by Selena Kitt
"0.996%"
Julie laughed. "She's a computer and math whiz, Colt, you had to ask."
"Will it make you feel better if I tell you two of the five members are on assignment out of the country?"
"Yes." It did, as did the fact that in the six months that she'd worked at NSWC Coronado, she'd never seen him once. That made her feel better about being found out. "Tell me again how this works."
"Easy. The whole point of this night is to bring in new members, mostly new submissives. Many of our members, the oldies but goodies like me and Colt, are married now, which has thrown our available sub to dom ratio out of whack."
"Master Eric likes to keep the numbers fairly even," Colt added.
"Master Eric?"
"The managing partner and the club's master dom."
"He runs the place. I used to think he was scary, until he married recently. He's mellowed a lot since meeting Val."
Colt barked with laughter. "Don't spread that around, either of you. He'll kick us all to the curb. Being called a mellow master dom would be a hit to his reputation."
"I'm not the only one who's noticed," Julie told him.
"Let someone else dare to mention it to him then."
Cassie watched this back and forth, but not knowing who they spoke of, she tried to get them to refocus. "So, tonight, all participants in the meet and greet are in specific costumes?" she asked, although they'd been through it already.
Julie answered with the utmost patience. "There are four themes: doctor and nurse, sheik and harem girl, Tarzan and Jane, and yours, which obviously is teacher and teacher's pet. I was secretly hoping you'd get carried off over some half naked hunk's shoulder, but Colt vetoed jungle girl because of the costume."
"I didn't think you'd approve," he explained, "at least not on your first visit."
"I can't imagine it being worse than ruffled white panties that show underneath my skirt," she grumbled, while shifting again on the leather seat and tugging uselessly at the migrating hem. Cassie shot a glare at the back of her friend's head because her red and black plaid pleated schoolgirl skirt was so short it could easily have doubled for a belt. "I'm sure Jane and the nurse at least get to have their asses covered."
"Don't bet on it," Colt said with a chuckle. "The costumes were chosen purposely to be revealing and provocative. The nurse's uniform consisted of a skimpy figure hugging white dress, lace garters, hose, and stilettos—sans panties. And Tarzan's sub will be in a one-shouldered breast baring rag dress."
"And the harem girl?"
"Although covered, the entire costume is see-through."
"Everything?"
"Entirely see-through," he repeated. "You'd have been essentially naked."
Cassie blinked. "I suppose I should be thankful to have panties."
"Yeah," Julie giggled. "Isn't he thoughtful? He signed you up for the most conservative costume and the only one that allowed underwear."
"It was a preemptive measure," he explained. "I didn't want her bailing on us before she even got in the car."
Grateful that she had dodged those bullets, she suddenly frowned, having expected newbies to be dressed in something virginal, maybe a white bustier and lace panties, or a pink baby doll nightie. Not bare boobs and their asses hanging out. "I thought this was for new subs."
"New to the club, honey, not the lifestyle," Colt explained patiently.
"Oh." She swallowed. "So the doms will think I'm experienced?"
"Aren't you?" he asked, meeting her eyes in the mirror once more.
Regretting her rash decision and her call to Julie for the hundredth time, she looked away. "It's been a long time since college."
And after so much time, she was as nervous as though it was her first ever club visit. He was right; she wasn't a novice, rather a very rusty submissive who wasn't at all sure what she hoped to get out of tonight. Her emotions were still too raw over Flynn. Admittedly, she was lonely, tired of spending her evenings and weekends alone, or intruding on her friends though they never complained and went out of their way to include her. Wasn't that pathetic? They loved her, yet she felt awkward always horning in on her friends' social calendar.
Turning her thoughts to tonight, she wondered what would be expected if she did meet someone. What then? Would he be understanding and be willing to go slowly? She was curious and would love a tour of the infamous club, and perhaps a light scene. But she wasn't one to jump into sex with a stranger, and she knew there would be other subs there that would. And she would need to negotiate, which she hated. She blew out a breath; it had been so long. What had she gotten herself into?
One thing was certain, she knew what she didn't want. She wasn't interested in becoming a slave, or being controlled to the point she would have to give up her career. She wanted someone who would care and call her on her crap as well. Like now, when she was worrying herself to a frazzle over a no pressure, BDSM mixer at an exclusive, members only club in LA, over two hours away from her home. Or when she got so involved in writing code for a software program that she forgot to eat. Or when she became so upset about never finding something like Julie had, that she ate a whole tub of Moose Tracks ice cream. She was a mess and needed someone who cared, would give her a little loving guidance, not to mention the kinky pleasures she craved.
Steely gray-blue eyes and a dimpled smile flashed into her head as did the fear that after Flynn, no one else would measure up.
"That's why you've got to put yourself out there again, honey." Julie soft voice pulled her back to the present. "Hiding behind a computer screen isn't doing a thing for your love life."
"Club Decadence is the place to find the dominant you're looking for, Cassie. It's not like the public clubs, with posers and wannabes looking for a cheap thrill or a hook-up. Our members are invested in the lifestyle. They have a wide variety of interests and backgrounds and everyone, including guests, are thoroughly vetted. The security is top notch, with surveillance and plenty of dungeon monitors making rounds. If you get into an uncomfortable situation, help is only a safe word away. And since you're under my protection, you'll have me to fall back on if you get scared tonight."
He was such a good friend; she was lucky to have them both. "Thank you for that, Colt."
"Try sir, for tonight, Cassie."
Julie turned back and winked at her. "They're big on titles and respect. Violators can be assigned public punishment, so watch what you say tonight, honey. Okay?"
"Now you're scaring me."
"Don't be," her friend assured her. "It's just a fun ice breaker event and a guaranteed way to meet new doms."
"Maybe you should go over the rules one more time."
Her friends shared a look and a smile, but indulged her, again.
"You will be given five ribbons and will be required to give one to at least five members with your corresponding costume. Meet, mingle, dance with whoever you like, then at midnight, which is reveal time, the masks come off and you have to choose a partner from those who hold a ribbon. That's your ticket for a tour and a scene in the dungeon."
"You can opt out, of course," Colt advised, his tone serious, "but that means you won't get to go beyond the lounge and bar. The idea is that curiosity will add a little incentive for newbies to select a play partner. Though remember, you negotiate for only what you feel comfortable with. If all you're ready for is a tour and a chat, that's fine. Or, if your limit is being tied to a cross while fully clothed, so be it. If you only want to observe a scene upstairs, also your call, as is going full out because you hit it off with someone. It is always up to you, Cassie. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"I have one rule of my own."
She met his eyes once more in the rear-view, waiting.
"Since you're my responsibility tonight, and because I care about you, I will ask that if you decide to play, you let me know who you're with and where you'll be. Understood?"
Julie peeked over the seat and nodded encouragingly. Her
master meant business.
"I understand, sir."
"Good." He then lapsed into silence as he took one of the many LA exits off the 101.
Chapter Five
"Scotch," he ordered when the bartender inquired. After he nodded and walked off, Flynn turned to the image of the crowd reflected in the floor to ceiling mirror behind the bar. The club was packed, as he knew it would be. Special events were always well attended, more so when the goal was to bring in new subs to the club and a masquerade twist always added to the fun and games. With all that on tap tonight, the membership had turned out in full force.
When he'd gotten the call from his old teammate a few weeks back, he'd declined at first. Then Eric, the SOB, reminded him that he wasn't getting any younger and he'd better start putting himself out there.
"We do have several exceptionally attractive subs your age, bud, or if you're looking for younger, we could set you up in the nursery and let you play daddy dom, or in your case granddaddy."
"Fuck you, Dupree. You're two years older than me, you bastard," he'd barked back, not really perturbed, and used to the ribbing from his longtime friend. It seemed ever since Eric had married his own submissive, and was apparently euphoric with happiness, he'd turned into a matchmaker and had turned his sights on his old teammate.
Eric had laughed, before turning serious. "After traveling for two decades, bud," he'd said over the phone, "you deserve some rewards. Now that you're stationed full-time at Coronado, why wait?"
And Eric was right. In the past twenty years, Flynn had spent more time abroad than on US soil. He'd never gotten involved in a long-term relationship because he didn't think it was fair to leave a woman waiting and wondering, not to mention needy. Now that he was established as a SEALs instructor, he could settle down and become exclusive if he wanted to. And he wanted to, if he could find the right woman.
A pair of blue eyes, soft lips and a guileless expression popped into his head, Cassie. Something was up with her and he didn't like it. She'd been avoiding him, practically snubbing him at the waterfront coffee shop the other night. He'd racked his brain trying to figure out why, if it was something he'd done. All he could come up with was Meyers' insensitive remark, which was the last time he'd seen her.
For her to cut him out so abruptly without explanation, ticked him off. If she were his, he'd haul her over his knee for a sound paddling until she did two things: apologized, and communicated what was going on in her pretty head.
As hard as he'd tried, he couldn't get the woman out of his head. Cassie filled his fantasies and starred in his dreams, like the one this morning. She'd been on her knees for him, as she'd been the other day, but this time she was naked and took his cock deep in her tempting mouth. He'd come with the vision of her lips locked around his dick, his skin slick from her agile tongue as he pumped into her eagerly, his hand tangled in the wet strands of her hair, while jerking himself off in the shower.
Thinking of it now, he was hard again. If she were his, he'd make her pay for tempting him all these months. He imagined her reaction if he called her into his office and did just that. Her eyes would get wide and her lips would part in shock, but being the good girl that she was, she'd obey him. He'd have her pull down the tightly fitted trousers she often wore and bend over his lap, enjoying the view as her panties stretched snug across her round bottom. As he pulled her in close, encircling her waist with an arm to hold her safely in place, he'd smile as she trembled, her upturned bottom quivering in anticipation. He'd stroke it lightly. Then he'd tug up on the delicate material, wedging it tautly between her cheeks and baring the fullness of her ass for his hand. The vision of those luscious globes jiggling with each sharp, quick smack had him shifting on his bar stool.
He tossed back his double shot and spun on his stool, looking over the crowd in desperate need for distraction. She is not for you, Dalton.
"You look in a foul mood." So lost in his spanking fantasy starring Cassandra Hardwick, he hadn't seen Eric take the empty seat beside him.
"I'll feel better once I can get rid of this tie and tweed jacket you insisted I wear."
His friend chuckled. "Stop complaining. You wear a tie almost every day and the tweed makes you look like the part of the teacher you're supposed to be playing." Eric turned to scan the crowd. "We've had an excellent turnout, which gives you at least twenty naughty schoolgirls to choose from." He nodded to a table to his left. "That brunette is quite lovely."
He shifted his regard to the sub in question. Tall, as he liked, she was a bit on the slutty side with her blouse open to the navel revealing the inner curves of her breasts. "I prefer a little more subtlety in my naughty schoolgirls."
"You're kidding, right?" Eric asked in utter surprise.
Flynn shrugged, but didn't elaborate, thinking Cassie would look fantastic in a plaid skirt and knee socks.
"Okay, how about the blonde over there? She's buttoned up to her chin all prim and proper."
He followed Eric's gaze and immediately shook his head. She reminded him too much of the woman he was trying to forget. "No blondes."
"You're not making this easy," his friend drawled with distinct irritation. "I've brought you to the trough, horse, now it's up to you to drink your fill." With that, he walked away.
Flynn sighed. He'd driven two hours to find a distraction; he might as well give it a fair shot. As he stood, he straightened his tie, ready to mingle.
* * *
"I'm a weekend player." Average height, okay looks, nice cologne, yet he was beyond arrogant, speaking as if it was a foregone conclusion that she would chose him. And the entire time, he didn't look at her face once; instead, his eyes were riveted to the front of her blouse, keying in on the hint of white lace bra showing underneath.
Julie had provided her skirt and ruffled panties; the blouse had come from her own closet. Going for the Britney Spears' "Baby, One More Time" look, she'd left several buttons undone at the top and bottom, knotting the shirttails over her navel. She'd done her fake red hair in twin braids complete with fuzzy hair ties. In an attempt to keep the daddy doms at bay, she'd added thigh-hi lace stockings beneath her plaid skirt instead of the knee socks Julie had supplied. She also added a pair of sexy black and white saddle shoes—again courtesy of her closet—the four-inch heels giving a boost to both her diminutive height and her flagging confidence.
By eleven o'clock she'd met at least ten teachers, giving up four of her ribbons, but not sure why. No one had really sparked her interest. One was an excellent dancer, but wanted a slave girl, full-time. Another had two left feet and had nearly caused a pile up on the dance floor when he'd tripped over both of them and lurched forward, with her in his arms bumping into a couple slow dancing beside them. The other dom had growled irritably as he assisted his partner off the floor, telling the poor man to spare them all an ER trip by having a seat at the bar. Her partner had flushed with embarrassment and excused himself. She'd then watched him fly out the door, trying with great difficulty to picture him in a dominant role. She simply didn't see it.
The other two had bought her a drink, bringing her to the two drink club limit. They'd then proceeded to bore her with talk of rules and protocols, not once asking about herself, not her name, what she was looking for in a dom, nothing. It was all about them and what they wanted, which was all well and good in a D/s relationship, but she needed to want to please them in return and she so did not.
"Naked weekends."
"Pardon me?" Mr. Average's comment snapped her back to the present and she realized she'd missed half of the conversation.
"That's what you can expect from me," he continued, not noticing her inattention. "Intense bondage: ropes, clamps, plugs, gags, as well as servitude." His eyes continued to roam over her chest. "You have magnificent breasts. They are perfect for a serving tray I found. It clamps tightly onto your nipples. While you serve me and my guests drinks with your hands bound behind your back, the weight on the tray will have you crying
pretty tears and begging for mercy from behind your gag. If that interests you—"
It doesn't, no way!
"—I'll claim you by the dungeon doors at midnight." He'd then turned and walked away.
"Arrogant putz," Cassie murmured under her breath. If that was his best offer, it was no wonder he was in search of a submissive.
A chuckle behind her made her turn. "Charles lacks a certain charm. Many of us have tried to work with him on his approach, to no avail." He shook his head as he shifted his gaze from the departing dom and looked down at her.
Stunned, her breath caught in her throat as she stared up into Flynn's smiling face. His tweed suit coat and tie wasn't much of a disguise, and unlike most of the other doms who played the game, he had eschewed wearing a mask, so there was no mistaking the gray-blue eyes or the black hair with the slightest hint of silver at his temples. Speechless with horror, she blinked up at him.
"Did he shock you, little sub?" he asked, his lips kicking up on the ends in a dazzling smile as the dimple in his cheek made an appearance.
That's when it hit her. He didn't know who she was. The wig and mask were clearly doing their job, not to mention he probably never considered his prim and proper IT geek from work would ever dare set foot in his club. While she sighed inwardly in relief, she also felt a sharp pang of disappointment.
She quickly averted her gaze, to be certain he wouldn't recognize her eyes, softly snorting at her immense ego, as if they were memorable. Clearly, she was no more noticeable at work than a chair or pencil holder on his desk.
"Would you like to dance with the teacher, pet?" His invitation was like something she would hear in her dreams. She wanted to, badly, but didn't dare risk it.
"Um, I'm not a very good dancer, sir." As she gave her excuse, she pitched her voice low in a husky tone of disguise just in case.
