Authors: Delphine Dryden
she’d never forget. But it was the strap-on that sent him running.
That might not have been the best time to try to explain pegging. But she’d known
he was out the door anyway, really. And he’d called her a freak, and meant it in the worst possible way. His expression of horror when he thought she wanted to fuck him
in the ass with a dildo was entirely worth it.
“I’m just kidding, dipshit. I only use it to fuck other girls. See? It goes both ways.”
No, thinking back,
that
had been the thing that made him run screaming. But still, totally worth it.
It had taken months before she’d broken down and called Amie. She’d tried to
resist. She’d tried to find somebody else. But it was tricky, everybody already knew her at the one bondage club in town. She’d already been with most of the people she had
any remote interest in. Amie had been hands-down the best of that bunch, at least when it came to giving Mara what she needed in a scene.
Because you can do a lot of things to yourself, but you can’t give yourself a
thorough beating. And sometimes, nothing else would do.
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Delphine Dryden
Her fingers had tapped out half the phone number already. The number clearly
wanted her to dial it. Which meant that, deep down, she really wanted to dial the
number. She needed help, as much as she hated to admit it. Submitting to herself was so much harder than submitting to another person.
“Thank you for calling 1-800-DOM-help. This is the Operator. How may I be of
assistance?”
Whoever he was, he had one hell of a voice. Deep, controlled. He sounded like
every sub’s wet dream of a Dom.
“Hi. Sir. Um, a friend of mine gave me this card…?”
“Amie Templeton. Yes, I’ve been expecting your call.”
“You—okay, that’s kind of creepy.”
The dream voice laughed. He had a good laugh too. Soothing. “I’m going to put
you through to Dru. I suspect you’ll be more comfortable talking to her, Miss Tyndall.
She can answer any questions you have. Hold, please.”
Then there was elevator music for a few seconds, which wasn’t what she’d expected
to hear while on hold for a bondage helpline.
“Hello? Mara?”
“Um. Yeah, hello. How do you all know my name?”
“It’s nothing sinister, I promise. We’re just selective about who gets our number in the first place. If this is Saturday and we’re getting a call, it must be Amie’s friend Mara Tyndall.”
The woman sounded friendly enough. And Mara trusted Amie, and Amie said
she’d gotten the number from somebody
she
trusted. So…okay.
“I’m Dru, by the way. And I’m really glad you decided to call when you did.
Because I have a problem and could use
your
help, as it turns out. Are you free this evening, by any chance?”
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Roses and Chains
* * * * *
Mara was free that evening, as it happened. And while she might not enjoy
accepting help, she was sort of a sucker for giving it when asked nicely by somebody who really sounded like they were in a bind.
Which was how she found herself in a slightly dodgy part of town at about nine
that evening, pulling up to a valet parking attendant in front of a club she’d never heard of before Dru mentioned it.
Unfettered
.
Classy sign, polite valet,
huge
bald doorman who looked as if he was about to go fight the Leather Wars on some distant planet. And probably kick all kinds of alien ass.
Just inside the door, Mara was greeted warmly by a woman who looked a little bit
like a classed-up version of herself. A little taller, more curves, but the same coloring and the hint of Goth that went with it whether she liked it or not. Long black hair, fair skin, short red dress. Fishnet tights and some really killer boots, but she could have walked down the street without anybody knowing she’d come from a kink club.
She introduced herself as Dru, and it was clear she was in charge from the way she
walked through the place, leading Mara over to the bar and ordering a cup of coffee
and an ice water.
Mara felt a little over the top in a black leather corset, even with jeans still covering up the matching boy shorts. She hadn’t been sure how to dress, whether she should go the normal club route or wear something more conservative. Looking at Dru’s outfit,
she started to fear she’d gone the wrong direction. Though she was certainly covered up compared to most of the more obvious subs she spotted among the gathering crowd.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice, by the way.”
“I didn’t have plans or anything,” she said with a shrug. She’d taken a sip of the ice water before realizing Dru had ordered it for her without asking. Domme? If she was, she wasn’t pushing it very hard. Just in case, Mara added, “Ma’am.”
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Delphine Dryden
Dru’s mouth quirked up at one corner. “From what Amie says, planning isn’t your
strong suit. But that’s okay,” she reassured Mara. “It’s not what I need you for. I just need an experienced sub to help mentor a couple new to the lifestyle. With any luck, they’ll be arriving shortly. If you’re all right with that? We’re new to the area, so I don’t have a whole lot of contacts to work with in the community.”
“Oh. I guess so. What would I need to do?”
Nothing she hadn’t done before, most likely. Her usual club got new visitors from
time to time, some starting out and some just curious. It was a safe space to play, and she’d donated her back to a few relatively inexperienced floggers in her time. As long as they were closely supervised by somebody who knew what they were doing.
“Well, how far you go with it is really up to you. Primarily just show them the
equipment, explain anything they need. You’ll have a private room, but one of the
regular dungeon monitors will be on call if you need him.”
“I have to ask, wouldn’t
they
normally be the ones showing people the ropes?”
Dru smiled over the rim of her coffee cup. “I don’t have a subby monitor right now.
And I have a feeling this very new Dom might feel more comfortable with a female sub than with somebody like me or one of the other big Dom monitors who look like
bouncers. It isn’t intentional,” she shrugged, “but that’s who we have at the moment.”
Laughing, Mara looked around the tastefully appointed main room of the club.
There was some play taking place, nothing too heavy, and the two men she saw
standing nearby in
Unfettered
t-shirts were indeed big and practically oozed dominance.
“His wife is a little more confident and has more experience,” Dru went on. “But I
think that’s probably not helping. He needs a boost. In fact, to the extent you’re willing to play along with it, he probably needs to know he can be a Dom with a sub who isn’t his wife. He needs to realize he’s doing this for himself, not just for her.”
“I’ll do what I can, Mistress.” It had just slipped out. Mara tried to cover with
another sip of her water.
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Roses and Chains
“I’m not your Mistress, Mara,” her classier doppelganger said a bit too kindly. “You can just call me Dru.”
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Delphine Dryden
Chapter Five
Delia felt too jumpy, too aware of her surroundings. She wanted to let herself go, to follow Daniel. But she knew he was unfamiliar with the club too. What if he led her into a hallway with business offices, or out a fire exit that locked behind them?
He’s not an idiot
, she reminded herself.
And he definitely looked hot in the silky maroon shirt and black jeans. She’d
bought him the shirt but never thought he’d wear it. Seeing him in it had been a
pleasant surprise. Seeing him give her a look as if he were wearing it to
humor
her had been so hot it was unsettling. The look had said he would expect her to make it up to him.
And oh, how she wanted to.
She peeked around the club as she followed Daniel. It looked, frankly, quite a bit
nicer than the club they’d been to before. She wondered how long it had been here, and why she’d never heard of it before Daniel had told her about the phone call he’d made.
The wood was polished, the bartenders were cute. The doorman had been just scary
enough to keep out anybody who wanted to gawk.
“Are you Master Daniel?”
A soft voice stopped their progress. From her position directly behind her husband,
Delia couldn’t see the speaker. Which meant she must not be any taller than Daniel’s shoulder. Delia’s size, in other words.
“Yes. Are you Dru?”
“I’m Mara, Sir. Dru asked me to assist you tonight with anything you needed. She’s
reserved a room for you. I can show you back whenever you’re ready.”
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Roses and Chains
Delia stood on her toes for a second, but only caught a general impression of pixie-
cut black hair and very pale skin.
“Thank you, Mara. Can we get a tour first? It’s our first time here.”
“Mine too, actually,” she said. “I’m just helping out for tonight. But we can see
what’s happening on the floor. Sir, somebody keeps peeking over your shoulder.”
Tattletale
.
“Oh, I’m sorry. This is my wife Delia.”
He turned and scooted her forward with an arm around her waist, and Delia got
her first real look at the owner of the pixie hair.
Wow
.
The pixie girl—Mara—was staring back at her with a look that Delia told herself
was just friendly. Not hot, not sultry. Not clearly interested.
Daniel was looking from one of them to the other with a very strange smile.
“Do I tell the two of you to shake hands here, or what? Arm-wrestle? Do you have
to have a submissive cage match?”
“Two of us would enter, but only one of us would leave, Sir,” Mara quipped. “And
where would be the fun in that?”
Daniel chuckled at the punch line. Mara just grinned and wandered deeper into the
club, letting them follow at their own pace. A pool of light in one corner illuminated a large St. Andrew’s cross, where a very slender blond man was bound while a very
muscular, very bearded bald man worked on him with two floggers.
They stopped to watch, and Delia found herself aching to take the boy’s place. He
was so obviously enjoying it, though he was more vocal about expressing his
preferences than Delia would have ever been.
“Fuck, Terry. Shoulders, more on the shoulders. Oh, fuck yes!”
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Delphine Dryden
“You’re such a demanding little bitch,” twin-flogging Terry retorted. “Don’t make
me get out the ball gag again.” His arms never stopped moving, weaving an intricate
ballet of black leather across his happy victim’s heated skin.
“I should learn to do that,” Daniel murmured, as if to himself. Delia tried not to
look too eager as she hummed a nonverbal agreement.
“He’s had a lot of practice,” the dark pixie commented. “That’s Master Terry, he
gives lessons through the club on Seventh Street. If you look on their website, there’s a schedule.”
She was a wealth of information, although she looked a little puzzled about
something. Delia didn’t give it too much thought though. She was too eager to get to the private playroom Mara had mentioned. It was a huge relief when Daniel asked
Mara to lead the way.
* * * * *
The sign outside the door had indicated it was the Rose Room, and the name was
certainly accurate. There were roses in every color imaginable in vases everywhere, on top of a big chest of drawers, on the coffee and end tables surrounding the two low, backless couches. Indirect lighting—one very ornate central chandelier, and little
votives and candle lanterns—lent layers of soft glow to the already warm scene. Where the walls weren’t paneled in more highly polished wood, they were painted a deep
raspberry-rose color. Throw pillows of cream and pale yellow and pink. It was—
“Holy crap. It’s so freaking
pretty
,” Mara said, startling Delia from her stunned observation of the room.
Well, that was certainly one way to put it.
“It does not look like BDSM as I know it,” Delia agreed.
“Thank God,” Daniel added. “Because for a second there I was seriously confused. I
thought it was just me. Jeez, are those couches or benches?” He pressed his hands on one of the wide, backless platforms, testing the amount of spring.
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Roses and Chains
“Lounges, I guess,” Delia suggested. “Since they only have arms and no backs?”
Mara had ventured deeper into the room to investigate the drawers.
“Aha! Here’s the good stuff.”
She turned around, brandishing a set of leather cuffs. Delia gasped at the
coincidence. White leather, not black. Her favorite. What else was in there?
Before she could move forward, Daniel stopped her with a firm grip on her
shoulder.
“Hold up. Where do you think you’re going, missy?”
“Oh. Um, sorry, Master.” She aimed a sheepish grin his way and then dropped her
head, trying to look penitent. She was so eager to root around in the drawers full of goodies that she’d forgotten herself.
“Maybe later, if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you play with some of the toys. But for right now I need you to kneel here and wait.”
“Yes, Master.”
She had worn a very short leather skirt, and he’d told her not to wear anything
under it. Delia knew that kneeling in it with her knees spread, as Daniel preferred, was pretty much going to put an end to any modesty she had. She wondered if the pretty
pixie girl would notice. Or care. She knew Daniel would.
But he wasn’t really looking. He walked over to stare into the drawer with Mara,