by P Nelson
“Thinking about me, I hope.” Thea’s husky words sounded in his ear, and it sent a jolt of pure lust through his system. With just the hint of her breath on his neck, Dillon sat back on his stool and adjusted his cock into a more comfortable position. Thea’s gaze swiftly dropped to his dick.
“Damn straight.” Dillon replied and liked the effect it had on Thea. She licked her lips before moving her eyes back up to his face.
“Tease.” Her lips curved into a smile that did not reach her eyes.
“Let me tie you up and light up that incredible ass of yours.” Dillon leaned forward and didn’t hide his need for her. He was earnest, and if that was what it took to convince Thea he was serious about her, then he might even consider begging.
“I’m a Domme, Master Dillon. Nobody ties this girl up, and certainly no one ever whips my ass.” Thea gave no indication this situation might change, even though Dillon learned recently she had started out as a sub in the kink world.
“I’m the first in line, though, if anything changes.” He forced a boyish grin onto his face, one he understood women had a hard time resisting. It appeared to work on Thea too despite her trying to make him believe she was immune to his charms.
“Yes, you’ll be the first in line.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Dillon studied Thea’s face as her expression faltered for a second. His heart stopped at the gut-wrenching sadness he saw hiding behind her normal façade of authority. Before he could comment, she was the Domme in Residence again. “Master Flynn wants to see you.”
“What about?” Normally, Dillon would make all kinds of off-colour jokes, but Thea’s earlier expression had him holding back on the drama. Linkin had been right. Thea had a shit day, and there wasn’t enough comedic gold in the world that would encourage him to take advantage of her mood right now.
“What do you think?” Her tone was neither haughty nor perturbed. More matter of fact. His cock softened at once as his mind raced.
Shit, Master Flynn still thinks there’s a connection, he thought. Dillon searched Thea’s face, which had become unreadable. “You think there’s a connection between the Reverend and what happened to me with Tiffany.”
“There are too many connections.” Thea raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t going to discuss anything further while they were on the dungeon floor. Part of the reason she was a good detective and a hell of a good Domme in Residence was her discretion.
Dillon slipped off his barstool and pushed the warm beer away from him. If he hadn’t glanced at Linkin, he would have missed the pointed look he shared with Thea before she ushered him towards the rear security door. Whatever the hell was going on, Linkin was up to eyeballs in it.
Dillon thought of Linkin’s happy little threesome. Sure, they had problems, but none of them were as insurmountable as his, in love with a Domme who wouldn’t let him tie her up and have his naughty way with her. His situation was a million light years away from Linkin, Martin, and Delaney.
“You’re out of sorts tonight.” Thea offered as they passed through the dungeon. Thea acknowledged the respected greetings of the kinksters, Dillon followed likewise. Despite the horrible scandal he had endured last year and his fight to become a Dom again, most of the people in the BDSM world had never wavered in their support. It felt great being a part of a community that valued and respected him. So why did everything he do feel so damn hollow? Thea held the door open to him.
“I’m just feeling my age.” Dillon followed her down the brightly lit corridor past the security room filled with banks of monitors and a team who made sure The Cage was the safest place to play in Vancouver. They escaped up the stairs to the staff area, past the kitchen, and down the long hall to the beautifully built boardroom. Flynn was standing at the end of the long glass boardroom table; he was looking down at an open laptop in front of him. Tasteful black and white photos of subs tied up in different shibari positions lined the outer walls in lieu of windows.
“Good, Dillon, I was hoping you’d be in tonight.” Flynn looked up as they entered the boardroom.
“You can call any time.” Dillon walked down the line of chairs gently pushed into the long table. He looked at Flynn and saw the lines of worry on his face and the tightness in his friend’s shoulders, tension he’d never seen before. Without hesitation, Dillon wrapped one of his arms around Master Flynn, and they hugged it out like guys. Dillon pounded his friend on the back several times before stepping away. “Tell me your troubles, old friend.”
“The whole damn world knows my troubles.” Master Flynn stepped back, and he was once again the alpha Dom Dillon recognized so well. “Sit down, this is going to take some explaining.” He indicated the luxurious leather chairs, and Dillon pulled one out. “Hopefully, you’re going to hear us out before you decide to criticise.”
Dillon sat back and took a deep breath; it wasn’t like Master Flynn to ask for anything. He told you what he expected, and if you didn’t like it, the door was the only other option.
Thea said, “As you probably already know because I saw you speaking to Master Linkin, I was taken off the Reverend case this morning after Belle Dillinger’s body was found dumped in the Fraser River.” Dillon opened his mouth to give her his commiserations, but she held up a hand to stall him and continued. “It was the only decision the chief could make under the circumstances. My life as a Domme has been compromised, and as far as the vanilla world is concerned, because I like to whip consenting men makes me unfit to track down and serve justice to assholes who like to kidnap and torture women.”
“We’re going to do our best to keep your identity safe, Thea; you can count on Linkin and me.” Master Flynn sat forward in his chair.
“I know.” She took a breath and fixed her wide green stare on Dillon. His cock twitched to life again. “The fact is just because I’m off the official investigation doesn’t mean I can’t continue on my own, and I think the information Linkin and I have uncovered on Esposito, formerly of The Supplicants of the Lord Church, needs to be taken much more seriously than my superiors do.”
“What are you proposing?” Dillon’s heart rate sped up as he searched her features looking for weaknesses to exploit. A forbidden thrill rolled through him. This is what her subs felt like under her care.
“Esposito has already tried to destroy your life before through the Supplicants.” Thea chose her words carefully. “We want to put you back on the board of likely targets.” He tried to think rationally about her words, but all he could think about was that she was staring at him with the same intensity she had on the night they had fucked each other stupid. What was the point in even trying to reason it out? He was going to agree to whatever made her continue to look that way again.
“Fine. I’ll be his next target.” He thought for a second before turning his gaze over to Master Flynn. “I would rather it was me than some poor sub.”
“Good. We all thought you’d feel the same way.” Master Flynn sat back in his chair, the slight lightening of his features the only indication of the tension he had carried a moment before.
Chapter Three
“When I agreed to become a target, I was thinking this would be more James Bond,” Dillon grumbled as he stood on the dungeon floor of The Feather Flogger. Both Doms and subs from the moment he stepped through the men’s locker room door had surrounded him. Once upon a time, the attention wouldn’t have bothered him. Now, after everything that happened with his former sub Tiffany, the extra attention and calls for demonstrations were tedious as hell.
“You thought we’d set you up somewhere for a poker game, and you’d have to shoot your way out while saving a sub in distress?” Thea spoke into the discreet earpiece Linkin had assured Dillon would be invisible.
“Maybe I’d like to save a Domme in distress,” Dillon said under his breath as he greeted another Dom whom he had met years back. He tried to keep up with the conversation as the other man talked about Dillon’s latest adult film. The conversation in his earp
iece was much more interesting. Thea spoke up again.
“You’ve been playing at The Cage for so long you forget that most of your audience and fan base are in the real world. This is a good way for you to show your support to the community and for you to signal to our asshole friend that he hasn’t cowed you in any way. In fact, you’re out and ready to kick off your hedonist life of debauchery once again.” She finished just as the Dom in front of Dillon came to the point of his conversation.
“She loves the tying up part, but she always uses her safe word when I get going with the whip,” the Dom said, and Dillon racked his brain for the man’s name and finally found it.
“Master Matt, have you talked to your sub about this problem?” It sounded like maybe the whipping part just wasn’t his sub’s kink, and Matt needed to clue in before she decided enough was enough. “Because when I taught the outreach BDSM classes, one of the first tenets of safe, sane, and consensual play is communication.”
“Sharon keeps telling me she wants to try but then chickens out.” Master Matt looked as if he were at his wit’s end. Dillon took a deep breath and did his best to block everything else happening around him in the dungeon. This man was coming to him for advice, and the safety of a sub was involved. She deserved his full attention.
“OK. So, you either have a sub who wants to try but doesn’t feel comfortable in the way you’re approaching the whipping. Try discussing another scene with her and seeing if different settings or scenarios make her feel more comfortable.” This part of the advice he hated to give, but it was better to deal with realities when it came to the kink world. “Or she just might not share your kink, in which case, you’ll have to decide whether or not she’s the right sub for you or if you’re better off giving up this particular kink.” Dillon waited as Matt digested his advice.
“We’ve been married for fifteen years and have two kids.” Matt’s brows knitted together. “I never thought she might not be the right sub for me.”
“Then you need to work on your communication and be honest with yourself about what your Dom goals are.” Dillon started to pull out of the conversation since there were still several people waiting to speak to him, but the owner of The Feather Flogger was about to give a demonstration on paddling. “If you’ll excuse me.” He smiled politely and slipped away before Matt could say anything further.
“Good. You still have people who want to speak with you, but you need to mingle,” Thea encouraged over the earpiece.
“I’m glad you approve,” he murmured before greeting a Domme and a sub he had run into several times over the years. It didn’t take him as long to extricate himself, and Dillon breathed a sigh of relief just as a petite brunette sidled up next to him. She tilted her head up and flashed him a big smile. Dillon blinked back. This was one hell of a brat if he had ever met one.
“Are you going over to watch Master Lovett’s flogger demonstration, Master Dillon?” The petite brunette asked in a breathless manner meant to lure him. Dillon allowed a frown to distort his features and studied the brunette’s expression. She didn’t even flinch.
“Since you’re aware of who I am, you’ll also know I’m a Dom, not a sub.” He chose his words carefully. The Feather Flogger was not The Cage. It was a BDSM club open to the public and any old tourist could sign the waivers and join the fun.
“I’m a sub,” the woman said with too much confidence. Holding in a laugh, Dillon took his time looking the brunette over.
“Really?” he drawled and leaned over watching her eyes the whole time. He never touched her, but she started to shrink away from him as he whispered in her ear. Not from fear of acting like a naughty brat, but revulsion at the thought he might touch her. “I think you don’t know what you are, but I do. You’re a Domme who needs to find herself a set of balls to clamp. I’m not your man. Run along, little tourist, I don’t play with inexperienced partners. If you want to learn more about your dominant side, keep an eye out for the Domme/sub training courses The Cage offers.” He straightened his shoulders and shifted his eyes to the main stage where Master Lovett was testing a flogger against his arm. A sub, tied to a St Andrew’s Cross behind him, faced away from the crowd and rested her head against the wooden frame as she waited for the first kiss of leather.
“I’m a sub,” the brunette insisted as she planted her hands on her hips. “I want to negotiate a contract to play with you tonight.” Her mouth widened in what Dillon thought could have passed as a smile, but the crinkles around her eyes told him she was forcing it. Losing patience with the over-eager woman, Dillon fixed her with his Dom stare. The woman immediately shrank back. Maybe she had a slice of sub in her, after all.
“You’re obviously new to the scene,” Dillon maintained eye contact with the now squirming woman, “so I’ll explain a few things to you. First, this is a dungeon floor. There are rules and protocols you need to follow while on this floor. These rules are a part of the BDSM lifestyle, a community of people and a set of practices I believe in with every fibre of my being.”
“Dillon.” Thea’s warning rang in his ear, but at this point he didn’t care about whatever she was going to say. He needed to put this sub/Domme in her place. The community was taking a beating in the media and the vanilla world right now; the least this newbie could do was respect the rules of the dungeon.
“I’ve already confirmed to you that I’m not interested in entering a scene with you. It doesn’t matter if you’re a Dom or a sub. There’s never a reason to pressure another person into a scene they’ve already declined. Period.” Dillon took a calming breath as the woman’s expression turned from cowed to irritated once again. He wasn’t about to explain the power exchange to this woman or if they had a contract between them, it would be his job to push her limits, with her permission. It was too complicated a subject to get into with someone with a total lack of understanding about the BDSM world. Thea was squawking in his ear, but he continued to ignore her.
“Furthermore, if I were to agree to a scene with you. I’d be the dominant partner; you’d be the sub. You’d agree to let me tie you up and do all kinds of nasty things to that sweet body of yours. In compensation, if you were a good little sub, I would grant you a multitude of mind-numbing orgasms. However, no means no in the kink world.” Dillon added for good measure. “Tone the aggression down if you’re looking to bottom for a dominant. Generally, they’re in charge of a scene.”
Linkin’s hard laugh barked out across the earpiece, and Dillon wanted to pick the stupid thing out of his ear. The brunette had planted her hands on her hips with an expression of outrage marring her lovely features. He wished he had never agreed to do this. He could be at The Cage pondering which willing sub he was going to torture and pleasure for the evening. A lie. He would be stalking Thea. Since Thea was here, he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
“Asshole,” the brunette sputtered. Dillon didn’t think he could shock easily, but the woman’s outburst almost had him issuing the requisite spankings for a sub swearing.
“Wow. You’re completely out of your depth here.” Dillon stepped past her.
“You need to listen to me, Mr Ross.” For the second time during his conversation with the brunette, his jaw slackened. “You’re going to walk over to that demonstration with me, and you’re going to pretend you like it.”
“Dillon.” Thea’s warning penetrated through his stunned brain as he stared down at the brunette with a closed expression. “That sub is not all she appears.”
“You think?” Dillon muttered not bothering to hide his words.
“She’s an undercover agent. The department must be operating a sting.” Thea sounded out of breath as she passed the information along. It was so foreign it unscrambled Dillon’s brain and made him focus once more on the woman who was trying to manipulate him.
“Do you know what I do to subs who try to top me from the bottom?” The woman shook her head as Dillon saw a disturbance from the side of the club. “I deny them orgasms
for hours.” Rough male hands took hold of his arms and spun him around at the same time two of Linkin’s men appeared seamlessly from the crowd.
“You like to hurt women, do you?” A man roughly the same height as Linkin, but wider in the shoulders pressed his face into Dillon’s. The Dom inside of Dillon, already riled at the brunette’s behaviour, became reckless. Dillon grinned evilly. Linkin’s form appeared behind the man holding him.
“Yeah, I do. But I like to tie them up first.” He didn’t even see the punch coming. Dillon never denied he was a lover not fighter.
&
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Thea realised she was shrieking and losing some serious street cred on her Domme persona right now, but witnessing a fellow officer one-punch Dillon and seeing his head snap back, the man she fantasized about for months, had her heart galloping, a sick feeling bubbling up inside of her. “Back the fuck off, Thompson.” She pushed the burly cop away from where two of Linkin’s undercover buddies were helping Dillon into a seated position on the floor. He blinked a few times, but appeared OK; unfortunately, Dillon was going to have a hell of a shiner.
“I asked you what the fuck is going on here.” Thea stood up to her full height and stared down the other man. She was an inch shorter than the cop, but she pushed her shoulders back and thrust out her chin.
“I could ask you the same question, detective.” Thompson manoeuvred his bulky frame closer, trying to intimidate her. Thea would have felt amused if she weren’t so worried about Dillon. She had topped men who weighed twice as much as she; Lieutenant Thompson was hardly a challenge.
