Page 41 of Dominant

“That’s quite the show,” I commented dryly to Mark, who made a non-committal sound as he lifted drinks off a servant’s tray. We sipped in silence, watching as the initiate at Merriman’s feet lost himself to his pleasure and came, and then turned to each other.

“Have you seen Jordan today?” I asked.

“You mean Number Six?” he corrected me. “No. I was told she was still sleeping.”

The initiates tended to adopt a nocturnal schedule since so much was demanded of them at night. Usually the House of Initiates was very quiet during the day, when they were sleeping.

“There are some challenges with the Chateau Andilet takeover.” I debriefed him on my call with the Andilets, and my discovery of Jordan’s shares.

“That’s good news, though,” he countered. “I’m sure Jordan will sell you her shares. That’s more than enough for a controlling interest.”

“That’s not what I want from her, Mark. She owns less of that business than anyone else in her family. It’s unfair for her to be the one who gets cut out completely.”

He gave me a look. “You’re not telling me you’re more concerned about one of the shareholders than about the business itself?”

“I don’t like the way they do business.”

“Take a look around here,” he cocked his head toward Merriman, who was finally reaching his climax. “We need more space. This is a club for exploring your individual fantasies. It’s becoming a very expensive way for our other members to be in a sexual relationship with Sir Vicious.”

I cracked a smile, and then dropped my head as I breathed a laugh. Mark and I necessarily had to be non-judgmental about our members’ activities and proclivities, but he had a point. The business needed space to thrive.

“You ready for tonight?” I asked him.

He grinned widely. “Been looking forward to it all day.”

After my drink, I walked over to the House of Initiates to wake Jordan up. I entered her room without knocking, as was customary. Initiates were not entitled to privacy. I sat on the edge of the bed and threaded my fingers through her thick hair - hair I wanted to roughly yank back during a lewd sexual act, but wouldn’t allow myself to. She didn’t wake up, and I took a moment to just look at her - her beautiful face in utter repose, full lips lightly parted, the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

I hadn’t come to the club the previous night, instructing Mark to keep an eye on her from a distance while my associate, Sir Darkness, toured her around the club on a leash, watching various scenes and talking about the BDSM lifestyle with her.

I wanted to put some distance between us, whether to punish her or cool my own heels, I wasn’t sure. The night after Maggie’s punishment, things had gotten heated between us, and I decided it was best if we had a night apart.

After the scene with Maggie, I wanted to slow things down again to ease Jordan into her contract. Once again, I’d brought her to the club in nipple clamps and let the other members touch her, pushing the boundaries until I didn’t feel she could stand any longer. I was delighted by how much she could take, how far she would go, standing still and resolute while men touched her and put their fingers inside of her. I loved how much she wanted to please me.

When she was on the verge of collapse I led her back to the House of Initiates and this time I watched as a servant bathed her, all too aware of how soft I was being with her. The servant kept glancing nervously at me, worried, perhaps, that I was testing him somehow. It was highly unusual for a Dom to be in the House of Initiates at all, let alone watching the private rituals that took place in that house. And that was the problem. When it came to Jordan, I was too interested, too watchful.

After her bath, I tucked Jordan into bed, wondering what would happen if I kissed her. Just a kiss and nothing more. Wasn’t it too late anyway for not getting involved with my partners’ daughter? I thought to myself. If sexual servitude wasn’t “getting involved,” then what was?

But it was something else that made me want to keep her at arms’ reach. A sense that she could consume me, that I would lose myself in her. I didn’t want her to have any power over me. I wanted to own her, not be owned by her.

She had smiled at me watching her, and then reached out, touching my face gently and saying in a seductive voice, “Why don’t you kiss me, Sir X?”

It was too familiar, too forward, and I’d pulled away, anger settling over my features as I said plainly, “No.”

“Why?” she said plaintively, the corners of her beautiful mouth turning down. Her whole face changed with her disappointment. “Why do you flirt with me and pull away? I remember what you said that first night, you know. That you would never fuck me. Then why are you here? Why do you look at me like that? Like… like you’re hungry. Why do you tuck me into bed at night and wake me up every day? The House Mother says I’m the only sub who’s ever been under your protection! Why, if not for that?”

Her confrontation provoked something in me, and I answered more harshly than I intended. “You’re the one who put yourself in this situation, Jordan. I’m not trying to expose you to this lifestyle, I’m trying to look out for you, to protect you from yourself. You still don’t know what you signed up for because you get treated differently. The only sub that’s ever been under my protection? Yes, that is correct. You’re the only initiate to ever receive special treatment, because this isn’t your world. You don’t belong here.”

Her cheeks flushed an angry red and her eyes flashed. “How can you say that?! I never asked for special treatment - you’re the one who’s treating me differently! You think I don’t belong here because you don’t want to fuck me. Just because you don’t find me attractive doesn’t mean I don’t have any value.”

“It’s not like that,” I snarled, reaching out and grabbing her bruised wrist. I squeezed my fingers around it, staring back into her blazing eyes, and realized she still had the elastic band around her wrist. I looked down at it suddenly and started to pull it off, and she pulled her arm back in protest, crying out, “No!”

“Initiates are not allowed any accessories beside the necklace,” I hissed. “If you don’t want any special treatment, then it’s about time I started treating you like the others.” Holding her arm with my free hand, I yanked the band over her hand. Tears sprung to her eyes.

“You won’t treat me like the others,” she cried, “because you would fuck any of them, but you only toy with me. You make a spectacle of me and then tell me outright that I’m not good enough for you.”

Mark had once told me he thought I was a control freak because beneath the surface was a maelstrom of emotion I was afraid I couldn’t contain. He wasn’t wrong. I was quick to anger and often reacted quickly.

In this case, pushed too far, I leaned in close and spoke as cruelly as I could to Jordan. “I don’t fuck just anybody, initiate. The Master of the House only fucks the best.”

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