by Rachel Clark
* * * *
Ryan washed his little sub down. He had an idea why she was crying, but he used the excuse of getting her clean to try and decide on how to deal with her tears. It didn’t help that he was feeling way off balance himself.
He’d known training a woman who’d once been his best friend—and his first lover—would be an emotional experience, but he’d never expected it to affect the way he felt about his chosen lifestyle. Granted, he didn’t want a full-time sub, but he had expected the woman he eventually took on as his collared submissive to play that role most of the time they were together.
With Melody he was already missing the easy banter and teasing they’d always shared.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered as he wiped her tears away with his thumbs.
“It’s okay, little sub. Bradley knows what we’re doing.”
She looked at him, perhaps surprised that he’d guessed her reason for crying. “I know, but it’s still messing with my head. I don’t feel guilty, well, not in a way I would if I was betraying him.” She glanced up at him, her words sounding urgent. “I would never have betrayed him. When I came to this club it was only to convince myself that I didn’t crave this lifestyle.”
“That kind of backfired, didn’t it,” Ryan said, unable to hide the indulgent tone. It wasn’t unusual for women to seek out this lifestyle the way Melody had done. For some of them it was the only way to find something they didn’t even realize they needed.
“I’m really glad that I wandered into your club. I’m not sure how I would have explained everything to Brad. He’s never given me any indication that he would want to spank me.”
“A situation he intends to correct,” Ryan said with a smile. “I’m pretty sure it’s the first thing he plans to do when he gets home tonight.”
“How did I miss it, Ry?” she asked.
“Same way Bradley and I underestimated you.” He leaned over, taking her mouth in a soft kiss. “None of us were being honest about what we needed. That’s already changed.”
“I’m sorry I suck at being a full-time submissive.”
He grabbed her face in both of his hands, tilting her gaze up to his to make certain he had her full attention.
“I’m not,” he said honestly. “There are things about this lifestyle I don’t enjoy. Breakfast wasn’t my idea of fun, either.” He smiled at the confused expression on her face. “Mel, there are things I love about this lifestyle, and I plan to teach you them all, but if I don’t show you everything—even the stuff that I don’t particularly like—then I’m not giving you a chance to experience some things that you might really need.”
“There are parts you don’t like?” she asked, sounding very surprised.
“Yes, brat, there are parts I don’t like, either.” He ran his hand over the place where he’d paddled his possession on her ass last night. “And there are some things I really enjoy. Finding what works for all three of us is going to be challenging, but Brad seems convinced we can make it work.”
“But you don’t agree?” It didn’t sound like an accusation. Perhaps, she shared his concerns.
“I’ve lived this lifestyle long enough to know that exploring it can make you see yourself differently. I’ve seen women come through the front door believing themselves to be submissive who’ve instead found a streak of defiance that clearly taught them otherwise. I’ve seen men who thought they were Doms choose an almost vanilla life. I’ve even seen marriages fail when one partner needs this lifestyle more than the other.” He swallowed hard when he thought about the way Robert had fooled them all. “And I’ve seen abusive assholes who put their own needs above all other considerations.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight.
“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. He’d gone over and over it inside his head, and he truly couldn’t think of a way that he might have been able to identify someone like Robert through yet another screening process. Robert had been a hard-assed Dom, disliked by many of the subs but adored by others. Casey, a known masochist, had often played with the man simply because he was hard on his submissives. He’d been a good Dom…until he wasn’t. Even the comment Bradley had made a couple of weeks ago wouldn’t have been enough to raise alarm bells under normal circumstances. Robert was a very intimidating Dom, but in a BDSM lifestyle that was what some submissives were looking for.
“I do know,” Melody said, holding him tighter. “I know you well enough to be certain that you have a screening system that weeds out the bullies.”
“Apparently it doesn’t always work,” Ryan said, happy to hold her even if he should be insisting they go back to the Dom-sub protocols. He’d promised Bradley the three of them would try full time for a week. Standing in the shower talking to his best friend probably wasn’t what Bradley had in mind.
“Well, I still believe you did everything in your power to avoid it.”
“Thank you, little sub,” he said, glad for her support. “Now brace yourself against the wall and show me that ass.”
She smiled, leaned up to kiss his jaw affectionately, and then returned to the role she was expected to play. “Yes, Sir.”
Chapter Eighteen
I glance down at the simple cotton sundress that Ryan has dressed me in. It’s actually quite demure until one considers the fact that I’m not wearing any underwear. But it’s the thing he placed over my clit that has me intrigued. It seemed to take an extraordinarily complicated set of elastic straps to sit it in the right place, but the final result has something pulling gently against the flesh either side of my clit, keeping the tiny nub exposed instead of letting it hide between the upper folds of my labia. It makes it hard to walk naturally, but I suspect it will make it really hard to sit down and keep my legs closed. Considering how short the sundress is, that could be a problem.
I almost use my safe word when Ryan lifts a thick leather collar to my throat, but he sees my fear, promises that if I don’t like it that it will be only a one-time thing, and then attaches a tether to one of the D rings on the collar. I can’t tell by his reaction if this is a part of the Dom-sub experience that he likes or not, but I am very grateful for his obsession with safety. He runs the tether down the front of my body to my bound wrists, threads it through my fingers, and then loops the other end loosely around his own wrist.
He tugs gently, and the pressure is felt in my hands, not my neck.
“Okay, little sub?”
I nod. I have tears in my eyes—not from having to wear a leash, but from the caring I can feel coming from him. I’m beginning to get the impression that he’s never enjoyed this part of the Dom-sub relationship until trying it with me. Strangely, believing that gives me a sense of power, despite my restraints. How very weird.
“Stay close to me,” he says unnecessarily. Did he forget he has me on a leash? He smiles when he sees my raised eyebrow. “Behave yourself and you’ll be rewarded. Give me an attitude like that in front of the other Doms and I’ll make certain you regret it.”
The last is said with a smile, but I get the distinct impression that while he might enjoy meting out the punishment he has in mind, I really won’t appreciate being on the receiving end. Ironically, a part of me is still very curious.
“Come,” he says with a gentle tug on the leash. We step into an elevator that I hadn’t even realized was there. I’m quite grateful. Even with my hands bound in front of me I don’t fancy tripping down a flight of stairs.
I blush furiously when we enter a room where several men in business suits are sitting around a table. Ryan leads me to a padded bench, loops my leash over a hook on the wall, and urges me to sit down. I smile my thanks to Ryan. My knees still feel a little sore from breakfast, so I’m very grateful that I’m not expected to kneel on the floor. Of course sitting demurely is rather challenging.
The Dom I met two weeks ago, Mitchell, gives me a wink before turning a grin to Ryan. “I se
e you have a new pet, Ryan. She’s very pretty.” Considering that I’m currently sporting a full-body blush, I think “sunburned” would be more accurate than “pretty,” but I smile shyly anyway.
“Thank you, Mitch,” Ryan says in a dismissive sort of way. It’s clear he doesn’t want to explain anything to the other Dom. Mitchell already knows I’m engaged to Ryan’s brother, and it’s clear he’s curious to know what has transpired since we met. It’s not something I really want to try and explain to anyone. I smile as I realize that as a sub I’m not actually allowed to explain without getting my Dom’s permission to speak first. Since Ryan is unlikely to give it, I don’t need to explain anything at all. Now there’s a benefit I haven’t considered before.
This meeting is obviously a routine gathering to talk over the week’s events and any issues that may have arisen. Fortunately, it seems to be over rather quickly until one final issue is raised.
“Karly James has written another article for the local newspaper,” a Dom named Grant says through clenched teeth. “She was painting us as cowardly wife beaters before, but since Casey decided not to press charges against Robert she’s been more vocal than ever. Her claims of brainwashing are actually making people sit up and take notice.”
Ryan rubs a hand across his forehead.
“Anything we try to do to stop her will just make things worse,” Mitchell says, looking just as upset as the rest of the men around the table.
“Agreed,” Ryan murmurs quietly. “All we can do is ride out the storm. How is Casey doing with her recovery?”
“Good. Better than the doctors expected. She’s embarrassed by her sister’s newspaper articles, but anytime she tries to talk to her about them, she gets more accusations of brainwashing. I’ve told Casey anytime she wants to move out of her sister’s home that she can bunk with me. The house is rather empty without Bryce.”
The other men remain quiet for a few minutes. I’m not certain, but it seems the fallout from Robert’s actions has caused more problems than just Casey’s heart attack. I don’t even know the woman, yet I feel desperately sorry for her. It’s hard enough to seek out such an unusual lifestyle, but to have it constantly criticized by her own sister must be an awful situation for her.
“Have you heard from Bryce?” Ryan finally asks.
“He’s okay,” Grant says quietly. “Having Karly James hurl accusations at him in the middle of a public hospital corridor didn’t help. I don’t think it’s the only reason he took the Hong Kong assignment, but Robert better not cross my path while Bryce is away. One stupid, selfish, dumbass decision and Robert changed everything for everyone.”
“It’s something I’d like to avoid in the future,” Ryan says calmly. “Any ideas on how we can identify Doms like Robert?”
“My theory,” Mitchell says in his deep voice, “is that it was possibly the result of pent-up frustration. He’d had a lot of subs use their safe words with him in the weeks leading up to Casey’s attack—even Bianca and Kate safe worded him.”
“That’s no excuse,” Grant says angrily.
“I’m not making excuses for him,” Mitchell says in that deep, rumbling voice that I’d found so intimidating that first night—and in all honesty still do. “I’m merely trying to identify any warning signs that we missed.”
“Have you spoken to Bianca and Kate?” Ryan asks.
Mitchell raises an eyebrow and apparently waits long enough for Ryan to realize that was a stupid question. “Yes, I spoke to them both. Bianca says that with Robert she often used ‘yellow’ to slow things down, but Kate has never safe worded anyone. When she first told me, I was glad to hear that she reached a point where she knew to use it. I was even grateful to Robert for pushing her to that point. I’ve long been worried for Kate’s safety. It takes a lot of pain for her to get into subspace, and once she’s there she seems oblivious even to extreme danger. I actually forbade her to play outside of the club.”
“Good call,” Ryan says. “How did she take it?”
“Quite well,” Mitchell replies with a nod. “I think she realizes that the type of play she enjoys can easily get out of hand. At least with the dungeon monitors around she’ll be protected even if she forgets to use her safe word.”
“Can we do that with some of the other subs?”
“I’ve already spoken to those at highest risk, but we really have no control once they go home.”
Ryan still looks concerned, but he nods and says, “Thanks, Mitch, I really appreciate your help on this.”
“Not a problem,” Mitchell answers with a smile. “Many of my clients are members of the club these days.” He holds up a hand, perhaps stopping whatever question Grant was going to ask. “All of the subs and even several of the Doms have signed waivers for me to discuss issues that may be a problem inside the club. I have their trust, and I don’t plan to abuse it.” He smiles but breathes out heavily. “It does make it tricky some play nights, though.”
“Just as well you’ve got a sub who doesn’t like sharing,” Grant says in a slightly more jovial voice.
“Very true,” Mitchell agrees with a wicked grin.
They talk for a little while longer and then finish their meeting. I watch as the other men leave quickly, but Mitchell stays behind, clearly curious enough to court Ryan’s annoyance.
“Anything I should know?” he asks with a nod in my direction.
“No,” Ryan says in that dismissive tone once more. Apparently Mitchell knows Ryan well and isn’t the least bit intimidated by his attitude.
“So I don’t need to keep an eye out for irate fiancés?”
Ryan breathes out heavily, obviously annoyed at the questions but apparently realizing that he owes his friend an explanation. “Bradley knows what’s going on. For the most part, it was his idea.”
“For the most part?” Mitchell asks, managing to keep a straight face.
“Drop it, Mitch,” Ryan says irritably.
Mitchell holds up his hands in surrender. “Just doing my job,” he says in a rather smug-sounding voice. “You’re the one who made the rule that any Dom who introduces a sub to this lifestyle in your club is responsible for her welfare. I’m just doing what you asked. Making certain the little sub is well cared for.”
Ryan runs a hand down his face and laughs softly. “You’re a real bastard some days.” But there is no heat in his words, just the type of brotherly teasing I often see between Ryan and Bradley. “Melody has a contract with both myself and Bradley for the next three weeks. This week she is a full-time submissive with two Doms. We’ll review the situation on Sunday and adjust accordingly.”
“So Bradley is coming back into the fold?”
Ryan nods, grinning widely, clearly happy to have his brother step back into the BDSM lifestyle. Mitchell grins as well and turns to face me. “Well, pretty sub,” he says with a quick glance at Ryan, “it looks like you did what neither of them could do alone. Made them agree on something.”
“I think I hear your sub calling,” Ryan says, crossing his arms and trying to look stern.
Mitchell grins but doesn’t react to Ryan’s teasing. “You know Haley is going to insist that the three of you come for dinner.”
“I know.” Ryan rolls his eyes heavenward. “You really need to stop letting her top from the bottom.” Mitchell smiles but doesn’t deny the inference. It’s kind of hard to believe that such a large and intimidating man would let his sub—his wife, judging by the wedding ring on his left hand—dictate his life, but that seems to be what they are saying. I think I’m looking forward to meeting his wife again. That first night I’d been too intimidated to truly appreciate the woman. “Maybe next week,” Ryan finally says.
“Done,” Mitchell agrees with a wide grin. “Haley will be really glad to hear Bradley’s come home.” Mitchell sends another wink my way and leaves the room quickly.
“What did he mean by that?” I ask as jealousy worms through me. Why would Mitchell’s sub be interested in my fian
cé?
“Mind your manners, little sub, or I’ll be forced to give you that punishment.”
“Oh, sorry, Ry,” I say quietly. “I mean Sir.” I dip my head, trying to remember what the proper protocols are for demanding an answer from my Dom. I almost growl at the situation. Jealousy is pounding through me and I can’t even ask a damn question.
“Green is not a pretty color on you, little sub.”
Great, so he knows I’m jealous and I still can’t demand an answer. “Sir?” I ask in a pathetically pleading tone of voice. Crap, I hadn’t meant to sound so whiny. “Ry, please.”
He smiles, shakes his head, lifts the handle of my leash off the wall, and points to the ground at his feet. I know what he wants, but I’m annoyed enough at him evading my question to consider defying him.
“Last warning, little sub. If I take a cane to your ass now, you won’t enjoy tonight’s spanking.”
I move quickly, not because I’m scared of being caned—it’s in our contract—but because I really want to experience the euphoria I’ve read about that many women in this lifestyle get from a spanking. It was the thing that sent me looking for more information about BDSM in the first place.
“Good girl,” Ryan says as he places his hand on the side of my head and urges me to rest my face against his thigh. It’s a surprisingly comfortable position, and for some reason it makes me feel quite cherished. He caresses his hand over my hair as he sort of answers my question. “Bradley and I have been in this lifestyle for a long time. You’ll twist yourself in knots if you start wondering who we might have played with over the years.”
“I don’t have to like it, though,” I say sullenly.
“True,” Ryan says, still playing with my hair. “The same way I don’t have to like the idea that you’ve had lovers who weren’t me or Bradley.” I blush crimson at the reminder. All of my recent experience was with Bradley, and Ryan was my first, but there were a few men in between—not many, but certainly not zero.
