Chapter 2
Rye
"Iguess Kink or Dare night has become a good little profit center for our newest establishment."
I fold my hands in front of my chin, elbows perched on the chrome and glass desk I’m sitting behind. “
Leo, one of my partners in the club and event segment of my investment business, sits across from me, nodding, his dark hair slicked back into a helmet, hands cupped behind his head as he stretches out in the black leather chair, knees wide.
"I told you, Kink or Dare works, especially with the newbies. You gotta give people a reason to come in. And we need a constant flow of new people. Kink ebbs and flows. You lose people every month who decide to put their fetishes on ice for whatever reason. Overall membership in most clubs was down by five percent last year. A lotta people won’t admit they're kinky, but everybody is.
So, you make it into a game. Everybody wants to gamify fucking everything these days.
" He smiles, his gold incisor flashing in the LEDs glowing behind the molding that lines the edges of the ceiling in the club's main office.
I've invested in many clubs over the years.
Hole-in-the-wall pubs, back when I first started, all the way up to massive BDSM and kink spaces, upscale bars and event venues.
Even some underground fight clubs. My money has returned to me a thousandfold, and I get to not sit in a fucking office for a living.
Win fucking win.
I have one foot in the civilized world, while the other gets to keep dancing in the darkness where my heart is most comfortable.
The wall behind Leo is covered with monitors showing different areas and angles of the club, even the parts few dare to enter.
Club Echo serves the kinky world, but ultimately, I'm here for the money.
Cash is my king, if I'm being honest. And when you provide fully tiled rooms that can be hosed down with high-powered water after a scene, I think there's a sizable portion of this country that has no idea what some people will consent to having done to them. Or doing to others.
I don't judge. Everybody's fucked up. Everyone has something that turns them on they wouldn’t like exposed to the world.
"You going to come out on the floor tonight?" Leo stretches his arms overhead and pushes up out of his chair, spinning as he runs a hand over the top of his hair, checking the monitors where a few regulars are finishing up their scenes.
On newbie nights, we dial back the more extreme elements. But when someone offers three times the hourly rate to use one of the special rooms, it's hard to say no.
I clear my throat and knock the side of my fist against my lips. My mind is not in the game tonight. But I need to focus. There's work to do.
"Yeah. I'll be out there. Somebody's got to keep an eye on all you fucktards who lose your heads the second a fresh meat walks in."
Leo shoots me a hard look. "I'm poly, man, what can I say? I like variety, but I'm totally upfront about it with my girls. You'd be surprised how many of them want a Daddy and don't mind how many other littles are part of the group home." He lets out a dark chuckle.
I push up from the desk, rolling my head around on my neck.
The only little I'd want in my life is a completely off-limits, fucked-up fantasy. It’s my niece who tortures me day and night. She turned eighteen this year, and I think my dick celebrated her birthday by getting hard and staying hard for twenty-four hours straight.
Now, because my identical twin brother, who is, honestly, the more upright of the two of us, ended up getting his ass in a serious pickle and had to be flown out to San Diego for some HR-approved rehab situation so the school where he’s the vice-principle can cover their ass, and because image means more to him and his wife than dealing with real business, guess who's standing in for him?
I’m going to be driving his car. A fucking mini-van for God’s sake.
I’m going to be staying at his house. Sleeping in his bed. Mowing the fucking lawn.
I haven’t mowed a lawn in twenty-years.
But, the worst part. I’ll be sleeping right next to the source of my deviant obsession.
"Well." Leo gives the monitors one last scan before turning back my way.
"Eight o'clock. Doors are open. Look at that, they're streaming in.
" He takes one more look back at the people coming through the door.
"Rye, man, look at that trio. They look about sixteen. Are we not checking IDs at the door?"
I follow his eyes to the monitor. Three girls who do look pretty fucking young are coming through the entrance. "They better be checking IDs, and everybody better be signing their waivers. Or there are going to be a few new additions to the unemployment line."
“I’ll have Sam double-check,” Leo says.
He might act like he’s thinking with his dick, but like most people in this industry, he’s a good guy deep down. Anyone hints at interest in anything underage, we’re the first to dig up evidence and turn it over to the police.
Or, on occasion, I’ve put a more permanent end to filth that crossed certain lines. With me, there are things that don’t allow you a second chance and I have enough friends in all walks of life that are more than happy to help me with the cleanup duties when necessary.
I run my hands over my face, knowing I only have a few more hours here before I have to go face my demons back at my brother's house. Playing daddy to the girl who has my dick on a leash.
"Let's go." I snap at Leo, nodding toward the office door. "Let's get this night over with."
He scoffs. "Get this night over with? What’s your deal? What’s with your perpetual disinterest in life’s more hedonistic pleasures? Is there something I don't know?"
"There's a lot of fucking things you don't know, Leo. There's a reason for that. Stay out of my personal life, and we'll continue to get along just fine. Let's go."
We work our way through the back halls, passing staff dressed in everything from black leather barely-there straps—tits out, ass out—to one of our guys who's deep into his puppy play. Out on the floor, at least fifty new patrons have already cleared the paperwork and are milling around.
Some look nervous as hell. Others are laughing, joking, and pointing.
Kink or Dare has been good to us. But other than the money, women have been an afterthought for me for a long time.
I could count back the years. More than a decade since I partook in anything more than my own hand.
It’s efficient and I don’t have to talk to it.
My body gets its release. It's been enough.
Until the last few months, anyway.
Now, Elodie is the only thing that gets me off. And being that I'm her father's identical twin brother makes things more than complicated.
Stepfather, I remind myself, though I’m not sure it makes a difference. He raised her. I met her at the rehearsal dinner for his wedding to Adrienne.
I’m a fucking asshole is what I am.
I do my best to push away the thoughts of the dark, sinful things I'd do to my step-niece if I ever got the chance, and try to focus on business. I make my rounds, sticking to the corners and edges of the room, making sure everyone understands this is not a free-for-all.
The first hour, all the fresh newcomers are oriented to the space.
They’re told how the evening works, what consent means, safe words are taken.
Soft and hard limits are discussed and noted.
Then the doors reopen and in come the more experienced doms, daddies, and others who have been vetted and paid their hefty fee to participate in the evening.
Leo takes the center of the room and launches into his usual opening speech before he starts calling the first names.
He's barely ten words in when my blood turns cold.
I swallow against the ball lodging in my throat as my eyes lock onto the blonde beauty sitting between a well-dressed girl and a guy in red leather pants. I know her. Know all three of them.
Fucking Elodie.
Why is she here? God. Vulnerability radiates off her. She does not belong here.
And she has no idea I'm involved in these clubs. There’s a reason for that. I can see the tension in her shoulders from across the room. I know her body like I know my own pulse.
I know her friend Anna next to her as well. Good kid, gives Elodie a little bit of reality she needs but also pushes her to dance with more real life than sometimes makes me comfortable.
The guy with them is Jeremy. I don’t know him as well. Elodie talks about him and I’ve seen him around the house. He's no threat. She's not his type.
Still, seeing her walking in here in that fuck me dress and make me come heels turns my stomach inside out and turns my fingers to fists. Because there are going to be dicks out in here pretty soon, and God knows what else.
I know most of the regulars here and a fresh sweet tart like Elodie? Most of these guys as dominant and controlled as they may be, would give their left nut for a taste of her lollipop.
She's focused on Leo as he speaks. I battle the blood rushing to my cock which is already tenting my black slacks. Something that for me, has never happened here. In a club like this, it wouldn't raise an eyebrow.
Her wide, naive eyes dart around the room. I'm in the farthest back corner, in the shadows. She can't see me. But she's under a bright light, and other male patrons are already zeroing in on her. Drooling. Lusting.
And, not just for sex. Dominants crave other things and a blank slate of sweetness and insecurity is just the ticket to make them feral.
Leo's voice cuts through my growing madness.