Clifftop Fantasies [BDSM Menage Fantasies] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (15 page)

“A lot. We could turn this place into a fetish resort. People would come here to learn BDSM, to work on their relationships away from their everyday lives, and to experience things that they might never get the chance to experience otherwise. We could have workshops, events, speakers, a private photo studio. Submissives could come here and be taught how to do service for their dominants. Dominants would come to learn tools to make their submissives more successful. It would be a safe environment for people who want to try new things or learn new skills.”

Allie was still confused. “But how could I teach anything? I don’t know the first thing about any of that.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Karl said seriously, “It’s time you learned about who and what your father really was. Are you ready?”

Chapter 14

Allie’s eyes widened as she stared at Karl. He looked back at her, thinking how beautiful she was. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and shield her from anything that might be disturbing, but this was something she needed to know about. It might make her uncomfortable, but it was time for her to grow up and hear the truth.

“My father was a photographer,” she said slowly, apparently trying to convince herself there couldn’t have been any other aspects to him than that. He could see the shadows of worried thoughts flashing through her head. Her eyes flickered as if she was trying not to panic, wondering what kind of horrible things he was going to tell her.

Karl nodded, arranging his face in what he hoped was a casual, reassuring expression. “Yes, he was, and an excellent one. He was also a leader in the BDSM community and had a large leather family.”

“A leather family?” Allie gulped. “What does that mean?”

“It means that he was the dominant, or ‘master,’ for several people, including Jane, and mentored many others, like me, in the lifestyle.”

She glanced around, obviously trying to reconcile her ideas of her father’s life with what he was telling her. Then she turned back to him, her eyes narrowed slightly. “But I came to visit him…” she began as if she’d caught him out in a lie.

He smiled. “Yes, three times after he moved in here, if I remember correctly. You wouldn’t believe the amount of work it took for us to hide all of the kinky stuff and go find places to stay so you wouldn’t guess anything about his lifestyle. He was terrified you would tell your mother and he wouldn’t be allowed to have any contact with you at all.”

He thought he saw a hint of tears in her eyes as she sat completely motionless, processing his words. Her face seemed on the verge of collapse, and he desperately hoped she wasn’t going to start crying. He would have no choice then but to take her in his arms and comfort her, and God only knew where that would lead. It simply wasn’t time for that kind of intimacy between them yet. Soon, he hoped, but now it would only look like he was deliberately making her feel emotional so he could take advantage. He clenched his hands together in his lap and tried not to think about how soft she would be and how wonderful it would feel to pull her into his arms, holding her as if he could block out the entire world.

“I had no idea.” Her voice was so soft he could barely hear it. “I was so blind and so self-centered I was completely unaware of the trouble he went to just for those short visits that didn’t seem to mean anything to him. I feel like a complete asshole.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It almost never occurs to teenagers that their parents’ lives could possibly be interesting. It really was for the best that you weren’t aware of any of it. Besides, you not knowing was kind of the point.”

She seemed to accept that, although her sad look didn’t change. She sat in silence for a minute, and he knew she was remembering the past and realizing that very few things had been the way she’d assumed they were.

Then a new expression came into her eyes. They seemed to snap back to the present, or maybe the future, and there was a determined set of her shoulders as she straightened up and faced him again.

“Okay, so tell me about that part of his life,” she said.

A huge sense of relief washed over Karl. She wasn’t going to bury her head in the sand and refuse to acknowledge anything different than what she considered normal. He let out a breath. He’d had faith that Allie would eventually accept her heritage, that there was a part of her that would be drawn to alternative lifestyles. But she had adopted such a traditional, vanilla worldview that it could have gone either way. He felt a smile spreading over his face, and she answered it with a tentative one of her own. She still wasn’t sure, he knew, but at least she was willing to listen, and that was half the battle. Then she could decide for herself what path she wanted to pursue.

“He was a real leader,” Karl told her. “People came to him from all over, wanting to learn from someone who knew about leather history and customs, and to see his library. He had a knack for helping them discover what they wanted and needed most from their lives. The people who loved him were passionate about helping him accomplish his mission, which was to keep alive the values of the leather community. He knew the meaning of service as well as how to guide people to find their own journeys. When I look at you, I see the same qualities that he had. I can help you explore your submissive side
and
become a leader, if you’re interested in learning.”

“But I’m not a leader.” She sounded almost horrified at the idea.

“I disagree,” Karl said seriously. “You would make an excellent dominant. Think about how you felt earlier when you gave Brad that ultimatum. You were forceful, direct, but not cruel. You told him what his choices were and where you stood. Didn’t it feel good to take charge of the situation?”

Allie nodded slowly, and he went on, feeling a growing hopefulness. At least she hadn’t run screaming out of the house. Yet. “Now, it is about much more than just being in charge or issuing orders. It’s about helping those that look to you to become more than they would be on their own.”

“That’s great, but what you said about being submissive—”

“A person can be both,” he said, his voice lowering to its sexiest tone. “In fact, it’s a very good thing for a dominant to be submissive to someone else, at least for a while, so that they understand both sides of the equation. Some people have both a master and submissives of their own. It all depends on the relationship you want with any given person. If you, for example, were dominant with some people, say in order to run this place as the kind of resort we’re talking about, you would probably need to be able to let that role go occasionally. It might be an excellent way for you to release the tension of your responsibilities to have someone you want to be submissive to. That’s what is referred to as being a ‘switch.’”

She gazed at him, her face going red. He had a sudden image of Allie kneeling in front of him, offering her body to him for his pleasure. A flood of sexual desire washed through him, stronger than he’d experienced in years. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to calm his feelings and his cock, which had come alive at the brief fantasy. It isn’t the time, he told himself firmly.
She’s not ready. I don’t even know if she feels that way about me.

But there was no doubt when their eyes met that she felt exactly that way about him. He could read the lust on her face, although it was mixed with a large dose of embarrassment and self-recrimination. She was fighting it with everything she had.

“Wait a minute,” she said suddenly. “You said that Jane was my father’s submissive?”

“Slave, actually,” Karl replied. “Or at least, she played at it. She was one of four that lived here with us for a while. That situation did not end well.”

“Slaves?” Allie’s voice went up an octave. “Are you saying my father had slaves? What the…” Her head jerked toward the door as if she was praying for Brad to come through it, ready to protect her. From him. He could have kicked himself for bringing it up, although he knew it was necessary to tell her the whole truth.

He physically had to restrain himself from reaching out to touch her, bring her back to the calm conversation they’d been having. “Don’t worry, it’s not like that. Slavery in the BDSM sense is more like a mentoring arrangement. It usually refers to a full-time relationship with a comprehensively negotiated agreement.”

“So there are levels of slavery?”

He ignored the sardonic tone in her voice. Keep going
,
he told himself.
It’s understandable that she’s skeptical at this point. You’ve started the discussion. You can’t stop now without losing her completely.

“Well, there are several levels of domination and submission,” he said. “If two or more people just get together and play, they might be referred to as top and bottom. When people extend their power-exchange roles into their everyday lives, they might consider themselves D/s, which is short for dominant and submissive, or if they like the imagery and role-playing, they might call it M/s, or Master/slave. It all depends on how they want to identify and what terminology is most meaningful to them.”

“So it’s all role-playing?” The tense set of her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she leaned forward.

“Yes and no. There is certainly an element of role-playing about it, but it can be used for very serious intentions as well. Many people see M/s, particularly, as a spiritual lifestyle. It’s very intense and teaches you a lot about yourself and your partner when you commit to taking someone else’s needs more seriously than your own, and having that deep and intimate a connection with them.”

“But Jane—was she…”

Karl smiled bitterly. “Not everyone takes M/s quite that seriously. Jane saw it more as a way to control your father, by constantly reminding him of the career she was ‘sacrificing’ in order to live here and help him with the household. She tried to force him to make her the CEO of his business, telling him that she was more qualified to run it and it would leave him free to concentrate on his art. He finally gave in and let her take over things. Within six months it all ran into the ground. She drove off the other slaves and alienated his business contacts and most of the local leather community. His finances went to shit. She ‘invested’ in some companies that she said would make us millions. They disappeared with the money. Your father had to get a restraining order against her to get her out of the house. She sued him for the rights to her pictures, which comprised a large portion of his professional collection. By the time that battle was over and he had won, he had been diagnosed with cancer and it was too late to try to build his house back up. I tried to convince him to start again, run the house like I’ve been telling you to, but he just gave up and curled into a ball to lick his wounds and wait to die. It was a real waste.” He stopped to control the emotion that he could feel rising.

“So that was why—” she began, and Karl nodded.

“That was why he didn’t have any money left to leave you along with the house,” he said. “She cleaned him out, basically. We could never prove that she was behind the fake ‘investments,’ but she bought into a modeling agency last year, so I’m pretty sure that’s where the money went. I don’t think it’s doing well.”

They were both silent for a minute, each immersed in their own thoughts. Then Karl went back to the original topic. “If you’d like, I can take you to the local club this weekend and you can get an idea for yourself of what it’s like.” Her eyes went wide and alarmed. “It’s nothing to be nervous about. Almost everyone in the leather community is perfectly normal. They have full-time jobs, raise kids, pay taxes, maybe even go to church on Sunday. Nobody is being kidnapped or sold into sexual slavery, I promise.”

“What do they do there?” Allie sounded a little intrigued, in spite of her terrified expression.

“Well, some people just go to socialize, to meet with like-minded people. You’d be amazed at how good it feels just to be in the same room with people that share your perversions.” He laughed. “Then there are the people who go there to show off their fetish outfits, their bodies, or their submissives. Of course, lots of people go there to play, either because they like to be watched or because they don’t have any way to do it at home without kids or neighbors being able to hear.”

“Play? What does that mean?”

“Usually some kind of sensation or impact play. Bondage, wax, flogging, spanking, needles. There are all kinds of options. Sometimes it’s just to be able to express their D/s or M/s relationships in a public venue. But you’ll be surprised at how nice, and how normal, they are.”

He stood up and went to the door, racking his brain to come up with something he could say that would convince her he wasn’t as scary as she now seemed to think. But he knew if he said any more, it would just confuse the issues. She had to take the next step now. Either she would decide to find out more, or she would reject everything he’d said, and it would be time for him to leave. He hated the idea of walking away from her, but he wouldn’t try to push her into accepting a lifestyle that wasn’t right for her, and only she could decide that. “You think about it,” he said, opening the door and forcing himself through it. “I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have or introduce you to people in the community or whatever else will make you feel comfortable.”

* * * *