Dark Xanadu (6 page)

“Fucking hell,” she heard Gerald saying. He sounded really angry, and she was aware she couldn’t defend herself against him. Genna had told her she’d be safe but surely it would take people some time to react.

“Don’t touch me!” she yelled. “Don’t you fucking dare touch me.”

“It’s all right Angela,” said a voice, calm but with an edge behind it. “Give me that flogger or drop it, Gerald, I don’t care which.” Kent’s voice.

She heard the sound of it dropping on the ground. “I didn’t do anything against her limits,” Gerald said.

“Didn’t say you did. But she called the club safe word, and that’s it for the scene. I’ll get her down. You take a walk, cool down, and look for me when you get done.”

“Bitch.”

“That’s enough Gerald. Walk. Now.”

She heard him stomp away. She felt Kent’s hands at her wrists as he undid the cuffs around her wrists. Her arches thanked him. Wearing heels was bad enough.

“You picked a real winner, didn’t you?” Kent scowled. “Never mind that. I’ve got you now.” He knelt behind her, taking the cuffs off her ankles. She pulled her skirt down, aware that her ass was in his face.

She was free. She wanted to be held, to be told that everything was okay, but then there were a lot of times in life like that, and for two years she’d been getting through them on her own. Gerald’s words rang in her head.
No one here will ever want to play with you again.
She didn’t even really want to turn to face him, but he took her hand and nudged her shoulder so that she would have to push back against him to avoid turning.

His eyes locked with hers. “Are you all right now?”

She nodded. “I’m okay. I just…I freaked out, I guess.”

“What did he do to you?” Kent’s voice was level, but there was an undercurrent of anger there. Anger at her? She realized with relief that wasn’t the case. He was angry at Gerald. She remembered what he had said the first time she’d set foot in the warehouse, warning off Genna and Brennan.
She’s under my protection.

Still, it was embarrassing to explain. “I didn’t…I didn’t want to be exposed like that, and he wouldn’t…I didn’t…I guess I’m being kind of a prude, with all these people naked, and all, but—”

Kent pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay. Everyone here has a right to dress the way they want to. Stark naked. Covered head to toe in leather. Even that guy over there in the polyester suit and tie. This place is about freedom.”

“But I thought it was all about giving up freedom. Slavery.”

Kent smiled. “Only a few of the submissives here would call themselves slaves. For most people, that word has a connotation of something full-time that extends past the bedroom and sex to every corner of their lives. Even that is something that happens of their own free will, because they want it. Submission and freedom seem contradictory to you, don’t they? But at the same time any of a number of people here would tell you that it’s when they submit to another that’s when they feel most free. Here they are free to be who they want to be, without being told that they’re not okay, that they aren’t conforming enough.”

“Oh.”

Chapter Four

Kent let her go. She’d needed comfort; that much had been clear. He doubted she usually started and stopped so much when she was talking. On the other hand, he was there to keep her safe, not to take advantage of her, as tempting as that was. He had a whole host of questions for her. “Let’s get away from the bondage cross and go talk in my office.”

She nodded, seeming to notice the crowd that had gathered around them for the first time. Some of them were simply drawn to the drama, eager to know what they could to better gossip with their friends. That never changed. But others were waiting their turn at the play station.

Kent led her back to an office that adjoined the big public room. She looked up at the sword that hung over the office door, out of reach of all but the tallest men. It seemed like an odd thing to have in a BDSM place; too dangerous to be a toy. There were some Chinese or Japanese characters on the scabbard. She pointed at them. “What do they mean?”

Kent followed her gaze. “The rough translation is ‘To protect what one chooses to protect, so that life is worth living.’” He opened the door, and gestured her in. There was a gray desk in the office, one he’d had for a long time. It was army surplus after World War II, and it had been his father’s desk, made of steel and rubber and a royal pain to move. The thing would probably last longer than he did. He sat on the edge of it, not wanting to put it between him and Angela.

She looked between the red leather chair and the black leather couch and chose the chair. It left her looking up at him, which was fine. She crossed her legs demurely.

“So what are you doing here, Angela?”

“I was curious.”

“You weren’t very curious the other night, when I was showing you around.”

“I was surprised, and so I reacted.”

Kent nodded. “I should have warned you before I brought you here.”

Angela shook her head. “I would have never come with you if you had. It’s…” She seemed to search for the right word. “Fascinating.”

“By
it,
you mean bondage. Submission. All of that.” When she didn’t object he went on. “But you wouldn’t want to trust someone who was into any of that.”

Angela smiled slowly. “I guess that’s it. Kind of hypocritical of me.”

Kent shrugged. A lot of kinky folk thought they were screwed up somehow, and that therefore everyone else who preferred their sex out of the ordinary was screwed up too. Even if they were at peace with their own desires, it wasn’t always easy to believe that other people who wanted the same things might be good people, too. “Are you here as Gerald’s guest?” Usually people who knew each other weren’t quick to use the club safe word. They had their own safe words, for one thing, and more private ways to work things out. It was usually only when strangers played together that the dungeon monitors had to interfere.

“No. I met him for the first time tonight.”

“Okay, good. So whose guest are you?”

“Brennan’s.”

Brennan. Kent gritted his teeth. Brennan didn’t need permission to date a woman he had been with before, and nothing he had done with Angela gave him any sort of claim on her. But he still wasn’t entirely happy about it. He took a deep breath. The fact was, it was his ego that was hurt by the fact that Angela had run out of the club as fast as possible less than two weeks ago with him, and now was back with someone else. “I don’t think Brennan would approve of you hooking up with Gerald.”

Angela shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t think Brennan would care.”

Brennan wasn’t one for long term relationships, but when he was with a sub he was at least as protective and territorial as Kent was. Kent very much doubted that Brennan wouldn’t care. “I think maybe you ought to check with Brennan. If he brings a woman some place, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want her to go floating off.”

“He didn’t bring me.”

Kent raised his eyebrows.

“I just talked to him at the door. He made me his guest because it was the only way he could let me in, but he was just being nice to me.” Angela got up. “I’ve caused you trouble, and I’m not even a member of your little club. I’ll throw myself out; you don’t need to.”

He wasn’t going to let her run again that easily. “Wait.”

She turned and looked at him. “What?”

“You came here wanting to learn about yourself.” He got up from the desk and stepped forward. “You came here wanting to learn more about the world of BDSM. It’s not something you can explore all by yourself. You need someone who knows what they are doing, especially if you’re a submissive.”

“Yes.” Angela breathed. He hoped he wasn’t imagining the meaning behind the way she looked at him. Her smile was thin. “Do you have someone you’d like to recommend?”

There were a number of Doms on the east coast he trusted, people he’d recommend to almost anyone new. Brennan and Charles were two of them. He had no intention of letting any of them play with Angela. “Let me show you, Angela.” He stood close to her now, only a few inches between his chest and hers.

Her shoulders dropped slightly as some tension went out of them. She looked up at him, and then grinned. “I told Brennan I was your guest, but he couldn’t believe that you wouldn’t have told him.”

Her grin was infectious. “So basically, you tried to bluff your way past him, my little brat?”

Angela shrugged. “Well, yeah.” Again, she grinned up at him impudently. “You going to punish me for that?”

Kent shook his head. Punish her? Nothing could be further from his mind. “Nope. I like a girl with spunk. But next time I’ll let him know you’re my guest. It still seems unlike Brennan to turn you loose in that room, though. Unless he thought you’d come straight to me.”

Angela didn’t say anything. After a few seconds, she dodged his gaze. There was something more to it than she was letting on. Was she protecting someone, most likely Brennan?

“Angela, do you want me to be your guide? If you don’t, there are other people who could do it.” He hated putting it that way, because even though he barely knew her he knew that watching her with someone else would be painful. But he was pretty sure of her answer, and it was best if they were absolutely clear about it.

“No, I would like you to show me.” To his surprise, she sank to the ground in front of him, kneeling, her knees a few inches apart, hands on her thighs. She looked downward.

His breathing reacted instantly. So did his cock, but he wasn’t going to let it do his thinking for him. “First of all, look up at me. I want your eyes on me at all times, unless I ask you to look elsewhere, understood?”

Angela looked up and nodded.

“Secondly, where’d you learn to kneel like that? Books?”

“I’ve read a few, but no. Genna walked me through it.” The moment the words were out of her mouth she looked as if she’d said something she wasn’t supposed to say.

“Did she now? Tonight, or have you two been conspiring?”

Angela hesitated. “Tonight.” She looked away.

“Eyes.”

She looked back up.

“Better. Legs further apart. Hands behind your back. Good posture, back straight, arched slightly back at the top.” He watched as she moved her body at his instruction.

“Now, I think I can guess the story, but if I’m going to be your guide, I need to be treated with a certain amount of honesty. I need to know what’s going on with you so that I can look after you. Brennan turned you over to Genna when you came in?”

“Not deliberately, but yes, it turned out that way. It looked like you sent her over.”

When did I do that? Kent wondered. Then he remembered when Genna was trying to point out someone at the door, and he hadn’t even bothered to look. “And how’d you escape from Genna to Gerald?”

Again she didn’t respond immediately. “She introduced me,” she said at last.

That was odd. Genna didn’t like Gerald; in fact she had pushed for him to be tossed from the club when people had made their initial complaints. So why would she introduce Angela to him? Nonetheless, he could see that Angela was telling the truth. He squatted next to her so that he could be closer to her eye level.

“Why do you think this position is a good position for submissives?”

“I don’t know,” said Angela.

“Then think about it, and guess.”

Angela took a deep breath. “I feel very vulnerable. My legs are spread in an unladylike way, but it leaves me open for you. With my hands clasped behind me, it’s almost as if I’m bound. And with my back arched back, I’m extra aware of my chest, and how you’re looking at it, Sir.”

He smiled, even though she’d definitely caught him ogling. “Sir. I like the way that sounds coming from your lips.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“I could just be your guide, you know, and show you things. But to show you best, I’ll have to make you feel the reality of it, Angela.” His voice was low, his face mere inches away from hers. He stared into her deep blue eyes. They were like sapphires, glistening.

“I’m feeling it, Sir.”

“Good.” He felt his cock stirring at the thought. “I’ll look at your body any time I choose. Is that understood, little angel?”

She let out a breath. “Yes. It’s understood.” She shuddered, but he could see her nipples poking at the fabric of her T-shirt. She was blushing, too. And when he touched her neck lightly, he could feel her pulse race. Her body’s reaction let him know what he needed to know.

Angela knew her face had to be turning all sorts of shades of crimson. How could kneeling there, being looked at, feel so right? They weren’t even doing anything. He was barely touching her.

“I’m going to say some words, Angela. And you’re going to tell me how those words make you feel. There is no right answer, no wrong answer. I’m trying to find out what it is that draws you here.”