by Sophie Stern
“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Mr. Potter says. His wife squeezes his hand and smiles at him. Then she turns to me.
“Gerald is right. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“It was my pleasure,” I tell them honestly. My paralegal knocks on the door to see if everything is wrapping up, and I nod to her.
“If you’ll come with me,” she tells them. “We’ll get you finished up out front. I’ll make sure you get a copy of each form and we’ll get your account settled.”
“Of course,” Mr. Potter says. He reaches for his cane, but Mrs. Potter is one step ahead of him. She has his cane ready and she helps him to his feet. Then she gives him the cane, wraps her arm around him, and they leave the room together.
They’re sweet.
There’s no other word to describe them as a couple.
Together, they complement each other perfectly. They’re both old and frail, but they’re happy together. They’re happy just being together. They’re happy just spending time together.
And I want that.
I crave it.
Maybe Anthony was right when he took me to Anchored. Maybe I should find a girl who shares the same interests as me. Yeah, there are a ton of single people at the club, but there are also a lot of couples. There are plenty of people who share the same interest in BDSM and who are able to make marriages and long-term relationships work for them.
Enjoying Domination doesn’t make me a freak.
It doesn’t make me a bad person.
It doesn’t make me a monster.
It’s just part of who I am, of what’s important to me. I learned long ago that I enjoyed dominating women. I learned a long time ago that I crave control in the bedroom, that to me, being in charge is what gets me off.
And I’ve shied away from relationships for a long time.
Maybe it’s time to stop.
Mr. and Mrs. Potter are one of the cutest couples I’ve ever seen. They’re old and adorable and completely content with each other. It might be selfish, but I want that. I want what they have. I want someone who looks at me with love, who looks at me like I’m the most important man in the world. I want someone who looks at me like they’re going to die without me.
I want someone who looks at me like I make their world whole, like I’m the only thing that matters to them.
As soon as Joselyn is out of the room with the Potters, I head two doors down and walk into Anthony’s office without knocking.
“That’s right,” he’s saying to someone on the phone. He flips me off, but continues the conversation. I close the door quietly and sit down in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.
Each attorney in our office has a different specialty. We each have our own interests and preferences when it comes to the clients we see, and I think our offices reflect that. Edgar & Bernstein is a full-service law firm, which means we have attorneys that can handle anything. While I primarily deal with real estate law, Anthony does divorces.
Personally, I don’t know how he does it.
I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near a feuding couple when they’re dealing with the biggest decision of their life, but he takes it in stride. He’s has some big wins and his office shows that. His furniture is dark, sleek. It’s sexy, if furniture could ever be called sexy. Everything is black leather or dark burgundy.
If I was a young, female submissive walking in here, I’d be fucking scared as hell, but Anthony likes that.
Finally, his call ends, and he hangs up the phone.
“What?” He asks.
“Anthony,” I say. “We have a situation.”
“Tony,” he says, pointing at the name plate on his desk. “I go by Tony now. Why do you still call me Anthony?”
He started going by Tony after graduation because he thinks it sounds more intimidating and badass than Anthony. Honestly, I still call my friend by his full name because it pisses him off, but his mother loves it. It scores me brownie points all around, and Anthony’s mom makes a mean chocolate cheesecake.
“Because you hate it.”
“Fine. What’s the problem?” He sighs, resigned to his fate.
“I want to go back.”
“To Anchored?” Now Anthony smiles. He looks like I just promised him a puppy.
“Yeah.”
“What changed your mind?” He’s already on his computer, typing away, and I know he’s emailing the owner to get me an interview. Anthony has already walked me through the process of becoming a full member and I’m not scared of the cost or commitment required.
“I’m ready,” I tell him. “I’m ready to find someone. It’s been a long time. I’ve been single for awhile and I don’t see any reason to keep waiting. There’s never going to be a perfect time to get involved in a relationship. There’s never going to be a perfect woman or a perfect situation. Life happens whether I’m ready or not and right now, I feel ready.”
“Good,” Anthony looks up at me and smiles. “You can go to the clinic tomorrow on your lunch break and your psychological assessment is scheduled for Thursday. If your psych eval looks good, you should be able to come with me on Saturday.”
“Doesn’t it take awhile to get the test results back? From the doctor’s office, I mean.”
“Seven to ten days,” he says. “You won’t be able to get physical with anyone on Saturday, but you’ll still be able to come watch.”
“That’s allowed? Seems like something the club would be pretty strict on.”
“I’m very close with the owner.”
“Who’s the owner?” I ask, suspiciously. Anthony has mentioned their friendship a few times, but I’ve never met the guy.
“The owner is very private,” Anthony says, his face suddenly going blank. It’s his lawyer face: the one he usually reserves for clients. I’m a bit surprised to see that look right now during what was a friendly conversation, but I know Anthony well enough to know he means business. He’s not going to talk about the owner anymore.
“Well, thank you for helping me get my foot in the door. I appreciate it. I know these places usually have a long waiting list and a vetting process that can be a nightmare.”
“I would do anything for you, Zack.”
“I know, and I feel the same way about you, Tony.”
He’s surprised to see me use his nickname, but he smiles.
“I have a client meeting in five,” he tells me. “But let’s have dinner before we go to the club on Saturday.”
“It’s a date.”
Chapter 5
Christina
By the time I drop Bennett off at Susan’s house, fix my hair and makeup, and get to Anchored, it’s already after ten. The club opens at nine and the fun is in full swing before midnight. Most of the players at Anchored have full-time jobes and families, so they want to make the most of their playtime at the club. It’s not like a lot of dance clubs where showing up before midnight is a no-go.
Anchored is different, and it’s one of the reasons I love this club.
I park in the parking lot and adjust my hair in the mirror one last time. I’ll go to the locker room to change, but I want to make sure I look good before I head inside. I don’t have a set Dom or Domme to play with tonight. In fact, I’m not even sure if I want to play tonight, but I do know that I want to look good.
I want to look my best.
The club itself is inside a remodeled mini-cruise ship. The lights shine and sparkle on the outside and Anchored is painted on the side of the ship. There’s no noise, though, no sound. The entire ship has been soundproofed and no one plays on the outer decks. All the club stuff is kept inside. It’s one way to ensure the club stays open and, most importantly, private.
If I was just driving by, I would think this was either a legitimate cruise ship or perhaps a little restaurant. There’s no large sign hanging outside to indicate this is anything other than a private boat, however, and that keeps roaming eyes away.
E
ven in the rare instance that someone might wander up to the door, no one can get inside without a keycard. I swipe mine to let me in the building and then go up to the receptionist to check in. Then it’s time to head to the locker rooms, drop my things off, and get ready for the night.
When I arrive in the women’s locker room, Odessa is there talking with Mistress D. They’re deep in conversation when I walk in, but they both look up when they see me.
“Christina,” Odessa walks over and wraps her arms around me. “How are you doing tonight, sweetie?”
“I’m fine, hon,” I hug her back, but there’s something about Odessa that’s a little bit off. She looks like something is wrong. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she says. “But,” she glances over her shoulder at Mistress D, whose face is unreadable. “I’ll be right outside if you need me, okay?”
“Um, okay.” Odessa leaves the locker room quickly, which is strange. Usually, the two of us linger and get ready together. I turn back to Mistress D. In the locker room, we’re all equals. There’s no protocol or kneeling or submitting in here. In here, we’re just normal people getting ready for a night of fun, but still, the way she’s looking at me makes me uncomfortable.
“Christina,” she says. “I think we need to talk.”
I nod, dropping my things on a bench. I’ll put them in a locker after our conversation, which I think is going to be awful. I don’t know what she’s going to say, but it’s going to be hard to hear. Slowly, I make my way to Mistress D and sit down beside her.
“What’s wrong?” I ask quietly.
“Our scene last week was wonderful,” she says.
“I enjoyed it, too.”
“But you didn’t let me give you aftercare.”
I sigh. We’ve been over this before. I don’t do aftercare because I don’t do relationships. I’m not interested in getting involved with someone, so I’m not interested in getting their hopes up. Aftercare, to me, represents an exchange of emotions.
“I don’t do aftercare.”
“It’s a problem for me.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I can’t get on stage and play with a submissive, bring her to the edge, and then leave her alone, honey. I can’t do it. It goes against everything I believe as a Dominatrix. I love playing with you Christina, but until you’re ready to accept aftercare, I won’t play with you at the club again.”
Tears sting my face as I realize what she’s saying. I understand where she’s coming from. Hell, she might be right, for all I know, but I’m not ready to admit that she’s right. I’m not ready to admit that I might need more than I’m getting. I’m not ready to admit that part of the job of the Dominant partner is to provide the emotional support that a submissive needs after a scene.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m sorry I can’t be what you need.”
She takes my hands and looks at me with admiration, with kindness, with pity.
“You’ve been through a lot in the last few years, doll. I don’t pretend to know what you’ve been through or what you’re going through. I don’t pretend to understand what it’s like to lose a partner. I haven’t been through what you have, so maybe I’m being selfish, but I can’t keep doing this. Letting you walk away after a scene breaks my heart. It crushes me every fucking time and I can’t keep doing it. I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“I understand,” I say, even though I’m filled with embarrassment and humiliation at being called out.
“This won’t affect anything at work,” Mistress D assures me, which is good because I have to see her every day.
“I know,” I tell her honestly. “Don’t worry. I’ll be professional, too. You don’t have to worry about me getting weird or bitchy next week.”
Then Mistress D does something I’m not expecting. She kisses me softly and gives me a long hug, wrapping me up in her arms.
“If you change your mind, I’ll be right here, doll.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Then Mistress D quietly gets up and leaves the room. She doesn’t say another word. She just goes. Then I’m alone.
And I realize, suddenly, that I’m completely alone.
I’m not going to cry.
I can’t cry.
I won’t cry over this.
“I’m stronger than this,” I whisper to myself. “I’m braver than this. I can do this.”
“Yes,” Odessa’s voice breaks into my thoughts and I look up at her. “You can do this.”
“I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m very sneaky.”
“You knew what she was going to say?”
“I had a hunch,” she tells me.
“I don’t have a Domme anymore.” We didn’t have a contract or anything. We just played together frequently. I know Mistress D plays with other subs, too, and she knows I play with other Tops, as well. Still, rejection is never easy.
“There are other Dommes,” Odessa says. “There are other Doms. There are plenty of ‘em. You know that most of them are going to ask for what she’s asking for, though. Most of them are going to want to take care of you after a scene, Christina.”
“I know,” I admit. “But I’m just not ready, Odessa. That’s something I can’t give. Not yet. I can’t get connected that way.”
Odessa picks up my things and carries them over to me.
“Well, let’s get you ready for tonight, in any case,” she says. “Because you’re beautiful, and you’re amazing, and you’re going to have a great night.”
I take a deep breath, and then I nod. I don’t know what I’d do without Odessa.
Chapter 6
Zack
“It’s busier tonight,” I say to Tony over the sound of the music.
“It’s a theme night,” he tells me. “Those usually draw in more of a crowd than regular evenings.”
“You didn’t warn me. I would have dressed up.”
“Not for us. For the subs.” He points at a couple of sexy nurses walking by, and I see what he means.
“What’s the theme?”
“Naughty professionals.”
“Is that a thing?”
He shrugs. “It is tonight.”
I sip my whiskey and take a look around. Since I haven’t been cleared to play yet, I’m drinking tonight. Tony graciously offered to drink with me, so I didn’t have to drink alone. He’s already had two different submissives come up and offer themselves to him. Yeah, I can see that my friend is pretty popular at this club.
As we drink, I see a sexy professor being led around on a leash and a slutty librarian sitting at the feet of two Doms. Everyone seems to be having a good time. Everyone seems to be in their element.
“Do you have a regular sub you like to play with?”
“Not really,” Anthony shrugs. Still, his eyes follow a slender woman as she moves across the room, and I wonder if my friend has a thing for someone who happens to be a little bit unavailable. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.
You can’t help who you fall in love with. Sometimes, you fall in love with someone you absolutely, positively have no chance with, but that doesn’t make dealing with it any easier. Sometimes, you fall in love with someone who will never notice you or love you back. It hurts, but it’s part of life, and it’s part of love, and it’s part of growing up.
“What about you?” He asks. “After all those nights at different clubs, did anyone strike your fancy?”
“No.”
“You know, Mary called me the other day.” Tony speaks casually, but his words make my blood run cold.
“Really?” I ask, trying to keep my voice cool and level. I know it’s not working. Tony raises an eyebrow, letting me know my response came out as a growl instead of as regular words.
“She asked about you.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told her to fuck off. Same thing I always say. She tried to add me on
Facebook, too. Crazy bitch,” he rolls his eyes.
“Who’s a crazy bitch?” The bartender appears on the other side of the bar and leans over, showing off her large breasts. She’s wearing a dark green corset and a thong. I don’t know whether she’s a Domme or a sub and I don’t even care. As long as she keeps leaning over like that, she can be whatever she wants.
“I’m sorry, June,” Tony says. “Did I invite you to this conversation?”
“Oh, come on,” she winks playfully. “I thought we were friends, Tony.”
“She knows your real name,” I point out. Usually Tony goes by a stage name at places like this. “That means you must be friends in real life.”
“I’m talking about his ex-wife,” Tony finally says, jerking his head toward me. She called to ask questions about him.
“That’s weird,” June says, pouring us each a second drink. “Why didn’t she just ask you herself, Tony’s friend?”
“It’s Zack,” I tell her. If Tony trusts June with his real name, then I’ll trust her, too. He’s never steered me wrong before. “And the reason she didn’t contact me is that I have her blocked on every form of social media I use, all of my work emails, and I refuse to take her calls without a third party listening in. I also record the calls.”
“Damn,” June lets out a long, low whistle. “Guess it was a nasty divorce.”
“I was his lawyer,” Tony confirms. “It was a nasty one.”
“This one’s on the house,” she pushes the drinks toward us. “Sorry about your lady troubles, but hey,” she smiles. “You’re at Anchored now! You can totally drink and then hit on sexy submissives. That’s the dream, right?”
“Are you a sub?” I ask her, but June just laughs. “A Top?” I try again.
“I’m not anything,” she tells me with a smile. “I don’t play at the club. I just work here.”
“Why don’t you play here? I’m just curious. You’re beautiful,” I tell her. “Surely you’re asked to play pretty frequently.”
