by Poppy Flynn
Melody shook her head in reaction to her own silent thoughts, but the notion remained; how sad was it that after having been intimate with eight men, she still didn't know that feeling. Didn't know what pleasure there was to be had at the hands of a man who put his woman first. And damn it all, she wanted that! Because she refused to let that brute, V, still hold any kind of power over her, either physically or mentally. Sure, there might be people who viewed her as damaged and fragile because of what she had gone through. But they'd be wrong. She was strong. It had taken strength and a clear mind to choose to live with a man old enough to be her grandfather and share her body with him. And it had taken even more to refuse to allow the brute to grind her down. It wasn't that he hadn't tried, and it wasn't that he hadn't succeeded to a certain extent. But deep inside, in a quiet, private place within the deepest fathoms of her mind, she had harboured the dream that one day things would be better, and now that they were, there was no way Melody was going to allow that brute to sabotage her life from afar. She had already lived through hell and managed to come back from it. Now she planned to find a little slice of heaven. On her own terms.
And what better place to find it than here, in this place, where the pleasures of the body were respected and embraced, cherished.
All she had ever known in her life was mundane, at best, or force, at the worst. She wanted to replace those memories with something good. Maybe, if she was lucky, something great. Was that really so bad?
It seemed to take forever for Laurel to be ready, but Melody knew it was just her own impatience.
"Okay, let's do this!" Laurel came sweeping out of a cubicle, then sashayed straight out through the doors to the nightclub, speaking as if Melody hadn't been standing there waiting for her for the past five minutes, and leaving her trotting to catch up. When she turned to check on her, Laurel yelled through the noise and the crowd, "Stay with me, hon. It can get a bit manic down here!"
A wall of sound was the first thing to hit Melody as she followed Laurel into the shadowy, cavernous hall, pierced with blinding shards of rainbow colours and spotlighted showstoppers. It engulfed her like a wave, bringing with it a heavy heat and the cloying combined odours of musk, perspiration, and perfume.
The dance floor was an undulating mass of bodies which seemed to move as a singular, surging groundswell in a ritual as age old as sex itself. And above their heads, were the famed, unique display platforms the club was famous for. They hung suspended, each inside its own little bubble of light, the sounds from each one broadcasting slightly above the noise of the crowd and the thump of the music, providing a stimulating soundtrack of sexy sighs and groans to backdrop the incredible scenes taking place atop them.
Melody stopped in her tracks, mesmerised by the assorted displays of kink taking place above her head, momentarily forgetting all about Laurel, who continued toward the bar. From the incredible athletics of professional pole dancing to two or three-person scenes featuring straightforward D/s, to MMF, to same sex combinations, any blend you could possibly think of was taking part in every conceivable activity, flogging, fellatio, bondage, role play. There were crops and paddles and handcuffs and rope and spreader bars. A veritable smorgasbord of idiosyncratic kink and shamelessly unorthodox debauchery to titillate even the most critical or enthusiastic of voyeurs.
Melody's eyes were as wide as saucers as she struggled to take it all in. There was so much going on, too many things to see. Where did she look first? And where had Laurel gone? Melody had promised Trinity, faithfully, that if she was allowed into the club, she would remain with her chaperone at all times. But there were so many people, hundreds of bodies, pressing and flowing, thronging and clustering, that Melody couldn't see the other girl anywhere. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, and suddenly, Melody was overwhelmed with the need to find a familiar face in this seething mass of strangers. Damn! She should never have allowed herself to become so distracted.
The back of her neck prickled as if someone was staring, but then everyone in this place was ogling one thing or another, watching, assessing, considering. It was the very nature of the environment. Still, she was suddenly uneasy and eager to locate her friend.
As she pushed her way toward the bar, Melody still couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Not just the casual glance, or the sensual consideration, or the frank approval, this felt like something more sinister—calculated scrutiny, an ominous deliberation.
Jesus, was she paranoid or what? Was her mind actually as fragile and damaged as Micah had feared and she had denied? Was she jumping at shadows now?
She felt the crush of bodies pushing her anxiety toward a stifling sensation of claustrophobia and moved to one side, away from the worst of the crowd, and hugged the wall, fighting to maintain her equilibrium and push down the menacing sense of dread which had her spooked. As she took a couple of deep breaths, she gave herself a stern talking to. This was ridiculous! There was no one here who could possibly know her, because she hadn't been in an environment conducive to promoting friendships or even acquaintances.
That's what the problem was, she told herself sternly. She had been cloistered and confined without the opportunity of meeting people, let alone being in places where there were any more than half a dozen people at a time, not even a supermarket. She was simply overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people in a relatively confined area and the shock of noise that inundated her sheltered senses. She was unused to all of this, that was all, so it unnerved her.
Still searching out Laurel, she felt slightly safer as she hugged the wall, protected on one side at least. She had almost reached the area where she had last seen her friend heading, when some kind of sixth sense had a harsh shudder quaking down her back so powerful that it had her spinning around to check behind her. She let out an involuntary shriek and reflexively jumped away from the outstretched arm that was poised to grab hold of her. The yelp caused a couple of people close by to turn around, maybe in the expectation of finding another scene being played out close by. Whatever the reason, it was enough to make her would-be assailant pause. Melody stumbled backward, flustered and lost, her heart pounding from the fear and the knowledge that someone had been about to seize her.
Dear God! She surely must be wrong! She carried on backing up regardless, her hand on the wall to steady herself, but as her eyes raised to seek out the guy, so she could keep her eyes on him and his movements, she realised with a crushing apprehension that her initial suspicions had been right. Alarm bells started going off in her head almost before her brain managed to comprehend what she was seeing; there was a deafening roar of white noise in her ears which drowned out everything around her and screamed at her to run.
Sheer panic besieged her senses. Her fight or flight reaction kicked in and everything around her sharpened. She knew the layout of this club intimately from the time she had spent cleaning up when the place was empty. The obscure entrance to the restricted upper tier was behind her and to the left. There was thumb print technology which Micah had scanned her into so she could move about easily to clear up after club nights; all she had to do was get over there and through the doors, and this creep would not be able to follow. If he did, there were dungeon monitors who could help her.
Hardly daring to take her eyes off of her pursuer, Melody flicked her gaze hastily across the room to judge the exact trajectory and the density of the crowd, then, without giving herself away, she whirled around and flew across the room, oblivious to anyone and anything except her desperate objective of escaping behind the safety of the electronic security doors.
Drinks spilled, and people cursed. Someone tried to grab her arm, but panic made her strong and she shook them off. Most jumped to get out of her way as she barged past, skidding to a halt, her arm already outstretched to make immediate contact with the thumb plate.
She looked behind her as she waited frantically for the mechanism to disengage. Melody found her eyes drawn, as if by some terrifyin
g magnetism, toward a squat, heavy set body with a square face, unkempt, lanky hair and a dense moustache. Mean black eyes full of malevolence bored into her as he made his way unerringly across the floor in her wake. Melody's eyes widened as he drew inexorably closer and her whole body trembled with fear as she listened for the tell-tale clunk of the locks releasing.
The moment she felt them give way, she leaned her entire body into the door to open it, slipping through as soon as the gap was wide enough for her to squeeze through the skinny frame she had never been more grateful for. The second she had cleared the other side, she swung around and pressed the entire strength of her being into closing the breach so that the automatic locks would kick back into place.
Because she did recognise the nasty, greasy looking man in front of her after all! He was one of V's cronies, one of the beasts he had invited to torment and brutalise her, one of the six. And there was absolutely no doubt that his intention was to return her to her captor.
Chapter 11
His fingers slipped through the diminishing gap in the door and Melody knew he would prove stronger than she, but she had terror fuelled adrenaline on her side. Instinctively, she moved back for an instant then launched her full weight back at the door, trapping the fingers between the door and the frame so that her stalker reflexively pulled them away from being crushed with an angry curse. As soon as the obstruction was cleared, the door clicked shut and the automatic locks clunked into place.
Melody had never heard such a wonderful sound. Nevertheless, she didn't wait around. Still fuelled by the fear that another member might open the door and inadvertently let him through, she dashed down the corridor which led to a second security door. Pin code this time, a back-up in case an electrical fault prevented the previous door from locking, Micah had told her.
It took her two attempts to input the correct digits, she was shaking so badly, and the longer it took, the more and more panicked she became until she was crying and sobbing, desperate to get to a place of safety and biting her lip against the irrational urge to smash at the door and the control panel with her fist, in her frenzy.
Finally, it gave and Melody yanked at the handle, sprinting through without waiting, this time, to find out if it closed properly behind her.
Thankfully, she didn't have to run past the dungeon and the playrooms in the state she was in, just scan herself through into the sanctuary of the private staff area of the building.
She tumbled through the final door and leaned back against it once the locks engaged, her chest heaving and her eyes wild.
While she looked around her at the quiet, bland safety of the familiar surroundings, Melody felt the weight of her fear and the terrifying reality of the incident crash in around her. Her legs were shaking so badly, she could no longer stand up, and the adrenaline, which had driven her, finally flipped over now she was safe, and she crumbled into an ungainly heap, noisy, body juddering sobs wracking her slight frame as she finally succumbed to the residual terror.
It was Trinity who found her first, not that she was in any fit state to make the acknowledgment.
"Oh shit!" She heard the other woman's voice as if from a distance and was only vaguely aware of her calling to someone else through the static of the staff radios.
Warm hands tried to stroke and comfort her, crooning noises which made no sense but which her mind interpreted as soothing, pinged against the cotton wool that was clouding her brain.
She finally became aware of her name being called over and over, but she didn't know how long it had been going on. The was a knocking, too…or rather more of a hammering, now that her mind finally focused on it.
"Melody, we need to get you moved. You're blocking the doorway," Trinity urged.
Even with Trinity's help, she couldn't manage anything more than an ungainly shuffle across the floor until she'd moved just far enough to clear the opening.
Micah burst through as soon as Trinity gave him the go ahead. He took one look at Melody and leaned down to scoop her up, as if she weighed no more than a feather.
Guthrie pulled up his collar and ducked his head as he hurried out of the club, aware that there were security cameras on the doors. He buried his bruised fingers inside the pockets of his jacket and cursed under his breath, checking all around him as he made his way to his car to ensure no one was following.
What the fuck was V's whore doing in this place? There was no doubt that it was her. No two bitches had hair that white or that long; he was bloody certain. And the cunt had recognised him, too!
V hadn't said anything about letting his fuck toy go free, and Guthrie wasn't fool enough to think that the bitch had a choice in the matter, but the bastard had cancelled their last gang bang session. They'd all thought he'd probably just beaten her too hard, not that that usually made any difference, except for that time when her cunt had bled like a stuck pig, but even that didn't turn some of the fuckers off.
And now she was here, all tarted up and with access to the private upstairs dungeon which he had been refused membership for. Not that he could afford their extortionate fees, of course, so how had she managed to get membership? Maybe V had sold her on or something.
One thing was for sure, Guthrie had every intention of finding out what the hell the deal was, 'cos that bitch posed too much of a danger to all of them if she was running around loose, since she'd be able to identify every one of them. And he liked his freedom far too much to allow it to be compromised.
Micah strode purposefully toward the staff lounge, then cursed under his breath when he realised it was in use. Changing direction without so much as a break in his stride, he altered his course and headed for his private office instead.
"Go and find a blanket," he demanded of Trinity, who was trotting along behind him, wringing her hands in distress. She had a decidedly guilty look on her face, he observed. Obviously, Trinity knew a damn sight more than he did with regard to why Melody was dressed in what could easily pass as fetish wear and appeared to have been out in the club, but he'd deal with that later. Right now, he was more concerned about Melody. She clung to him as if her life depended on it, her nails digging into the flesh where she gripped handfuls of his shirt and skin alike. She was shaking like a leaf and more tears than he'd ever seen her shed streamed down her cheeks in a torrent of near hysterical distress.
Shouldering the door, he pushed through and didn't stop until he eased himself down on the deep, comfortable couch in the corner of the room and settled Melody more comfortably onto his knee, snuggling her to his broad chest and holding her tight. For long moments, he said nothing at all, just held her so that she could calm down, while he got his own anger under control. That would serve neither of them right now.
Trinity came scurrying into the room with the subbie blanket he'd asked for, and he took it from her and tucked it around Melody's trembling frame.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry!" Trinity lamented, her own voice none too steady. "I honestly didn't think she'd react this badly. I even made her wait a week in case she changed her mind. More than a week, in fact. But she seemed so together, and she was so excited about it that I never imagined… And I insisted on a chaperone, which, of course, she had to have anyway, but…"
Micah held up a hand to halt the uncharacteristic jumble of half formed sentences that were tumbling from his assistant manager's mouth.
"She was down in the club, yes?" he asked succinctly.
"Yes, we had a discussion about it last—"
Micah cut her off. "Was somebody with her?"
"Yes, of course, there was, I would never have let her—"
"Trinity! Calm down and give me the facts," Micah demanded. "Who was with her?"
"Laurel, she took Melody as her guest and…sorry," she conceded as he threw her a quelling look.
"Do you know what happened?"
"No, I went to investigate because I heard sobbing in the corridor, and I found her on the floor in pretty much the same shape as when you got
there."
"Okay, go find Laurel. See if she can shed any light on the matter and check if Xavier is in tonight. You don't need to approach him, just confirm in case we need him, then cover my shift on the dungeon floor. I'll deal with Melody."
"I really am sorry, Micah," Trinity whispered in clear agitation.
Micah shook his head. "Leave it, Trinity. There's no point in recriminations. We don't even know what the problem is yet, so let's just concentrate on Melody right now. We can talk later about the rest of it."
Trinity nodded tensely and turned to leave.
"Perhaps you could flip the lock," Micah requested as she reached the door. "So I can make sure she gets some peace and privacy. I don't want a bunch of people rushing in here to check on her right now. I'll call if I need anything."
Then, finally, they were alone, and Melody quieted. A peaceful sense of stillness and safekeeping rolled gently through the room, settling like a deep mist and enveloping them both in a hushed sphere of security in the balm of each other's arms.
Enough time passed that Micah could almost have been fooled into thinking Melody was asleep. She was quiet as a mouse, her breathing had evened out, and her quaking body had stilled. It was only her hands that gave her away, clenched as they still were in the fabric of his shirt along with a generous measure of chest hair.
He felt like things were settled enough to move forward, so he started by loosening her stiff fingers and holding them in his own.
"Are you feeling better now?" he asked quietly.
Melody just nodded.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
She was silent for so long that Micah decided to help her along with some prompts. "Okay, so you wanted to go and check out the club. Is that right?"
Another nod.
"And you discussed it with Trinity, and Laurel offered to take you as a guest on her membership?"
