Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Their executive staff for each department all came with high praise from their previous employers, and Cordell was confident they’d hired top-notch people.
Training was starting for numerous positions over the next few weeks, and soon they’d be putting on all the finishing touches.
He was thrilled with the place and had no doubt it would become as successful as the Sawyers and Tyler had dreamed it would be.
Ian, Mitch, and Cordell had gone over the numerous membership requests from Doms during several Zoom meetings and had chosen approximately thirty of them to be offered a reduced annual fee in exchange for becoming part-time Dungeon Masters.
In addition to regular security, the resort needed experienced Doms to keep an eye on all play in the club, ensuring it was safe, sane, and consensual.
Master Reed was on that list, although, with how busy he was and traveling back and forth to Miami, Cordell wasn’t too sure the man would accept the position.
If he didn’t, it would be completely understandable.
After his conversation with Mitch the other day, Cordell had called Reed to ask the man for a favor for tonight.
While he and Tiffany couldn’t play at the exclusive club Reed and Dante were taking them to, he’d had an idea for building up his submissive’s confidence around other Doms, and Reed had readily agreed to help.
Even though Tiffany would be wearing Cordell’s collar, which should make her off-limits to other Doms, Reed had recruited a bunch of male Dominants he trusted to approach the submissive throughout the evening.
Each one would basically hit on her and try to coax her into playing with them—they were even given permission to touch her as long as it wasn’t in a sexual way.
In other words, anyone who touched her breasts, mound, or ass would get his hand broken, otherwise Cordell wouldn’t interfere.
He wanted her to find the courage to politely, and then more forcefully if necessary, refuse their advances.
He knew it would be difficult for her at first, but hopefully, she would finally get it into her head that she was the one in complete control when dealing with the Doms and not the other way around.
He wanted that confidence to flow over to her position at the resort because, undoubtedly, there would be some jackass guest who would expect the submissive employees to bow down and kiss his feet.
Cordell wanted to be sure Tiffany could handle herself in that situation if he wasn’t around to interfere.
After a pleasant dinner at a steakhouse across the street from Reed’s building, the foursome returned to the penthouse to change into more appropriate clothing for the club.
Cordell donned black, leather pants and a black lightweight button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Tiffany put on a black leather miniskirt, a red corset with black trim, black ballet slippers, and her black and white collar—he’d been pleased when she’d selected the outfit on her own.
Cordell cupped her chin. “I hope you enjoy yourself tonight, pet. While you’ll need to follow the usual club protocols, I won’t be restricting your speech.
You’re free to talk to anyone you wish or to anyone who speaks to you without getting my permission.
Since you had a glass of wine at dinner, you’re only allowed one more drink at the club. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Any questions?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so, Sir.”
“Good. Then let’s go join our hosts.”
They found the other couple waiting for them in the living room.
Reed was dressed similarly to Cordell, except his shirt was a deep crimson, and Dante was wearing faded jeans and a gray T-shirt, but it was obvious that underneath the shirt, he was wearing a harness of some sort over his torso.
As fit as the man was, when he removed his shirt, the look would surely draw appreciative looks from both sexes.
With Reed’s passkey, they were able to take the elevator all the way to the parking garage without stopping on any of the other sixty-two floors.
A limousine was waiting for them, and after they all climbed in, the trip to the club took about twenty minutes.
When they arrived, the limo pulled into another parking garage and stopped next to an elevator.
It was a nice setup to ensure privacy, since no one from the street could see them.
As the driver got out and rounded the front of the vehicle, Dante removed his shirt and left it on the seat.
The black leather harness went over his shoulders and across his broad chest and back.
When the driver opened the door, Dante climbed out, with Reed following him since they were the closest. Cordell got out next, then held out his hand to help Tiffany.
She looked beautiful tonight and took his breath away, as she often did.
Her hair was blown out in soft, luxurious waves, falling just below her shoulders.
The corset pushed her breasts up enticingly, and not for the first time since she’d gotten changed, he cursed the fact they wouldn’t be able to play at the club.
They rode the elevator up two floors and exited into a sparse lobby. There was a reception desk, a loveseat, and two burly bouncers standing between the elevator and the top of a flight of stairs.
Since none of them had to change, the small group bypassed the entrances to the men’s and women’s lounges and stopped at the reception desk.
A slender man standing behind it, wearing only black dress pants and a black and silver collar, looked up and smiled.
“Good evening, Master Reed, Dante. It’s good to see you both.
Are these your guests I was told to expect? ”
“Yes, Ambrose,” Reed acknowledged. “This is Master Cordell and his submissive, Tiffany. They’ve already been informed that they’re not allowed to play in the club.”
“Thank you, Sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Master Cordell and Tiffany. Welcome to Edge,” he said to them before turning back to Reed and handing him an iPad and a stylus. “If you’ll just sign them in, Sir, I’ll give them their wristbands.”
Apparently, like The Covenant, the club used wristbands to distinguish between guests who weren’t permitted to play and regular members. Dante had mentioned Edge had over six hundred full-time members, so it was hard to keep track of who was only visiting as a guest.
“Your wrist please, Sir,” Ambrose requested.
When Cordell held his hand over the top of the reception desk, the young man eyed his wrist, then selected one of several bands he had in front of him.
Cordell noticed they were different from ones he’d seen at various clubs in the past. These were black and resembled fitness bands, but when the two ends met, they clicked together like they were magnetized.
“The edges of the band glow red in the low light of the club. You won’t be able to take it off without coming back here to have it removed.
” He held up a small device. “This will unlock it when you’re ready to leave. ”
Cordell raised his eyebrows at the new technology.
“I like that. I have some friends who might be interested in getting them for their own club in Tampa. You wouldn’t happen to know the name of the manufacturer, would you?
” They wouldn’t be able to use them at the resort, since half the people there would be visiting guests who had permission to play, but Mitch and his cousins might like to use the technology for The Covenant.
Noah Garrison, who owned Club Domain in Vegas, which Cordell and Tiffany were still members of, might be interested in it as well.
As Tiffany held out her wrist and Ambrose checked the size, he said, “Michael Tavares from Tavares Technologies designed them. He’s a friend of Master Braxton, the club’s owner.
” Ambrose opened a drawer, retrieved a small card, and handed it to Cordell.
“Here’s Michael’s business card, Sir. Master Braxton keeps extras here for anyone who’s interested in the wristbands. ”
Cordell tucked the card into the back pocket of his leather pants. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Sir. Enjoy your evening.”
Reed led the way to a set of double doors, then held one open, allowing his guests to enter first. The dungeon looked like most other upscale ones Cordell had been in, and it felt familiar and comfortable.
Their hosts showed them around the vast club.
There were the usual public and private venues, a bar, and plenty of sitting and viewing areas.
Pulsating music was piped in through a sound system, but it was low enough to still have conversations without yelling.
The place was filled with men and women of all ages, shapes, and sizes, dressed in a broad variety of fetwear.
As in most clubs, it was easy to distinguish between Dominants and submissives by their clothing, or lack thereof, their demeanor, and whether they were wearing a collar or not.
Earlier at the restaurant, when Tiffany had gone to the ladies’ room, Reed had assured Cordell everything was set for her lesson.
He’d contacted sixteen Doms he trusted to approach Tiffany.
Reed and Dante would be staying with them all evening, so the Doms could easily figure out who Tiffany was without asking.
It didn’t take long for the first Dom to find them as they stood at the bar waiting to give their drink order.
The man was taller than Cordell but similarly built.
His hair was long enough to brush his shoulders, and he was wearing leather pants and a vest, sans shirt.
With his intense gaze and granite jawline, he would definitely intimidate Tiffany.
“Hello, little subbie. You must be new here. I’m Master Titus—and you are? ”
Tiffany’s eyes widened, and her gaze zipped to Cordell.
He wasn’t looking at her but was watching her out of the corner of his eye.
Her hand went to her collar as her gaze dropped to the floor, probably hoping the man would realize she was taken and back off.
Master Titus reached out and used his fingers to lift her chin as she shrunk into herself.
“I expect an answer, little one. Your name, please.”
She was stiff and shivering, and it took everything in Cordell not to pull her into his arms. Titus didn’t move, nor did he remove his hand. “I’m waiting, subbie.”
Her mouth opened, but it was a few moments before she whispered, “My name is . . . is T-Tiffany, Sir.”
“That’s a pretty name for a very pretty submissive. Would you like to play with me tonight, Tiffany?”
Again, she looked at Cordell to rescue her. This time, he waited a few beats and then said, “Master Titus asked you a question, pet. Please answer him.”
She licked her lips, swallowed hard, and stared at him in disbelief for several moments before turning back to the other Dom. “I’m s-sorry, Master Titus, but—but I’m collared by Master Cordell. I-I’m not interested in playing with—with anyone else, Sir.”
Titus smiled broadly and released her chin. “Master Cordell is a lucky man. It was nice to meet you, Tiffany. Have a good evening.”
As the man strode off, Tiffany eyed Cordell warily.
He could see she wanted to ask him what that whole thing had been all about.
Before she could say a word though, another Dom stepped up to her, clearly a little too close for her comfort because she tried to back away from him.
Unfortunately, Master Reed was behind her, blocking her escape as the new Dom introduced himself.
“Hello, beautiful. My name is Master Seth. Would you be interested in negotiating a scene with me?”
Again, her hand went to her collar and her gaze shot to Cordell, who ignored her unspoken question and plea.
She was still shaking, and her eyes welled up, but the tears didn’t spill over.
Master Seth ran his knuckles over her bare shoulder.
His touch and expression were gentle but still quite forward.
“We could have a good time tonight, if you want.”
Tiffany shook her head. “I-I’m sorry, Sir, but—but I’m here with Master Cordell. I-I’m not available to . . . to play with you.”
“I see. And if you were here by yourself, would that make a difference?”
She paused then shook her head even harder. “No—no, Sir. I’m sorry.”
“Honesty. I like that in a sweet submissive. I’ll leave you to your Dom then. Have a pleasant evening.”
When he stepped away, Tiffany’s entire body sagged as she had breathing room again. After a moment, she turned to Cordell, her brow furrowed. “Sir, w-what’s going on? Why are they approaching me when I have a collar on?”
Unable to help himself, Cordell kissed her furrowed brow before answering.
“Because it’s time you learned to stand up for yourself when approached and possibly harassed by someone you’re not interested in.
I want you to have the confidence you’d started to develop in Vegas but lost again since moving down here.
I want you to be able to walk into a roomful of Doms and not flinch or stutter or want to run and hide.
You’re doing a fantastic job as the assistant manager of the club, pet, but I’m afraid when we’re finally open, you’re going to fall back on your bad habits, even while working.
Without a doubt, there will be some Doms who’ll be members or guests that will remind you of Whitlow.
I want to know you’ll have the courage to face them and put them in their place, if need be, if they start shit while you’re on duty and I’m not around.
Not only for yourself, but for the other submissives who’ll be working for us.
I know you can do this, and I’m so proud of the way you handled yourself with Masters Titus and Seth.
You’ll be approached by quite a few more Doms tonight—some who will push the envelope with you.
I’ll make sure none of them go too far, but I’d rather not step in unless you really need me to. Okay?”
As he spoke, the tears that had filled her eyes began to spill over, and he brushed them away with his thumbs as his hands cradled her beautiful face, worried he’d pushed her too far. But then she smiled, and it lit up his world.