quiet for you.” He unlocked the front door, shoving it open. “Forgive the mess. I’m not used to having company.”
He took her straight through to the kitchen, pulling open the cupboard by the oven. “Here we go,” he said, pulling two boxes out. “Chili or mac and cheese? Actually, scratch that question. You look like you need both.”
He stabbed one of the boxes, shoved it into the microwave, and then left it doing its thing while he poured a glass of milk out for his guest.
He set the glass down on the countertop, motioning for Beth to sit. She did so at once and he felt another spark inside him. She was naturally obedient.
What if she was his Little?
Stop it, he told himself. She’s no Little. She’s just traumatized by what happened to her.
There was more too. A deep sadness behind her eyes. The last thing she needed was him trying to push a plug up her ass to satisfy his own urges.
He needed to control himself.
It was all too easy to picture looking after her full time. Playing with her. Fucking her.
She needed support. That was all.
He got the feeling there was a sharp mind behind all that anxiety.
She sipped her drink while he got the food ready. He passed her a plate a few minutes later. She looked down at it, as if she didn’t know what to do. The mac and cheese steamed into her face. She wrinkled her nose, looking cuter than ever.
“Here,” he said, picking up her fork. “Let me help.”
He pushed the fork toward her mouth which opened automatically. Sliding the food in past her lips, he couldn’t help noticing how soft they looked, wondering what they might be like to kiss.
“Good girl,” he said as she chewed slowly. “Reckon you can manage the rest?”
She nodded, saying nothing.
He passed her the fork. “I’ll be back. Need to a make a call.”
He headed outside, standing with his back to the house, pulling out his cellphone. Tinker had stopped cursing and was singing out of tune to himself, hammering something that probably didn’t deserve it.
Slater punched in a number and waited.
“Slater,” the voice on the other end said. “I told you, there’s nothing else I can do. I can’t get you in either.”
“This isn’t about the club,” Slater said. “Dooley told me I need a Little and I’ve got one. I need you to make sure those clothes that fit someone five four and skinny as a rake. Dress. Underwear. The whole lot.”
“You found one?”
“Maybe. Can you sort the clothes out?”
“Got it. Shoes?”
“Bring a couple of sizes.”
“Anything else?”
“Got something else for you to look at when you rock up.”
“Color me intrigued, Prez. What we looking at?”
“I’ll see you tonight at nine. All right?”
“I’ll bring the stuff. You better not be yanking my chain about getting a girl or I’m about to make a huge ass of myself buying all that stuff.”
Slater hung up, heading back inside. Beth was where he’d left her. She’d cleared both plates of food and the color was finally coming back to her cheeks. “Warming up?” he asked.
She nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“You stay here for now,” he said, taking a step toward her. “I can keep you safe here until we deal with those guys who were after you. You stay here but I need you to do something for me tonight.”
She immediately stiffened, her back straightening, her hands grabbing Eleanor, holding the bear tight. “Please, don’t hurt me,” she whispered. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
“Whoah, there,” he said, stepping back. “I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you, Beth.”
Her lips pursed, her eyes narrowing. “Why would you want to help me?” She sounded suspicious.
“Same reason I fixed up your bear. You look broken and I like fixing broken things.”
She looked down at her stuffed bear, her grip on it loosening just a little.
“You heard of Cake?” he asked. “The drug?”
She nodded. “My father had a couple of boxes in the apartment. The detectives took it with them. What is it?”
“A narcotic. A nasty piece of work too. I found out where it’s being made and I need to get in there to deal with the makers. To do that, I have to take a woman with me. You’ll come with me tonight.”
She said nothing, just stared at him in silence.
“It’s a private club,” he continued when he realized she wasn’t going to respond. “You help me get inside and I can get rid of Cake, save an awful lot of lives.”
Still nothing.
“You do this and in return I’ll keep you safe.”
“You can’t,” she said, speaking up at last. “No one can keep me safe.”
“Honey, I’m the president of the Devil’s Warriors.”
“They’ll kill you like they killed Billy.”
“They can try but they’ll be outnumbered. Anyone comes after you, they got my whole club to deal with.” He poured himself a bourbon and drained half the glass in one gulp. “I promise I’ll protect you, Beth. No one will hurt you while I’m around but I need to get in that club and I can’t do it without your help.”
“What would I have to do in this club?”
“That’s where it gets a bit complicated. You ever heard of a Little?”
“A little what?”
“A Little. A woman who dresses up like a little girl.”
She frowned, her brow wrinkling, making her look more adorable than ever. “There’s a name for that?”
“Sure there is, why?”
“Nothing,” she snapped suddenly. “No reason.”
“The thing is this place I need to get in is for Littles and their Daddies. Daddies is the name for the men who go with the Littles. I’d need you to act like you’re my Little so we can get inside. I’d have to act like your Daddy too. Just until we’re in, that’s all. You dress like a Little, help me get inside and I’ll get rid of Cake for good, deal with those guys who are after you as well. What do you think?”
“You have to promise to look after Leanne.” She got to her feet as she spoke, holding a hand out toward him. “Promise me you’ll take care of Leanne.”
“Who’s Leanne?”
“She was my neighbor at the apartment. She’s seventy-nine. What if they hurt her?”
“I’ll have someone check in on her right now. What’s the address?”
Slater made the call a minute later. Rex answered, not asking any questions. When he hung up, Slater tried a smile again. “Done,” he said. “She’ll be taken care of. Now, will you let me take care of you, Beth?”
“What do I need to do?” she asked.
“It’s not too complicated. We’ll be pretending to have a DDLG relationship. That stands for Daddy Dom Little Girl.” He pointed at himself. “Daddy,” and then at her. “Little.
“Daddies help Littles to keep clean, to eat well, to take care of themselves. A Little obeys Daddy’s rules and gets to have fun without needing to worry about anything else.
“When we’re in the club, you’ll need to act like a Little. I’ll need you to obey me so they don’t think there’s anything suspicious about us. Just until I finish searching the place.”
“And then?”
“Then we come home and you can stay here for as long as you like. Always work in the compound if you’re looking.”
“Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll do it.”
“Good. Right, the first thing is to get y
ou clean and then into some suitable clothes. I have a couple of things upstairs you can use for now. Mouser’s bringing the rest tonight when he meets us at the bar. Follow me.”
He walked upstairs, keeping her hand in his. He took several deep breaths on the way up. He was already falling for her.
That was bad news.
It wasn’t real anyway, it was just his imagination running away with him that she might want to be his Little. She was doing this because it was a business deal, that was all. He needed to remember that.
“You’ll have to obey me,” he said, pushing open the bathroom door. “You’ll see things at the club when we’re there. Some things might seem weird.”
“Like what?”
“Like some Littles getting punished for misbehaving.”
“Punished how?” she asked, sounding scared again.
“Spankings for the most part. Paddlings. Sometimes they get plugged. Made to stand naked in public. Whatever their Daddies tell them to do.”
Beth’s cheeks had turned bright red. She was staring anywhere but at him as he realized he was taking things too fast. “They hurt them?” she asked, staring at the floor.
“Don’t worry,” he said quickly. “It’s all consensual even if the Littles protest. It’s all arranged in advance and everyone has a safe word.”
“Safe word?”
“A word you can say anytime. Say it and whatever is going on stops immediately without any negative repercussions for the Little.” He realized he was talking too technically. “Some Littles like to shout stop when they don’t mean it so the safe word is something that can’t possibly be misunderstood. Your safe word will be Eleanor. Okay?”
“Eleanor.”
“You say that and whatever is happening between us stops. All right?”
“All right.”
He walked over to the tub and began running the faucets. “Wait there,” he said, walking out to his bedroom, finding the box that contained the sample clothes Mouser had been able to track down.
He tore open the box. The short dress inside was silky to the touch, pure white, strappy. He had no idea whether it would fit her but it sure was better than filth encrusted jeans and ruined tee-shirt. Also in the box were knee high white socks and panties that were almost see through.