by Smith, Maren
His black shoes were polished to a shine. His belt was thick black leather, with the only spot of color on him being the shiny silver buckle and the flecks of salt in his pepper-dark hair.
“So,” he said, settling in with one eye on the four-lane street as they waited for her taxi. “What brought you to Black Light tonight? Surely it wasn’t just to come say hi to me.”
Fidgeting her fingers in the overlarge coat, Puppy knew how odd her behavior must seem. She couldn’t help it. Every thought she’d had from the moment she’d stepped out of the back of the cab had been fixated on proving to herself that she could still do this, that she could find her way back to normal, that she didn’t have to be Ethen’s anymore.
That she didn’t have to be afraid.
It had taken every nerve she had just to walk into the building. And then again, to talk to Luís and then walk down the tunnel to the security desk where Danny sat waiting to check members in. Not only had he granted her access to the club, but he’d been very professional about it. And thank God really, because it was that professionalism that had given her the courage to show him her ID, and just like that, she was in.
She’d stood in that doorway with the shop at her back, so stunned to be back in Black Light once more that she almost couldn’t think how to proceed.
Talk to someone. That was the mantra that had dragged her out of the house tonight. Just say hello to somebody—anybody—and then get her ass home so she could be safe again.
There hadn’t been a lot of people to choose from tonight, which had suited her just fine. She’d picked the first guy she’d seen and after that, the entire thing had happened like dominos falling in a line. Had she known he was going to chase out after her, she probably would have picked somebody else. Or, hell, never even come at all.
This was all so nerve wracking.
She’d already thrown up behind the stairs, she was so stressed, and all because she’d dared to break the rules. Ethen’s stupid rules.
Pony was going to kill her.
She swallowed hard. “Y-you don’t have to wait with me, if you don’t want to.”
“Actually, at this point I probably do. Someone needs to bring Danny back his coat. I don’t think he’ll like it too much if I let you wear it home.”
Hunching her shoulders, Puppy brushed her cheek against the soft collar of the thick winter coat, lined with soft flannel and smelling so nicely of a man’s spiced cologne. Unwrapping herself from the warmth of it, she started to shrug out of the sleeves, but Carlson stopped her.
“The cab’s not here yet.”
He physically pulled the coat back up over her shoulders, folding the two halves over one another to wrap her back in warmth. Although out of the wind, the closed shop was still cold. The coat helped, but the tiny bloom of heat that sparked in her stomach as he adjusted it more snugly around her had nothing to do with the clothing.
His hands didn’t linger. There was no creepy last-minute tug meant to remind her that they were all alone up here. When he was done, he simply took his hands back, slipped them into his front pants pockets and propped his back against the wall. Like he had all the time in the world to just hang out with her, in the middle of the night. Like he had nothing else to do and no one else waiting on him.
Unlikely in a place like this. He was handsome. Older than she was by maybe ten years or so, but that just made him seasoned. And if he played his dominant part as well as his outfit suggested, then surely he had no shortage of partners waiting on his return.
She was keeping him from having fun.
“I-if you want to go…” She looked back, fully expecting to see someone hanging out in the shadows, impatiently checking the time and wondering when he was going to get back to their scene.
“I’m fine,” he said. “To be perfectly honest, I was about to get my kit and practice knots for a while.”
“Shibari?” she asked, not because she knew ropes, but she did know enough to know one kind of school.
“Learning,” he acknowledged with a quirk of a smile. “When nights are dead like this, it’s good to just pick something I don’t know and try to get better at it.”
“It’s that dead?”
“You didn’t notice?”
To be honest, she was so fixed on trying to get through ‘hello’ that she hadn’t paid any attention to anything other than the first person she’d seen—him.
“I guess I just assumed,” she hedged, rather than admit how scared she’d been. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it when it’s not busy.”
His chuckle was little more than breath. “Yeah, well, if crowds make you nervous, this would be the perfect time to come take a look around. There is nothing going on tonight. I think there’s two other couples sceneing right now, and one of those was on aftercare when I went to get the coat.”
“The club’s not dying, is it?” Puppy asked, alarmed. She hadn’t been to Black Light in such a very long time, and she honestly couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed being here for an even longer span of time before that. But that wasn’t the club’s fault. That was Ethen’s, and hers she supposed for not having the courage to bail the way Piggy and Kitty had. Nothing lasted forever, but still, the BDSM community was a fickle beast at the best of times. Interest came and went, people came and went, and even those couples who made this a permanent part of their lifestyle—even they came and went. Black Light fit a niche need among a class of people who’d achieved a financial security that most only dreamed of. Puppy certainly hadn’t achieved it, not without Ethen. She had no idea how she’d managed to get in tonight or how her membership could possibly still be valid, but like Pony, this place was a part of her past and one of the few parts that she actually had fond memories of. Not many, but a few. She didn’t want to see it shut down due to lack of attendance.
She felt an odd relief when Carlson shook his head. “No, no. Nothing like that. Some nights are just busier than others. This is just one of those nights when the stars didn’t align for most people. They’ll be back another night. Don’t worry, Black Light isn’t going anywhere.” He glanced at her, his slate gray eyes openly curious. “Would it bother you if it did?”
Puppy looked away. It shouldn’t. God knows, when she left tonight, she might never come back again. “Yes, actually.”
She hated change. That was probably why.
“Do you want to come back down and have a look around?” he asked. “Like I said, it’s a quiet night.”
She looked outside, with no sign yet of the taxi she’d called anywhere on the road yet.
“Come on.” He shoved off the wall. “No one will force you to play, if you don’t want. Just keep me company while I tie my foot up in the world’s most unsexy corset. Whenever you’re ready to go, we’ll just call you another cab.”
Breath catching, she looked from the street back to him. She really should go home. Every minute she stayed out was a risk of getting caught. What if her mom checked on her? What if Pony woke up and saw her empty bed? And yet, as scary as she found the consequences that either of those ‘what ifs’ might spawn, tiny tickles of excitement were awakening in the fluttering nervousness still spinning inside her. Once upon a time, she never would have let doubts like that stop her from dictating what she did or where she went. Once upon a time, she’d been brave, but no longer. Still, she was an adult. In theory, that meant she could stay a few more minutes… if she wanted to… right?
“Okay.” She turned from the exit just as the slight lightening morphed into a taxi pulling up in front of the shop. If she didn’t see it, then she wouldn’t be tempted to let guilt force her into leaving, so she pretended she hadn’t. Instead, she started walking, quickly, before her courage gave out and she changed her mind yet again.
Carlson glanced outside, but if that really was her taxi pulling up in front of the shop, he didn’t say anything. In fact, the only thing he did say was to Danny as they stopped at the security desk long enough for h
er to hand back the coat. “Cancel her cab, would you? She’s going to stay a while longer.”
Puppy averted her eyes, refusing to look at the well-known security guard. When Ethen had been the one checking her in and out of this place, it was eyes on the floor, hands at her sides, and silent as a well-behaved menagerie girl should be. He did all the speaking. He did all the arranging, and the only time she took part in any of it was when Danny asked if she wanted to put her personal affects in a locker. As intent as she’d been sneaking out of the house tonight, the only thing she’d thought to bring was her wallet. But she dug that out of her back pocket and passed it to him.
“Do you have a cellphone?”
She shook her head.
“Then you can keep this on you.” He passed her wallet back. “Have fun.”
It was appalling how much Carlson suddenly felt like Ethen as she followed along, her eyes downcast and her hands at her sides, as he led the way into the dungeon. After that, although she refused to look back and check, she could have sworn she felt Danny’s gaze trailing after them.
“Hang on just a moment while I grab my bag,” Carlson said, pulling a locker key from his pocket and ducking into the men’s changing room.
He was only gone a few moments, but standing in the open entryway with the lockers lined up behind her and the dungeon and lounge spread out in front, she found herself struggling with a whole new set of worries. It felt very strange to be standing here, as if she were any other submissive seeking a night of kinky release. It seemed to be getting harder and harder to remember those times before Ethen when she used to come here. She couldn’t even imagine trying to play without him. Was this what Piggy had felt the night she’d participated in Black Light’s infamous game of Valentine Roulette? Back then, Ethen had made it his mission to make her as uncomfortable as possible, just to remind her to whom she belonged and that her transgressions would not go unnoticed or unpunished.
That was the night everything started to fall apart. It was only a few months after that that the Australian whip-maker, Noah, broke into Ethen’s house, setting the ball in motion that would see the Menagerie Master arrested and Puppy thrown into this limbo existence where nothing felt normal or right.
Two more months whispered through her mind, spoken in Ethen’s ominous voice. The shiver that went up her back was every bit the same as the one she’d felt as she’d stood quaking before his steely gaze at the prison.
Two more months and then she was going to leave limbo and be right back in hell, with Pony and Ethen, where she belonged.
“Ready?”
Puppy startled when Carlson reappeared at her side. She quickly pasted on a smile to hide how sick to her stomach she felt. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Would you be more comfortable in a quiet spot or one out in the middle of everything?” His warm hand came to rest on the small of her back as he gently guided her out of the doorway, where anyone and everyone could now see her. Carlson was right. There weren’t a lot of people here tonight, but those who were—Klara, wiping down the bar; an overly pink server dusting behind bottles and glasses; Spencer coming out of his office—all of them staring after her, knowing what she’d done. Judging her.
“Private,” she whispered hoarsely, struggling to keep panic out of her voice.
It was a mistake. She shouldn’t be here. The bartender knew it. Spencer certainly knew it. Was he still watching her? A quick glance over her shoulder said yes, yes, he was. Any minute now she knew he was going to place a phone call to Jaxson and Chase, and then she was going to be loudly, humiliatingly, irrevocably shown to the door.
“Are you okay?” Carlson asked, startling her from the terrifying direction her thoughts were forcing her to travel.
She nodded, anything but okay. “Yeah… yeah sure.”
“Are you lying to me?” he asked.
The craziest tingle ran right up her back, interrupting the shiver that had preceded it. Her breath caught all over again, but not for the same frightened reason it had before.
His tone was so soft, and yet tinged with warning in a way that was at once both frightening and yet oddly comforting.
She shook her head, another lie.
When he abruptly stopped walking, so did she. Reluctantly, she faced him and they stared at one another until his gaze pointedly dropped to her chest. She followed the direction of his eyes down to her hands, where she held them clapped over her heart between her breasts. It wasn’t her heart she was trying to keep working, though. It was her lungs. Her chest was tight; she wasn’t breathing right.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She stared down at herself. She hadn’t realized how badly she was shaking until she pulled her hands back off her chest and saw the wild trembling that refused to hold still. “I… I don’t like being stared at.”
He beckoned to her with one finger.
Clasping her hands tight over her stomach now instead of her heart, she followed on watery legs as he led her to the nearest spanking bench. Laying his bag on the floor, he sat down on the padded top. When he beckoned again, she crept in to stand between his slightly splayed feet. She pushed hard, fighting to still the distracting flutters in her stomach, this riot of tingling, dread-filled sparkles now spinning inside her. Was this anticipation? It felt like it, and this was something she hadn’t felt in… she couldn’t even remember the last time a look from a man had made her feel anything other than terrified. This definitely wasn’t that. This felt lighter. It rippled as it swept up the backs of her legs, across her bottom and her belly both. It played in her nipples, tightening them into budding peaks that ached to be touched.
“I’m a dom,” Carlson told her. “Admittedly, I’m not your dom, and that’s a very important distinction to make, but I still don’t like being lied to. Whatever it is that’s making you uncomfortable, it’s okay. I get it. You don’t have to lie to me, and I’d just as soon that you didn’t. I want to be able to take every word that comes out of your mouth as the God’s honest truth. Because if I can’t, then I can’t believe anything you say and that makes me very uncomfortable.”
Her hands tightened their grip on one another. Her nipples tightened too, responding to the very nearness of him. The gentle sternness of him.
“Do you want to start over?” he asked.
Barely able to swallow her throat was so tight, she nodded instead.
He held out his hand. “Hi, my name is Carlson Garvey. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
For the third time tonight, she let her trembling hand be engulfed by his.
“Puppy,” she whispered.
The corners of his mouth curled, and yet he still both looked and sounded gently stern when he said, “Do you have a safeword you want to use?”
That started her. “But… I-I’m just keeping you company…”
“That’s the plan,” he confirmed. “But if there’s something going on that you feel you have to lie about, then I’d much rather you called your safeword. That way we can stop whatever we’re doing, we can take a step back, change the subject, whatever we have to do, and you don’t have to lie.”
Her chest was still tight, but for just a moment she didn’t feel quite as strangled when she caught her breath. “Okay.”
“What safeword do you like?”
“Red,” she said.
He nodded. “Would you like to pick the place to play?”
“Red,” she whispered, covering her wildly beating heart with both hands and looking around them. All she could see were all the people in this room staring after her—all three of them. Apart from Klara, Spencer, and the woman in pink, there were two men playing at the suspension hoist. They weren’t staring, but it felt like only a matter of time, and she couldn’t seem to make herself ignore the awkwardness.
“Okay,” Carlson said cautiously. “Does that mean you want me to pick the place?”
Rubbing her stomach, she nodded. Stealing a quick glance over her shoulder, she spotted Spen
cer slowly patrolling around the edge of the dungeon. She didn’t for a second think he was aimlessly strolling through his club. He was stalking her.
She flinched when Carlson touched her elbow. Whether he noticed Black Light’s Dungeon Master watching them from the shadows, she didn’t know, but he bent to pick up his bag and then led her all the way into the far back, into a darkened nook, where no one else was playing.
From here, the bar could not be seen, and neither could Spencer. Especially once Carlson turned her so her back was to the rest of the room, gently forcing her to face both him and the walls behind him.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he opened his bag and began pulling out neatly tied bondage rope. He had a colorful array of them, and for a time Puppy stood watching. Red, blue, green, and black. He had more black ropes than any other color. Bundles and bundles of them, the varying thicknesses denoting different lengths.
As engrossed as she was in watching, she didn’t notice anything wrong until his hands stopped moving.
“Do you want to sit down?” he asked when her gaze bounced up to his.
Shyly, she knelt, subconsciously assuming one of Ethen’s favorite positions with her hands lying palms up on her thighs. She quickly flipped them and caught hold of her own knees. If Carlson noticed her mistake, he didn’t say anything. He just removed his own shoes and socks and got to work tying his two middle toes as if it were a human head and the rest of his foot as if it were a rope bunny’s willing body.
She hadn’t done rope play in such a very long time. Relaxing slightly, she watched him work, loving how easily his hands twisted and wrapped as he worked from memory before pulling out an instruction book, flipping open to a simple beginner’s design, and then starting all over again.
He talked to her the whole time, too. About everything and nothing, and it was the most normal thing she’d done in… she couldn’t remember how long.
He had a beautiful voice. Deep and rich, like molten chocolate. She lost herself in listening to it, the tension slowly seeping from her until at last she was sitting on the floor with her knees drawn up to her chest. She hugged them, admiring the motions of his hands even when he made mistakes, and trying so hard not to be jealous when he finally took the rope off and his own foot was coiled in all those beautiful bondage marks.
