by Laura Kaye
Master Alex removed the paperwork from the envelope and unfolded it with an almost practiced precision. There was a rigidness about him that added to the veneer of his unapproachability. But at the same time, Jamie found the man utterly appealing precisely because of how damn intimidating he was.
Like he was a lion that might strike at any moment, beautiful but deadly.
Before this weekend, Jamie would’ve thought that was a strange reaction for him to have to another man, on so many levels. After a lifetime of considering himself straight, it was still a little confusing to realize he might’ve been wrong all this time. Or at least only half right? But thank God for the internet, because yesterday he’d spent time reading messages boards and learned that he wasn’t alone in making it to his late twenties before realizing he might actually be bisexual. A few of the commenters talked about having a light-bulb moment when they first had the thought that they might not be straight, and Jamie identified with that a lot. Because his conversation with Jeremy had provided the first flash of insight that’d illuminated the possibility for him.
And now he wanted to explore these new sides of himself and see where they might lead.
Jamie relaxed as he answered a string of basic questions and absorbed the information Master Alex dispensed about protocol within the club. He explained that the cuff he wore marked him as one of Blasphemy’s twelve Masters, who had final say about everything that happened at the club and who would serve as a resource for Jamie if he had questions or problems. He couldn’t help but admire the way the soft black leather looked on the other man—not to mention being intrigued by what it represented.
Experience. Understanding. Mastery.
All qualities that’d turned Jamie on in those videos he’d watched. All things Jamie craved to have applied to himself.
Master Alex pulled a white cuff from a drawer. “Submissives wear their own cuffs. White for unattached, red for attached. No player should approach an attached submissive without his or her Dominant’s permission. However, for unattached submissives, your cuff will allow Dominants to know your interests, and your limits.” He pulled two sheets of paper from among those Jamie had given him.
Jamie swallowed hard. He knew what the sheets were. The first was a checklist of activities—sexual and otherwise—that he’d been asked to mark one of three ways: willing to perform/experience; soft limit, meaning open to experience but with reservations; and hard limit, meaning unwilling to perform/experience. The second was similar, but included a list of riskier activities defined as edge play that Master Kyler had given him to complete given his interest in masochism.
Having never done some of the acts, it hadn’t been easy to determine how to mark some items, and Jamie had done more research—reading and porn—to judge what his reactions were.
Master Alex pulled a tray of colored ribbons from the drawer. “The different colors indicate your interests and limits.” He held up two ribbons and arched a brow as he nailed him with a stare. “Light blue is for interest in moderate pain. Dark blue is for interest in intensive pain play.”
Jamie’s heart was suddenly a bass drum in his chest, especially with the way Master Alex studied him. The problem was, Jamie wasn’t sure which to choose. His gut told him to go with the dark blue. Hell, his cock wanted the dark blue, too. But having never done this before, what if he was wrong? What if he couldn’t take what he thought he wanted?
He swallowed hard. “Sir, may I ask your advice? Because I crave the dark blue, but being so new, I don’t want to make a promise to a Dominant that I can’t keep.”
It took everything Jamie had to hold the other man’s gaze, especially when a look of surprise flashed across his face.
Master Alex’s gaze became more appraising, and he nodded. “Recognition of your limitations is always a strength, Jamie. In your case, your inexperience is a limitation. One you can overcome. Begin with the light blue.”
“Yes, Sir,” he said, glad he’d asked, even as a tendril of disappointment curled into his belly.
“This disappoints you,” Master Alex said as he attached the light blue. It wasn’t a question.
“A little, Sir.”
He nailed him with a dark stare. “If this place, this lifestyle, is really for you, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”
Jamie nodded, appreciating the reminder. And as other colored ribbons joined the first, excitement stirred anew in his gut. There was green for a willingness to engage in sex, orange for anal sex—even though Jamie’d never had it before, gold for group sex, and red for bondage.
Master Alex shifted to the list of edgier play, and knowing that the other man was reading about what kinds of things made up the gist of Jamie’s darker, more deviant sexual fantasies had him suddenly rock hard in his jeans. As subtly as he could, Jamie adjusted himself. But he needn’t have worried about being caught because Master’s Alex’s eyes remained on the page, allowing Jamie to look his fill at the other man.
Who was unquestionably attractive, not a little compelling, and seriously intimidating. Jamie had no idea what Master Alex was into, but after all Jamie’s explorations of the past two days, it was like his brain—and his libido—were suddenly open to considering anything. Everything.
Knowing that Master Alex was learning Jamie’s most secret inner desires had Jamie considering Master Alex’s in return. Was this Dom interested in the humiliation, breath play, cock-and-ball torture, and consensual non-consent scenes that Jamie had indicated he was willing to do? Did he like electrical shock and medical play, which Jamie had indicated he might be willing to try? And how the heck did a submissive go about finding out what a Dom was interested in? Was it rude to ask?
Jamie didn’t know. But apparently his body was unconcerned about the logistics, because having his deviancies laid out for another man to peruse rushed a wave of arousal through him and left him feeling like someone had taken a blowtorch to his blood.
That someone being the man with all the sharp edges sitting right in front of him. Master Alex. He didn’t exactly know what to do with that fact, but that didn’t make it any less true.
“This last ribbon will indicate an openness to edge play,” Master Alex said, his voice tight, strained. “It will be up to you and any Dom you might play with to discuss the parameters of what you’re willing to do. However, I caution you to really get to know a person before you consider pushing the boundaries of safe, sane, and consensual play.” He worked a striped yellow and black ribbon onto his cuff.
“Yes, Sir,” Jamie said, restlessness flooding through him and making it hard to sit still.
“That completes what we need to do here,” Master Alex said. “There are lockers through the door behind you. Please stow your coat, wallet, keys, phone and the like and then I’ll take you for a tour of the club.”
Jamie rose. “Yes, Sir,” he said, glad for the opportunity to move, to exorcise some of the energy making his nerves jangle and his heart beat fast. As he made for the door, he would’ve sworn he felt Master Alex’s eyes on his back. And he found himself hoping that the man might give him more than just a tour…
Alone again, Master Alex blew out a long, hard breath. Because Jesus fucking Christ. Jamie Fielding had so strongly radiated a heady combination of urgent need and excited anticipation that it’d been nearly a physical presence in the room. If that hadn’t been appealing enough, his asking for Alex’s advice about the pain ribbon colors was evidence of a thoughtfulness, seriousness, and honesty that Alex couldn’t help but appreciate.
And then there’d been Jamie’s list of interests and limits, which closely matched most of Alex’s own. Of course, the real proof of compatibility would be in learning the extent of the man’s true tolerance for pain, but in his willingness and openness, Alex found someone with whom he seemed to be largely on the same page.
He wasn’t sure whether to thank Kyler or throttle him for giving Jamie the edge play list to complete. Kyler was obviously trying his hand at a
bit of matchmaking. And he didn’t appreciate it at all. Not when the Dom knew that Alex preferred experienced players.
Frustration parked itself like a rock in his gut.
Which of course was the moment when Jamie returned to the registration area.
He made for the chair, but Alex shook his head, wanting to see just how submissive he was. Wanting to give the guy a little bit of a hard time. Wanting to toy with him…
“You will remain standing.”
Jamie froze, his hands falling restlessly to his sides.
Taking his good old time, Alex rose, pushed in his chair, rounded the desk. And then he came to stand right in front of the other man.
The guy was hot as fuck. That couldn’t be denied. He wore his brown hair short, both on his head and on his face, where he had a perfectly groomed beard and moustache. He’d gone basic with his clothing—just a pair of black jeans and a form-fitting black T-shirt. But all that black did highlighted the riot of color on his left arm, where he had a full sleeve of ink that began at his wrist and disappeared underneath the shirt. They were almost perfectly matched for height, which allowed Alex to hold his gray-eyed gaze and see just how eager he was. Christ, the guy was nearly vibrating with an excited energy that Alex had to admit was a little contagious.
He tried to remember when he’d last felt that kind of overwhelming exhilaration and anticipation—about anything. And he honestly fucking couldn’t pinpoint it.
“Feet shoulder-width apart,” Alex said.
Jamie blinked, unprepared for the command and momentarily caught off guard. But he recovered fast and spread his stance.
Circling, Alex moved behind Jamie, enjoying the tension he saw fill the man’s shoulder muscles. “Arms behind your back, right hand atop the left, fingers straight, thumbs interlocked.” When he followed the instructions, Alex leaned in. “Good,” he said just an inch from Jamie’s ear. He’d meant to tease the man, but so close, Alex inhaled the cool, clean scent of Jamie’s soap, and perhaps of whatever oil or conditioner he applied to his beard. The guy smelled mouthwateringly good, and Alex kinda wanted to beat his ass for it.
Swallowing hard, he returned so that they stood face to face. “This position, with your eyes held forward, is at ease. Unless a Dom gives you an alternate instruction, it is always a safe and respectful position to take if you are unsure what to do.”
“Okay—”
“Silence,” Alex said, stepping closer. “No speaking unless I ask you a direct question or give you permission to speak freely. Do you understand?”
Jamie’s eyes went wide and he licked his lips. “Yes, Sir.”
Alex nodded. “On your knees.”
Responding faster this time, Jamie sank downward. And it was a heady fucking thing, watching a new submissive obey—and watching them find pleasure in the obedience. Alex didn’t know if Jamie had read up on kneeling or if it was a coincidence, but he nearly nailed the position, settling with his knees spread, his feet tucked under his ass, and his hands palms down on his thighs.
Alex relished having the kid at his feet way more than he should. “Palms up, gaze down. This is the waiting position, which is also good when you’ve made a mistake and wish to display contrition. Now, look at me.”
Jamie tilted his head back to reveal that those gray eyes were fucking blazing. Alex allowed his own gaze to travel downward, to where a bulge filled out the front of the man’s black jeans. Jesus.
“Present me your right wrist,” he said, hearing a rasp to his voice that Jamie would have no reason to notice. When he obeyed, Alex fastened the white cuff there.
“Thank you, Sir,” Jamie said. He hadn’t needed prompting, proving that the kid truly felt the gratitude rather than merely knowing that gratitude was to be expected.
Fucking Kyler and his goddamned favor. Because Alex was self-aware enough that he couldn’t deny that Jamie Fielding pushed his buttons, just like the other Dom had probably suspected. “Rise. Inside the club, you will be respectful, but you may speak freely and ask questions as they occur to you.”
Resuming the at ease position, Jamie nodded.
Alex arched a brow and gestured toward the door to the main floor of the club. “Welcome to Blasphemy.”
Five
Feeling more than a little overwhelmed by having another man order him to his knees—and by having liked it, Jamie followed Master Alex into what had once been the interior of a church. The space was huge, with a soaring ceiling, tall stained-glass windows, and colorful frescoes on the walls. Marble columns and potted plants created semi-private seating areas, and a huge round bar dominated the center of the space. Driving music played against the din of conversation, laughter, and cries of ecstasy.
Which had Jamie noticing the people. Beautiful and ordinary, young and old, some wearing street clothes, some in fetish wear, some wearing little—or nothing—at all. From the corner of his eye, he spied a woman on her knees giving a man a blow job while he stroked her hair and engaged in a conversation with other people in nearby seats. Around an X-shaped piece of furniture, a crowd gathered to watch a woman flog a naked man from chest to thighs and back again.
And he thought he’d been overwhelmed before. Jamie swallowed hard, trying to take it all in, but his senses were on overload.
“That’s a Saint Andrew’s Cross,” Master Alex said. “It restrains a person in a spread-eagle position, as you can see.”
Jamie nodded, embarrassed that his attention was held so rapt but at the same time unable to look away. The heat of a blush filled his cheeks, something brought home all the more when Master Alex whispered in his ear.
“You’re blushing. No need to feel embarrassment. Mistress Dyan’s submissive is an exhibitionist. He gets off on you watching.”
Jamie looked at the Dom beside him, wondering what he got off on. “It just takes a bit of adjustment to seeing people being so open.”
Master Alex tilted his head. “Are you shy, boy?”
Boy. How was it possible for that word to both make him bristle and turn him on? Because the ache in his cock told him the latter was true. “Not normally, Sir.” Wanting to prove it, he asked the question that had been on his mind. “May I ask how a submissive learns what a Dom’s into?”
Master Alex arched a brow over narrowed eyes. The look was meant to be intimidating, and it was. But it was also sexy as fuck. Truth be told, Jamie wanted to see it while he was pinned beneath the man. “It’s not a submissive’s place to initiate play. Doms will come to you and discuss…scenarios. But since you’re new and I understand that you’re trying to get your bearings, I’ll also offer this. Getting to know the other submissives will be useful to you. They have a lot to teach you, including helping you get to know the other players and their reputations.”
Jamie nodded, appreciating the advice. The flogged man cried out, drawing his attention back to the scene unfolding at the cross. Mistress Dyan wore a black leather corset and skirt over thigh-high black boots, and she wielded the flogger like it was an extension of herself. Naturally. Confidently. Unrelentingly.
He’d been half-erect since he’d walked through Blasphemy’s door, but imagining being on the receiving end of the Domme’s flogging had his cock getting hard again. So…both Master Alex and Mistress Dyan aroused him? Was it their dominance? Their ability to inflict pain? It seemed so, and it made him increasingly certain—he was aroused by the idea of both a woman and a man dispensing the pain. He was aroused by both women and men.
“Come,” Master Alex said, stepping away and expecting Jamie to follow.
He blinked out of his thoughts and did as he was told, his brain unhelpfully imagining the man giving that command under entirely different circumstances. Jesus.
They approached the big bar, and the crowd parted a little as Master Alex leaned in. It was interesting to watch how others reacted to the Dom. With respect, deference, even something that looked a little like trepidation in a few people’s eyes. In other submissives’ eyes.<
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Jamie could confirm that the two women standing behind the closest seat were submissives by the cuffs on their wrists. But what he most noticed about them was how quickly they dropped their gazes in response to Alex’s appearance. From under her lashes, the closest woman peered at Jamie, a curious, appraising look in her eyes. Like maybe she was wondering what kind of person would be with this Dominant.
Master Alex waved down the bartender, a brown-haired man with a quick smile, a booming laugh, and an easy-going demeanor that was exactly Alex’s opposite. “Master Quinton, I’d like to introduce you to Jamie, a new prospective member.”
The new Dom braced his hands on the counter, revealing the same black leather wrist cuff that marked him as one of the Masters of Blasphemy. “Jamie, welcome. I hope Master Alex is treating you well.” Master Quinton winked, like he’d just included Jamie on an inside joke.
“Yes, Sir,” he said, unable to hold back a smile around the man. There was something about him that was welcoming and relatable, like he was just a regular guy with whom you might hang out.
“Well, you need anything, you just let me know.” Master Quinton grinned as he got called to the other side of the bar.
“I’ll do that. Thank you, Sir.”
“This way,” Master Alex said, leading them around the bar. On the far side was a large dance floor and beyond it, a stage where the church’s altar used to be. Instead of dancing, a crowd was assembled watching what appeared to be a show.
“Is this a bondage demonstration, Sir?” he asked, mesmerized by the fluid way the big Dom worked bright blue rope around the lithe body of a suspended blond woman.
