Chapter 6 #3
But she’d gone yesterday and the “open” night was terrifying. Because she had no safety net. I’m not going to admit I totally ran when someone leered at me. “I’m not exactly comfortable…”
Maybe if she paid the hefty dues to be a real member? Then she might make friends and might have people around to watch out for her.
But… Getting to know people wasn’t quick or easy. “It’s…it’s too scary to be there when I’m new. I only know you and—”
“You should volunteer,” Lynn interrupted. “You’ll get a discount on the dues and meet lots of the members.”
Ray pursed her lips. “That might work.”
“I had the same problem when I joined.” Lynn gave her a sympathetic smile.
“None of my vanilla friends wanted to visit a BDSM club. And since I’m quiet, going alone was awful.
So I tried the volunteer route. When you work with others, you don’t have to come up with small talk, and making friends is easier. ”
“I can vouch for volunteering as a method.” Bob had brown hair and a full beard, and was built so stocky and muscular, he resembled a bear. “It’s how Lynn and I met.”
Interesting. Ray smiled. “I…yes, okay. Volunteering sounds like something I should try.”
Lynn’s smile was smug as she turned to Bob. “There, I got you a new recruit.”
“Good job, snookums.” Bob nodded at Ray. “As it happens, I manage the volunteers for Chains. I always need new recruits.”
She frowned at Lynn, then couldn’t help but laugh. “You totally set me up.”
“She really did,” Hope agreed. “But it’s still good advice.”
Volunteering might work. If she had friends at the club, she could play without being afraid. The anticipation of being…touched, bound, dominated simmered inside her.
“Ray is joining Chains?” Drake set a hand on her lower back for a second as he joined the group. “And volunteering?”
Did he sound pleased—or annoyed?
“It appears Bob has a new minion.” Peter snorted, then grinned at Ray. “George would be appalled you even set foot in Chains.”
“True. However, as an adult, it is your decision.” Drake smiled ruefully. “Although now I want to apologize to him for encouraging you.”
Bob and Peter had equally sheepish expressions.
Ray snickered. Faj really would be appalled.
He’d never talked about anything sexual.
When she left for college, he handed her a box of condoms, asked her if she wanted to see a doctor to get on the pill, and added if she had questions, he’d find a woman friend to answer them.
His olive coloring had actually flushed all the way to a dark red.
Tomo was the one who told her his parents divorced when George finally admitted he was gay. During the time Ray lived with him, Faj never brought a lover home.
He sure never talked to her about BDSM.
“Women should be protected from anything having to do with sex.” Leaning toward the women, Lynn whispered, “Men and their double-standards, amiright?”
Hope and Ray grinned.
Bob cleared his throat loudly, then pulled out a business card, wrote something on the back, and handed it over. “Here’s the URL for volunteer positions at Chains and my cell number. Give it a look, call me, and we’ll talk about what you might enjoy doing.”
She glanced at it and then the other side. Apparently, he was a human resource manager at a Seattle hospital.
“Ah, excellent idea.” Drake pulled out his own card and also wrote something on the back. “My personal number. We need to set up a delivery for your woodworking projects. And I need your invoice, of course.”
Delivery and invoice? Her eyes narrowed. If he was handling those, he wasn’t some random person who’d helped plan the Elfame room’s décor.
A glance at the card in her hand showed: Dragomir Real Estate & Development. Jean-Pierre Dragomir CEO. “I guess you’re more than just the Chains police?”
From the laughter around her, she’d missed something. With her evil sense of humor, Hope might not spill, but Lynn seemed sweet. Ray turned to the brunette. “Lynn, help?”
“Non, non, no need,” Drake said before Lynn could speak. “I thought Hope would have told you, although I did enjoy being just the Chains police.”
“Tell me what?”
He gave a very Gallic shrug. “I’m one of the co-owners of Chains.”
The club owner had caught her measuring the equipment…and she’d taunted him about being the police. Why couldn’t the ground swallow her up?
“Actually, he owns over half, although several of us invested,” Peter said, sounding like the lawyer he was. “He also runs the place.”
Drake inclined his head at Peter. “With assistance and advice.”
“Uh-huh.” Bob snorted. “When we don’t agree with him, it’s more like”—his voice deepened—“Vous êtes des connards stupides.”
She caught the words for stupid—and assholes—and smothered a giggle.
“He does hate me telling him he can’t simply beat up any Top who oversteps the bounds.” Peter gave a litigator’s long-suffering sigh.
“If a Top ignores a submissive’s limits, Drake should be allowed to flatten them,” Hope said.
“Agreed.” Mac crossed her arms over her chest.
“Same,” Ray said under her breath, her shoulders hunching as shame slid through her.
When she glanced up, she realized Drake’s eyes had narrowed. His gaze was on her face, her shoulders, her hands.
She flinched. Over and over, the counselor had said the assault wasn’t Ray’s fault. It wasn’t a crime to mistakenly trust an abuser. It still felt as if she’d done something wrong. A good person wouldn’t have been taken advantage of the way she had.
Drake set a warm hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, even as he said to the others, “Next time I want to chastise a misbehaving Dom, I’ll use the upstairs stage and call it a S&M event. Chains could use the publicity from a blood-drenched beatdown.”
Peter threw his hands up with an exasperated huff. “You’re hopeless. And don’t even think about doing something like that at the convention.”
“A convention?” Ray asked. “Like a…a kink convention?”
“It’s a BDSM convention.” Hope beamed at her. “Every year, the local clubs host one at a big hotel. We’ll turn the ballroom into a giant dungeon.”
Lynn added, “There are classes about the lifestyle and workshops on different skills.”
Ray snorted. “Like Whipping 101?”
“Exactly,” Lynn agreed, not realizing Ray was being sarcastic.
“You’re serious—workshops on how to whip someone?” When everyone nodded, she asked, “What…else?”
“Oh, the usual impact stuff. Flogging, caning.” Mac grinned. “Spanking.”
“Other kinks too. The interrogation one last year was terrifying,” Hope said with a shiver. “I had nightmares.”
“Relationship dynamics. Bootblacking,” Bob told Ray. “Pony play as well. All the different kinds of bondage.”
A tremor ran through her, and when Drake’s hand tightened on her shoulder, she realized he was still touching her.
Funny how just a simple touch—from him—grounded her. Gave her courage.
She looked up. At the concern in his eyes, she managed a smile. Hey, she’d had her wrists tied and managed all right…eventually. This was something she wanted. She really did.
“Sounds like fun. I’m in.”