by Jamie Knight
My efforts to be kind fell on deaf ears. Her red lips pulled together, twisted, and then pulled down. She glared at me and put her hands on her hips.
“Your loss,” she spat and turned away.
Maybe she was right. I wasn’t sure, but I just couldn’t say yes to her or any woman lately. As I watched the blonde walk away, I thought to myself that her legs just weren’t long enough.
I finished my drink and headed, sadly towards the door. At the entrance, the manager, Jensen stopped me.
Jensen was a decent guy. He had been the manager of the Dark Club for about twenty years, taking over when Uncle Ronnie decided to quit the job himself. I wasn’t sure if Jensen saw much action though; he wasn’t the usual type of man to join the club. He was a bit on the shorter side and was balding with a keg-shaped belly.
“Sorry Mr. Silver. But the boss wants to see you.” He pointed a portly finger towards the ceiling and the office on the second floor.
Odd. Uncle Ronnie rarely came to the club anymore. He was getting on in years and I think that it reminded him of his failing body. Modern medicine could only do so much for the old man.
I thanked Jensen and headed towards the stairs behind the bar. On the second floor of the club was a bunch of private rooms that could be rented. There was also an office with glass windows that looked over the dance floor.
Uncle Ronnie was sitting at his fancy, glass desk staring down at the crowds when I entered his office. As usual, a cigarette was clutched in his long fingers, half smoked and somewhat forgotten. Ronnie was about seventy-six. He was a tall man. I got my height from my father’s side and Ronnie was my father’s brother. But age had thinned Ronnie down, his cheeks were hallowed and his long fingers bone-like. In his old age, he looked like a moving scarecrow, not like the male model he used to be.
“Kid,” he rasped. That was how he always addressed me. It didn’t matter if I was thirteen of my current age of forty-five. To Uncle Ronnie, I was always “Kid.”
“Take a seat.” He pointed with the hang clutching the cigarette. “We’ve got trouble.”
I folded myself into the silver metal chair that sat across from his desk. It was some sort of fancy designer chair made for its architectural shape and not for comfort. Ronnie liked expensive things.
“What’s up?” I asked, crossing my ankle over my knee and straightening my coat. I had just bought a new set of gold cuff links—arrows—and they kept getting caught in the sleeves of my coat. I pulled down the cuff of my tailored shirt.
Ronnie turned to me and gave me a stare. His blue eyes were yellowing around the irises and his cheeks were more sallow. He had a few more liver spots than the last time I had seen him. The old man looked bad and I started to regret that I didn’t spend more time with him.
“I saw you turn down that blonde,” he said it like an accusation. “What’s wrong with you?”
I pulled back a bit in my chair, feeling a little uncomfortable with his line of questioning.
“Nothing, Ronnie. Just not in the mood that’s all.”
“Jenson tells me that you haven’t taken a girl home for weeks. You just come and stand at the bar, looking but never touching.” He coughed a little bit and took a sip from a glass that was sitting near his ashtray.
I shrugged. “What does it matter, Uncle? Why do you care? I’m not sick or anything. Just not in the mood.”
“You better get in the mood quick!”
He stamped out his cigarette with a hard thump and pushed the ashtray away from him. Both of his gnarled hands grabbed the desk. For a few moments, he pushed to stand, but his knees weren’t cooperating, so Ronnie gave up in a huff. The old man settled back into his seat with a sigh. He grabbed another cigarette from the pack on his desk, lit it and pulled a long drag off it.
I watched him the whole time saying nothing. One didn’t rush Ronnie.
He blew out a cloud of smoke and coughed a bit after. “Damn, Kid. Getting old is the pits. Stupid body won’t do anything I want. Now the doctors want me to quit the cigs.” He indicated the cigarette clutched between his fingers by giving that hand a flourish.
I snorted a laugh. “That’s nothing new, Uncle. The doctors have been on you for years to quit smoking.”
He nodded his head, turned to the side of his desk and opened a drawer.
“They tell me I have terminal lung cancer, Kid.”
All of the breath left my body in a huff.
“What?!”
Ronnie pulled out a decanter of whiskey and put it on the desk. The amber liquid swayed in the bottle, a tell tell sign of how much Ronnie was shaking. He also pulled out two glasses. The effort seemed to exhaust the old man, so he pointed at the bottle.
I stood and moved to his desk to pour us drinks. A finger of expensive whiskey went into each glass, and I pushed one towards my uncle. He picked it up, still shaking, but he didn’t take a sip. He rubbed the glass over his forehead.
“Two months, they tell me, Kid.” He voice was a little horse. “That’s it. That’s all she wrote.”
I plucked my glass from his desk and downed the contents. The whiskey burned my throat a bit in a comforting way. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to be having. I poured myself another two fingers before sitting down in the uncomfortable chair again.
Ronnie turned his chair and looked down at the dance floor of the Dark Club, his drink clutched in one hand and a forgotten cigarette in the other.
“I was the emperor of an empire once, Kid. I used to dominate this club and every woman who came in here. This, the magazines, the website, all that was my empire. Is my empire, I suppose.” He let out a loud sigh. “Silver, Inc. my prized corporation. Now it’s all going to be yours.”
“You are too generous Uncle Ronnie,” I told him quickly. “I am grateful!”
The truth was that I wasn’t surprised. Ronnie and I were the only one’s left in our family. I had always expected to get his holdings and have controlling interest in Silver, Inc. I had just never been sure if I was going to keep them. Did I want a sex empire? Probably not. I made pretty good money as a CFA and it was something I could talk about at parties. Most likely, I would just sell everything off.
The old man turned slightly and glared at me with one creamy eye.
“Don’t get cocky, Ray,” he snapped. “I know you’ve been expecting this for a while. I’ve seen you looking at my files and trying to get that number-centric brain of yours around my finances. You want to know how much it’s going to be. You’ve wanted to know for a long time.”
He turned and stamped out cigarette number two. Leaning forward, he got right into my face.
“You don’t think I did as well as you with your straight-laced job and millions in the bank account. But I tell you what, I never had to work for another man. I have been dominating in the bedroom and in business my whole life and it has paid. It has paid big time.”
I held the old man’s gaze, not sure what to say. I had always accepted what Uncle Ronnie did for a living as a fact of life, but it wasn’t a path I thought I would choose. Sure, I had similar tastes in the bedroom. My penthouse apartment had a bed room complete with whips and leather straps. But devoting my life to that? Well, it just seemed odd and maybe a little embarrassing.
“Eighteen billion.”
“What?”
He laughed and sat back in his chair. “My holdings, Silver, inc. that’s what it is worth. So, look in your little checking account and be happy of your, what? Ten million? Because I have you beat, Kid.”
Oh fuck!
Eighteen billion was a lot of money. I had no idea I would be inheriting so much. My mind was itching, I wanted to look for myself. I wanted to check his numbers to make sure the old man wasn’t crazy. How could a club and a few websites make that much?
“Sex sells,” Ronnie muttered as if he could read my thoughts.
I nodded. “You always said that, but I never believed you.”
He snorted. “I knew you didn’t.
So, here’s how it’s going to go.” He lit another cigarette and took a long drag.
“How what’s going to go?” I asked.
Ronnie smiled. “Since you never believed me, I’m going to need to see that you take this business seriously. I want to know that I’m leaving my empire in the best hands.”
I sat up in my chair. “Who else would you leave it too? I’m your family, Uncle Ronnie.”
“I know and I know you know the urges that only come to certain men. I’ve seen you take a pet or two, but now it’s time for a real show.”
Keeping me in his gaze, he took his first sip of whiskey and swallowed slowly. He was enjoying watching me squirm.
“If you want the money you will do as I say, or I will give it to Jensen or some random woman I meet in the club…maybe that blonde you turned down earlier.” He grinned.
I put my hands on the table and stood. I wasn’t enjoying that he was playing with me.
“Come off it, Uncle. Just tell me what you want me to do. I take this place seriously. Hell, I’m here every night to make sure things are going well. You can ask Jensen.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “What show do you want?”
“The Leather and Lace Ball.”
I had heard of the leather and lace ball; I had even attended a few times. It was the biggest even of the year for men and women like me. People who liked their sexual experiences to be a little darker. It was a playground for the deviants, complete with shows and exhibitions. I had never performed on stage before, but I had always wanted to. It seemed so…so dirty and sexy.
“The ball is this weekend. Five days away in Vegas. You need a pet by that time. I want you two to perform on the main stage. The community needs a reminder that the Dark Club is the king of the clubs. They need to see you as my heir and know that you are the king of the doms.”
I paced the room a little. I really didn’t have a problem with performing, but finding a pet this quickly, that seemed tough. I could go downstairs and grab a random girl, but then the chemistry wouldn’t be there. I needed someone who would keep me aroused in front of a room full of people.
Uncle Ronnie laughed at my frown. “Is the task too much for you, Kid? You don’t even have a pet right now do you? Just a lonely cock.”
I rubbed my chin. I didn’t want to give Ronnie the pleasure of knowing that I was having romantic troubles.
“I have a pet,” I found myself lying. “She’s like nothing you’ve ever seen, Uncle. And I promise you the show of your life at the Leather and Lace Ball. I’ll prove to you that I’m your true heir.”
Ronnie sat back in his chair and smiled at me. “Good, Kid. I’m sure you’ll make me proud.” He took a drag of his cigarette and blew the cloud of smoke at me.
“Get your girl ready for travel. I’ll have the tickets sent to you. We leave in four days for Vegas.”
I nodded and left the office, not sure what I was going to do.
Chapter Five
Ray
I straightened my cuffs, annoyed this morning that the little arrows kept getting stuck in the sleeves of my gray jacket and walked into the elevator. I usually checked to see who was inside before I got on, but I had been absorbed with straightening my cuffs. Buying these cufflinks had been a mistake. They were sophisticated looking but a pain in the ass. I would head out first thing after work and buy a new pair tonight.
It was a typical Tuesday morning at McKenzie Tech. I had a financial meeting two hours from now at ten. That gave me enough time to get up to my office, drink my coffee and think about what Uncle Ronnie said last night. I needed to find a pet and fast. I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by. Becoming a billionaire was too tempting.
More people filled into the elevator. It was packed this time in the mornings. I kept having to move towards the back. I dropped my eyes, set down my briefcase, and started pulling at my cuffs again.
I didn’t notice when she stepped onto the elevator, but I could smell her. Vanilla and lavender. Eileen was on the opposite side of the elevator from me. Her beautiful face and brown locks were visible above the shorter people stuffed between us. I saw her glance at me with her honey-colored eyes, but she didn’t turn her head fully.
She looked taller than usual. Eileen was one of the tallest women in the building; really, she was one of the tallest women I had ever met. She could have been a model, but, sadly, Eileen was embarrassed about her height. She usually stooped and wore flats—doing anything to seem average instead of the statuesque six-foot she was.
Today was different. Eileen seemed to be wearing heels—tall heels, maybe even platforms. I had never seen her in heels before and I itched to get a look. She had such long legs, to see them elongated by heels was just too tempting.
My mind dropped back into a memory. The feeling of her smooth skin under my hands. After two frustrating weeks, I had kissed her lips. I had felt her body pressed against mine. I had even run my lips up her long, lean legs, but when we finally made it to the bedroom, her bedroom she had whispered something that broke my heart.
“Turn off the lights,” she had told me. “I don’t want anyone to see my body.”
That beautiful girl had no confidence. I couldn’t believe it. That realization took the wind out of my sails.
Then the sex was very vanilla. She wouldn’t do any position other than missionary and had complained when I tugged a bit on her hair. The whole night was a disaster and I had to admit to myself that no matter how beautiful Eileen was, she wasn’t right for me.
She wasn’t pet material and I was old enough to know that I couldn’t be with anything less. My sexual preferences were part of me. Without the straps, cuffs, whips and occasional exhibitionist act, I wasn’t my true self. Kink was part of pleasure. It was just how I was built.
I sighed to myself and looked at the elevator floor. I tried to put Eileen out of my mind, but her scent was overwhelming. Hell, I couldn’t keep the girl out of my mind. I thought about her often, fantasized about her even. I couldn’t accept that she wasn’t the one for me. I knew that she wouldn’t accept my sexual tastes and I was not going to force her. I wasn’t that kind of man and that wasn’t the way it worked. Both partners had to consent.
We reached the seventh floor and a few people got off. I watched them go, particularly the women. There had to be someone I could relate to in the building. McKenzie Tech employed over five hundred people—there had to be more then one or two kinky girls in the mix.
There were a few pretty faces here and there. Some shapely figures, but no one seemed to light my fire. This was a real problem. I needed someone now, with the Lace and Leather ball just a few days away, I needed my kinky princess to show up and save me.
I chuckled to myself and reached up to run a hand through my black hair. My jacket sleeve caught and pulled. There was a tiny ripping sound.
Fuck.
My stupid cuff link had probably torn the lining of my favorite coat. I set my briefcase down again and pulled the jacket off. I turned the left sleeve inside out and looked over the damage. The silk was torn a good three inches.
Oh, Goddamit! I thought.
That was it. These cuff links had to go—immediately. I put my jacket between my knees and held it there. Sloane was standing close to me and gave me a deep frown than pulled down her long haughty face. She probably was judging me for taking off my coat—she was always judging people—but I ignored her.
I grabbed my left cuff in my teeth and tried to flip the clasp of the cufflink. The point of the arrow got caught in the hole and it wouldn’t come free. I pulled until the movement caused me to shift my weight, and with my jacket held between my knees, I lost my balance.
Stumbling to the left, I knocked into Colleen from HR, a notorious gossip and avid coffee enthusiast. Her extra-large double vanilla latte crumpled in her hand and spilled onto Valerie from the mailroom, ruining her white sweater.
“Oh no!” the dark-haired woman squeaked. She had a really high-pitched voice.
“What the hell, Colleen? This is my favorite sweater!”
Colleen glared at her as she rubbed her hands over her own coffee-stained gray jacket. “It wasn’t me, Val. Fuck, this is silk.”
“I’m sorry, ladies.”
They both turned to stare up at me, but their looks of anger dropped immediately, and they gave me sweet smiles. Women rarely stayed mad at me, it was the advantage of being handsome and the boss, or rather one of the advantages.
“It was totally my fault,” I explained, using my most soothing tone. “I was trying to dislodge these cuff links. They are an attractive design, but one has ripped the lining of my best coat.”
I pulled my arms forward to show the two women the problem I was having. Colleen stepped forward, she was the more maternal of the two, and started to unhook the links for me. Valerie looked over the rip in my coat.
“I could fix this in a jiff,” she told me, giving me a big, inviting smile.
She was kind, but Eileen’s presence itched at me. She was constantly at the back of my mind.
I smiled at Valerie. “That is very kind of you, but I have a tailor and I wouldn’t want to take your time away from the mailroom. I know how vital they find you down there.”
The small woman beamed at my compliment. She leaned back on her mailcart leisurely.
“Of course, Mr. Silver. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She got off when the elevator hit the next floor.
Colleen handed me my cufflinks and hurried after Val.
“Colleen,” I yelled after her. “I will send over a new cup of coffee for you.”
She smiled and gave me a little wave. I liked to keep my employees happy.
I started rolling up my sleeves. It was a more relaxed look than I was used to at the office, but it would have to do today. Without cuff links, the cuffs of my tailored shirts would flop around. I gave myself a glance in the shiny silver metal of the elevator’s wall. Rolled up cuffs and a tie looked odd, so I started taking my tie off as well.