Page 50 of At Her Will

He’d seen plenty of shirtless men already. He wasn’t sure how he’d feel about being one of them, here in front of everyone. Had she not asked him to take off the shirt because she could tell that about him?

He chided himself for the thought. Veracity Morgan wasn’t a woman who hesitated to ask for what she wanted. She’d told him when she did order him to do something, she expected him to tell her if it made him uncomfortable in the wrong ways. If she could trust him for that, she’d be open about her own desires.

When he shed the coat, the way her gaze lingered on the pull of the shirt over his shoulders and chest told him she did appreciate that view. She unbuttoned her green jacket and pivoted, presenting her back to him. As he helped her remove it, the flared sleeves cleared her gloves and the bracelet she wore.

The lace thing she had on under it was a close fitting, sleeveless garment that showed her satin bra beneath. As she pivoted back to him, her breasts were held up in the bra, her cleavage a temptingly deep valley.

She’d given him permission to look at anything, but he was smart enough to know that didn’t include ogling his Mistress to excess. He raised his gaze to her face with effort.

“I like a hungry man, Rev,” she murmured. “Give them our coats and let’s explore.”

The coat check submissive was dressed like a fairy. Glitter on her face, hair pulled up in five or six purple streaked tails. She had on a harness to hold her wings, but that was all she wore, except various splotches of body paint. As he thanked her courteously for the stubs she handed him, her eyes twinkled.

“Have fun, newbie,” she whispered, with an amiable playfulness that surprised a smile out of him.

Vera set an arm-in-arm strolling pace for them as they moved deeper into the club. A DJ was throwing out good tunes for the dance floor, edgy, bass thumping choices that fit the environment. He was set up on a stage behind the dance floor, and Rev wondered if they ever had bands. His imagination could conjure plenty of other things for that stage, spurred by what he saw around him.

Public play areas were sectioned off with panels on three sides, creating a defined area while still allowing passers-by to look. An upper-level VIP lounge provided a premium view of those play spaces, as well as the dance floor.

Ros Thomas, Veracity’s boss, sat up there. A man stood to her left, leaning against the booth. While his body seemed relaxed, there was a military or law enforcement watchfulness to him. His hand rested on the section of the booth next to her. As Rev watched, Ros reached for it to caress his fingers. She was talking to Cyn.

“That’s Lawrence,” Veracity told him.

She’d touched on Ros being in a relationship with Lawrence, but she’d also mentioned how some Mistresses had more than one sub. “Is he one of her…regulars?”

“He’s her only.” Vera’s gaze lifted to meet his. “Claimed for life. Not married yet, but when Ros decides she’s ready for that, it will only confirm what they already are.”

A commotion, loud enough to rise above the music, had Rev turning. He couldn’t process what he saw charge through a bead screen archway fast enough to figure out if it was a threat or not, but he did put himself between them and Veracity. Then stared as humans, mostly male and dressed like dogs, raced past them.

Many had on full head masks with long snouts and pointed ears. Others just had floppy cloth ears and painted black noses. Some wore clothing in doglike colors; brown, black, spotted. Faux fur paws covered some hands. Others simply wore jeans and no shirts with their dog parts.

The lead “dog,” a shirtless male in a full head mask, bumped into a Dom wielding a cane, a burly man with salt and pepper colored hair and beard. He wore black jeans, jack boots and a black T-shirt. When he gave the “dog” a healthy smack with the cane and scolded him, the leader and the rest of the pack cowered apologetically. Then he rubbed his head against the older male’s shoulder and upper arm.

The Master hooked his fingers into the dog’s collar, around the neck of the mask, and gave him a light shake. Then he shoved him away with a stern but indulgent look. The pack dashed off joyously, disappearing into another part of the club.

“Puppy play,” Veracity said. “There are different versions of it. Pony play, kitten play.”

As she explained more about it, Rev thought of the playground near his place. When he drank his Saturday morning coffee there, he’d seen the children act like barnyard animals, or dogs or cats. He guessed people never outgrew the desire for make-believe, but this was also very adult play. The lead dog had tight leather on his lower body, and he’d rubbed it against theDom’s leg with a devotion that suggested the bearded male was his own Master. Or someone he’d played with before.

The Domme with the sub in nipple clamps returned to Rev’s mind. The man had been in obvious pain, but even inside that cage, he’d been as erect as the space would allow. And he’d looked at his Mistress like he feverishly wanted to please her.

Sacrifice, service, proof of what he’d endure for her. The element of faith in it was hard to deny. Faith in the strength of what was between them. Perhaps not love, but a form of devotion that gave them both something. Even if only while they were here. Like church on Sunday, giving people something to carry through the rest of their week to help them live their lives.

He thought of the apostle Peter, who, when he was crucified by the Romans, had asked to be crucified upside down. He hadn’t felt worthy of being crucified in the manner his Lord and Master had been. A sign of devotion and love. Of sacrifice.

Plenty of Bible stories like that. He thought of Mary of Bethany, anointing Jesus’s feet in oil, drying them with her hair. Carrying that scent with her…

“There’s nothing I won’t do for you, Rev,”Teena Joy had told him.“My love for you is a reflection of my love for the Lord, because you are a gift from Him.”

“Still with me?” Veracity touched his arm.

“Yeah. Just…my mind going in lots of directions.”

She studied him. “You feel up to looking some more, or do you need a break?”

“I’d like to keep looking, if that okay with you.”

“Yes. We’ll go to a quieter spot for a moment, though.” He could feel her attention as she gripped his hand, her shoulder brushing his arm. She led him past the dance floor, through another beaded curtain, into a new direction for his mind.

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