Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

  “Not knowing the area or what you have to work with and around, no I really don’t.”

  Maggie spoke without thinking. “Can you come look?” she blurted out.

  Ava laughed out loud. “Sure.”

  They made arrangements for Ava to swing by before Maggie introduced her next enquiry.

  “Do you know much about long tails, or...” she left the question hang unfinished.

  Ava cocked her head thoughtfully. “I think the long tails are user preference. I can show you what we have, but I can’t think of anyone on staff who ‘specializes’ in them.”

  Maggie nodded as Ava spoke. They moved together back into the main room, turning to the far corner from the furniture area where Maggie had first spied the red cane. The Cat-o-Nine tails were in this area as well.

  As they stood there, Maggie was startled to see the man from the previous evening. Coincidentally enough, the one who had been wielding the Cat so proficiently. Additionally fortunate, Ava seemed to know him.

  “Hey Bart. I’m glad to see you.”

  He turned squinting at Ava.

  “Ava don’t tease me love. You’d never sub to me and we both know it, so you can’t be that glad to see me.”

  Ava laughed out loud.

  “No, not that kind of glad. I’m hoping you can help me help Maggie here.”

  Bart eyed Margaret but didn’t appear to make the connection.

  “What sort of help exactly?”

  Ava beamed at the opening. Bart’s eyes never left Maggie while Ava did the talking. Maggie tried not to fidget under the man’s scrutiny.

  “Maggie here is interested in a long tail. I’m afraid I’m better with furniture than accessories. I know you are a connoisseur of sorts and could at least give her the basics if you have the time.”

  Bart raised an eyebrow as Ava spoke. Maggie raised both of hers in response but said nothing. He broke eye contact to look at Ava.

  “I can do that. Anything else?”

  Ava clapped and smiled. “Excellent! I owe you one.”

  His grin was pure menace. “I’ll remember that.”

  Ava snorted. “I’m sure you will.”

  She turned to Maggie, “Bart can help you far more than I can with this. I’ll call about the other, but I need to get back to customers who need things I know more about. You find me when you’re done here if I can help you further okay?”

  Maggie panicked but stuffed it down managing an even ‘Deal’ before Ava was off. She steeled herself to stand solo with Bart, hoping he would be able to offer advice she could use and she could be done. His first words shut the possibility down completely.

  “So Maggie,” he said quietly “no collar tonight?”

  Margaret plastered on her best showgirl smile as she turned to face him. If there had been a doubt he had seen her, it was long gone.

  “No Bart. I’m a free bitch tonight.”

  He roared. It was clearly not the response he expected. The loud laughter died into a squirreled up look as he retorted. “Ooooh, and feisty too. Tell me, does your Master know where you are?” he emphasized the title.

  Maggie pursed her lips and played her hand, hoping she could sell it.

  “That ‘arrangement’” she emphasized the word, “is not part of this discussion. As Ava mentioned, I would appreciate any information you are willing to give me that would aid in choosing one of these.” She pointed to the wall, “Or not is acceptable as well, and I’ll thank you for your time so far. But, that will be the content of our exchange.”

  Bart squinted and ran the pads of his fingers over his lips and mustache. “Arrangement...” he tested the word before Maggie cut him off.

  “...Is not up for discussion.”

  He stared her down as he cracked the knuckles of his fingers with the thumb of the same hand. He did both hands that way before holding up all ten, verbally giving in when Maggie returned his unblinking stare.

  “Okay.”

  He moved closer to the wall taking two down. “Basically, the choice is this, length and grip. If you’re just starting with one, I’d go with a shorter length and get tips to cover the tails as you’ll whip yourself often before you learn to control it. Once you have the feel for the motion, you can add length, but you may find a length somewhere in the middle that you prefer. You actually might prefer to start with a Cat.”

  He picked one up to show her. His face and eyes both showed his shock when she declined the piece.

  “I have one already.”

  “Well, well. You are full of surprises aren’t you?”

  Maggie lifted her eyes, slowly bringing her head up grinning.

  “Perhaps I am. Or, perhaps you just need to set aside the pre-conceived notions you have because you saw me out in a collar.” She tilted her head smiling, enjoying watching him try to figure her out. “How about we just agree that it might be both?”

  He squinted again like he had at Ava when they had begun.

  “You are a tempting enigma.”

  Maggie smiled wider. “You’re not the first to say so.”

  “I’d wager not, nor likely the last. Shall we continue?” he motioned to the wall.

  “Please.”

  “The grip is really the only other factor that matters. If you have a Cat you know if your hands get dry or wet as you throw and how important the right handle is. Me, I prefer a ball handle over a traditional stick style. In a pinch, a traditional handle with a good grip works, but it’s really about what feels best to you and allows you the most control. Understand?”

  She did and nodded still eyeing the various pieces on the wall. They stood in silence as she considered the look of them, picking up a few, feeling the weight of them as he watched her. She turned finally, thinking if there was nothing further, she was being rude. As she turned, she caught the confusion on his face before he buried it. His gaze was full of questions but no answers. Maggie knew that look, she’d worn it many times herself recently.

  “Thank you then. I appreciate your input and will consider it fully as I choose.”

  He was still squinting, fingering the tips of his goatee. He reached into his pocket as he nodded, handing her a card when he finally spoke.

  “If you find you need more information or assistance, look me up. This wall,” he gestured to the long tails and Cats in front of them, “is my domain, but you already knew that when you saw me didn’t you?”

  Maggie took the card and returned his squint with a grin.

  “I had a notion it was at least one of them.”

  His return grin was wicked and predatory, mocking and playful at the same time.

  “Choose wisely Ms. Enigma. Let me know if you need a more first-hand demonstration. You’ll find I’m quite good at teaching a ‘free bitch’ to heel.”

  Maggie raised her eyebrows and smiled her best smile. “I’ll remember.”

  “Make sure you do.”

  Whatever he had come for was either forgotten or not on this wall as he made his departure. “It was quite the unique pleasure to meet you Maggie.”

  “Mine as well. Thank you again.”

  Left to consider the choices alone, Maggie picked up several and put them back. The feel was foreign. If what he’d said was true, she would know how her hands were based on the Cat she owned. As it had been nothing more than art up to now, she had no idea.

  She picked up one with a ball handle and found she liked that less than any of the others. That it reminded her of failed Little League ages ago, sealed the deal and she put it back. Shifting a few around, she spied the one she knew she wanted regardless of how it felt to hold.

  Toward the back she spotted it by the handle. It was black like most of the others, but it was braided or woven with a piece of red through it. Patterned along the weave every several exchanges it was knotted with a raised diamond point creating the grip. The tail was woven also, tapering down to a fine tip of red.

  Taking it down, it was not the shortest one she’d
held, but it was not nearly the longest. She may have to work up to it, but she knew she had to have it. There was something about it that would not allow her to leave it behind. She took it to the counter and asked about tail tips not having seen anything on the wall with the leather. The clerk set a small package on the counter of what appeared to be spongy cat toys. Her credit was applied and she paid the balance. She headed home thinking she had come out better for the exchange wondering what Thorne would think of his birthday gift now.

  Home again, still Saturday night, still no plans, Maggie debated going to The Brickhouse solo but kyboshed the idea thinking of Bart possibly being there. Taking his card from her pocket she inspected it. She hadn’t wanted to do so in front of him at the store. Maggie gasped out loud.

  Bartholomew E. Drega

  Rinch, Waite & Drega

  Attorney at Law

  She was newly grateful she had pocketed it. She knew her reaction would not have been quiet. It was too much surprise. An Attorney? Ho.Ly crap on a cracker. She remembered him throwing the Cat the night before and baiting the sub who begged him for it trying to reconcile the image with the information. He’s an Attorney? Woah.

  ‘I brought my pencil...’

  Maggie took the long tail from the package and draped it over the sectional. It was so pretty. She was a little dismayed at the thought, were whips actually pretty? She admired the cane as she reached for the Cat on the shelf.

  The handle didn’t have the same feel as the long tail. It was smooth. A single piece of leather had been wrapped around and around the handle and was secured at the end with a flat furniture tack which also secured the piece that wrapped over the end underneath.

  Sitting on the sectional she compared the two pieces. The craftsmanship on the long tail was better. She hadn’t considered anything about the Cat before, but remembered it was not one she chose. It was handed to her because it was Wonder Woman red.

  As she looked between the two pieces she decided that Bart was wrong. There are three elements to consider when choosing implements; length/weight, grip and craftsmanship. All were speculative to the buyer, but as Maggie considered what she would and would not accept in the future, craftsmanship and quality would no longer be an afterthought.

  The tenor of her thoughts decided something else for her too. Like Thorne, she would not settle for less than exactly what she wanted in furnishings. The crosses on the floor were exemplary, she knew that much. The one she would own would need to be that and more. Hopefully Ava could see a way for her to have one.

  With her course reasonably decided, she determined she needed to put her choices to action. For several hours she turned the Cat this way and that way, getting a feel for how it moved. She mimicked what she could remember of Bart’s throw from the night before. There was no way she was calling him. She was clumsy and it would take far more than a few hours to get the hang of it. She resolved that weeks of practice would not have her calling him for help. She had a feeling that, unlike the information, help with actual throwing would come with a price tag she was unwilling to cover, or a demonstration she did not want to participate in.

  Nearer to midnight, she tucked the long tail end into a cover and tried to maneuver it. Bart had been right about that as she felt the ball graze her cheek as it flew past. Thankfully, there had been little force behind the full arm turn she had tried. Even covered, she was pretty sure that it would sting. An hour later and a few items accidentally on the floor, she decided she’d done enough damage for one night, literally, and put both pieces away.

  A long, hot shower later she dropped into bed after taking some ibuprofen. Her shoulder was tight and her wrist was sore. She had no idea if it was just getting used to it and would take time, or if she was doing it wrong. Short of calling Bart or Thorne, neither of which was an option, she could only think of one other way to find out. She’d try that tomorrow.

  Maggie was hopeful that late afternoon or early evening on Sunday would be a different crowd than Friday night had been at The Brickhouse. She was mostly right. Dressed in black, she walked in as though she knew what she was doing and went straight to the bar. She ordered a club soda with lime, knowing she didn’t particularly favor it, but wanted to look the part she was trying to play. Without Thorne or the collar, she was more than a little anxious.

  She scanned the room but kept moving. She didn’t avoid eye contact, but didn’t linger long enough to open the door for anything else either. She was doing her best to be aloof but not come across like a raging bitch. Short of a Dom or sub of her own, the word ‘wingman’ came to mind but she had no notion of how to find one. Her friends would surely flip at the idea, never mind manage to make it in the door without blowing it.

  Maggie slipped behind one of the drapes along the wall where she and Thorne had started. She knew exactly which room she wanted to see. The hallway was empty and more than one door was open, obviously also empty. Sadly, the one with the cross was one of the open ones. She stepped back through the nearest drape to the main room. She had no interest in walking past the pit at the end of the U-shaped back hallway.

  She picked up another soda and lime as she passed the bar heading for a drape on the far side. Ducking through, the long narrow room was before her, and in use. Peering in, it was a different couple than Friday night. The woman at the far end wore a face of rage and at one point spat at the man wielding the whip. Maggie had no idea of a protocol for such a scenario. She was still debating on what to do if anything when another couple came through the drape.

  “Oh, are you waiting for the room?”

  Maggie recognized the man from Friday night. This must be the woman.

  “Oh no, I was watching. Well, deciding if I would stay longer I suppose is closer to the truth.”

  The woman walked up and took a peek. When she turned back her face was a mask of disgust. She turned to the male with her first, “It’s Rick and Bea.” Then to Maggie, “They’ll be awhile. And, they’ll be like that most of it. How anyone gets anything out of being baited, cussed at, spit on and worse is beyond me, but it works for them.” She looked back to her partner. “Drink?” He shrugged and they turned to head back the way they had come. He finally spoke, holding open the drape. “You’re welcome to join us. They will be forever.”

  Maggie shrugged and followed them to a table in the main room. Trio trumped solo easily. He left to get them drinks after seating his partner.

  “That’s Peter.” She said as he walked away. “I’m known as Wendy Darling, but Wendy is fine. Can’t say I’ve seen you before, you new?”

  Maggie was processing how many people here Wendy might actually truly recognize. “New enough, name’s Maggie.”

  “Nice to meet you. How’d you find us?”

  “Us?

  “The Brickhouse. It’s mine, well mine and my partners anyway, among others scattered around.”

  Maggie’s mouth dropped into the silent ‘O’ formation complete with no sound. She caught herself but not before Wendy could laugh.

  “I’m sorry. It never occurred to me that there would be an owner. Or maybe an owner here? I mean...well damn, I think I’ve missed stepping in it and jumped in with both feet huh?”

  Peter returned while Wendy was still laughing. He hadn’t asked, but thankfully had a club soda with lime for Maggie. She downed the last one in embarrassment as Wendy caught him up. Wendy set her hand on Maggie’s wrist.

  “Relax. We don’t walk around all ‘We’re the owners...behave...blah, blah, blah.’ Many know we are and that’s enough to keep the peace. Your reaction was charming and authentic, which brings me back to how’d you find us?”

  A bit more composed, Maggie had pulled herself together enough to reply. “A friend brought me actually. I wanted to check out a couple things on my own, so I came back.”

  Wendy smiled. “That you felt like you could return solo pleases me greatly. I don’t want anyone here to feel uncomfortable or threatened. Be sure to thank your friend
for me. Can I ask what you came back to see?”

  Maggie squirmed before spitting out the truth. “You for one.”

  Wendy’s jaw dropped this time as did Peter’s. He hadn’t said a word since he’d returned.

  “Me? Why me?”

  “Actually, I saw you in the room I was just observing. You were throwing a long tail and I was hoping to see how you did it so cleanly.”

  Wendy’s shock turned to a huge grin. “Flattery will get you everywhere. I’d be happy to show you.”

  Her face mashed into a scowling frown. “I’m afraid it won’t be tonight though. We really only have the one room appropriately sized for long tail work. Rick and Bea could be hours. What about Tuesday?”

  Maggie frowned now. “Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday are my nights to work.”

  Wendy was quiet, obviously thinking. “Peter, go find someone to play with for a while. Maggie, I have an idea, come with me.”

  Wendy led her back to the first side of the hallway beyond the drapes. They found one of the spanking rooms open and went inside. Wendy took a key from her pocket, unlocked a key pad on the wall near the door and entered a code before locking them in.

  “I’ve changed the wall to one way glass looking out and let security know so there won’t be any audience. Not that there couldn’t be, but maybe not the first time. Okay by you?”

  Maggie still wasn’t sure what was going on. “I guess so.”

  Wendy pulled open a drawer of implements selecting two Cats, one short and one longer before handing Maggie the shorter one.

  “Throwing long tail is a lot like throwing Cat in the upright position. We can do the motions with these and maybe another time try with the whip. That and the kick back on these are not nearly as bad to start with.”

  Maggie chuckled. “Learned that lesson already.”

  Wendy made the ‘ouch’ face before continuing.

  “There are four points to throwing; your stance, your hip movement, the roll and the follow through. If you only throw with your wrist or shoulder it’s going to hurt after a time and for a long while. Think like a tennis player. They are standing there, but the weight shifts from the balls of their feet not the heels. Throwing is full body mechanics working together. You can’t follow through a motion that stops at the elbow or shoulder. Take the action all the way through your body and the energy will return for the next throw.”