“Kink is a popular sport these days, isn't it?” MacKensie murmured, looking around with wide eyes.

“It is.” Grasping her arms, he held her out in front of him, taking a second to appreciate the view. The dark leather bustier not only matched her eyes but also emphasized her tiny waist and pushed her breasts up in a way that tempted fingers to explore. The bloodred latex skirt stretched over her firm, round ass, stopping just below her cheeks. He'd considered letting her wear heels but decided she needed a constant reminder of her submission, so she was both bare legged and barefoot.

His decree of no underwear had received a horrified look, then a stubborn one, and finally compliance. Very reluctant compliance. This would be an interesting night with her denial of her submissive nature and his need to dominate.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked, scowling at him.

Definitely interesting. He tightened his grip to remind her of his strength and ability to hold her in place all night if needed. “MacKensie, do you recall our agreement?”

Her eyes dropped.

“That's better.” He'd held off on swamping her with all the protocols, but this would be a good time for some more. “Now some rules: In a club or anytime we're in Dom/sub roles, you stay silent unless spoken to. You address any Dom as 'Sir' and any Domme as 'Ma'am.' If you need to ask for something, you say, 'Sir, may I have permission to speak, Sir?'”

“You have got to be kidding. That's—” She halted at his frown.

“Making a mistake can and will get you disciplined, little cat.” At his words, a tremor rippled through her. Punishment, discipline, and spanking were trigger words for her, and the haunted look in her eyes indicated an emotional response rather than an erotic one. Another area to explore. Soon.

He continued. “I prefer that you keep your eyes on me; I like to see what's in them.” He ran his hands up and down her arms, feeling the soft, soft skin and the toned muscles hidden beneath a woman's gentle padding. “Keep your eyes down with other dominants. Some take offense at a sub meeting their gaze.”

Her hands tightened into fists. But even in the dim light of the room, he could see a slight flush of excitement appear on her cheekbones. He eyed the bustier that hid her nipples. Maybe he should have forced her to wear only a skirt. Then again, the leather laces could be easily undone. “Is there any part of this that you don't understand?”

She shook her head.

“Your answer should be 'no, Sir.'”

“No, Sir.”

“Very nice.” He let approval warm his voice. The way she drank it in like a thirsty kitten made him want to wrap her in his arms.

“Alex, you made it!” Bob pushed through the crowd, trailed by his sub.

“How could I not come to celebrate with you?” Alex shook Bob's hand. “Congratulations. You're a lucky man.”

“I know.” Bob put his arm around Lynn, pulling her forward. “Oh I know.”

The slim brunette leaned into her Dom, her eyes glowing. Every few seconds, she fingered the thin collar around her neck, stroking the leather as if she wore the finest of diamond jewelry.

Alex glanced at Bob for permission and received a nod before kissing Lynn's cheek. “Felicitations, sweetheart.”

She beamed at him.

Bob looked at MacKensie and raised his eyebrows. “Well. I heard you and Cynthia had parted ways, but she called it a false rumor.”

“No rumor.” Alex smothered his irritation before putting an arm around his little vet and pulling her closer. “I'm working with MacKensie at the moment. She's very new to the scene, and this is her first time out openly as a sub.”


Mac kept her eyes on the ground, but she could actually feel the appraising look from Alex's friend.

“Very pretty.” Bob snorted. “Cynthia's reaction should be interesting.”

Lynn giggled.

“Doubtful,” Alex said in a cold voice.

When his arm around Mac tightened, she didn't resist, needing the feeling of being protected more than she needed to avoid contact. The atmosphere seemed more intense than the public BDSM clubs she'd visited. She'd expected to see subs getting flogged, caned, even sights like the person having hot wax being tipped onto her stomach from a candle. But here, the observers were more focused, and the people negotiating a scene were more serious. In fact, one Dom had actually taken out a list on a piece of paper to go over it, point by point, with a thin male sub. That Dom looked up just then and met Mac's eyes.

She dropped her gaze immediately. Oops. This not looking at Doms wasn't an easy rule to remember.

“We've commandeered an area near the far end, between the stockade and the St. Andrew's cross. C'mon over,” Bob said.

Still within the curve of Alex's arm, Mac walked through the room. By a massive wooden St. Andrew's cross, Bob's group occupied a sitting area of leather couches and chairs. As Alex received a chorus of hellos and welcomes, Mac unobtrusively checked out his friends. The mostly male Doms wore either leathers or black clothing, much like the black slacks and black silk shirt Alex had on. Their ages ranged from thirties to fifties, and most were fairly good-looking, with a couple of men almost as gorgeous as Alex. One female Domme had a male sub, another a female.

As Alex took a chair, Mac looked for one too, then noticed every sub was kneeling on the floor. She didn't want to embarrass Alex, so she did the same, trying not to flash everyone and cursing her short skirt and lack of underwear. Once situated, she checked her posture against the other subs—kneeling, hands palms up on knees, back straight—then glanced up at Alex.

His eyes and smile showed his pleasure even before he leaned forward and stroked her hair. “Very observant, little cat. You look lovely.”

The compliment in his deep voice seemed to glide right through her skin and into her insides, creating a warm glow that lessened her insecurity. Not that the glow lasted as comments from the other Doms came hard and fast. She forced her gaze to stay on the floor.

“New sub?”

“Pretty little thing.”

“Looks a little feisty; 'bout time you had a challenge.”

His hand rested on her shoulder possessively. “Her name is MacKensie, and she's new to the scene.”

When their attention turned elsewhere, she gave a sigh of relief—one that was too noticeable, she understood, when Alex gave a quiet laugh and squeezed her shoulder.

His touch felt good. Too good. He watched her closely and touched her too easily. A slight tremor ran through her, and she edged away from him. He glanced down at her, focused on her a minute, then removed his hand.

And then she felt lonely. Frak.

As the subs stayed silent, the Doms discussed plans for the following week and upcoming events. When no waitress appeared, they designated two subs to fetch drinks. Then two of the Doms asked for Alex's opinion on a scene across the room, some sort of knife stuff that sounded appallingly bloody.

“All right,” Alex told them, then looked down at her. “MacKensie, do you want to see this?”

“I get to choose?” Wasn't he supposed to make all the decisions?

He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek. “I know you don't mind blood, but I don't know how you feel about one person deliberately cutting another.”

She shuddered. That didn't sound at all pleasant.

“And there's my answer.” Alex rose. “Remain here. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Not a problem. Just after he walked away, she realized she'd missed her chance to ask a vital question: where was the restroom? Her bladder felt like an overinflated balloon, and the tight skirt made it worse. She looked around. Two Doms, one Domme, and a handful of subs remained. The other subs wore clothing much like hers, although one was completely naked. Another wore only jeweled clamps on her nipples—ouch—with a chain running between them, and a very skimpy thong.

Mac shook her head in wonder. Apparently she'd gotten off lightly when Alex had chosen her outfit.

Clothing or not, she still had to pee. When a gorgeous brunette kneeling beside the adjacent chair looked over, Mac asked, “Are we allowed to go to the bathroom? I'm dying here.”

Expressionless, the brunette eyed Mac. Then she smiled slightly and pointed. “The restrooms are across the room. You should be able to get there and back before the Doms return.”

“Thanks.” After pushing to her feet, Mac hurried across the room, past two flogging scenes and one man touching some electrical thing to intimate places on his male sub. Looked painful as all get-out.

Once she'd used the toilet and managed to wiggle her skirt back into place, she retraced her steps, using the St. Andrew's cross as her heading.

Halfway there, a hefty Dom in battered leathers stopped her. “Brown top, red skirt, medium height, yellow-brown hair. You must be MacKensie.”

Mac blinked. “Um. Yes.”

“Good enough. I got your safe word and conditions.” He snapped a metal handcuff on her, whipped her around, and put one on the other wrist, just like in a cop show. And just like a show, he pushed her forward.

“Hey, let go!” Mac tried to jerk away, but he had a good grip on her and must have outweighed her by a good hundred pounds. She raised her voice. “I don't know you. Let go of me.” She kicked out at him without managing to hit anything vital, and suddenly the hand clamped around her arm felt like Arlene's. Dragging her to the closet.Helpless. Her hands chilled. “No no no!”

He cut off her screams by stuffing a rubber ball into her mouth, securing the elastic band behind her head. With her hands restrained, she couldn't fight, couldn't get it off.