by Diane Leyne
She took a deep breath and looked at Dace, half hoping and half fearing he’d ask for more information.
“What aren’t you telling us?”
“Something pretty bad went down on my last assignment. I can’t talk about the details, and I’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing. In fact, I got a commendation. The official report is that I did the only thing possible and it wasn’t my fault everything went south, but I still felt like shit over what went down. People died. Good people.” Nick felt her voice almost crack and took a deep breath and a sip of water before continuing.
“And yes, I’ve been to the mandatory counseling and I know intellectually that it wasn’t my fault, but I’m tired of talking about it. They say I need time to process it before I can even think about going back into the field again. Fine, but I can’t sit at home or I’ll just brood on this. When Quin called me, your problem sounded like just what I need to take my mind off things. We’re talking about a series of dirty tricks—slashed tired, graffiti, hate mail. There are no spies or drug cartels or rapists or anything like that. It’s a small town matter that’s not life or death. No offense, and I’m not trying to minimize your problems. I know that if this place, either the bar or the BDSM club, is at the center of things and people realize it before we can find the perpetrator, then you could lose your business, but hell, this is just what I need and I’m just what you need. It’s a win-win situation for all of us.”
She watched as Dace and Micah laughed, and she felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders as she realized that they hadn’t taken offense.
“No worries. If Quin and Tait are willing to vouch for you, then I’m happy to have your help. Dace?”
“God knows I’m not making any progress. I don’t have enough time to devote to this unofficially, and I can’t make the investigation official without the risk of information being leaked. One or two of my deputies would love to have things blow up around the club and get it shut down. They’d like to see me lose my job in the upcoming election, too. Maybe that’s part of things, maybe it isn’t. Maybe things aren’t related, and hell, and I’m just a paranoid bastard seeing patterns that aren’t there, but I’d feel a lot better if the situation could be looked into properly and by a fellow professional.”
She watched as he ran a hand through his hair and left some of it sticking up in spots. She had a sudden urge to smooth it down, which she ruthlessly suppressed. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, deliberately casual, and looked over to Micah.
“I know from Quin the original plan was for me to work here, either at the bar or the club or both, but I realize now that that was when you thought I was a guy. Any objections to me being female?”
“Not a one, in theory, but it does impact your cover story. The thing is, if you’d been a man, we had expected you to tend bar and split your time between the saloon and the club and that, in the club,
you’d pretend to be a Dom.”
“I don’t see what the problem is. I can pretend to be a Dominatrix or whatever the female version is called. I am sure I can pull it off.”
* * * *
Micah watched as her body language changed subtly, and she leaned back and placed two booted feet on Micah’s desk, one over the other. “Don’t doubt my acting and undercover skills.”
He saw her make a few subtle changes and her whole demeanor was transformed. He couldn’t have even said what she did differently except the boots on the desk thing, but suddenly, she was projecting a whole different vibe and he had an urge to fall to his knees at her feet. He was impressed, but Nicola as a Domme wasn’t going to be the answer, and not just because he himself was a Dom.
“Domme is actually the preferred term, and I am sure you would make a convincing Domme. However, there’s a problem if you want to be a Domme. You are going to be expected to either have your own sub or play with the unattached subs at the club occasionally. It would be expected if you were male, too, so before you ask, I’d be asking the same question. Can you handle it? How much do you know about BDSM?”
“Not enough, clearly. Can you define playing? I’ve done a bit of reading, but I know there’s a wide spectrum and no one definitive answer to the question. What does it mean here?”
“Playing means whatever you need it to mean, but as a presumably experienced Domme, you would have to take charge. Sex wouldn’t be required, but it is often part of play. You’d certainly be expected to dominate your sub, taking control of their body.” Micah paused, waiting for a question, but when none was forthcoming, he continued, “If you were playing with a new sub, you’d be expected to negotiate the scene parameters, but depending on the sub you were playing with, you’d likely be expected to inflict some level of pain. With others, it would be a demonstration of control or even humiliation. Likely there would be some combination of the three. You’d be in charge of their body, their pain, and their pleasure, and to demonstrate your control over them, they’d only be allowed to orgasm with your permission. Can you do that?”
* * * *
Dace smiled at the expression on her face as she processed this information.
“We have another problem if you want to pose as a Domme,” Dace added. “The club has very few unattached subs looking for a Domme. Micah?”
“Yeah, that’s a problem. In fact, I can only think of one possibility. Mona is bi, so she’d be open to a Domme, but she’d be your only option. She’s a huge pain slut, and that’s not an insult or a value judgment, just a fact. She’d expect to be whipped, so I don’t know if she’d be a viable option for you, regardless of your gender preference.”
Dace looked at Nick. He’d assumed she was straight, but then again, he could be seeing her through his own bias.
“I don’t think Mona’s going to work. I am straight, but that’s not the problem. There’s no way I could whip anyone, male or female. Are you sure I couldn’t just work in the club as staff?”
Dace fought to keep the grin off his face. Good. She was straight. He’d hoped, and now he knew for sure.
“Nope. Sorry, Nicola. It would work for the bar, but not the club. All the staff there are either Doms or subs. That’s one of the rules. Someone vanilla working in the club would cause folks to be self-conscious. All the staff play when they are off-duty. Hell, it’s considered one of the best perks of working at the club,” Micah explained. “Some even play while they are working, but doing some teaching or supervising.”
“Vanilla?” Her tone was wry.
“Non-kinky,” Dace answered.
“We are open to all orientations when it comes to Doms, Dommes, and subs,” Micah elaborated, “but like with any club, like-minded people tend to congregate together. The majority of our Doms are male and either straight or bi, and the majority of our subs are female and straight.”
Dace wanted to laugh at the puzzled expression on her face.
“If most of the Doms are male and some are bi and almost all the subs are female, who are they bi with?”
This time Dace did laugh out loud before answering.
“Each other. We have a lot of ménage relationships here, some permanent and some just for play. Sometimes the two male Doms focus solely on the sub, and sometimes they also focus on each other. In that case, one of the Doms is more properly called a Switch and generally submits to the other Dom while the sub submits to both of them. But like Micah mentioned earlier, there’s no one right way. Everyone has to figure out what works for them.”
“Damn. I think my head may explode. I don’t suppose you have a pamphlet or a book or something. You know, BDSM for Dummies?” She flashed a quick smile, and it was a beautiful thing and too brief. She was much too serious, and now that they were in the brightly lit office, Dace could see the sadness in her eyes that she’d hidden earlier when she was pretending to be what she thought a tough Domme looked and acted like.
“Not to worry. Micah and I can teach you everything you need to know. The thing is, there’s only one alternative if
you can’t pose as a Domme…”
“And that means posing as a sub.” Her tone was flat, and he could see the wariness come back in her eyes. “But he said earlier that if I was a Domme, I’d be expected to play with the subs. Doesn’t that mean if I pose as a sub, I’ll be expected to play with the various Doms in the club?”
“Not if you pose as our sub.”
* * * *
Micah wanted to laugh as both heads swiveled toward him.
“Think about it. It’s the perfect solution. You wear our collar so none of the other Doms will get grabby with you. Our property rights will be respected.” He wanted to laugh again at the look of outrage that flashed briefly on her face before she schooled her features back to neutrality. “It will also give you the perfect excuse for spending time alone with either or both of us. We can say you are just a beginner, so the majority of our play will be in private. No one will know what we are or are not doing with you.”
“Majority?” Nicola’s gaze showed her suspicion.
“We have to play a bit in public to give credibility to our claim that you are ours. You’ll wear our collar and behave like a sub in our presence. We’ll play a bit in public, but mostly just some control and impact play. You’ll also have to behave like our sub, calling us Sir, and, well, we’ll spend some time teaching you what would be expected. Luckily, both of us have a reputation for keeping sex mostly private, so no one will be surprised when you disappear into one of the private rooms with us.”
“That would work,” agreed Dace.
“Both of you?”
“That’s the only way. Doms either share or they don’t. We don’t always share for an individual scene, but in a relationship…To make it look authentic, we have to start out at the beginning in a ménage. If it looks like Dace is just joining us as a third occasionally, other Doms may want to have a turn as our third. Also, since you’ll need to be alone with either of us at different times, this is the perfect solution.
“Not to worry, though. We don’t play all the time. We both work, a lot. The club is short one waitress. Cara broke her leg and she’ll be off for at least a month, so bringing in a temporary replacement makes perfect sense, and if that temp is our new sub…it’s the perfect cover. Cara used to split her time between the saloon and the club. You can do that, too. When you are working in the club, you’ll still be a sub, but you’ll be a bit freer to interact with the members. In the saloon, you’ll be free to talk to any and every one.”
“Thank goodness for that,” she responded wryly.
“And in the club, we’ll save the sex for private, saying you aren’t ready for a public session. When the case is closed, we can just say that things didn’t work out and you moved on. The only one who would know that we were talking and not fucking would be Tanner, who mans the monitors, and we can figure something out with him. He’s trustworthy. He could make a lot of money leaking what he sees every night, but he’s always been nothing but discreet.”
He watched Nick closely. She was a professional. He could see that she was hiding her discomfort at his blunt words, but she’d have to deal with a hell of a lot more than that if she was going to go undercover as a waitress in the club.
“Look, Nick. If just talking about this makes you uncomfortable, how are you going to be able to handle the club where people are actually having sex in public? And you would have to be naked or mostly naked in front of other members. It’s part of being a sub. Could you deal with that? If it’s going to be a problem, tell me now and we’ll figure something else out. Maybe there’s someone else at SSP who can help.”
He watched as she licked her lips. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her that he’d look after her and make sure she felt comfortable and secure, but he had to remind himself she wasn’t really going to be his sub. Besides, there would be times she’d be in the club without him if she was taking one of the waitressing shifts there, and she’d have to be able to function.
She looked up and met his eyes. He saw strength and the vulnerability that she was trying to hide. Damn. Whatever had happened on her last assignment had really caused her confidence to take a hit. He hoped one day she would be able to tell him and he could help her shoulder the load. Hell, if she really was his sub, he’d order her to tell him and let him help with the burden, but for now, he had to respect her boundaries.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“What’s that?”
“Take me to the club. As your sub. Now.”
Chapter Four
Micah felt his jaw drop, literally. She wanted to visit the club. Now. As his sub. He looked over at Dace, who looked equally stunned, but his expression quickly changed to a huge grin and Micah felt an answering grin spread across his face.
Standing, he walked around the desk and perched on the side. Dace stood and moved the chair he’d been sitting on out of the way, and the two then stood shoulder to shoulder, staring down at their seated undercover agent.
Neither said anything as they studied her. Micah was amused to watch her color rise, as she struggled to keep her expression calm. He watched her take a deep breath and liked the way her breasts pushed against her tight tank top, but she wasn’t dressed at all sub-like in all that leather.
“What do you think, Dace?”
“I think it’s a great idea, but she doesn’t look or act like a sub, not in the slightest.”
“But aren’t I supposed to be a newbie that you are thinking of, er, teaching?”
“Training,” Micah corrected automatically, “but even a newbie would have a certain basic knowledge in order to decide to want to serve two Masters. And the two of us are known for having high standards when we are with a sub in public. And in private. But that’s not an issue right now. Any sub we are with has to know the protocols and how to behave at a club or people will be suspicious.”
“Firstly, your clothes are all wrong. Subs go barefoot, and only Doms and Dommes wear leather.” Dace turned to Micah and grinned wickedly. “Except for their collar and cuffs. Those are generally leather.”
“Absolutely,” Micah agreed. “In fact, some go completely naked, other than their collar and cuffs, of course.”
He saw Nicola looking from him to Dace, her neutral expression replaced by one of a combination of both fear and desire as her guard dropped, and he realized that she might, just might, be a little bit turned on by the thought, and maybe shocked by the fact.
Micah couldn’t help it. He burst into laughter at her expression.
“Still think you can pull it off?”
“Piece of cake!” she declared. The mask had snapped back into place, but he’d seen the vulnerability and now he wasn’t sure what he wanted more—to cuddle her close and reassure her they’d look after her, or to spank her ass and then cuddle her close and reassure her they’d look after her.
“I don’t know, Micah,” Dace interjected. “She’s used to being in charge. I don’t know if she can effectively portray a sub, or at least not one up to our usual standards. We’re known for being strict. If she is sloppy, it would reflect badly on us and we’d have to punish her, and that would have to take place in public.”
“I can take anything you two can dish out! And it’s not like I’m completely ignorant on the subject.” She looked from one to the other, and her eyes narrowed as if she knew they were deliberately pushing her buttons. “Or are you playing with me? Trying to get a rise or maybe scare me off? I tried to get information out of Quin on the club, but he said I’d have to find out for myself.”
“Yes and no, regarding playing with you,” Micah confessed. “The waitstaff wears clothes—skimpy clothes, but clothes. It’s common for certain Masters to have their subs go naked in the club, but most are allowed to wear at least something unless they are actually in a scene. It’s common to see subs in thongs and bare-breasted if not actually naked. We weren’t making that up. For a tour and introduction, you’ll get to wear some coverings, but not wh
at you have on. Do you have panties or a thong on under that?”
“A thong, but I’m not going out there in just that!”
“Dace, definitely not sub-like behavior. A sub would say yes, Sir.” He turned to Nick. “No, I don’t expect you to go with just a thong. You can wear that tank, too. But,” he added just as she was starting to look relieved, “you’ll have to lose the bra. You’ll be away from the main action, and other than us, there won’t be many who can see you, but if you can’t manage to even walk through the club like that…” He felt a sudden sharp surge of…something that he didn’t want to analyze. He wanted to parade her through the club as his sub. He suddenly wanted that very, very much. Too much. This isn’t going to work. Call Quin. Maybe there’s someone else.” He hated to say the words. He wanted to get to know Nick Marlow better, but right now, the case had to come first.
“Dammit. Normally I have a chance to prepare, do a little research in order to get into character. Once I’m there, I don’t leave until the assignment is over. Give me a little time and a chance to read up, and I’ll be the quickest learning sub you’ve ever, er, trained. As for visiting the club now…” He watched as she took a deep breath, and he saw a subtle shift in her expression. Then she stood up and shrugged out of her jacket.
“So you are going to do it?”
“If I don’t visit the club, I can’t give you an answer about working on your case. So, I’m going to visit the club. I know I’m supposed to be a newbie, but as you said earlier, I should have at least the minimum amount of experience and knowledge about the kink scene, even if I was only going in as a waitress.” She let out a breath. “And you are sure that I can’t go in just as a waitress?”
