his drink—water too—the gold cufflink in the shape of a whip on his shirt sleeve glinting in the overhead light.
“I don’t feel as safe as I should.” I smiled tightly.
“Is that anything to do with me?” He put his glass down. “I could leave you be. Really, it isn’t a problem.”
I wish it was a problem. I wish you didn’t want to leave me.
“No.” I stopped him walking away by covering his wrist with my hand. “No. It isn’t you.” I patted his arm then took my hand off, embarrassed I’d touched him so readily. I glanced around. “Can’t you see? There’s no one keeping an eye on things these days. People are just…doing whatever they want. It isn’t comfortable anymore. I no longer like playing here. I set off earlier thinking I would—you know, play—but…”
I turned back to look at him, reading his face as best I could. He frowned, glancing about, tucking his lower lip between his teeth. He was studying the people, I assumed, then he raised his eyes to the four corners of the room.
“I see,” he said again. “I’ve seen for a while now. There are no cameras here. No staff keeping watch. It’s the same with other places. No policing, for want of a better word. No rules—and if there are any, they’re not being followed, as far as I can tell. It seems one can just walk in off the street and join in. No contracts—at least I didn’t have to sign one on my first visit. Did you?”
“No. I should have asked for one, I know, but… Putting myself at risk…”
“Indeed.”
He studied my face, seeming to come to some kind of conclusion about me.
I wanted to ask him what he’d seen.
“What do you want from a place like this?” he asked.
I sighed. What I wanted wasn’t here or anywhere else—except maybe him. The type of club I wanted to be a part of possibly didn’t exist. Or if it did, I hadn’t heard about it.
I closed my eyes for a second, then, “I wish—”
“There was a safer place to go?”
* * * *
Now
I smiled at the memory and squeezed Mr. M’s hand tighter. Soon after that, he would become Master M, the man I’d given my complete trust to.
“And so,” he said, smiling at the crowd, “we’d like to perform for you. Some of you are new to this and will perhaps have found a few shows more risqué than you’d expected—more painful, more intense. You may well reach that level at some point, but if you don’t, it doesn’t mean you don’t belong here. Everyone who has a penchant for our way of life is welcome, however deep you go into it. Maybe you’ll be content with just dipping a toe into the water, and maybe you won’t. It’s your journey, your choice, and above all, you must know that you’re safe here. At no time must you feel threatened, frightened or unsure.” He paused. “If you do, come and see me. I’m always at the front door. Unless, of course, I’m on stage—which isn’t often—or speaking to guests in another part of the cottage. Again, that isn’t often. The man who stands in for me during those times is a newcomer to my staff, an old and trusted friend you will know as Master Harry. But people here are respectful, therefore there’s no need for me to leave my post at the door except for the two things I mentioned.” He scoured the gathering with his gaze. “And I sincerely hope that doesn’t change.”
People looked at him with something close to adoration—and relief. I knew how some clubs could be, where deviants stalked. Some people weren’t really interested in rules and respect—weren’t really interested in the lifestyle at all.
They came to find someone to hurt.
Mr. M covered our joined hands with his other. Patted mine then brushed his thumb back and forth over my skin. He knew what I might be thinking, what memory might sneak back into my mind because of what he’d said. His goal in maintaining a safe environment was his primary one. Under no circumstances was a man or woman to endure
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