Chapter 7
Pope
It had been a few weeks since he’d put in an appearance at dungeon night, what with a deadline looming, but with the book in the hands of his editor, finally, Pope was free to take a turn as a dungeon monitor.
Descending the steps, leather gleaming, he entertained thoughts of reserving a room before the book filled up.
The problem with that was not knowing if Danger intended to bring Roan down for a training session or if Ocean would make an appearance, since he seemed to have more than just a passing knowledge of kink.
Since those were the only men Pope was interested in, taking a room from those with more certainty of how their evening would end would be rude, even for him.
Skimming the packed space, he clocked Bellamy working in tandem behind the bar with Kat and surprise, surprise, Teddy.
Down here, they weren’t serving alcohol.
Instead, they passed out water and other cold, non-alcoholic drinks, blended coconut water smoothies, and sweet treats to those who needed them.
Snacks ranged from mini-charcuterie boards to cookies and other snacks from the bakery, one of several club-owned businesses they’d funded over the past ten years.
A decade of growth, prosperity, and, best of all, at least for the most part, keeping their noses clean.
His eyes skimmed the room after Teddy handed him a care package to stuff in the pocket of his trenchcoat.
Comprised of a bottle of water, four cookies, and a handful of tiny chocolates, it was neatly bundled in a slim, rectangular box that slid easily into most pockets.
One of several things Teddy had put together when he’d been helping to run the place, and among those that had been lacking these past few months while he’d been banished.
It was good to see Mark recognize his value and the contributions he’d made to the dungeon.
After all their years together, it felt wrong seeing them apart, almost as wrong as it had always felt to not have his pup by his side.
An image of Danger drifted up from the recesses of Pope’s mind, black and brown tail wagging as he’d presented Pope with a toy.
Retrieving had been one of Danger’s favorite games in his pup headspace, even when that meant bringing a person, instead of an item, like when Pope sent him to find a sub who’d been avoiding the punishment he had coming to him.
Somehow, whenever he thought of that moment, he always pictured Danger the size of Clifford the Big Red Dog from the children’s story his mother read him as a child, carrying the guy back in his mouth instead of tugging him with a firm hold on his wrist.
A flash of aqua, grey, and white pup gear caught his attention, the color reminding him of the sea. He’d never seen gear that shade before and veered that way to get a better look, shocked to recognize the brilliant green eyes peering through the holes.
“It’s okay for me to be down here tonight, right?” Ocean asked when Pope stopped directly in his path.
“We wouldn’t have given you the tour if it weren’t,” Pope replied.
While music filled the space, it came from the area where a trio of stripper poles sat on a raised platform; a small crowd gathered in front of it as a dancer spun, then flipped upside down.
It wasn’t too loud to drown out conversation or force one to shout over it to be heard.
Too many chances for misunderstandings if it was blaring, leaving wiggle room for disreputable bastards to pretend they hadn’t heard someone withdraw consent.
No pity was shown to anyone who tried to pull that shit.
The MC was known for meting out swift and unforgettable justice.
“I um, haven’t had many opportunities to visit actual dungeons,” Ocean admitted, Pope leading him off to the side, so they weren’t blocking the paths of those seeking out unused apparatuses.
“A friend helped me figure out that I was a pup, and he and I would hit munches and open play nights where we could, but we kept it hidden from the rest of our friends, since, well, we weren’t really sure how they’d react, ya know. ”
“Unfortunately, I do know, which is one of many reasons why we built this space for ourselves,” Pope said. “The aqua on your gear caught my attention; it’s not a shade I’ve seen before, but it suits you.”
“That’s how I felt the moment I saw it.”
“Are you looking for someone to play with tonight?” Pope asked, shocked when Ocean squirmed and stared down at his feet.
“Would you play with me?” Ocean asked, peeking up at him shyly. “Or are pups not your thing? I probably should have asked that first. I’m sorry. I’m still learning all the protocols.”
Smiling, Pope could appreciate his hesitation, especially when he wasn’t just new to the space but relatively new to the scene too.
“I am a pet handler,” Pope admitted. “I’ve also taken care of a few littles until I could find the perfect mommy or daddy for them. At the moment, I’m signed in as a dungeon monitor, but I’ll be free in a couple hours.”
“What’s a dungeon monitor do again?” Ocean asked.
“Mostly, walk around keeping an eye on things,” Pope explained, eyes vigilantly skimming the room even as he spoke to Ocean.
“But sometimes there’s a need to step in if someone needs a care package, or doesn’t have all the supplies they should, like safety scissors for quickly cutting through ropes if someone needs to be freed quickly. ”
“Care packages, that’s water and sugary things, right, in case someone crashes after an intense scene.”
“Very good,” Pope said.
“I always carry treats with me,” Ocean explained, “in case the person playing with me doesn’t have any.”
“Smart. You should always make sure you have everything you need when you don’t have a handler to watch over you,” Pope declared.
“I um, I’m not in any rush to go play or anything,” Ocean admitted. “Would it be okay if I just hung out with you until you’re free?”
It was an offer he hadn’t expected but was pleased to receive, nonetheless.
Ocean was already drawing stares and attention from some of the other club brothers, a few who had pets by their sides already.
Pope was looking forward to seeing Ocean play with them later and thrilled that the man was in no hurry to leave his side.
“I welcome the company,” Pope said and took great pleasure out of seeing the way Ocean’s eyes lit up behind his mask. “I was about to do a sweep around the dungeon. Feel free to ask me about anything if you have questions; I know I have a few for you.”
“Like what?” Ocean asked as he fell in beside him, keeping a half step back as he walked to Pope’s right, something most pets wouldn’t have done until he told them to.
“Why did you pick that side of me to walk on, for one?” Pope said, asking his new question first, instead of the one he’d been dying to know the answer to.
“You’re left-handed,” Ocean explained. “All the handlers I’ve played with always preferred me to walk on their nondominant side.”
“And you are very observant,” Pope pointed out. “Most people assume everyone is a righty and immediately move to my left side.”
“I try to be. Watching the waves, learning where and how they break, taught me to pay attention to other things too.”
Nodding his approval, Pope started to ask the questions he’d originally planned to, when he heard a soft sniffle to his left and immediately turned to see who’d made the sound.
Ocean did too, spotting Kermit, in his sleek kitty suit, clutching a ball as he huddled against the wall near a St. Andrews Cross no one was using.
Tucked where it was, in a small alcove, it was typically reserved for scenes involving the whip, so the recoil didn’t accidentally strike anyone.
When Kermit spotted them, he let out a pitiful mew.
Pope immediately started looking around, seeking out Sunshine’s bright hair, while Ocean moved to Kermit’s side and offered him a paw.
“Did you lose your mama?” Ocean asked.
Kermit nodded and mewed again, tears shimmering in his eyes. He held up the ball, not in a way that indicated that he wanted to play, but like he was trying to communicate something else.
“You chased it through the crowd and got separated from her, didn’t you?” Pope surmised.
Another mew, Kermit’s body trembling, until Ocean stepped closer, not touching, just offering his presence as comfort, but he wrapped his paws around Kermit when the other man crashed against him and held on.
“Ocean,” Pope said, getting him to look up at him. “I’m going to find Sunshine; will you stay here with Kermit?”
“Yes, sir,” Ocean replied, bright eyes meeting his as he rubbed his paw in a circle on Kermit’s back to help sooth him.
There was something fierce and even protective in his gaze that Pope could appreciate.
While Kermit was a patched member of the club, he was also in a very vulnerable headspace.
Pope knew the trauma that kept him glued to Sunshine and Joker’s sides.
That he’d bolted after the ball was both a positive thing, because it meant that for a moment, at least, he’d felt brave enough to wander away from her, and a negative one, because now she was nowhere to be seen.
Pope used his size and stern visage to cut a swath through the crowd, moving with purpose, his gaze restlessly skimming past those in attendance, until he spotted Sunshine frantically searching in the wrong direction.
Hurrying to her side, he touched her shoulder and saw the panic in her eyes when she whirled around.
“I found him,” Pope said. “Oceans with him. He’s terrified.”
That’s all he needed to say. She hurried beside him back to that spot, where Kong, Creature, and Wreck, three of the biggest guys in the club, now stood, backs to Ocean and Kermit, shielding them from prying eyes.
They parted upon spotting them approach, allowing Sunshine to race to his side, then closed ranks behind Pope to maintain their privacy.