now.”
“I’m sorry, I really am. But I need to get this last bit off my chest, and then you can take me home and…think about stuff, scream, cry, whatever. Okay?”
“God, how bad is this going to be?”
“I’ve been to the bondage club your therapist recommended. In fact, I’m a member of Twilight. Although everyone there knows me as Mistress Raven. I, uh, wear a wig.”
Mistress Raven?
That was it. Wynne’s life had just moved from hellacious to bizarre. What was going to happen next? Were aliens going to abduct her? Was the world going to be struck by a giant meteor? Was her father going to call her after twenty-some years and tell her he loved her?
“Do you think I’m a sex addict?” Kristy asked.
God, Wynne wanted to just crawl in a hole now. “No. Like I said, I was just upset—”
“Do you think I’m sick because I like to dominate men and women? Play bondage games?”
“No, of course not. We’ve known each other since we were in diapers. I know you’re not sick.”
“Good. Now that we’ve settled that, I’m going to ask you a favor.” Kristy gave her a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile, which made Wynne’s insides twist into a knot. “As your best friend. Come with me to the club. One time. Do it for me.”
“Kristy, I can’t. I just…ohmygod. This is a lot to take in all at once.” Wynne dropped her head, resting her forehead against the steering wheel.
“Sure it is. We’ll talk more about it later. After you’ve had some time to recover.” Kristy patted Wynne’s knee, just like she had a million times before. But this time Wynne’s body stiffened. Seeming to sense Wynne’s reaction, Kristy lifted her hand. “I’m not going to stop nagging you until you agree to go….”
“But—”
“You won’t have to do anything. Just watch, talk to some people….”
“Kristy, I can’t—”
“…and we can make up some kind of story to tell people so you’re not embarrassed.”
“That’s not the problem. I mean, it is, sort of—”
“It’s for your own good. I think your therapist is right.”
Dammit, she was going to lose this battle of wills, like she always did. When necessary, Kristy could be a real bulldog. The girl was also an accomplished manipulator.
“You’re going to make me beg, aren’t you?” Kristy gave a martyred sigh. “You don’t love me anymore.”
Dammit, if only she didn’t love her lesbian-bondage-mistress-manipulating best friend so freaking much. Wynne rocked her head to the side, sending Kristy some sad eyes. “Stop. Please.”
“I’m not going to stop until you agree to go. Just once. For me. I want you to get past this, and I need you to understand me, too. Until you do, things are going to be weird between us. You know that, right?”
So much for the sad eyes. Wynne inhaled. Exhaled. She’d needed that oxygen. Her head felt a little clearer. “Fine, fine. But give me a while to prepare. A month or two.”
“A week.”
“Two weeks.”
“Done.”
Oh God.
2
“Rumors are that Master Zane has broken the club’s rules several times, leading to at least one submissive seeking medical care for injuries,” Rolf said as he led Dierk on a quick tour of the club. He stopped inside the main dungeon, kicked a booted foot up onto a bench. “Since I wasn’t here at the time, I can’t verify or dispute the rumor.”
“I’ll have to keep an eye on him. Do we keep pictures of our members?”
“Yes, they’re kept in our computer. The receptionist out front checks every person in, and if she doesn’t personally know them, she checks the picture in the system.”
“Good. I’ll take a look at the photos when we get back to the office.”
“He’s easy to pick out in a crowd. He’s a dark sonofabitch, with straight black hair. Pulls it back in a ponytail. His eyes are the color of coal, and his mouth is always twisted in a sneer. Looks mean and has a reputation to match. Some members tell me the guy’s trouble. Personally, I haven’t had any problems with him. I’ll tell you this: the submissives, especially the humans, can’t seem to resist him, despite his rep for ignoring limits.”
Dierk shook his head. That he would not tolerate, especially if the guy had actually injured a submissive he’d been playing with. No Dom had the right to ignore a submissive’s limits, ever. Especially when it came to an issue of safety. Every Dom worth a damn knew a submissive’s safety was his responsibility.
Safe. Sane. Consensual. Those were the three pillars of their world. If any one of those three were knocked down, the whole damn thing would come crashing to the ground.
What the hell was the guy thinking?
Dierk’s nerves were twitchy as he checked the equipment, making sure it had all been maintained properly, cleaned, and sanitized. Meanwhile, Rolf continued his monologue about each member of the club, ending with a human Domme who called herself Mistress Raven.
Dierk glanced at the clock before he checked the last piece of equipment. Ten minutes and it would be sundown. The club would open. And this room would be full of humans and immortals, tops and bottoms, stripping away their everyday identities to become the Master, slave, Dom, or submissive of their fantasy.
Rolf rested an elbow on a nearby support. “The private suites are leased by a handful of members, including Master Zane, who has the last room on the right.”
“Do we have keys?” Dierk asked, standing. Everything looked good. Nothing broken or needing repair.
“Sure.” Rolf cocked his head to the side. “They’re in the office, bottom desk drawer.”
“I want to take a look at his suite before he comes in tonight.”
“Good idea.”
Dierk headed toward the office, his brother trailing close behind. “What about cameras?” Dierk asked.
“We don’t have any in the private suites, if that’s what you mean.”
“I want some installed tomorrow. But I don’t want the members to know. I don’t trust anyone else to handle this but you. Will you find someone to come in and install them for me? We need a mortal company who can be here before sunset.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks.” Dierk unlocked the desk drawer, snatched up a ring loaded with keys, and headed toward the private suites. “You ever watch the sonofabitch play? Is he intentionally ignoring his submissives’ limits or is he just getting carried away?”
“Hard to say. Like I said, the guy looks like he would take on a demon without thinking twice about it. Hell, he might be a demon, for all we know. He’s immortal, but I can’t say for sure what species. But, as mean as he looks, I’ve never seen him get outta line.”
Dierk unlocked the door and stepped inside. Behind him, Rolf snapped on the lights. A quick look around, and Dierk had the guy summed up. Hardcore sadist. Among his toys, Master Zane had a large and wide assortment of torture instruments, more than he’d seen in one place before. There was the standard—ropes, floggers, paddles, masks, and leather restraints—as well as needles, nails, enemas, equipment for electro play, mummification, and water torture. This was not a Dom for a new bottom. His taste ran to the extreme side of S and M.
Dierk was no angel, had