The One Worth Finding (2 page)

Most Dommes weren’t interested
in his butt
,
which unfortunately was the part of his body where he most needed
to be touched. To make matters even worse, most of them didn’t look
for happily ever after. Meaningless sex had been fun in his youth,
hadn’t it? Now, more often than not, he found his fantasies
extended to the aftermath, where the woman of his dreams pulled the
giant strap-on out after he’d ejaculated like a stallion, pressed
her lips to his in a sweet, loving kiss and rocked him to sleep in
her arms, pushing his face into her generous breasts.

He sighed. Certainly, that
wasn’t what most women found
terribly romantic.

“Damn, James,” he sighed, “when God
gave me that ridiculously sensitive prostate, why didn’t he make me
gay?”

James chuckled.

“
She’s out there, Aaron,” he
winked, “Don’t lose faith now, you’ll find her. Or she’ll find
you.”

“
Yeah, sure,” Aaron muttered,
“why in hell is she hiding if she’s dying to take me? Damn,
preferably all of me: back, front, heart. The whole nine
yards.”

“
It’s
more like a generous nine inches,
Aaron,” James chuckled, “not nine yards, you terrible
show-off.”

“Very funny,” Aaron scowled, “feel
free to make the lonely old man feel even worse.”

James looked at him.

“
She is out there. You wait.
Won’t take long now.”

Aaron growled and put his lab
coat on a hanger,
placing it in the closet in the hallway.

He watched his reflection in the mirror
and smoothed his hands over his immaculate dark grey dress pants,
complete with a matching vest. His stark white shirt was spotless.
His fondness for perfect clothing possibly supported the theory
about him being gay. Well, he had no problems with that.

He pulled his jacket from the closet
and put it on.

“
Are you going to the club
tonight?” James asked cheerfully.

“
Yeah,” Aaron said with a smile,
“where else would I go? You guys are all I have.”

He winked cheerfully.

“
Poor
old man,” James chuckled, and Aaron
opened the door to slip out into the mild California winter
night.

Only a few hours later, Aaron
put his jacket into a different closet, this one placed in a dim
locker room in an even darker building
close to the beach. It looked
unobtrusive and decent from the outside, so stray passers-by on the
street would never have guessed that it housed the Dragon’s Lair, a
private BDSM-club Aaron more or less called home. Everybody who
knew him the way he truly was frequented this club. His best
friends. Including Sam Barclay, owner of the Lair.

Aaron
shed shoes, socks, vest and shirt,
carefully folding his clothes before putting them in his locker. He
eyed his two bracelets and took the black one without hesitation.
Sam had granted him the black bracelet out of kindness, and Aaron
appreciated the gesture. It indicated a sub who didn’t want to
scene; usually, it was given only to subs who were in a committed
relationship. Free subs wore white bracelets, which still gave them
the possibility to decline the offers of free dominants, but
clearly marked them as possible playmates.

Lately, Aaron had hated to be
asked out to play. When he wore the white bracelet, he was
frequently
offered to scene, and sometimes he had just wanted to hide,
to crawl into a tiny space far away from everything. He didn’t want
to play because he knew he wouldn’t find what he was looking for.
The one woman who would love him for what he was. He was 38, for
god’s sake. Too old to be nothing but a toy.

The rejection of his big soft
heart had started to hurt recently
, and at this point, he didn’t feel
himself up to much more anguish. He wanted to settle
down.

He had tried a vanilla
relationship. More than once. But he could never give his
whole
self
that way. And inevitably, at some point down the road the women
would have found out that he masturbated with a dildo. That he
administered an enema every night before he went to bed because he
just…needed to feel absolutely clean down there. That he often felt
lost taking the initiative in the bedroom. So he ended the
relationships before things became embarrassing. He’d never loved
whole-heartedly. But damn, he wanted to. So much.

Sam had understood that he didn’t want
to be whipped for a while, didn’t want to have just sex any longer.
So he had given him the black bracelet and left the decision to
him.

Aaron smiled. Good, scary, fierce-looking
Sam with the soft eyes. The sub that would catch his heart
eventually would be envied by the Lair’s clientele on
incomprehensible levels. Male Doms of Sam’s caliber were popular.
Not like aging subs with an anal fetish.

With a sigh, Aaron donned the
black bracelet and went to the little door that would lead him into
the club’s main
room.

Chapter 2

Grace
squealed with delight and threw
herself into Aaron’s arms.

Brrr, bad move, huh? She was still
training to be a full sub, and Sid, her Dom, went to a lot of
trouble with her. Embracing another man, even if it was a fellow
sub and her best friend, certainly wouldn’t sit well with him.
Thankfully, Sid wasn’t looking her way, but deep in conversation
with Sam. Grace pulled back nonetheless, gently petting Aaron’s
cheek.

He looked great;
but then, he always
did. Perfectly sculpted muscles everywhere. Shining blond curls.
The even, angular face of an angel. Rosebud lips, sparkling sea
green eyes. Aaron Harte was 38, but he looked at least ten years
younger. Despite the very attractive lines that covered his skin,
his face had this ageless pretty-boy-quality. It made him look so
sweet and soft that Dommes and Doms felt drawn to him like moths to
a flame. She had seen when this attraction had become a burden for
her friend; he had withdrawn. Had visibly lost the hope of finding
what he needed.

Grace sighed. She had so tried to find the
perfect Domme for him. But Aaron’s favorite kink was extreme, and
the level on which he practiced his fetish even more so. Female
Dommes often didn’t have a sense for that much anal play, and the
ones who did hadn’t shown up at the Lair so far.

“
Hey,” she said brightly,
“
I’m so glad
you’re here tonight, you’re sitting all alone in your dark house
often enough. You’re wearing the black bracelet
tonight?”

Grace knew that he would never meet
the one if he didn’t play. Already she’d seen some female Dommes
eyeing him curiously, had noticed the disappointment on their faces
when their gazes fell on his bracelet.

“
You have to scene, Aaron,” Grace
said softly, “if you want to meet a woman who shares your fetish,
you’ll meet her in a club. So hey, play around. Allow yourself to
look at the display.”

“
I don’t want to scene,” Aaron
sighed, “I just came to be with you and the guys. The loneliness
eats me up when I’m alone at night. If it’s ok, I’ll just sit here
nursing a beer. Maybe people-watch while I’m at it. Did you see the
blond Domme in the corner? Makes me glad I chose the black
bracelet…”

“
Aaron!” Grace interrupted,
“You
’re not
taking this seriously. You need a woman. A permanent Domme. One who
makes you swoon.”

Aaron’s heart clenched. Damn, he had
looked. Everywhere. And had found nothing but heartache. Maybe he
should retire as a sub and live a perfectly clean, asexual
life.

“
I don’t know, Grace,” he said
quietly, “maybe my very impressive collection of dildos, vibrators,
and lube in every color of the rainbow has to be
enough.”

Grace chuckled despite
herself.

“
Did you wear a butt plug
tonight?” she asked.

“
Nah,” Aaron answered, “any kind
of anal stimulation tends to give me a murderous hard-on. And I do
very well without one, thank you very much. You?”

“
Yes,” G
race growled, “Sid is punishing me
for talking back to him at home.”

“
Oh, I forgot,” Aaron groaned,
“normal people see penetrative anal techniques as punishment. For
me, it’s what little fun I have left in life.”

Grace
chuckled; Aaron saw Sid and her as
“normal people”?

“
You have to find her,” she said,
putting her hand on Aaron’s bare arm, “it’s about time. So just
start looking.”

A veil of deep sadness touched his
face, only for a second, before his trademark smile flashed back in
place.

“James said maybe she’ll find me,” he
quipped.

Before Grace could answer, Sam stepped
behind the counter. Both Grace and Aaron automatically lowered
their eyes.

“Aaron,” Sam boomed, “I need to talk
to you, in my office. Now.”

“
Yes,
Sir.” Aaron answered, keeping his
eyes on the floor, getting up immediately.

He looked at Grace quizzically, but
the red-haired sub just shrugged in confusion. Aaron shrugged back.
He would find out soon enough.

He entered Sam’s office a respectful
distance behind the impressive Dom.

The black giant sank into his chair behind
his massive desk and motioned Aaron to have a seat on the chair in
front of him.

“
First of all,” Sam said,
”
you have
permission to speak freely. As long as you’re here in my office,
you’re not a sub.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Aaron said and
looked up.

Sam was a phenomenon. He was at least six
feet seven, so muscular most doorframes didn’t fit his bulk; he
entered most rooms sideways. He shaved his head and had some scary
tats all over his body. But his dark brown eyes were deep and
soulful, and they showed a kindness that could make one forget that
he was an experienced Dom. Until he raised his booming
voice.

“
Listen, Aaron,” he said, “I got
a call from an old friend this afternoon. He leads a club in
Seattle. Private, of course, so absolute discretion granted. He
asked me if I know a sub with an extraordinary capacity for anal
play
, and, if
possible, a preference for that kind of stimulation.”

“
Yes,” Aaron said, smiling
humorlessly, “and we all know that I’m the guy in whose ass you
could park a truck and he would beg for more. So, what am I
supposed to do?”

“
Said friend wants to do a public
scene in his club on December 31
^st
.”

“
What kind of public
scene?”

Sam looked directly into Aaron’s
eyes.

“Anal fisting.”

Aaron’s cock jerked in his pants. Sam
smiled at him, knowing full well what the mentioning of certain
practices did to Aaron’s sexual equilibrium, but Aaron was far
beyond embarrassment with the Lair’s owner.

“
Jack, my buddy, has an
experienced Domme who obviously knows what she’s doing” Sam
continued, “but he’s still looking for the perfect bottom to her
top. Honestly, I would like to strengthen the connections between
our two clubs. So I said I would ask you if you’d agree to go there
for a week.”

“
One week?”

“
You’d have to train with the
Domme,” Sam nodded, “she’ll work you up to the fisting, then do the
public scene with you. Before you start, you can negotiate the
contract, dictate your terms up to a point. Pick a safe word, state
your limits. Nothing shady, Aaron. And hey, you get to scene with a
Domme who LIKES to play with your delicious little
tush.”

“
What if she likes it because
it’s so super painful for the bottom and isn’t
very pleased with me because I
don’t find it painful at all?”

Sam shrugged.

“If that’s the case, you simply
safeword and leave. But Jack didn’t hint at wanting to show fisting
as a way of punishment. I think he wants you to show that it can be
done WITHOUT causing serious pain.”

Aaron thought for a
moment.
He’d
become a loner over the past few months, to a point where he was
almost a bit afraid of huge crowds of strangers. On the other hand,
what did he have to lose? His office was closed over the holidays
anyway. He would miss the Lair’s New Year’s Eve party, but what was
a BDSM-party if you had no one to play with. He would just suffer
watching all the committed couples kiss and fuck their brains out.
So, why not go to Seattle and take it up the ass?

“Okay,” he said.

Sam rubbed his hands
together.

“
Great, Aaron, “he said, “you’re
helping me out of a tight spot here, mate. You’re the perfect sub
for this.”

“What if the Domme isn’t very
impressed with me?” Aaron asked, suddenly
self-conscious.

“
Believe me, Dr. Aaron Harte,”
Sam chuckled, his eyes glinting, “she will be very impressed. I’ve
never met a sub who can pack what you can in that department. I
wouldn’t be surprised if she refuses to let you go after the public
scene.”