by BJ Wane
As Shawn pulled in front of his home, Clayton drove up behind him in his Bronco, dashing his hopes of coming up with a work excuse to delay pulling his weight at the club. Sliding out of the cruiser, he gave himself a mental kick for the selfish idea and jerked a thumb toward the front door as Clayton joined him.
“Come on in. It won’t take me long to get ready.”
“We have time. I finished early today, but you were still out.” A satisfied grin creased Clayton’s tan face, revealing the dimples women loved. “Nailed the son of a bitch with a ten-year mandatory sentence. Fuck, but winning is good.”
“I pity the poor person whose circumstances should grant them leniency but they end up with you on their case. You’re a cold bastard in the courtroom.”
Clayton possessed a ruthless, unforgiving streak when it came to lawbreakers. He’d never forgiven the courts for letting the drunk driver who had smashed into his parent’s car, killing them instantly while leading the cops on a high-speed chase, walk free on a technicality. As a prosecutor, he never acknowledged gray areas by offering a plea bargain or reduced sentence.
His grin turned wicked as he replied, “I save my warm, good nature for those sweet submissives. They love me.”
Shawn sent him a wry look as they entered the cabin. “Until you dump them. I thought I heard last week they have a bet going on regarding who can hold your attention the longest.”
“Cool. I can have some fun with that. Don’t you ever tire of all this wood?” he questioned, looking around the log walls and wood ceiling.”
“Don’t you ever tire of the industrial look?” Shawn didn’t know what Clayton found appealing about open duct work and the modern iron and brick décor of his home.
“Can’t say I do, not yet, anyway. Hey, there. You going to let me pet you today?” Clayton squatted down and held a hand out to the dogs as they rose from their beds but stayed out of reach.
“Mo, Curly, come.” Shawn patted his leg but the shepherds didn’t budge. “Sorry, Clay. There are dog treats under the sink. Try bribing them while I change.”
While taking a quick shower, Shawn made an effort to get in the mood to pull his weight as co-owner of Spurs tonight. That meant taking the time to socialize with new guests, show them around or give a demonstration or two, and at least act like he enjoyed exerting his dominance. It pissed him off to find himself so blasé about indulging his sexual preferences at this age. Thirty-five wasn’t even close to fifty, when he’d expected to go through the recent up-and-down mood swings plaguing him. Both Clayton and Dakota had passed their mid-thirties birthday, and neither seemed bothered.
After dressing in his usual club attire of jeans, boots, and a black leather vest over a cream work shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he was in a marginally better frame of mind. His attitude improved even more when he returned to the living area and saw the dogs had made friendly with Clayton.
“Was it your charm or a treat?”
“My charm, of course. But the large dog biscuits didn’t hurt my case.”
“I’ll bet. I need to let them out for a bit before we leave, so we have time to eat.”
Clayton winced with exaggeration. “Nothing you put together, I hope.”
“No,” he returned, unoffended. He was the first to admit he couldn’t cook worth a damn. “I picked up barbeque.”
“Works for me. I’ll put it in while you keep an eye on the dogs.”
An hour later, Shawn drove to Spurs, determined to get his head back in the game of playing and off everything else for the night.
Chapter Three
Lisa didn’t have as much trouble finding the tucked-away, log-hewn private club as she did finding a place to park. She was used to a smaller venue and, seeing so many vehicles, she almost whipped around and returned to her newly rented home. The thought of spending another lonely evening by herself held less appeal than hanging out in such a large crowd, though, and she found a space big enough for her compact car at the far end of the last row.
No one else was arriving as she made her way to the front door, but it was already close to the ten o’clock deadline to enter, according to the website information for guest night. Besides shoring up her nerve to not only try a new place but to give the lifestyle another shot at breaking through the mental block holding back her physical response, moving from the B&B into the rental house had taken longer than she’d anticipated.
Fatigue tugged at her as she entered, and she questioned whether she should have waited another night to seek a Dom willing to take her on for the few months she would be here. Her unplanned-for encounters with Shawn had overcome the relief from putting distance between her and her stalker with plaguing thoughts and dreams of a deep need she couldn’t label. Attraction or lust didn’t seem to cover the extent of her reaction the two times they’d come across each other, leaving her both befuddled and annoyed. This was not what she’d anticipated when coming here, but then, her main concern had centered around getting away to someplace safe, so she had that excuse to rely on.
A young brunette wearing a red satin teddy that barely covered her full breasts greeted Lisa from behind a desk. “Hello. Welcome to Spurs. You’ve just made it as Master Dakota sent instructions to lock the doors.” She stood, coming around the desk with a smile, wearing the shortest denim cutoffs Lisa had ever seen with a pair of red cowgirl boots. The odd ensemble somehow suited the hostess who looked to be not older than nineteen or twenty. “I’m Charlotte. Go ahead and sign the roster while I lock the doors. I don’t want to get on Master Dakota’s bad side.”
Lisa returned her grin, remembering a few Doms she’d steered clear of at her other club to avoid their reputed strict punishments after learning how much she could take and still reap benefits. While the relief she’d gotten through pain-induced stimulation had surprised her, and she’d pushed one Master into more, it was Master Wade who helped her understand, and accept that the harsher aspects of the lifestyle weren’t for her. He had taken her to the very edge of her limit, so good at his craft he knew when to stop before she did, and scolded her for pressuring him for more. She shuddered, recalling his alternative means for punishment.
There were only eleven names above hers on the list of guests, which, given the parking lot, surprised her. “What’s the N next to some of these names?” she asked Charlotte when the receptionist returned to the desk.
“It stands for newbie, and it’s also on their nametag. What brings you here tonight, the free admission, or are you new to Boise?”
“New to Mountain Bend. I’ve taken a temporary job, for now.”
“Awesome. Your timing is perfect. The new owners have just completed a second story addition, and we’re all pleased with the private rooms and loft lounge. Come on. I’ll see which Master is free to show you around, since I’m assuming you don’t need instructions on the standard club rules.”
“No, only those specific to this club.”
Lisa followed her through the double doors, taking in the row of Stetsons hanging on hooks along the wall. “Oh, wow, no wonder the parking lot is full. This place is huge.”
“It’s even bigger with the upper levels.” Charlotte pointed to the right where a staircase led to a hallway that ran the length of the building in front of five closed doors. At wood and wrought iron railing ran along both upper levels. “It looks like they’re already in use – otherwise the doors are left open.”
With a nod, Lisa’s gaze swept the center of the room’s rafter-and-skylighted ceiling, shifting to glimpse the seating on the upper opposite side before taking in the lower floor. She wasn’t a connoisseur of country western music, but the two-stepping dancers gyrating their hips in tune to an upbeat song matched the rhythm with an ease she envied, considering what a klutz she was on the dance floor. Different bondage apparatus were positioned along the side walls, and, from what she could see across the huge room and out the windows, opportunities to indulge outdoors were also provided. All of t
he stools around the circular, center-positioned bar were occupied and about half of the tables.
“You like?” Charlotte asked.
“What? Oh, yes, sorry. Just taking in the differences and similarities to the club I was a member of back home.” Nervously, Lisa ran her hands down her short denim skirt, comparing her sleeveless white blouse covering a blue demi bra to the sexy lingerie most of the women were wearing. “I wasn’t sure what to wear, as I planned to just check the place and Masters out tonight.”
“You’re fine. As long as there’s bare skin, they’re happy. You’re in luck.” Charlotte nodded toward the tall, bald man approaching them dressed in black leathers and vest, his chest bare, a gold earring winking under the dim lighting, and his dark eyes zeroed in on Lisa. “It seems Master Simon is up next to chaperone. Good evening, Sir.”
“Charlotte, sweetheart, introduce me to our guest, please.”
The deep rumble of his voice reminded Lisa of Shawn’s tone when he had addressed her, Master Simon’s focused gaze much the same also. Or maybe she was still thinking too much about him, even though she wouldn’t mind getting to know this Master better.
“This is Lisa Halldor, sir. She’s new to Mountain Bend, but not to the lifestyle. Lisa, I hope you enjoy your evening and come back.”
Master Simon nodded, giving Charlotte permission to leave before holding his hand out to Lisa. “Would you prefer to start with a tour or to visit over a drink?”
She took his hand, and when she didn’t get even a spark, her hopes of diluting her unexpected ache for Shawn were dashed. Refusing to give up, she worked up a smile and replied, “We can talk while walking around, can’t we?”
“You like to use your time efficiently, an admirable trait. All right, then, let’s start with a stroll down the south side.”
Lisa went with him, leaning close and craning her head up to hear better as they viewed scenes already in progress, and he introduced her to other members along the way. She told him which equipment she had experience with, as well as her preferences. He didn’t pressure her for information, which made him easy to talk to, and his strong hold of her hand kept her grounded, a familiar and welcome feeling she’d missed lately. She warmed when he stopped at a spanking bench on the north side where the bound woman’s bright red butt was on an elevated display.
“It appears Kathie has been up to her usual antics,” Master Simon drawled. “Lisa, this is Master Clayton. What did she do this time to earn your displeasure, Clayton?”
Master Clayton delivered a blistering swat with his wooden paddle before turning to face them. Lisa expected to see him scowling, his face etched with displeasure at the woman, but his lips were twitching and his blue eyes twinkling. His sandy hair curled around his neck, contrasting with his tanned, rugged face and dark jawline.
“She tried to trip me to get my attention off one of our guests.” He jerked a thumb toward the girl seated on a cushion at the foot of the bench. “Alicia here is getting educated on what happens when a sub steps out of line, which this one” – he caressed Kathie’s abused butt – “likes to do. Welcome to Spurs, Lisa.”
She forced her eyes away from the casual stroking of his hand over the puffy cheeks and the damp sheen coating the submissive’s swollen folds. “Thank you, sir.”
“You enjoy setting Kathie straight just as much,” Master Simon said. “You two make a good pair.” His smirk drew Lisa’s curiosity until his friend answered.
“For the occasional hook up, sure.”
Ah, that was it – Master Clayton stuck with playing the field. She would keep him in mind if she decided to join. She liked the way he maintained his easy going attitude while meting out harsh discipline.
“Later, then.” As Master Simon tugged her into moving, she reddened from both men’s eyes shifting to the obvious outline of her hardened nipples. Leaning down, he asked, “Are you interested in stepping the evening up a notch?”
Yes, the scene, and Kathie’s obvious response to the pain, had reminded her how she would get wet and aroused before she’d shut down. “Honestly, sir, I’m not sure.” Between thoughts of Shawn continuing to distract her and worrying about a return of the coldness that had recently nixed the few rewards she’d reaped from submission, she wanted to be careful about not making a mistake going forward.
“Do you want to tell me what’s holding you back? You’ve indicated you have experience.”
“I’m being cautious is all. The last few times, I haven’t…there are some upheavals in my life that…oh, hell, I don’t know what I want to say.” Lisa blew out a frustrated breath and tried to pull out of his grip.
Master Simon refused to let her, instead drawing her against his leather-clad legs and bare chest. She sucked in a breath, the quick flare of arousal from his control offering a sliver of hope. “Running doesn’t solve problems, it only delays them. You came tonight for a reason. Why not see it through? Unless you have a preferred safeword, use the standard red, and I stop, no harm done. I know the signs of stress to watch for, Lisa.”
Because she really wanted to, Lisa agreed before she changed her mind. “Yes, sir, I’d like that, but I prefer facing you.”
“Agreed. I would have insisted anyway as that makes my job easier. How about a chain station.” He pointed several feet down. “One just came available. You don’t mind public scenes, right?”
She liked he wanted to make sure, even though she was experienced. Oddly enough, exhibitionism had turned her on from the onset of her foray into BDSM, giving her a big boost of courage those first few times. “Right, and the chain station is fine.”
He ushered her past a metal contraption with an assortment of narrow pads. She shivered, recognizing the restraining bench most often used by those into S&M. A thrill of anticipation tickled her skin as they reached the chain and he attached the cuffs, raising her arms before his hands went to the buttons of her blouse.
“We’ll start with partial undress since this is a new venue for you. Pretty,” he said, releasing the last button and spreading her top to reveal her propped-up breasts in the strapless bra.
Lisa shuffled her bare feet, enjoying his praise, but the exposure to cooler air and a few interested gazes made her more than ready to get started. She clenched her hands as he flicked open the front clasp on the bra and removed it, her nipples puckering into even tighter nubs under his appreciative look and from the brush of his finger across each one that added a sizzle to her blood flow.
“Sir.” She arched toward him in a silent plea, the need for a distraction from her woes rising to the surface of her insecurities.
“Relax, sweetheart, we’ll get there. Which instrument do you prefer?”
He stepped back and twirled his finger for her to pivot and look behind her. His accommodating manner was starting to grate, and Lisa turned, wishing he would just take over. One of the things she liked best about submitting was letting a Dom take the weight of decision-making off her shoulders.
The array of pain-inflicting choices was familiar, and she chose her favorite. “The flogger, please, sir.”
Lisa faced the room again as Master Simon picked a multi strand one with a short handle. He was a handsome man, his crooked smile when he stood in front of her again softening his otherwise chiseled face. Shawn’s face popped into her head, the memory of the probing glint in his silver eyes and straightforward way of talking to her causing her pulse to flutter. She closed her eyes in order to concentrate on the man she was with and what he could hopefully do for her.
She shook as he trailed the thin strands across her quivering breasts then over her abdomen above the waistband of her skirt. Craving the sting, she held her breath, waiting for it. He continued to tease, tickling down the front of her legs then up her back and over her tense shoulders. A groan slipped past her compressed lips when he started over, taking the same path.
“Sir, please,” she whimpered as he reached her breasts for the third time yet still denied her the bite o
f pain she craved.
“You’re too impatient. It’s been a while, you said. Open your eyes and enjoy the play.”
She didn’t want to; she only needed the ounce of relief she used to gain from this. It hadn’t been much of a bump-up from the disappointments that had driven her to explore the lifestyle, but the orgasms she had experienced at the Doms’ hands in Phoenix were more than she’d ever gotten from her vanilla affairs.
Used to obeying, she looked at him and replied, “I prefer a harder touch. Sir.”
He sighed, as if let down, but nodded. Quaking with anticipation, she braced for the first snap, but when he struck her waist, the quick there-and-gone burn dwindled so fast she barely felt it. He was still treating her with kid gloves, adding to her disappointment and mounting frustration. Lisa bit her lip to keep from complaining, breathed in through her nose, and forced herself to be patient.
****
“This is ridiculous. Let me go, you jerk!”
Shawn narrowed his eyes and reached for the girl’s bound wrist attached to the headboard slat. “If you just wanted to fuck a stranger, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
This, she was why he hated newbie night. It was just his luck to pair up with an immature, annoying chit who had insisted on exploring her “needs” in one of the private rooms only to have her turn on him the second she realized he wasn’t one of her college boys to lead around by his dick.
As soon as the cuff fell away and she lowered her arm, she slid the thin strap of her tank top down, lifting her breast out with a cajoling smile as she sat up. “Don’t get so huffy just because I want both my hands free to touch you.” She eyed him as if he were a decadent dessert.
“Candy, is it?” he asked politely, just to annoy her since he knew her name.
