Chapter 5: Damian

It took a naughty sub to discover what all the whispers in my club were about. She didn't want to tell me about the Domme in California who was attracting my expensive clientele.

"What's her name?" I asked after she finally surrendered.

The tears sliding down her face were caused by me and the cane I had just used on the backs of her thighs. "I don't know her real name. They call her the fiery Domme," she answered with trembling lips.

I loosened my grip on her hair and rubbed my thumb across those very same lips. "Why didn't you think you could tell me about her?" This is the question that's really bothered me. I keep my finger on the pulse of the BDSM community at all times. I'd known for weeks that something or someone was causing a stir. It wasn't an open whisper. It seems the subs have been playing on the side and didn't want the big bad Doms to know. There are no rules against this but it's odd. Once a sub makes a connection with a Dom, they usually ask for permission to play with someone else. I can't imagine a Dom denying them. It's against the Dom code unless they're in an exclusive relationship and even then, they would be released, not forbidden from going. What I really found strange was that both male and female subs seemed to be in thrall with the fiery Domme. I needed more answers than the sub could provide.

I unsnapped the naughty sub from her restraints and sent her on her way.

"But, Master-"

I cut her off. "You will not seek pleasure for seven days. The next time I ask you a question you will answer immediately." More tears slid down her cheeks. I love sub tears but licking them off would only give her pleasure and that's the last thing she deserved. I turned and walked away without giving her aftercare. Yeah, bad Dom move but I'm pissed off and she'll forgive me, eventually.

I have a private investigator on retainer. In my business it's important to keep a watch on my clientele. If they cross certain lines allowed by their bottomless bank accounts, I make sure they face the consequences. Finding Tilton was thanks to my relationship with Monroe. The man has connections all over the world. Exactly what Monroe does besides rescuing women and his art is beyond me. What I do know is that he's the deadliest SOB of my acquaintance. He's also the most talented. Monroe is a world-renowned Shibari artist.

I went to my office and made the call, giving Tilton as much information as I had. The three days I waited for his return call were strangely painful.

"I take it you've heard the rumors about a Domme stealing our thunder," Kyle, one of the club's more sadistic Doms, asked me on day two.

"It took a little work but yeah, I heard about her."

"I find it interesting. You know I don't form attachments with subs and rarely play with the same one twice?"

"I'm perfectly aware of your proclivities," I offer and try to keep the sadness out of my smile. Kyle has a dark secret that not many people know about, and, here at the club, I'm probably the only one.

He nods and I see a flash of sorrow in his eyes, which he quickly covers. "I had an appointment set up with Carla a few days ago. She never called to cancel, she just didn't show."

Carla is trouble. She leaches onto Doms, becomes territorial, and is always a pain in the ass. It surprised me that Kyle would be interested in her at all and I knew for a fact that the woman had more hard limits than Fort Knox. Not Kyle's hard core style at all.

"A weak moment, you ass," he answered my unspoken condemnation that must have shown on my face. "She bugged the front office for months about being put on my list. I turned her down each time and she still kept trying. I finally set her down and explained exactly what I would do and her hard limits be damned."

I raised my eyebrows because this is against the rules and Kyle knows it.

He ignored my heavy gaze. "She marched into the office and changed her hard limits and I still made her wait another month before I agreed. Does that sound like the type of scene a sub fails to show up for?"

Kyle scares the fuck out of most of the subs here. He doesn't play often because of the secret he keeps. He's great to have around and he helps endlessly with problems that arise. He'll be around for weeks at a time and then disappear for just as long. I respect him and I hope that someday he'll find the peace he deserves. "I take it she blew you off and flew to California." I actually wanted to laugh. I'm glad this mysterious Domme wreaked havoc with someone besides me.

He looked at me with an all-knowing Dom gaze. "What the fuck do you plan to do about it?" he asked with a smirk.

"Hire her, of course."

He laughed and continued laughing as he left my office.

The next day I received a small packet of information that included a few pictures. Unsurprisingly, her driver's license photo didn't do her justice. A sexy image of her walking into the Mediterranean Club piqued my interest, though.

Red hair-the fiery Domme. I think it was the hair that first did me in. It became the center of my fantasies. Handfuls of that hair tangled in my fingers as my cock slid down her throat. I had to know more and learn about every facet of her life. Tilton followed my directives to dig deep and with each batch of information, I became more enthralled. With every photo my cock grew harder. I continued playing with subs but the deep-seated enjoyment was missing. There was no helping it. The fiery Domme had to work for me.

Her answer was no.

It didn't matter what I offered. I knew she lived close to the poverty level. Hell, I knew her boss was a weasel. Her defiance made no sense and neither do my wet dreams. I'm not a teenage boy who can't control himself. At least not until it came to her. Even my mother knew something was up.

"Is it a woman?" she asked me around the third or fourth "no" from Lydia.

"No," I answered. "Just restless." Was I lying? I wasn't sure. Lydia Simmons was the most exasperating woman on earth. She's also entirely out of reach for my sexual needs. I told myself that if she were working in my club, the fascination would fade.

My mother gave me a stern look and let it go.

It took two more months for me to get on a plane. Now I'm taking Lydia to her favorite fast food grease pit because after studying her history, I know when she's upset, she comes here to realign whatever it is that makes her tick. Watching her enjoy the hamburger catches me by surprise. I know all about her eating disorder and using the knowledge earlier to hurt her was a low blow. I'm better than that. This messed up woman deserves better than me. She deserves a sub who will worship her and give her loyalty. So why the hell am I playing this game?