Two years ago…
Kendric
“What do you think, Kendric?”
I tap my lips, considering his words before glancing at Roman. “I don’t know. She’s an out-of-control masochist. Of that there’s no doubt. She doesn’t seem inclined to use a safeword under any circumstances.” I run a hand over the top of my head and lean back in my chair.
I’m in Roman’s office. It’s after hours. Surrender closed thirty minutes ago. I’m certain Roman has better things to do than sit here in the middle of the night discussing a new club member’s status.
Granted, knowing Roman, his Little girl, Lucy, is tucked into bed in their mansion sound asleep. Nevertheless, I know Roman would rather be snuggled up to his wife than still at Surrender. But this is important.
Roman rubs a hand down his face. He looks tired. “She knows the rules. She obeys them.”
“As far as we know,” I point out.
Roman nods. “True. Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she has a high tolerance for pain and enjoys every minute of it.”
I wince. As one of the head dungeon monitors for Surrender, I’ve paid very close attention to Giana Parks on every one of her five visits under her temporary pass. She knows proper etiquette, she indeed obeys club rules, and the Doms love to dominate her.
“She needs a sponsor,” Roman says.
“I figured.” I take a deep breath.
“I’m not asking you to sponsor her, of course. I can do it. The club can do it. Hell, any number of people can sponsor her. I’m just asking if you think we should extend that sponsorship and for how long.”
I clear my throat. “Why are you asking for my advice exactly?”
Roman smiles and lifts both brows.
I groan.
“Admit it. She intrigues you. I’ve seen you watching her.”
“She’s cute,” I defend. “Everyone watches her.”
Roman chuckles and leans forward on his elbows. “I need to get home. This is your call.”
I stare at the club owner, wishing the man wasn’t so damn perceptive. “I’ll sponsor her.”
Roman lifts a brow again. “I said it didn’t need to be you.”
“I’ll do it. But I’m not going to dominate her, and I don’t want her to know who’s paying her dues.”
“Never say never,” Roman jokes.
“She’s too young,” I point out. “Green.”
“She’s twenty. Lucy was only twenty-two when she started coming to my club.”
“There’s a big difference between twenty and twenty-two,” I state.
“Maybe, but I was forty. You’re what? Thirty-four?”
“Yes.”
“Less of an age gap. Just don’t rule anything out,” Roman says as he rises to his feet.
I stand also. “She’s not Little.”
Roman laughs. “Neither was Lucy.” He picks up his jacket and slides into it. “As far as she knew,” he adds.
I roll my eyes. “Giana’s a masochist. I’m not a sadist. I’m a Daddy Dom. The most contact a submissive is ever going to get out of me is a swat on the bottom for misbehaving.”
Roman shrugs. “We’ll see.”
I follow him out of the office and the building. After waving goodbye, I get in my car and start the engine, waiting for it to heat for a few minutes.
As I rub my hands on my thighs, I think about Giana. Roman is perceptive. I’m intrigued by Giana. She’s smoking hot. I love watching her perform. Something about her makes her look as though she’s been playing in clubs for far longer than actually possible.
There’s no club in the Seattle area that will permit anyone under the age of eighteen to step through the front door. So where did Giana learn everything she knows?
She’s had two years, but when she filled out her temporary membership form, she indicated this was the first club she’d visited. Just to be certain that was the case, Roman had checked with other local clubs. No one had heard of her.
Giana is mysterious. Tanned skin, brown eyes, dark blond waves that hang long down her back. She usually wears her hair in a ponytail or with half of it pinned up while the back hangs loose.
Giana has shown no inclination she’s Little. There are a lot of Littles who belong to Surrender. After all, Lucy is Little. All of her friends and their friends come to the club because it’s a safe environment for them.
Giana ignores the daycare area. She gravitates toward the hardcore Doms who enjoy floggers, whips, canes, and any other implement of pain imaginable.
After only five weeks visiting the club, Giana has endured nearly all manner of impact play without using a safeword. She doesn’t even cry. She takes deep breaths, closes her eyes, and seems to go into her head while she’s being dominated. It’s mesmerizing. It’s like she leaves her body.
I have basic knowledge of impact play, but it’s not my thing. Twenty-year-old women are not my thing either. She may be sexy and fun to watch, but I’m not touching her with a ten-foot pole.
Nope. Hands off. Besides, what difference does it make? It’s not as if I could proposition her for a scene. I don’t enjoy the sort of kink she’s drawn to. She probably hasn’t even noticed me once in her five visits. Why would she?
Chapter 1
Two years later…
Giana
“That man is unflappable,” Hannah says as she stuffs her bag of street clothes into a locker.
I groan. “Truth.”
“How long have you been flirting with him? He doesn’t budge.”
“Practically since I met him two years ago. And you’re right. He doesn’t give me the time of day. He mostly scowls at me with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. Makes me feel like I’ve done something naughty that needs punishment.” I sigh.
Hannah giggles as she turns toward the mirror and starts putting her hair up in pigtails. “There’s nothing wrong with being naughty.”
I lean against the counter to watch my friend part her long brown hair down the middle before gathering it into two sections and adding hairbands. The two low pigtails behind her ears make her look significantly younger than her real age.
Then again, it might be the thigh-high socks, Mary Janes, short plaid skirt, and white blouse. Apparently tonight’s costume is sexy schoolgirl. It works on Hannah. She can totally pull it off.
As Hannah teases her hair out so the pigtails are kind of wild, she glances at me. “All I know is that when he dominates me or any other Little in this club, it infuriates you.” She lifts her brows.
I dip my head to fiddle with the top edge of my black leather corset, making sure my tits are covered. Though why should I care? They aren’t likely to remain covered for long. I plan to do a scene tonight. I often end up naked. “That’s not true.”
Hannah cocks a hip out and sets one hand on it. All she needs is a giant wad of gum and she will have perfected the bratty teen package. “How long have we known each other, Giana?”
I groan. “Two years. We joined Surrender at about the same time. Why are you asking me a rhetorical question?”
“Because I know you well. You have the hots for Kendric Harris. Don’t deny it.”
I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Who doesn’t? He’s hot.” He’s way past hot. The man is on fire. Dark skin, dark hair he keeps
trimmed close to his head, and dark eyes that penetrate anyone he makes eye contact with.
Too bad he’s a Daddy Dom because no way can I get into that scene. The thought of pretending to be a ditzy teenager like Hannah or a five-year-old like a lot of the other Littles, including Lucy, simply doesn’t appeal to me.
Why would I want to be a child again? It wasn’t all that fun the first time. A perpetual repeat sounds revolting.
It doesn’t matter how hot Kendric is. He isn’t a sadist, and I’m not a Little. Our kinks don’t mesh. But damn, he’s fine to look at. I can drool over him all I want. Doesn’t mean I would scene with him.
Sure, it would be cool if he noticed me and came over to my side of the tracks—the kinky masochist side—but he has never shown any interest in me, so I’m wasting my time.
I don’t know why I bother to flirt with him in the first place. He’s way out of my league. Even if he did want to dominate me by securing me to a St. Andrew’s cross and caning my naked ass, it would end there, and then I’d be even more absurdly interested in him.
Two years. That’s a long time to fawn over a man one or two nights a week without actually exchanging more than a few words of conversation once or twice a month.
“Hey, Giana.”
“Hi, Sir.”
That’s the extent of our verbal discourse. Pitiful.
“Who are you planning to scene with tonight?” Hannah asks me.
“Mistress Claudia.” She is one of the best Dommes I’ve ever met or seen in my two years coming to Surrender. I love performing with her. Even though I suspect she’s bisexual, she doesn’t hit on me. She’s very professional. She gives me exactly what I need and I don’t have to worry about possibly having to wave off her advances afterward.
Hell, maybe it’s me. Maybe she’s not attracted to me. Either way, it’s easy because she never suggests we fuck after a scene.
“Ooh. I might come watch that. I love watching Mistress Claudia. She’s so sexy when she performs.”
I grin. “I guess so.”
Hannah laughs. “There are other people on Earth besides Kendric, you know. Claudia is definitely one of them.”
“Yep. She for sure is.” I just don’t care.
Hannah tucks her strawberry lip gloss into her bra and takes a deep breath. “Let’s go have some fun.”
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