2. Chapter One
Chapter One
Arnav
The last Wednesday of the month was Master and puppy night at Club Kink.
I was all about the puppies, but less into the Master thing. I saw myself as a handler. Sir, Authority, Manager, Ruler, Superior, Dominant, Boss, Sire, Dad…
Just not Master . My grandparents had been supporters of Mahatma Gandhi, even joining him for a time in his hunger strike. In the end, they moved to the Philippines after partition. Their daughter—my mother—headed to Canada to study linguistics. She met my Indian father, they fell in love, they married, but even in this relatively liberal land, the echoes of colonialism lingered.
My doting grandparents immigrated to Canada not long after my third sister was born. I spent a lot of time with them, learning all about life in the Philippines as well as their time in India. I wanted to be the keeper of stories in my family. My grandfather died not long after that. Nani passed just a few years ago. But before they passed, they gave me a deep awareness of history and injustice that drove my aversion to the word Master .
Just…hard no .
I liked handler . That worked for me.
What wasn’t working was sitting at a table watching a small group of puppies in a circle chatting. Several had arrived with their Dominants. I’d watched carefully and gently removed them from my list of possible pups. Approaching was tricky. Making it clear I was available to be selected was bloody hard. Possibly because I’d never made it this far in my real life before. In my fantasies? I had my own pup whom I helped train. Helped make into the perfect pup. Helped fulfill their own dreams.
Maybe even loved.
A gentle hand to my shoulder made me jump.
I turned to face Dante. I’d spoken to him a couple of times when I’d come to Club Kink on regular play nights. Telling myself a traditional BDSM relationship would surely work, I’d made my way to downtown Vancouver from my small town of Mission City. An hour’s drive. A whole new world. I’d lived in Vancouver for law school, of course, but I’d been overwhelmed then as well. Happy, once I graduated, to come back to my hometown and to make a life for myself. But for this, I needed the size and anonymity of the city.
I rose and offered Dante my hand. At first, he looked like he was going to hug me, but then he took my hand. I would’ve appreciated a hug. Some reassurance I was doing the right thing. “Good to see you.”
The manager of Club Kink offered me a broad smile. “Of course. Glad to see you, Arnav. I wondered when you might come to puppy night.”
I arched an eyebrow.
He chuckled. “I was pretty sure you weren’t interested in a classic BDSM relationship. At the very least, I figured you wanted to be a Daddy. Whether for a little or a pup, I wasn’t one hundred percent certain.”
The flinch when he said little wasn’t something I could hide. Nothing wrong with Daddies and littles. I saw them come here often when I found the courage to show up. But I didn’t want an infant, toddler, or even a child in my sub’s identity. I didn’t want to have to parent someone. Puppy handler, to me, was a completely different thing. I offered a smile. “Apparently you know me well.”
The grin Dante offered was wide. He was a few years older than me, with jet-black hair and mesmerizing dark-brown eyes. I also was aware he was in a triad relationship with a Domme and—from how I’d heard him described—a bratty sub. I mean, great for them. Also not my thing.
“I enjoy puppy night myself.” He gazed lovingly over the pups. Then he refocused on me. “My submissive Evan will be here soon. He’s good at facilitating introductions. He’s got a good sense for people and knows many of the pups and what they’re looking for. Discreet as well. Just a good guy.”
A gentle laugh escaped my lips. “You speak lovingly of him. That’s heartwarming.”
He shrugged. “He knew what he wanted—and that was both Master Dante and Mistress Kate. The young man can be…persuasive.”
“Something tells me you haven’t been put upon much.”
He barked out a laugh. “Uh, no.” He surveyed the room. “I know several pups looking for relationships spanning from just for play through to full-time, all-in, 24/7 .”
“I can’t do full-time or anything like that. I work long hours and can’t be worried about my pup.” Even just saying my pup brought a little thrill. “But I do want more than just for play, I think.”
Dante nodded. “Let me see what I can do. Available pups are wearing the green neon wristbands.”
Ah, I’d spotted three different colors. Only now did I realize they were the stoplight colors. “Thanks for the heads-up.” I scanned the group and spotted three. “Perhaps Evan can introduce me…especially if he thinks there might be a connection.” Because I need to stop thinking about the guy who got away. The guy who ran out.
That one still stung a little.
Then, as if in thinking about Foster, magic happened, and I spotted him. He hung back in the shadows watching the puppies. I was able to discern the look of longing on his face. Can I approach him? Would I spook him? Might I be able to figure out why he’s here? Tonight? He wasn’t wearing a costume. Wasn’t dressed like a pup.
And sported a yellow wristband.
Inwardly, I winced.
“Are you interested in meeting that man?”
Dante had moved closer and spoke softly. I almost couldn’t hear him above the house music, which was quieter than it was on normal play nights.
“He’s wearing a yellow wristband.”
“That’s not an answer, Arnav.”
My gaze shot to Dante who was only a few years older, but who clearly had wisdom and experience well beyond his years. Running a BDSM club would, I believed, require a sensitivity and ability to read people that even surpassed my need to interpret reactions and emotions. A big part of my job, certainly, but not giving me the ability to read Foster. “Do you know him? Know what he wants?”
Dante shook his head. “He only filled out a form this afternoon. We don’t require that, of course, but it facilitates the…integration…into the club if we know what a person’s looking for.”
I chuckled softly. “I believe mine only said Dominant .”
“Yes, but I caught you watching the pups and handlers every time you visited. Barely paid attention to some pretty engaging play going on around you.”
“Whips don’t really do it for me.” I tapped my chin, all the while watching Foster out of the corner of my eye. If he bolted—which I completely considered him capable of—I planned to try to catch him this time. Not to confront. Just to see if he was okay. Ask what I’d done wrong a month ago.
“How about a flogger? A way to get the pup’s attention while also providing an opportunity to be gentle. I know a man who makes rabbit-fur floggers. I should give you his number.”
“Email it to me?” I’d provided the club with an anonymous email.
“Of course. Now…introductions, or do you want to wait?”
“Until he bolts?” Although Foster’s intense gaze focused on the puppies, his gaze kept straying to the exit.
Dante cocked his head. “You know him?”
I could’ve argued, but what would be the point? “We met at a Halloween party. In Mission City.”
“Ah. That makes sense.”
That we were at a party together or that he’s from Mission City? I’d probably given the club that much information about me.
Had Foster?
Too many questions and too few answers.
“I’m not certain an introduction would…” I trailed off as I watched a young man approach Foster. A cute man with short brown hair and a dazzling smile. Oh, and a purple neon wristband.
“That’s Evan.” Dante whispered the words near my ear. “He’s wearing a house wristband. Meaning he belongs to the house, but is open for play as long as he wants to and has permission.”
I tore my gaze away from Foster, then glanced at Dante. “Does that happen often?”
He shrugged. “Evan is a popular bottom. Kate and I keep him occupied, but he has tops he played with before us who still enjoying going a few rounds with him. And he’s good with new Doms who are learning the skills. I might be able to advise on technique, but Evan’s good at providing the feedback of what things actually feel like. He’s not a pup, so he’s not here to find a handler. As I said, though, he makes others feel comfortable. Especially the new and the skittish.”
Skittish was the perfect word to describe Foster.
As Evan gestured the entire breadth of the club, Foster’s gaze settled on mine.
Deer caught in headlights level of panic.
“Do you want a formal introduction?” Dante was already moving around me, clearly sensing Foster’s discomfort.
Evan followed Foster’s stare and caught my gaze. He whispered something to Foster.
Foster, to my judgement at least, appeared to relax a fraction.
A fraction.
“Whatever you can do that doesn’t spook him. I’d feel incredibly guilty if he felt he had to leave. I know I’ll come back…he might not.” I didn’t know that for certain, but that instinct settled low in my gut.
Dante was already striding toward Evan and Foster.
With fascination, I watched the interactions between the three men.
A voice interrupted. “Are you looking for a pup?”
I turned to find a young woman with sleek blonde hair, puppy ears, and a tail protruding from her spandex suit.
“Uh, no, sorry.” In the war between not wanting to be rude and not losing sight of Foster, my desire for the man across the room won out.
A low chuckle came from the woman next to me. Then she sighed. “The hot ones are always gay.”
“Not always.” Perhaps I shouldn’t argue. I knew several heterosexual and bisexual men with impeccable résumés—kind, gentle, funny, wonderful senses of humor. Just great guys. Unfortunately, to the best of my knowledge, none were looking for a puppy.
“Why don’t you just go over? You’re probably scaring him with that glare.”
“I’m not—”
“Oh yeah, you are.” She leaned in. “Go for it.” Then she sashayed away with her tail swinging.
I watched her go…because someone that forthright deserved at least a moment of my attention. Then I refocused on Foster, Dante, and Evan.
Dante raised an eyebrow.
Guessing at his question, I nodded as subtly as I could.
He gestured for me to come over.
I met Foster’s gaze and searched for welcome.
After a long moment, he nodded.
Well, here goes nothing.
Or everything.