by Frost, E J
“Emily, did Rachel say anything to you directly?”
“No, Daddy.”
“Did she say anything to Pence or stop him from insulting me?”
“No, Daddy, she just laughed.”
I heard that. “Uh-huh. I’ll deal with her later, but you first, boy. What is Blunts?”
“Um, I don’t understand the question, sir.”
I give him a hard shake by the hair to help kick-start his fucking brains. He yelps.
“What is Blunts?”
“It-it’s a club, sir.”
“It’s a club. A club where Dominants come to indulge our kink in a safe place where we’re not judged by vanillas who don’t understand us. Are you a top, boy?”
We’re interrupted by Bull exiting the Dom’s changing room. He’s pulled on leathers over his knee support and slings a toy bag over his shoulder as he sweeps the scene with his eyes. The corner of his mouth kicks up. He taps Pence’s forehead as he walks past. “You’re fucked now. Can’t say you haven’t had it coming. Logan, enjoy your evening.”
“You, too, Bull. Pence, answer me.”
“Uh, no, sir?”
“Are you asking me a question? Think hard and answer me. Are you a fucking top? Are you a member of this club?”
Bull chuckles as he walks away. I’m glad he finds this amusing, because I really do not. In fact, I’ve completely had my fill of impudent, manipulative, unkind subs. Maybe Maude and Javier are right about the house subs. They need a broom taking to them, and not in a fun way.
“No, sir! Sorry, sir. I’m not a member.”
“That’s right. You’re an employee. You’re hired to help create the safe place where the members can enjoy their kinks. Have you done your job tonight? Have you made this a safe place where I can bring my submissive and be her daddy? Have you done that?”
“No.” His chin quivers. “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I haven’t.”
“No, you fucking haven’t. By insulting my kink and my submissive, you make me not want to come here. You make Emily not want to come here. You make this an unsafe place, a fearful place, for us. Is that your job as a house submissive? Is that what my membership dues pay for?”
He bites his lips, and I can tell it’s to keep from crying, but his tears haven’t even started yet.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry!”
“You will be. Get up, go to the Stocks, kneel, and wait for me. You don’t look at anyone. You don’t talk to anyone. And if I don’t find you exactly where I’ve told you to be when I come to find you, whether that’s five minutes from now or five fucking days from now, don’t even consider showing your face inside this club again. Am I absolutely clear?”
“Yes, sir.” His face crumples and the waterworks start. I give him a final shake and a shove to send him on his way. He scrambles to his feet but evidently doesn’t have the common-sense God gave a fucking goat, because as he’s backing away from me, he says, “I’m supposed to do a scene with Master Harold, sir.”
I pin him with a glare. “Did I ask you where you’re supposed to be? That’s a day’s wages. Want to keep testing me?”
“No, sir!” His brains finally catch up with him, and he flees down the corridor.
I move to Emily and put my hand down into her line of sight. She slips her soft little fingers into mine. When I pull her upwards, she rises into my arms. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
She’s not shaking or pale, and her skin is warm against mine. I kiss her forehead. “Were you scared, or just upset, by what he said and did?”
Emily was bullied, horribly bullied, in high school, and while she’s not showing any signs that Pence’s behavior has triggered her, the last time something really triggered her, we ended up with her hyperventilating on the bathroom floor.
I’d like to avoid a repeat of that.
“Just upset but I promise it’s not too much, Daddy. Pence hasn’t ever been nice to me, so I don’t care what he says. It made me a little nervous when he came near me, but I knew you were next door, and if I screamed, you’d hear me.”
Fuck that.
“Emmy, I don’t want to put you in situations where you feel so threatened you need to scream for me to rescue you. This is supposed to be a safe place, and Rachel’s bitchy little clique is fucking that up. This stops now. Rachel’s gone as of tomorrow, but I’m going to teach Pence a lesson tonight. A very harsh lesson. Something he will not forget. Something that will get back to all the other house subs and make them think twice about fucking with you. Do you want to stay with me while I do that, or would you like to find Maude and spend some time with her instead?”
She lifts her face and her eyes search mine. “What do you want me to do?”
“I’d like you to stay with me. I might even use your presence as part of the punishment. But I’m not kidding about this being a harsh lesson. Pence is going to scream and cry and be in a great deal of pain before I’m done with him. If it will upset you to see that, I’m not going to make you stay.”
“I’d like to stay with you. Thank you for giving me a choice.”
I kiss her forehead again. “Good girl. I’m going to set up and I’d like you to do some things for me while I do.” At her nod, I give her instructions, knowing she’ll be listening carefully to each word. “First, go to Austin. Tell him there’s been a change of plans. I’m releasing the Blue Harem Room and I’ll be using the Stocks tonight until closing. Tell him it’s a black and red scene with a gold star. Ask Austin to have a bucket of ice sent up from the kitchens. Then ask him which room Master Harold is in. When he tells you, go there, curtsey to Master Harold, and tell him that I send my regrets that Pence will not be able to join him for their scene because Pence is being punished. If Master Harold would like to assist in Pence’s punishment, he’d be most welcome and we’ll be in the Stocks. Bring Pence’s hard limit list back with you; Master Harold will have it. Did you get all that?”
“Yes, Daddy. Can I ask questions later?”
“You may, good girl. You know where the Stocks are?”
“Yes, Daddy, I remember.”
“Good. I’ll meet you there in no more than ten minutes. If anyone delays or questions you, tell them your daddy requires you in the Stocks in no more than ten minutes.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I give her a final kiss on the forehead. “This isn’t the scene I planned for tonight, little girl, but I promise you’ll get lots and lots of orgasms either way. Good enough?”
“More than good enough, Daddy.”
“That’s my angel. Off you go.”
She skips away when I release her. My little girl, so full of enthusiasm and joy. How could anyone be so cruel as to want to dim her glow?
I turn on my heel and head down the hall to where one little glow-dimming shit is about to catch hell.
* * *
To give him credit, Pence is waiting exactly where I told him to. The room’s dim and cold, with the air-conditioning on high. Probably too cold for naked submissives, but that bothers me not one fucking bit. With what I have planned for Pence, it’s unlikely he’ll be shivering. At least, not from the room’s temperature.
Pence isn’t alone in the room. When I bring up the lights, I see we already have an audience. Mistress Dana is sitting on one of the couches positioned around the ring of wooden pillories in the middle of the room. Dana’s one of a half-dozen active Dommes at Blunts. She joined the management committee last year, but I still don’t know her well. She’s as quiet and self-contained as Emily, even though she unquestionably has a Dominant’s soul. A house sub, Mally, drop-dead sexy in a leopard-print cat-suit that her curves overflow, kneels at Dana’s feet while Dana fingers the black fur ears sticking out of Mally’s curly hair.
I wink at Mally and greet Dana with a handshake.
“Good evening, Master Logan. This submissive says you’ve told him not to speak.” She tips her pointed chin at Pence. There’s something very feline ab
out Dana, right down to the pleasure she gets from cruelty.
“Did he, now?” I ask. “Did he manage to tell you that without speaking? Because I told him very specifically not to talk to anyone.”
The corner of her deep crimson mouth lifts. “No, he didn’t.”
“That’s strike two. We’re going to do a black and red scene with a gold star. I’d be pleased if you’d assist me in punishing this wayward submissive.”
“My pleasure.” She leans down and unhooks her leash from Mally’s collar. “Mally-sweet, go to Austin and tell him you’re free for two hours and that I’d like the Peacock Room at ten. I’ll meet you there. Run along, now, there’s a good girl.”
Mally leans over and kisses Dana’s mirror-polished black boot before she jumps up, curtsies to me, and runs off.
“She’s a dove, Logan,” Dana says, following Mally’s waving, wiggling tail with her eyes as the sub trots through the door. “You did a great job with her.”
“She was a pleasure to train.”
And Mally was, much easier than Rachel, despite Mally’s body-image issues. Both during our training and as a house submissive, she’s worked hard on overcoming those mental limitations and has started to let her Doms see her for what she is: a big, beautiful woman with a ton of heart. Mally’s not a masochist and our kinks didn’t mesh, otherwise I would have happily taken her as my own after she finished training. She’s got the same sort of effervescent spirit that Emily has; maybe I was looking for that even a year ago when I was training Mally. I know she wants a permanent Dom, and I’m sorry that none of the members have realized what a treasure she is and claimed her for anything more lasting than a scene.
“Would you be interested in anything longer term?” I ask Dana as I move across the room to retrieve a rack of crops and floggers.
“Matchmaking, Logan?” Dana asks with a husky laugh.
“Just looking out for the interests of a bottom I trained.”
Dana hums as she helps me carry the rack back across the room to set next to a half-pillory. “I think the sexual dynamics for something longer term are off.” When I lift an eyebrow at her, she shrugs and says, “There’s a spark, which is why I’m playing with her, but Mally’s not a lesbian and I think she’d struggle in a long-term relationship with a woman. We’re fine for scenes, but I don’t think it would work for more than that.”
“Mally always told me she was bi, but I’ll take your word,” I say. I figured, if anything, Dana would say Mally’s not enough of a masochist for her. Interesting that Dana doesn’t see that as the crucial hurdle. “You’re very clear-eyed about the whole thing.”
“I have to be. Remember Coral? We were together for nearly a year before she woke up one morning and realized she didn’t want to go to bed every night with someone who doesn’t have a penis. I’m not putting myself through that again.”
Damn, I didn’t know that. I remember the cute, curly-haired sub Dana brought when she was a new member, but I had no idea that’s why they split. Dana must have been devastated, but she never let on. I know some Dommes feel they have to out-macho Doms. I didn’t realize Dana, who is as tiny as Emily but effortlessly controls men twice her size with just the force of her personality, felt that way.
“If you’d ever like to have a longer conversation about that, I’d be up for having a coffee,” I say.
It’s her turn to lift an eyebrow. Then she nods, “I’d like that. Or maybe you and Emily could come over for dinner and a scene some night. I know you don’t share her, but I’m perfectly happy to play the voyeur.”
“That’s a date. Text me when’s best for you and we’ll be there.”
Dana flashes me a grin. “Anything else we need to punish this poor excuse for a submissive?” She runs her long nails through Pence’s no-longer-carefully-styled hair, grabs a handful and drags his head back so his face is tilted up to hers, although he keeps his eyes averted. “Landed yourself in hot water, didn’t you? You’ve never agreed to play with me, but punishment’s a different beast. I hope whatever Master Logan has in mind lets me ream your ass with the biggest strap-on I can find. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, bad boy?”
Pence gulps and his eyes dart to me before he nods, yanking against Dana’s hold on his hair.
“He lying?” I ask her. “Because he’s already on two strikes.”
“No, afraid not. His pupils dilated.”
“Too bad. Three strikes and he goes in a cock cage for the duration. I think we just need a plastic sheet and a few towels then we can get him set up.”
“I know where those are.” Dana releases Pence and walks off, impossibly graceful in her stiletto boots. She returns a minute later as one of the waiters from the restaurant appears, carrying the bucket of ice I requested.
We spread the sheet on the floor behind the wooden pillory. I pile the towels at one edge of the sheet, ready to mop up whatever leaks out of Pence during his punishment, and I intend for there to be a lot of leakage, then gesture Pence to rise and take his position on the wooden frame. I don’t lead him there, or coax him with touches, the way I would with Emily. This is punishment. He moves slowly, grudgingly, and I can see he’s lost whatever good the humiliation in the hallway did him.
Time to get him back in the right mindset.
As I lock the upper bar of the pillory over his wrists and adjust the chin-rest, I tell him, “My submissive, who you called a ‘widdle baby,’ reads poetry in her spare time.”
“That’s quite an intellectual activity for a widdle baby,” Dana observes, as she circles the pillory like a shark.
“Yes, it is. She reads her favorite poems aloud to me, and I’ve become a fan of Robert Frost. One of his poems goes like this: ‘Some say the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate, to say that for destruction ice, is also great, and would suffice,’ ” I pause to let the implications sink into Pence’s thick skull. “I like that. Fire and ice. I think we’ll put that to the test tonight, and you can tell me which wrecks you the most. But first I’ll give you a choice. You ready?”
Pence nods. He doesn’t try to look up at me, but I doubt that’s because I ordered him not to look at anyone. He’s not even trying to please me.
“I think we need a posture collar here so the boy’s not in any doubt where to look,” I say to Dana.
She grins, a knife-edge flash between the blood red of her lips. “I know the perfect one. Excuse me.”
She sidles off again, and I go back to the unrepentant little shit.
“While she’s getting you a collar, I’ll give you a choice in your punishment, Pence. Option one, you take whatever I dish out for an hour. After that, for an hour, any member can punish you, but only with a flogger or crop, and without drawing blood. No cock cage and you can orgasm if you can manage it. Two hours and you’re done, but you’re at my mercy for one of those hours.” Dana might be disappointed if he picks this option, but I doubt he will, so her ass-reaming plans are probably safe. “Option two. I only watch, but any other member can punish you any way they want, up until closing time. You wear a cock cage until midnight. After that, it comes off and you can orgasm if you can manage it. So, you’re clear, that’s six hours, four in a cock cage. No one will breach your hard limits under either option. Don’t answer immediately. You have a minute to think about it. Then your restrictions are lifted. You can look where you like and talk.”
He frowns, not looking at me, and I’m not sure he’s thinking, either. Still not really trying. I walk away from him to arrange a pair of backless couches so I can watch him, either for an hour after I’m done with him, or for as much of the six hours as I care to watch, since no matter what he chooses, I’m not keeping my little girl up past her bedtime.
The loungers all have long straps attached underneath for securing wriggly little subs, but the straps work just as well to fasten two couches togethe
r to make enough of a bed that Emily and I can lie, and fuck, on while we watch Pence get what’s coming to him.
Because Emily’s pain isn’t the only pain that turns me on.
As I’m binding together the loungers, Dana returns with the posture collar, buckles it on so Pence’s head is tilted up, his chin supported, then comes to stand next to me and asks, “Out of curiosity, what insult did this wayward submissive give you?”
“Yes,” booms a man’s voice. “I’d like to hear that, too, Logan.”
I lift my head and nod to Harold as he enters.
There are a lot of colorful stories about the older Dom. That he’s a vet of a South American war so secret, no one even knows who he was fighting for. That he used to belong to a one-percenter motorcycle club somewhere upstate. That he was a male stripper in the Florida clubs long before Magic Mike made male strippers sexy. I’ve never asked Harold about any of the rumors, although I know he owns a Harley, because I’ve seen him ride it into the club’s parking lot. I also know he has quite a few scars, some of which could be bullet wounds, because I’ve seen him naked more than a few times. Neither his bike nor his scars make any difference to me; he’s just a strong, solid top whom I respect and have looked to as a mentor for the seven years we’ve known each other, even though we don’t lean in the same direction.
“Nice to see you, Harry,” I say. “Sorry to disrupt your scene.”
He shakes my hand and helps me buckle two straps together. “No problem. How’s the leg?”
“Improving, thanks.”
“Your girl delivered your invitation. She’s a good girl. Polite and respectful.” He nods at Emily, who has followed him into the room and is standing out of the way, holding Pence’s hard limit list between her hands, waiting for me to acknowledge her. “What’s the brat in trouble for?”
I explain, keeping my eyes on Emily to make sure hearing the insults again doesn’t trigger her. While I’m speaking and after I give her the nod, she takes the laminated list and hangs it on a hook on the end of the pillory so everyone can see it. She returns to stand by me. When I get to the part about Pence shaking his dick at her, she shifts her weight from foot to foot, but otherwise doesn’t react and stands silent, with her head down and her hands clasped behind her back. My sweet girl.
