Lucas squeezed me a little tighter for a
moment then released me.
“Let’s get you home,” he whispered. “I just need to let Ava
know what’s going on. I’ll only be a moment.” He smiled before
waving his key card over the wall panel and heading back into the
club. I thought I’d wait until we were home before I asked him to
fill me in on exactly what was going on. Then it occurred to me
that he might take me back to Angel’s apartment because he might
not want me at his now. I knew I deserved it after misjudging and
mistrusting him yet again.
A few minutes later, I heard the beep of
the door release and a very irritated looking Lucas emerged. “I
can
’t find Ava. She
wasn’t in her office and, when I checked, her car’s gone from the
car park. I’ve tried calling her but her cell’s switched off. I
haven’t told her I’ve closed the club for the day so she should be
here. It’s very unlike her.”
I almost shivered when I recalled her
pasty, scared face as she silently withdrew from the room earlier.
But I didn’t want to point out that it might be because she was
frightened after his outburst. “She’s probably running an errand or
something, or perhaps she’s grabbing something to eat. I’m sure
she’ll be back soon,” I said, sounding more confident than I
felt.
He ran his fingers through his rock star
mane and sighed with annoyance.
“Maybe. My gut tells me that something’s wrong. And now
I’ve sent the security team off to track down
your
friend
and I don’t have the keys and codes to lock this
place up properly.”
I almost winced at the sneering way he
pronounced the words
‘your friend’. I decided to ignore it but I needed to know
why he had so much power over the club’s security detail. “Lucas, I
don’t understand. I know that this must be the club that you used
to frequent when you were . . . well, when you were in a
relationship with Ava, but you told me that you haven’t visited a
BDSM club in years.”
“
That’s true,” he interjected. “Until
recently, I hadn’t.”
“
So when and why did you begin to frequent
the place again? And how are you able to bollock the staff and
order them around?”
He cocked his head to one side. “You know
why.
That reminds me, I
meant to ask you how you found out. Not that I was deliberately
withholding it. Well, I guess I was but . . .”
“
Lucas, I have no idea what you are talking
about. Seriously. What are you deliberately withholding?” I cried,
my irritation building.
He frowned and then I saw comprehension
dawn and his face relaxed. “I’ve just remembered . . . when we
talked earlier, it appears we both had our wires crossed. Come on,
let’s have a comfortable seat and perhaps a drink or two whilst I
explain.”
I still had no clue what he was referring
to and I could feel a headache building in the front of my head,
probably from all the drama and tension. A drink or two sounded
good. “Perhaps you’ll be kind enough to explain exactly what’s
going on with Scott too. And what, pray tell, are you going to do
with him when he’s found?” Despite Lucas’ sarcasm, Scott was my
friend and I was growing increasingly concerned for his
safety.
“
Come,” he said, firmly.
“It
’ll all become
clear.” He held up his key card to release the door and I followed
him over to the bar.
“
Where
’s the barman?” I asked.
Lucas shrugged. “Your guess is as good as
mine. The car park’s empty except for my car. Maybe he’s done a
runner too, though God only knows why.”
I shook my head slightly, unwilling to
rise to the bait—if that’s what it was. I had no idea why Scott
took off like that—except for the obvious fact that Lucas was in a
full-on rage. Perhaps Scott couldn’t understand Lucas’ overreaction
either and wasn’t willing to hang around to find out.
Lucas poured himself a generous
Scotch.
So
much for driving me home.
And me a Jack Daniels and coke. He then indicated for me to
sit on one of the couches near the bar. I complied and he sat next
to me. He took a long sip before placing the glass on the low table
in front of us. “Okay . . . oh, where to start?” he
muttered.
“The beginning?” I suggested with a small
smile.
He closed his eyes and settled back into
his seat. “Well, you’ve worked out that this is the club I
frequented for a while, years ago, as I experimented with my
dominance. I came and watched how D/s relationships were played
out. I was willing to listen to anyone’s advice about how those
relationships worked. I already knew that I was pretty open-minded
and adventurous, sexually. And I’d learned how to control my temper
by then. I was fascinated by the prospect of exercising
control—both over my own actions and the actions of my partner.
Throw in the kinky sex elements, and I was sold.
“
A few of the more experienced Doms took me
under their wings a little because I was genuinely interested and
wanted to do it right.
It’s a massive responsibility, to have a female truly
submit to you. I quickly found out that I had a good aptitude for
learning and then I began to gain the respect of those Doms. One of
them would hand his sub over to me so that I could ‘play’ with an
experienced submissive. I soon learned that subs might look like
they can be taken advantage of but that they don’t suffer foolish
Doms gladly. You have to gain their respect, get to know them and
their needs as well as knowing how to dominate a woman safely. It’s
a massive undertaking but it can bring untold rewards.”
I wondered what this had to do with
anything but I was enjoying hearing him tell me about his past so
candidly.
He didn’t open
up often so I kept quiet and just let him speak.
“
Anyway,” he continued. “I eventually
struck up relationships with single subs. None of them lasted very
long. I was new and didn’t feel confident enough to begin a
relationship with an inexperienced sub—I thought it too dangerous.
I couldn’t bring myself to do some of the more sadistic elements
that were demanded of me. I was too aware of how bad I’d felt when
I’d injured someone badly, remember. And that was another guy—I
couldn’t imagine how I’d feel if I hurt a woman like that. I don’t
think I could forgive myself.
“
Rough sex
is one thing but deliberate pain from things like
whipping and caning is a step too far. I wasn’t confident initially
about causing any pain but eventually, I could handle what I
thought of as pleasurable pain in small amounts, like nipple clamps
and forced orgasms for example, and gradually increased my
repertoire of those kinds of acts and my confidence grew. One of
the Doms agreed to mentor me and was doing a fantastic job, but
even he became frustrated at my inability to give a submissive what
she truly needed. I could spank for example, but only to a point
before I became concerned that it was going too far. At that point,
when you have a submissive begging for more and you can’t bring
yourself to deliver, you’ve lost her respect and she won’t truly
submit. Word began to spread and then I met Ava.”
“Was she the manager of Odyssey then?” I
asked.
“
Oh God, no. The club wasn’t even called
Odyssey back then and it was quite different from the club you see
today. There wasn’t as much supervision and control as there is
now. Not all the acts performed were truly consensual. There was no
control over alcohol consumption and the use of drugs like Rohypnol
wasn’t unheard of. Part of the building was little more than a
brothel with women on the payroll and with no regard for their
welfare or safety.
“
Ava was the submissive equivalent of
myself to a large extent.
Relatively inexperienced but keen to learn and do things
properly. We were drawn to each other for that reason as much as
anything else. Things were fine initially but, as I told you
earlier, the same issues reared their heads. This time, though, it
was me that ended it. Ava was keen to continue. She believed that I
just had nerves and my confidence would grow if I steadily
increased the amount of pain I administered each time. She didn’t
know about my past. She still doesn’t. I knew it wasn’t going to
work and I reasoned that if I couldn’t get past it with Ava, who’d
been brilliant about it—so patient and tolerant—then I never would.
She attempted to pursue me for a while but, as you know, I’m an
anti-social creature so she had no chance. I hadn’t even told her
where I lived, what I did for a living—nothing, and I’d only met up
with her in the club so she had no choice but to give
up.”
Ah
. . . unfinished business. No wonder
she’s jealous of me. Perhaps she thinks that Lucas has succeeded
with me where he failed with her. That explains her animosity
toward me.
“
But Lucas, apart from naming Ava, I pretty
much knew of your foray into D/s and why you’d stopped. I thought
you were going to explain about Scott and what you’re doing back
here.”
He picked up his drink and threw back the
contents. “I’m getting to that,” he muttered. “By that time, my
business was flourishing and I was constantly on the lookout for
new properties to buy and develop. It was by pure chance that I
bumped into Jack, the Dom who’d mentored me for a while, about a
year later. He told me that the club had closed down suddenly after
the owner had been threatened with legal action after a woman had
been tortured by a group of guys one night. The name of the owner
was a mystery to all of us because a place like this operates in
secrecy. Jack also said that he’d stopped frequenting the club, as
had most of the decent members, because it was no longer acceptably
clean or safe. All the owner cared about was money. So the regulars
had decided to visit another club but as it was almost a
hundred-mile drive from NYC it was less than ideal.
“
Then, a few weeks later, I was meeting a
business associate for lunch
and I ran into Ava. We chatted and the topic turned to the
club. Ava said she found it too time consuming to visit the other
club and, since there were no other reputable BDSM clubs in
existence at the time, she and several other subs had taken to
replying to advertisements online to meet potential partners. She
conceded that it was risky and because there was no club and she
didn’t have room in her tiny apartment for the required equipment,
it meant going back to the guy’s place. The risks of that were
massive. I don’t know whether it was because I felt guilty that I’d
let her down or—”
“
Oh my God, you bought it. You own Odyssey,
don’t you?” I cried. Immediately, the irritatingly evasive
information that I’d been searching for but hadn’t been able to
grasp popped into my mind. “Homer’s Odyssey . . . Orion the Hunter
. . . of course!”
He looked shocked but then shook his head
and smiled wryly.
“I
should have known you’d make the connection. Yes, Orion is
mentioned in the Odyssey, Homer’s epic poem and that’s partly why I
called the club Odyssey. But also, in the English language, the
word odyssey has come to refer to an epic journey and for true
participants of D/s, they undertake a massive journey. So it seemed
a fitting name.”
“
But why didn
’t you tell me?” I asked.
“
I didn
’t think it was important. I don’t usually set foot in
here. I don’t frequent it as a member or as the owner. I recruited
Ava to manage it for me and she takes care of it. I own the
building. She runs the business. Initially she worked with Carter
to design the security systems and she consulted with Jack to
ensure the club gave members what they needed in the safest
possible way. It’s an arrangement that works well,
usually.”
“
So why are you here now?
Hang on, when I came here with
Scott, I thought I saw your car—”
“
What?” he bellowed, jumping to his feet.
“You were here with him? When? And why the fuck were you here with
that loser?”
I recoiled from his anger. I took a deep
breath, deciding to remain calm and not inflame the situation
further.
“Scott
mentioned that he was a member one day. It was after . . . well,
just after Joel had paid me a visit. I told Scott I was interested
in visiting a BDSM club to see for myself what goes on so he
invited me along. I only came once . . . well except for today, and
that was only because I needed to speak with him after he’d told me
about you and Ava.”
“
I might have fucking known,” he
spat.
“I’ll bet he
couldn’t wait to fill your head with that pile of crap. He wants
you, Issy. Can’t you see that? He’s just trying to split us up. I
can’t believe you listened to that asshole. Why can’t you trust me?
Don’t you know me at all?” He glared at me and I could see the hurt
in his eyes. Before I could reply, he turned away and fetched the
bottle of Scotch from the bar, poured himself half a glass and
slumped into the seat next to me.
“
Of course I trust you, but Lucas, when I
walked in and saw you here—a place you said you no longer frequent,
with her draped all over you, what was I supposed to think? And, in
Scott’s defense, if he’s seen you two like that, no wonder he
jumped to the conclusion that there’s something going on. And you
can say that there’s nothing between you and Ava, but she wants
you, Lucas. She still wants you. You should’ve heard how she spoke
to me earlier. She hates the sight of me, although she knows
nothing about me. And as for Scott, if you didn’t know that he’s
the one who told me that there was something between you and Ava,
why the hell are you so pissed with him? You say I don’t trust you
but you keep me in the dark. I thought I knew you, Lucas, but now
I’m just not sure that I do.”