Page 9 of What About Love

As he strode through the bar, he offered a nod, a silent chin lift or the flick of his hand to the members he knew. That was all the greeting he intended, however. He’d shoot the shit or share a beer with them later. First up was finding a sweet, soft, eager submissive to tie over a bench or spread-eagle on a cross and fuck until her cries of pleasure announced that Master T had returned to Club Decadence.

He chuckled as he laid his thumb on the scanner. Those thoughts originated from his brain and even he found them irritatingly egotistical. But even his own arrogance wouldn’t dampen his mood.

When the doors unlatched, admitting him to the inner sanctum, the recognizable scents of leather and sex inundated his senses. Standing still, he let the atmosphere surround him, absorbing the strident sounds of domination and submission. God, how he loved this place.

“T, my man!”

He turned at the familiar voice to find Sean approaching, his arm around Mara’s shoulders. The last time he’d seen them was at the hospital, the circumstances much more somber. T’s eyes swept over his friend’s submissive wife, his lips tilting up in a grin as he took in her bunny costume, complete with fuzzy ears and a cottontail.

His friend had a thing for costumes and as pretty as his sub appeared in hers tonight, T didn’t blame him. His gaze flicked to Sean, and they shared an amused glance over the head of the fuming fluffy bunny who had her hands bound behind her back and a bit gag in her mouth.

When T looked back at her, he noted Mara’s green eyes, ablaze with indignation, had fixed on her master.

“Silly rabbit,” he teased, with a slow shake of his head. “Haven’t you learned yet that doms don’t like to be glared at?”

Obviously not because her infuriated gaze shifted to him.

“Sean, buddy. You clearly didn’t put enoughoomphin your paddling, because now she’s scowling at me.”

“I haven’t done it yet. Never doubt she’ll be like well-behaved putty in my hands by the time I’m done with her. Won’t you, Mara-mine?” As he posed the question that she was physically incapable of answering, he wiped her chin with a towel. His little bunny mumbled something indiscernible behind her gag.

T had to laugh. Though he couldn’t understand a single garbled word, he was 100 percent certain it wasn’t complimentary.

“What are you waiting for?” He didn’t suppress his smile when Mara bristled, as he knew she would. “You know the rule of thumb for punishment.”

“Spare the rod?” Sean inquired.

“No. I was thinking more like there’s no time like the present.”

“I believe I’m the one who taught you that, puppy,” Sean quipped, good-naturedly.

T allowed his slur about his youth to roll off his back, used to it following a decade of ribbing as the youngest in their unit. “I’m making the rounds for Dex,” Sean explained. “He’s interviewing a new member in his office.”

“You’ve been busy with that. I didn’t recognize half the people in the bar.” His gaze swept the cavernous room. “That goes double for in here.”

“Thirty new members in three months,” he stated proudly. “With all the crap last year, we needed an influx of new members. As you know, there was a time we were leery of admitting anyone new. With all that behind us, we’re all over the waiting list.”

“I’ll get to know them quickly enough, I suppose. For tonight, I’ve got a taste for something sweet.”

Sean tilted his head toward a dais that hadn’t been there when he’d left. Set back out of the way, the elevation allowed viewing of the entire floor. A half dozen lovely submissives graced the plush burgundy couches as they eagerly watched the scenes play out.

“That’s new.”

“A sub-in-waiting area,” the co-managing partner disclosed, giving his own sub’s shoulders a squeeze. “Mara had the idea after talking to several of the submissives. They felt lost in the crowd, many uncomfortable approaching a dom if they found one they wanted to play with. The single doms were having as hard a time finding them. Now, those who are interested in playing can wait from the couches for their dominant prince to come claim them. Those are my nightingale’s flowery words, not mine. But it has turned out to be very effective.”

T grinned with approval. “Excellent idea, Mara. You’ve corralled my prey into one convenient location.”

When Mara’s eyes flared wide, he could only imagine the wicked grin on his face. She didn’t understand what a steady diet of a single flavor—sadly, vanilla—or self-denial did to a man. He spotted two pretty blondes, one he wouldn’t mind having a second taste of and one who was brand new.

He clapped Sean soundly on the shoulder. “You might have to put Mara on the payroll, my man. She devised the Sultan’s chamber upstairs and now this.”

“Wait until you see the play garden out back. Besides the heated fountains she selected, there is plenty of greenery for a private play or craftily designed benches out in the open if one is so inclined. But the best part is the adult playground equipment: swings, a merry-go-round, and a see-saw. The wood is all sanded to a satin smooth finish, so there’s no worry about splinters in tender places. Most everything has recessed compartments so that implements are readily at hand. There are also some cleverly placed slots for custom-made attachments, if you catch my drift, on the see-saw most notably.”

An image took shape in his head of the standard playground device he’d used often enough as a kid. But now that he was a horny man, each seat came equipped with a phallic-shaped device. Atop each dong sat a submissive rider, heads thrown back in delight, lips parted as they cried out their pleasure, bobbing breasts quivering and bouncing as they teetered up and down. The mini-fantasy had his cock twitching inside his leather pants.

He shot Mara a wholly appreciative look for her wicked imagination.

Sean was watching her, too, his mouth quirking with humor as her face flamed a brilliant red. “My girl has a naughty streak a mile wide, thank god! Once you check out the garden, you have to see the new jailhouse-theme room upstairs. It’s complete with free-standing cell, appropriate inmate, and prison guard costumes and shackles, so when confined, naughty prisoners have to stay exactly where the warden puts them.”

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