Mission Statement

by Catherine Gardiene

  He pulled in front of a fairly nondescript building at the edge of a corporate park. It had initially been a fitness center. When the owner, a man named Jonas Mitchell whom Michael now considered a friend, had first seen the property, he’d been considering an upscale dance club. As he drove to the site, he knew instantly the location was totally wrong for his original concept, but as he thought about it, he realized it was perfect for an idea that had lingered in the back of his mind for years.

  Jonas, an experienced dom, had contemplated opening a BDSM club since he’d relocated to the Syracuse area from Buffalo. The places he’d frequented, more publicly accessible venues, weren’t suited to his tastes. He had no desire to run a club that catered to Goths and neo-punk rockers, albeit with a sexual edge. Being more selective in his clientele meant a very different business model. After studying the space, appreciating the wide-open layout of the main floor surrounded by smaller rooms fully visible through windows designed to entice people to take spinning, kickboxing, or aerobics classes, he began to seriously reconsider his plans.

  He’d closed the deal on the defunct fitness center more than a decade before, and after extensive remodeling, Club Marquis was only four months from celebrating its ten-year anniversary and had just accepted its one-thousandth member. While Michael wasn’t among the charter members of the exclusive club, he still held a double-digit member number. Over the years, he and Jonas had shared a few drinks, as well as a few women. Jonas liked ménages almost as much as he liked being in charge of the club. The level of confidentiality and privacy that Club Marquis offered made it appealing to many, and the professionalism that Jonas exhibited in keeping the place true to his initial vision helped him retain almost ninety percent of his members.

  Michael knew the exterior wasn’t much to look at, by design. Still, he needed to be certain before he continued. After he parked the car, he turned to study her.

  “Last chance to change your mind, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to do this?” Say yes, dear sweet girl, please say yes.

  Her gaze moved from the unimposing and generic exterior of the club to him, then back again. Finally she spoke, the whisper of her voice belying the confidence she exuded as she squared her shoulders.

  “Yes, Michael. I want this. With you, I want this.”

  Her response was so genuine and so full of trust that he couldn’t help but kiss her. Excitement surged through him at what he was about to do, what she was giving to him, that he had to consciously control his breathing, the speed of his steps.

  He opened her car door and helped her out. Escorting her to the entrance, he kept his hand gently at the small of her back, noting she kept her gaze locked on the maroon door in front of them. There weren’t many cars in the lot—no more than thirty or so—which was good. He wanted the relative calm of a Sunday for her first time. In addition, Sunday was a day normally frequented by people who were couples outside of the club as well. The scenes were usually more intense and more drawn out.

  Opening the door to guide her in, he was surprised to see Jonas at the reception desk.

  “Greetings, Michael. Julia mentioned you might be stopping by.” Julia was his office manager, and Michael had called her on Friday to get things prepared for him to bring Vicki.

  “I thought it would be easier if the paperwork was ready. But I didn’t expect to see you out front. Where’s Jack?” Club Marquis always had someone at the door to ensure only members could enter. Many of them rotated through stations, acting as dungeon monitor or bouncer throughout the course of a shift. Jack was unique in that he only manned the door. He wasn’t into the scene, but he’d been one of Jonas’s closest friends since childhood; he’d handled setting up the security, and he liked to pull shifts on the door when it was quiet because it gave him a chance to check on the equipment.

  Jack was actually the one who’d introduced him to Jonas. He and Michael had worked together in Special Victims for several months, long before Michael had made detective. During a particularly nasty case, it had become evident to Jack that Michael knew more about ropes, knots, and bondage and restraint techniques than was normal, even for a former Eagle Scout. The conversation they’d had over several beers had been awkward at the time, but hysterical in hindsight. And it had led Michael to Jonas, and to Club Marquis.

  “He caught an ugly one last night. I figured it would be quiet, so I’m covering for now. Sam’s coming in early to relieve me, so I’m only out here for another half hour or so.” Jonas took an appraising look at Victoria and nodded. “Nice to see you with company.”

  “Thanks. Let me introduce you. Jonas, this is Victoria. Victoria, say hello to Master Jonas.” He felt her tremble, and he stroked his thumb against her palm to calm her.

  She lifted her head slightly and peeked at him through her lashes. “Hello. Uh, Sir.”

  Jonas coughed to cover his laugh. “Julia mentioned she was a novice. Why don’t you take her into the interview room and have her fill out the paperwork? Since it’s quiet, if you both want to change in there, you’re welcome to.”

  Michael nodded in assent. It would be easier on her if they changed together, rather than send her alone into the ladies room. He felt very protective of her and hated the idea of her feeling isolated or afraid. Taking the paperwork from Jonas’s hands, he guided her to a small room off the lobby.

  Jonas had set up several interview rooms outside the club area. Nobody became a member until they’d interviewed with him and Jack, as well as filling out confidentiality agreements and background check forms. By calling Julia ahead of time, they’d initiated the search. It wasn’t technically legal without her release, but once she’d signed it, they’d pull the results.

  While Vicki reviewed the sheets he’d handed her and signed in all the right places, Michael changed into brown leather pants and a tight white T-shirt while she worked, then sat back and stared. Once she finished, he handed the pile of soft silk to her and leaned back to watch. When she tried to turn her back to him, he cleared his throat.

  “With what we’re about to share, I think your modesty is a bit of a non sequitur, don’t you? Face me and strip, Victoria.” Once she’d changed her clothes, he added the special accessories he’d bought for her and they exited the little room.

  Michael handed the completed paperwork to Jonas and waited for him to finish the process in his office. With a silent nod from the doorway, Jonas signaled his approval, and Michael was about to enter the club when his friend called to him.

  “Do you want to borrow a collar?”

  Stopping in his tracks, Michael put a hand to his forehead. How could he have been so stupid? Without a collar or some other marking, there was a chance she’d be approached if she was alone. He hadn’t planned on leaving her alone, but it was always better to play it safe. The look in her eyes was one of complete confusion. He extended his hand.

  “Something subtle, if you have it,” Michael requested.

  “I have just the thing. Watch the desk for me,” Jonas said, returning to his private office behind the reception desk.

  Moments later he emerged and placed a blue velvet ribbon in Michael’s hand. He’s right. It’s perfect. He tucked it in his pocket, thanking Jonas, and led Vicki to the doorway.

  Wanting to minimize the drama for her, Michael simply opened the door and allowed Vicki to step through. In the future, he would walk in first, but this time would be different. She certainly looked the part of a submissive, her head bowed down slightly while she took everything in, beautiful baby doll lingerie over a sexy thong, cuffs on her wrists to allow for immediate restraint when needed. His cock hardened immediately at the sight of her in those surroundings.

  The heavy bass beat of the music soothed him and helped him adjust to his role. He pulled her to the side to whisper in her ear.

  “I’d like to put this ribbon around your neck. If you’re wearing a collar, no other dom will approach you to play. For today would you wear this so I can be sure you’r
e comfortable?” Offering a woman a collar was a big deal to him, although he doubted Victoria appreciated the gravity of his request. His goal was to make sure she was safe. For this one night, he could pretend she was his collared sub, knowing she wasn’t equipped to handle the inquiries of another dom.

  Maybe you don’t just want this for one night.

  He silenced the voice in his head. It was too soon, and more than he was ready for anyway. Hell, she hadn’t acknowledged she was a submissive yet, and there was still a chance she’d deny it just because she was too freaked out to deal with it.

  She nodded before catching herself. “Yes, Sir,” she said in a husky voice that shot straight to his cock.

  His fingers trembled as he toyed with the catch and then adjusted the tightness so it was snug without being constricting. He ran his finger underneath before checking to make sure she was comfortable.

  He wanted to bend her over the sofa next to them and claim her, right there in front of everyone. To make sure she knew, and they knew, she belonged to him. He pushed down his desire, shocked at the intensity and afraid of what it might mean. He had a job to do, and he needed to stick to the plan. Losing her for good because he couldn’t be patient was something he couldn’t chance.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The collar. She’d read enough to know what a collar meant, but she also knew that he was just protecting her. Based on what he’d told her about things with Holly, she knew he was about as interested in collaring someone as she was in dancing naked on one of the tabletops that were littered around the room.

  The club was dark, the main open area filled with leather sofas and roll-arm chairs set in clusters. There was a circular bar to the right, standing like an island between the main area and a smaller room with a dance floor. Michael told her that private playrooms were available upstairs, and more secluded seating areas lined the railing, allowing those that chose to sit there a bird’s-eye view of the action below.

  The main floor had scene areas and equipment lining the edges of the space. She took it all in, comparing it in her mind with the things she’d read about, recognizing some things but being totally confused by others.

  Michael called her attention to an entryway across the room.

  “I’m sure you’ve read about dungeons. Not my favorite play area, but Jonas gives classes back there for newbies. If you’d like, we could attend one of those next time.”

  Next time. Would there be a next time, she wondered. God, I hope so.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the tickets he’d gotten from Jonas. He’d told her there was a one-drink limit, strictly imposed using a coded ticket system. BDSM play and alcohol were not a good combination.

  “Come,” he said, holding out his hand. She tried to place her hand in his, but he wrapped his hand around the cuff circling her wrist. He’d explained the difference when they’d discussed protocols, but she’d forgotten. I’m going to have to concentrate to remember all these rules.

  When they reached the bar, he placed their tickets on the counter.

  “The usual?” the bartender asked. When Michael nodded, the man raised an eyebrow and nodded to Vicki. “Anything else?” He had to know there would be something else. He wasn’t blind, and there were two tickets on the counter. Before Vicki could answer, Michael released her wrist and wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her under his arm possessively.

  “She’ll have a cabernet. This is Victoria. I’m giving her a tour,” he offered.

  The bartender nodded and poured Michael’s scotch and Vicki’s wine. Sliding both drinks across the counter, he palmed the tickets and scanned them into the computer.

  Vicki studied the man behind the bar. He was taller than Michael but leaner. His hair, almost a buzz cut, gave him a fierce look, like a drill sergeant. It wasn’t lost on her that most of the men she’d seen in the place had the same commanding presence that Michael had. She found herself intimidated, something she thought she’d overcome early in her career. This place was different.

  When the bartender turned back from the computer, she dropped her gaze and studied the bar, afraid to make eye contact with him. Peering up through her lashes, she saw him give Michael a questioning look. “May I?”

  Michael nodded, and he smiled gently at Victoria. “Have an informative visit, Victoria. Your master is one of the best. I’m sure you’ll enjoy your tour.” He emphasized the word tour and Victoria blushed bright red, trembling slightly.

  Laughing, he observed, “She’s a shy one, isn’t she?”

  Michael cleared his throat. “She’s new to the scene. Jonas thought if I collared her, it would be safer than…” He scanned the room, as if an explanation of his unusual behavior would somehow magically appear in the air. “She’s with me.” He punctuated the last word with a squeeze of her waist. He sounds like he’s staking a claim on me. The idea thrilled and scared her in equal measure.

  “My apologies. Smart move, though. She’s lovely. You wouldn’t want to leave her unprotected.”

  Vicki listened to them talk about her as if she wasn’t standing right there—a human being capable of human interaction. Michael had been very clear about speaking when not spoken to. She grew increasingly annoyed as the conversation continued without him even telling her the man’s name, but she was afraid of embarrassing him, or getting herself in trouble, so she held her tongue and tuned them out.

  When Michael and the bartender finally ended their discussion, he directed her to a chair near one of the alcoves. She shuffled toward it, her head down. The activity around the room had her thoughts jumbled. There were sounds and smells that made her feel incredibly turned on, but also like she was intruding. Moans and smacks floated from the edges of the room, and she averted her gaze every time they landed on people engaged in what Michael called play. The music masked some of the sounds, but the room just reeked of sex. The throbbing between her legs, which had dissipated when they’d been changing clothes and filling out paperwork, had come back full force.

  He placed their drinks on a table and sat in the deep club chair next to it before pulling her onto his lap. She squirmed and tried to pull away, but he grabbed her around the waist and tugged until she was snuggled up against him, his erection pressing into her hip.

  “Where do you think you’re going, sub? I want you right here.” He rested his hand on her thigh and began tracing circles on her skin. She squeezed her legs together, and her eyes widened.

  “What are you—”

  “Hush. I won’t do anything unless you ask. I like touching you. That’s all.” He was soothing her, trying to make her feel comfortable, but she tensed.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

  She crossed her arms, and he gave her a stern look. Letting her arms loosen, she raised her gaze to his.

  “You were talking about me like I was a potted plant or something. I didn’t like it. And then he said all that stuff about leaving me unprotected. What the hell kind of place is this, if I’m in danger with you right here in the room with me?” She knew what kind of a place it was, but part of her was scared. A big part. The club didn’t seem that full, but she had counted at least thirty people that she could see, and there were sounds coming from some of the alcoves outside her line of sight, so she knew there were more.

  “I told you, I just want you to be comfortable. But a collar…well it says something about our relationship. I told you about the collaring ceremony that Holly wanted, and I told you that I haven’t been in a relationship since then. Rob was surprised to see me with a collared sub, that’s all.” He brushed the hair back from her face and pressed his lips to hers briefly before running his hand from her hair down her arm, back to her thigh. It gave her goose bumps. “I’ve been coming here a long time. I’m not usually one to surprise them.”

  She exhaled loudly and looked away from him, staring over his shoulder at the wall. He’d avoided the whole issue of ignoring her. Sure, he’d explained that sh
e wasn’t to speak to anyone without his instruction, but why couldn’t he at least introduce her like a normal person? It wasn’t like the guy was visiting the club. He was an employee, and it sounded like he might have even been a friend of Michael’s. If it wasn’t for the caveman clutch he laid on me, I’d think he was ashamed of me.

  He gripped her chin firmly and turned her to face him again.

  “Perhaps we should review the protocols again. Talking about you instead of engaging you in the conversation…well, that’s something we discussed, remember? Rob’s a dominant, one of the DMs here.” Well, if he was a dom, she thought, maybe he expected her to be subservient no matter what. In the books she’d read, there were women who were submissive all the time. That’s not me. I can’t do that. The thought that she couldn’t be with Michael in this place because of all the rules overwhelmed her. She knew it was important to him. Just suck it up, Vick.

  “He wouldn’t talk to you without my permission, and I wasn’t very comfortable explaining our, uh…unique circumstances here today. Quite frankly, it’s none of his business.”

  “Oh…” Maybe I’m reading more into this than I should.

  “Yes. Oh. I’m just taking care of you. You’re probably going to have a lot of questions, and I want you to ask them. But don’t get angry until you’ve found out why things are happening.” His gaze hardened. “If you won’t trust me, we shouldn’t be here. I’m giving you quite a bit of latitude because we’re here so you can learn and explore, but if you can’t…”

  His voice trailed off, and he looked away. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.

  “Remember that I promised to take care of you.”

  He told her to repeat the rules of the club to him, and when she rolled her eyes, he pinched her leg as a warning.

  “Are you trying to earn a spanking?” he asked gravely.

  She shook her head firmly, and he narrowed his eyes.

  Crap. Another rule. If she didn’t learn to respond to him verbally, and soon, he was going to need to reinforce the lesson, and that wasn’t something she wanted him to do, especially not in the middle of the club. Reluctantly she began to recite the instructions he’d given her; while she did, he let his hands roam over her skin. He stayed away from anything covered by her clothing, but she still squirmed in his lap as his touch aroused her.