I considered that for a moment. “Yeah. I do. In fact, we’ll go to Dichotomy and I’ll show you around.” I took a few more steps toward the door and glanced at him over my shoulder. “And you can get up off your knees now.”
He smiled. “Thank you, Master.”
*
After I showered and dressed, I went to the kitchen to find Troy sitting on one of the barstools, his eyes glued to the paper in front of him.
“Did you have any questions?” I asked as I poured myself another cup of coffee.
“It says it expires after twenty-four hours.”
“It does.”
“Does that mean … so do we?”
I shook my head, then leaned back against the counter. “No. It’s merely a sample. I want you to see what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Oh.”
“Unless you require a contract to outline our relationship.”
He held my gaze. “No. I don’t.”
“Good.” I nodded toward the papers again. “Any other questions?”
Troy glanced down at the paper, then his eyes lifted to mine once more. “No. It seems straightforward.”
“And you have no issues with the nondisclosure agreement?”
“None whatsoever.”
Troy had already signed one when he came on as my personal assistant, but this was separate, so I was treating it as such.
While I stood there and sipped my coffee, he produced a pen and scribbled his name at the bottom. When he was finished, I set my coffee mug down and did the same before moving to stand beside him. He immediately turned to face me.
“I want you to know I don’t second-guess my decisions,” I told him as I once again slid my fingers into his hair. Admittedly, I loved the control I had over him, how easily he submitted. He didn’t hide from me the way Clarissa did. When it came to Troy, I could see every single one of his desires.
His eyes were locked on mine. “I know that.”
“And when I want something, I go after it.”
“I know that, too.”
Leaning forward, I allowed my lips to hover right over his. My body had hardened instantly at the thought of feeling his mouth on mine.
This was a pivotal moment in my life and I wanted to take my time. Considering I wasn’t an experimental teenager, this was going to mean something to me. I would likely remember this for as long as I lived.
After all, I had never kissed a man before.
Never experimented.
In fact, until Troy, I’d never even fantasized about it.
And I wanted Troy to be the first.
Hell, I wanted Troy to be the first and the last, but I wasn’t a man who set himself up for failure. There was no way to predict the future. I was merely a man who expected. I expected every damn thing to go my way, but even I could accept that wasn’t always within my grasp.
“You make me want things I’ve never wanted before,” I admitted, inhaling sharply when my lips brushed his. “I don’t know what it is about you…”
Troy moaned softly and that was my breaking point. I leaned in and kissed him. His lips were firm yet soft. The stubble on his chin rubbed against mine, a sensation I’d never felt before. When I licked my way into his mouth and his tongue met mine, I tightened my hold on his hair and pulled back.
“Don’t move,” I ordered, needing to be in control. “Let me explore you.”
“Yes, Master,” he muttered breathlessly.
I kissed him again, allowing my lips and tongue to discover every delectable inch of his mouth. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. So very different from kissing a woman. It didn’t feel taboo as I’d once expected. It felt right. Better than right, in fact. It felt natural.
Oh, fuck.
I wanted more. I wanted everything. Just like with Clarissa, I wanted Troy’s submission, but I also wanted—no, needed—his complete surrender.
When I was relatively satisfied—accepting I would likely never be fully satisfied, never getting as much as I wanted—I pulled back slightly. “Now kiss me back, boy. Like you’ve been dying to kiss me.”
“I have,” he admitted on a groan and my body hardened even more.
When I crushed my mouth to his, there was no hesitance. My tongue plundered his, our lips melding as we took as much as the other was willing to give. It was hard to believe I’d gone my entire life without this, without knowing how fucking good this could feel. Then again, I knew this had everything to do with Troy. I’d harbored a deep desire for him for so long, I doubted I would ever feel the same for another man.
When we both came up for air, we were panting roughly, and my dick was like steel, harder than I’d ever remembered it being.
Although I didn’t want to, I released him and put some distance between us, never taking my eyes off his. He looked as dazed as I felt. I considered that a good thing.
“All right, we can go to the club now,” I told him, doing my best to pull myself together. While I would’ve preferred to retreat to my bedroom, I had to work us both up for that. I had a feeling once I let myself go with Troy, he was going to see a side of me he might not be ready for.
He nodded, then sat up straight. “Ready when you are, Master.”
I smiled. “I fucking love the sound of that.”
Then, I leaned in and kissed him again because I couldn’t help myself.
Troy
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, MASTER PARKED in the parking garage attached to the building he’d pointed out as Dichotomy.
I was out of the car and around to his side before he got the door closed behind him. While I knew I was technically not on the clock, there was a switch that had flipped inside me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t turn off my work mode, wanting to ensure I was doing everything I could for my boss.
Perhaps more so now that I was his submissive.
Ransom joined us. The man was so damn quiet I sometimes forgot he was there. Well, right up until he made an appearance. At that point, it was hard to ignore him.
Master nodded toward the sidewalk outside the garage and I headed that way. “Do you have a plan while we’re here?”
“I need to talk to Sarah and Dylan, find out how the application process is going. Then I need to handle a few interviews they’ve set up.”
Admittedly, this was something I looked forward to. Not only was I experiencing this vast new lifestyle, I was going to get a glimpse into the business end of a club of this nature. Until our trip to Devotion, I’d never been inside one, much less understood the inner workings.
“I take it there’s a lot of interest in this place?”
“More than I expected,” he said. “I had to take Mercedes’s advice and implement personal interviews as well as extensive background checks.”
“And you said members pay hefty fees?”
“They do. But even if they can afford it, that doesn’t guarantee they’ll get in. Getting a membership at Dichotomy is harder than getting a weapon through airport security.”
That I believed. I knew firsthand how much Master protected the people he was close to. I could only imagine his club members would get the same loyalty.
“Let me know how I can help,” I told him as Master opened the door and allowed me to walk in before him.
Sitting at a desk in the small reception room was a pretty blonde with a sweet smile.
“Hey, boss,” she greeted, her eyes snapping over to Master.
“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked when the door closed behind us.
“We had a glitch in the system this morning,” she informed him. “But I got it worked out and put in some security measures to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”
Master nodded, then glanced over at me.
“Troy, I’d like you to meet Sarah Thomas. Sarah, Troy Shelton.”
“Your assistant,” she said, her eyes glittering as she shook my hand.
“More than that. And yes, I’ve decided to bring
him over to the dark side.”
She stared at me for a moment, but I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Probably what I was: What did the more in that statement mean?
“Welcome aboard,” Sarah said kindly.
“Thanks.”
“This is Ransom Bishop. He’s Troy’s bodyguard. You can expect to see him while we’re here. He’s also a member in Chicago, so you can pull over his information and get him an access card.”
“Of course,” she said quickly. “It’s nice to meet you, Master Bishop.”
Ransom nodded, but a word never fell from his lips.
“What are you doin’ here so early?” Sarah asked Master, her smile wide.
“Dylan talked me into a couple of interviews,” he told her.
She glanced down at the computer screen. “Those aren’t for another hour.”
“Yeah. Well. We had nothing better to do.”
It was obvious Sarah was teasing Master, which was a testament to their relationship. Although I hadn’t been privy to this side of his world, I had caught the mention of names over the years. I knew Master was quite fond of the people who worked for him.
“Of course you didn’t.” Sarah giggled.
“Troy’s gonna be here with me tomorrow night. I’ll need a packet for him to complete. And I’ve also got another guest coming,” Master informed her. “Clarissa Tinsley. Can you ensure she has a guest pass available?”
“Absolutely.” Sarah grabbed a notepad after passing over a stack of papers.
“Her paperwork is on file at Devotion,” Master explained.
“Sub or Mistress?”
“Sub,” he answered easily while I watched the back-and-forth between them.
“Do I associate her with a specific Dom?” Her eyes shot up to Master’s face and her surprise was evident. “Wait. Did you say Clarissa Tinsley?”
“I did.”
A smile curled her lips. “Does she have a Dom for Friday?”
“Yes. Me. And that goes for every night.”
That seemed to startle her, but she recovered quickly. “And Troy?”
“I am his Dom as well.”
Sarah’s eyes widened as she glanced up at me again. “Uh … okay, then. I’ll get it handled.”
“Thank you, Sarah.” Master motioned for me to head toward the single door that had a card reader mounted beside it. “Members are required to show their ID card to the submissive on duty so they can verify the picture matches the person. At that point, the members use it to unlock the door. When the club is open, we have a submissive doing a pat down. We don’t allow cell phones or cameras of any sort. I’m a stickler for privacy.”
We made our way into the club proper and I looked around the street-level floor. Like Devotion, it didn’t look like I was expecting. There were no torture devices anywhere. Instead, this place looked like any nightclub I’d ever been to.
“Relax, Bishop. I’ll let you know when we’re ready to leave, but that won’t be for a while.”
The big man nodded before wandering toward a set of stairs.
Master turned back to me. “This building was originally laid out for condominiums, but the developer changed his mind, believing the location to be unacceptable for the clientele he’d envisioned. I grabbed it up for a reasonable price, then gutted and redesigned.”
“How many floors?”
“Four. And a basement.”
I wasn’t up to speed on downtown development, but I knew from experience that most of the bigger clubs were near Deep Ellum, a popular hot spot in Dallas. Evidently, Master had opted to steer clear of that area, yet it appeared to be in a safe neighborhood, as well as a trendy area.
“Is the other location similar?” I asked as I scanned the room. “The one in Chicago?”
“It is. I was so impressed with the design of this one and the initial interest that I immediately got the second club underway. It opened a few months after this one, but it’s currently doing significantly more business.”
“And the one in New York?”
“If I’m lucky, it’ll be open by the end of the year.”
“You looking to make this a worldwide phenomenon?” I could totally see Master taking over the world with places such as this.
“No. Probably not. The third one’ll likely be my limit. I can only spread myself so thin. Since I insist on being an integral part of all of them, I know I have my limitations.”
He turned to face the open area. “This is the main floor. It allows for interactions amongst club members. More of a social setting than a play area.” He nodded toward the far wall. “There’s one bar—it serves pretty much anything except alcohol—and it’s managed by two in-house submissives and monitored by one of the Masters nightly.”
“No alcohol?”
“Alcohol affects consent,” he informed me. “In my world, consent is critical. I won’t allow anything to dull the senses and confuse that.”
Considering some of the things I’d read about, I could only imagine alcohol hindering one’s ability to make rational decisions. Since they were fond of things such as whips and floggers, it was probably better to be safe than sorry.
“Over there is a lounge area.” Master pointed toward the section complete with a big-screen television and a wide array of seating. “My intention was to create an atmosphere where people would come to hang out and relax.”
He directed my attention toward the large area along the left wall.
“That section is reserved for submissives. They have their own space to spend time if they aren’t invited into the lounge. That way their Masters can rest assured they won’t be sought after by others.” He shifted his hand to another area. “And for those unattached submissives who are looking for playtime, the lounge has a sectioned-off area where they can respectfully kneel while anticipating an invitation.”
“Do they?”
Master turned to face me. “Do they what?”
“Kneel and wait?”
“Of course.”
That was interesting. I had assumed the kneeling thing was only a Dom’s personal preference. Apparently, it was par for the course.
“Well, I like this space,” I admitted. “Not what I thought it would be, though. It’s clean and modern, open and airy.”
Master grinned. “That was what I was going for. Open and airy.”
When he headed for the stairs that descended into what I assumed was a basement, I followed close behind.
“This is what is referred to as the dungeon.”
Now, this was more of what I’d expected for a BDSM club. “A dungeon? Really?”
“Yes. And because I like the idea of a legitimate dungeon, I had it designed accordingly.”
Stone walls and concrete floors added to the ambience. The lanterns flickered as though they were lit by fire, but I could tell there were LED bulbs designed to mimic flames. No fire hazards there.
“How big is this place, anyway?” I walked from one end to the other while Master stood near the stairs and watched me.
“Each floor is four-thousand square feet. It’s only slightly smaller than the Chicago club.”
That was quite a bit of space. Not that I knew what an average club floor plan entailed, but it seemed Master hadn’t skimped on anything.
He motioned toward some of the things against the wall. “The equipment throughout is top of the line, designed for safety and convenience. Those roped-off areas allow an added measure of safety when necessary. Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”
As we started up the stairs, I glanced behind me once more. I wondered if Master had plans for me and Clarissa in this space. And if so, what did he intend to do to us?
We bypassed the first floor, then went up to the next. Master gave me a brief tour of the second floor, which, as he explained, had various themed rooms, ranging from a standard bedroom, the Wild West, Cleopatra’s inner sanctum, and everything in between. Some of the rooms were windowless while other rooms had g
lass walls.
“I assume the glass walls are for the exhibitionists?” That was how he’d explained the glass rooms at Devotion.
“Exactly.”
“And these rooms?” I nodded toward one of the smaller rooms. This one had maroon walls, a large recliner, sink, and shelves full of towels and other supplies.
“Aftercare. We’ve got an area that’s public, but I added the smaller rooms for those who may need privacy.”
He grinned when it was obvious I didn’t know what that meant.
“After a scene, a submissive requires care. These rooms allow some privacy for the Dom to ease any emotional stress that might’ve occurred during the scene. Some subs require time to come down from subspace.”
“Subspace?” I’d read the term, but I didn’t understand what it meant.
“A natural high some subs experience during an intensely physical or emotional scene. It’s a Dom’s responsibility to care for their submissive both during and after.”
“Interesting. All of it, really. And I like the layout. Very … kinky.”
Dichotomy was definitely impressive and seemed far more Master’s style than Devotion.
We continued up to the third floor.
“This floor has the training room”—Master motioned toward a large room to our left—“as well as several conference rooms. In Chicago, the third floor has the men’s and women’s locker rooms. Here, they’re on the main floor.”
“And that door?” I asked, motioning toward the one room he hadn’t mentioned.
“It’s for the club’s Masters. Off-limits to submissives.”
I figured that had to be where Ransom had disappeared to.
“Access to this level is maintained by a security code that changes quarterly and is provided to the club’s Masters, which is a level of membership that can only be obtained by nomination, followed by popular vote and acceptance from the Dom. There are a few I’ve hand selected at start-up though.”
“And those stairs?” I asked, pointing toward the stairwell on the far side of the room.
“That’s the fourth floor. My personal space. I have an apartment up there.”
“Ah. Is that where you stay when you come to the club?”
Their Famous Dominant Page 27
