CHAPTER1
POE COLLIER
Ignoring the ringing of my cell phone is my special talent. I’ve cultivated it this year especially. It’s called the ‘I don’t wanna, not gonna’ skill. And I excel at it. I should change the ringtone. I should block the number.
I do neither of those things. In my heart, I can’t bear to accept closing that chapter. It doesn’t matter that it’s been eleven months, three weeks, and six days since I set foot inside the doors of Club Sin with the intention of scening with a Dom. My inner subbie longs to get back into the playroom.
For all intents and purposes, it’s been a year since the night that fucked with my head and my vibe. It nearly took my life and absolutely extinguished my kinkster urges, which has made it kinda hard to maintain my membership at the club and my status as a freely available house sub.
The whole thing had been the mistake of a rookie play partner who didn’t have nearly enough rope experience for what he attempted. His intentions had been good, but the execution, well the tangled up knots, had almost been an accidental execution of the permanent sort.
Everyone’s sorry it happened. The club is sorry. Master Shane, club concierge and master of ceremonies, is sorry. The guy I’d played with that night is so, so sorry. Nobody’s sorrier than me. I’ve known I’m a submissive since before I even realized what sexual submission is. Once I figured that out? I’ve never had vanilla sex bring me to the famed Big Finish.
I can only find release when I teeter on the ledge between control and sub-space. It’s been more than a year since I found that magical precipice. Maybe, that’s why I can’t change the special ringtone I have for Club Sin and Master Shane. Maybe, that’s why I don’t block the number. And maybe, that’s why I answer now.
“Poe. You picked up.”
“I mean, that’s kinda the way phones work. Sir.” Instinct forces the honorific from me. Despite my lingering fears, respect for Dominants is such an intrinsic part of me I can’t help it. Besides, Shane saved me. Literally saved my life as I hung limp and breathless during a suspension scene in the communal Club Sin demo room.
Were it not for him realizing something was wrong that night, that I was unable to safe word out of danger, I wouldn’t be here today. Giving him a title of respect is the least I can do. Even if it’s also the most I can manage.
“I don’t think that’s how you intended to speak to me, Sub. Rewind and try again.” His words are soft but firm, and the impulse to drop my eyes to the floor and kneel in my own apartment, alone, is strong.
“Sorry, Sir. Yes, I answered the phone. How may I serve you?” Shane and I have never scened together. He’s a Pleasure Dom, serving up orgasm overloads and sweet rewards for good girls and boys who submit to his wishes. Before The Incident, I liked my playtimes a little rougher. Sometimes, at night, I still flip through the secret photos folder on my phone to look at the photos I’ve collected of the marks and bruises I’ve been gifted over the years.
It breaks my heart to think I might never get back to a place, psychologically, where I feel safe enough to misbehave and earn enough swats across my backside to leave me tender the next day. I can watch. I can serve as an assistant at Club Sin handling errands and small tasks for Shane and the others who are in charge. I just don’t know what it will take to get me through the block that prevents me from feeling strong enough to slip into my pet persona and let my inner fox kit out to play.
“I have an assignment for you. Do not hang up the phone before you hear me out, and do not interrupt me. You know the rules. Are we clear?” Master Shane sounds as serious as I’ve ever heard him, and a shiver of apprehension chases along my spine as his commands make the rules of being on scholarship at Club Sin race through my memories.
As an uncollared sub, one who is afforded membership to the exclusive BDSM club despite never in a hundred years being able to afford it, there are rules beyond the traditional membership requirements I have to follow. I must volunteer time to the club, lending help wherever my skill set lies. For me, it means I lend a lot of my event planning talents to helping organize big events. I’m also required to show respect to the Club’s leadership, of which Shane is one.
“I know the rules, Master Shane, and I will listen completely.” I settle on a chair in my tiny kitchenette, my back straight and my hands in my lap. The phone is on Bluetooth in my ear and my ankles are crossed and tucked under the chair. Headspace is important, and Master Shane has drawn forward my submissive tendencies with his firmly spoken commands.
“Good girl.” Those two words rocket through me like a bullet train, flooding my system with pleasure endorphins.
“Club Sin has approved the membership of three men who are determining whether forming a triad around a central female pivot is the relational structure they desire. Within their trio, there are a few specific dynamics I believe you are uniquely suited for. I want you to scene with the three of them tonight, as a liaison who represents Club Sin and will help them navigate their experiences. They all self-identify as Dominants, so beyond the additional necessities, I need a submissive who can balance the expectations of more than one Dom at once. No one submits as beautifully as you do, Poe. Everyone who’s ever observed you in the dungeon knows what a gift it is just to witness.”
Hope blossoms before pessimism has a chance to stifle it. What if playing in a group means enough eyes will be on me to ensure I’m never put at risk again? Having three Doms to protect me while we play could be exactly what I need to feel safe. Or it could go horribly wrong, and I could freeze up and safe word out before the door closes behind me.
I have a million questions and smartass comments all tangling around in my head right now. But I wait. Dutiful. Permission to speak hasn’t been granted, yet. Somehow, I already know I’m going to agree, though. Master Shane and the owners of the club have been patient and solicitous of me for a whole year. It’s time I either reclaim my inner fox, or let her go forever and leave the club to attempt a vanilla-type relationship. I don’t want to be alone forever, even if it means rejecting pieces of myself I’ve always considered sacrosanct.
CHAPTER2
FELIX BRIGGS
I’m the reason we’ve been unsuccessfully looking for a woman to share for years. It’s my specific requirement that knocks nearly every woman Archer or Garen finds out of the running. Then again, since I’m the reason we realized we wanted to share a woman between us in the first place, I’ll take the blame and the credit. When a woman Garen was in a casual relationship came on to me while he was on a phone call in the other room, I wasted no time informing him of the woman’s duplicity. While he’d been furious at her for trying to sneak around behind his back, he’d honestly been curious about whether I had any interest in fucking her, too.
I had not. Even then, I knew what I needed in a woman, and one so ballsy as to fuck around on the man she’s with isn’t it. Still, his interest in seeing me fuck a woman he was also fucking took hold. It hadn’t been but a few weeks later when the subject came up during a post conference dinner with all three of us there. At the time, our businesses were separate and distinct entities, but over the years, our friendship has deepened and led to the natural pooling of our companies to form a collective that ensures wealth for all of us.
The trouble is, Archer and Garen are Doms, and while I also get off on the sight of a freshly reddened ass, I need something more. I need to caretake for the woman in my life. To provide for her and know the submissive kneeling at my feet relies on me for everything, from the comfortable place she rests to the food she eats from my hand. A pet, in human form, who will happily curl up in my lap while I work at the computer until late at night, content to wait for her pleasure until I’m ready to dole it out.
“You’re positive the club understands we expect more than a submissive woman willing to allow all three of us to play with her? That I want to reserve the pet play room?” If I sound suspicious, it’s because I am.
“That’s what the email says. Check your inbox, man. Don’t know when I turned into your admin.” Archer leans halfway through the doorway into my office, being his typical asshole self.
They might like to act as if I’m the reason we haven’t found a woman yet, but the truth is, Arch is no easy ask, either. He’s surly and bossy. While I want a woman to pet and pamper, he wants one to put through the paces of total submission. Garen’s probably the easiest of us all to get along with, and even he has preferences that aren’t strictly vanilla. Though I’ve never seen him in action, I know his predilection for impact play. It’s hard to envision the laid back guy as a sadist in the bedroom, but he likes what he likes.
Club Sin is our latest attempt at figuring out whether our goal of finding a woman to share between the three of us, one who meets all our needs, is attainable. Nothing we’ve tried on our own has worked.