Secrets Dispatched (7 page)

“Are you okay?” Ross took her chin in his hand and tilted her head so she looked him in the eyes.

Shane nodded. “Yeah, I just used all those words you hate.”

“Thank God. Nevertheless, we’ll still tell our local cops when we get the chance. No point in rushing to do it now, any traces will be well obliterated. I guess there’s no use asking if you saw the number plate or if it had anything written on the side?”

“Nope, not at all. Though…” Shane concentrated. “I can’t swear to it, but I think one of the headlights was out. I was more concerned with saving my arse. Not that that’s a lot of help, eh? Easily replaced.” She shrugged. “The headlight, not my arse. That is irreplaceable.”

“Sure is.” Ross patted her rear and pinched it. “Perfect.”

“Damn it though, I
am
sorry I’m no more use. Why did someone want to break in?”

“Hey, no worries to the rest, you did more than most people could, I reckon. The break in was sort of official. No don’t ask. I can’t tell you, it’s all police confidentiality and such like. I’ll ring Ailsa and tell her what you told me. She’ll be interested to hear it.”

“Ailsa?” The surge of white hot jealousy annoyed Shane. Just because he said the name with such affection didn’t mean anything other than…well, affection. Did it?

“A friend in the force, who is the partner of another friend.” The way he couched his words was as big a giveaway as if he’d said friends in the lifestyle. Shane didn’t comment. After all, she knew about privacy and discretion.

“However,” Ross said. “The white van we’re still worried about. There’s been stuff moved around the estate, cottages used for something or other and lots of digging.”

“Dead bodies? Buried treasure?”

“Ropes and barbed wire. Puzzling.”

Shane laughed. “Well the barbed wire is not to my taste at all, and I’m not keen on ropes, but each to their own. Why bury it though? Don’t you have lockers?”

Ross pinched her chin. “Trust you to say what I reckon some of the local police thought.”

“Only some? You have kinky police?”

“Well, why not. Kink doesn’t have an agenda of who is and who isn’t.”

This Ailsa maybe?

Shane would love to know who was and who wasn’t, but it wasn’t something you ever asked. She accepted she was just nosy. She needed to curtail that propensity. Look where it had gotten her with Pete.

“Okay, this is our control room.” Ross ushered her into a rectangular room, with a bank of angled windows on one side plus a row of security screens and telephones on another. “We can oversee everything from here. Even if someone chooses a private room, they sign up to security cameras from here. Security—and the knowledge you’re safe from being sued or arrested—is paramount.”

“One reason for scening here and not at home?” To Shane’s annoyance, her voice wavered.

Ross gave her a sharp look. “In some cases, yes. Especially in a new relationship. Although a lot of our members have been together for a long time, they still enjoy scening here. And socializing as well. It’s not all whips and wax.”

He switched on one of the screens. “See how we can look without being intrusive? It’s all safety first.” The screen lit up with a view of what looked like the lounge area.

“What if the Dom ignores his sub’s safe word?” Shane had to ask.

Ross gave her another of those looks that seemed to sear into her soul. “He’ll never Dom again anywhere we know of. Safe words are sacrosanct.”

“But how would you always know?” Shane persisted. “They’re down there and you’re up here. You can’t always see the signs, can you?” A horrid familiar sick feeling crept over her, and she swallowed the bile that threatened to appear. She’d thought she was past it. How wrong could you be?

“Come hell or high water, kitten, I’m going to get to the bottom of what puts that look into your eyes. Hold on.” He flicked another switch. The screen changed from the lounge with its plush seats, to show a room with a St, Andrew’s cross and a spanking bench, plus a bed a bit like a masseur’s chair and several cupboards. Hanging from the ceiling were hooks and D rings and a vertical metal bar. Shane did her best not to ogle or let her instant arousal show. The more she saw and learned, the more Poisonous Pete the Plonker retreated. Now, once she saw Jess, the past would hopefully be well dead and buried.

“Well?” Ross asked her. “You haven’t run away screaming yet.”

“No, not yet,” Shane agreed. “But…”

“Stay here and watch the monitor. I won’t be long.” He pushed a chair under her bum, dropped a swift kiss on the top of her head and left the room at a jog.

Unable to settle, Shane stood up and wandered around looking at the consoles and at a series of photos on the walls. Several depicted a couple, who were obviously well into a scene. She peered closely and stared at the expression on the woman’s face. It was serene, calm and she seemed totally at ease and happy with her position, rigged in an intricate harness of knots and ties, suspended several feet above the ground. Even her hair was tied. It was something Shane had often wondered about, but never experienced. After Pete, she hadn’t thought she’d ever want to. The Dom who stood beside the lady exuded confidence and total command, and he bent his head and, Shane surmised, asked the sub a question.

Something about the way he stood rang a bell. She moved her attention from the woman to the Dom. As she thought, it was Ross. The jealousy that filled her came as a surprise.

I want him to do that to me.
She thought about it as she made her way back to the original screen Ross had asked her to stop by and sat down again. The screen showed the door opening and closing, then Ross appeared in the room. He turned and looked up toward where the camera must be sited.

“Hello, kitten. I’m hoping you can hear me. If you can, press the switch in the console, marked ‘speak’ and say so.”

Shane looked along the row of switches, found the one she wanted and pressed it. “I can hear you.”

“So if I had a poor innocent little subbie strapped down on here”—he stroked the soft top of the spanking bench—“or rigged up and swinging.” He set one of the metal rings moving. “And ignored her shouting, or”—he lowered his voice—“whispering red or whatever, would it be ignored? Bearing in mind the control room is monitored all the time by two people, as well as a dungeon master in each room. We take safe, sane and consensual very seriously, kitten, as do all sensible clubs and Doms. Heard enough?”

“Yes, Sir, and thank you. I feel silly now.”

“Kitten.” His voice was harsh, and Shane flinched. Had she annoyed him so much?

“Never ever feel silly for being safety conscious. It’s not thinking ahead and paying attention to your safety that’s silly. Stay there. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He left the dungeon and sure enough, within a minute the control room door opened and Ross walked in.

“Ready for a wander now?”

It didn’t occur to her that she was about to do something she never ever thought she’d do again. Shane stood up, walked toward Ross and dropped to her knees. Very deliberately she put her hands behind her back and bent her head to look at the floor by his bare feet. She remembered from years before that he hated shoes and kicked them off at every opportunity.

“Yes, please, Sir.”

He tugged her hair so she looked up at him. “That, kitten, is a lovely sight. I hope I’ll see more of it, but for now, welcome to my world.”

Chapter Six

As he looked down at Shane, something indefinable filled Ross’s mind. It wasn’t just seeing a woman he wanted on her knees as a sub, but also the total trust in her expression that gladdened him. Even as a child, her solemn expression and need to know everything had fascinated him. For a brief second, the difference in their ages worried him. Was twelve years too much? In reality, why should it be? As long as he could get the image of baby snatching and dirty old men out of his mind… She was well over the age of consent now, and until he’d seen her again he hadn’t thought of her as anything except Troy and Jase’s younger, pesky, nosy sister.

Now though, everything had changed. The only connection with Jase and Troy was his knowledge that if he messed her up, they’d string him up by the balls. He might like Shibari and love rigging, but having it happen to him around those valuable nuts didn’t bear thinking about. It was all he could do not to cup his palm over that area of his body.

“Do you mean that, kitten? You’re happy to sub to me? Because if you do, we start now.” He was damned sure that she’d probably cry red, now or after she saw what he liked.

“Ross, please be a Dom to me.”

She’d remembered his promise. Once again she surprised him. Her eyes widened and she leaned into him, seemingly unheeding of the sting it must give her scalp.

“I’m happy, Sir, because I trust you to listen to me. Even though I’d promised myself nothing until I speak to Jess.”

There was definitely an undercurrent.
All tied in with her need to speak to Jess? No matter, I’ll be patient.
He hoped. Although he had infinite patience in a scene and drew out the best in every one he played with, outside that sphere, Ross knew he wasn’t renowned for his patience.

“I will never ignore you or give you a reason to doubt me, kitten. That’s a promise. So, up you get.” He tugged on her hair, and Shane stood up straight in front of him. She blinked, swallowed and looked down at the floor once more.

“Kitten, there’s only us here, no need to do that. Although when we scene in the club with others around, I’d expect it.”

She paled. “Red.”

“Red? Red what?” He would make her spell it out, even if it ended there and then.

“Nothing in public. Hard limit there. I am not showing my wobbly bits or my vulnerability to any old passerby with a hint of kink in them. If, and I’m stressing the if, we do anything beyond tonight, I’m for you to see and you only.”

Ross wondered if she truly thought that. Her skin was once more glowing and her ashen hue had disappeared. If she did, then there would need to be a lot of hard thinking done by both of them.

“If you’re for me to see, then strip.” He hadn’t known that he was going to say that until the words were spoken.

“Strip?” She squeaked the words. “As in, take this apology for a dress off? It’s see-through, so why take it off?”

“Why keep it on? If it’s see–through, then there’s no point in wearing it. It’s not cold in here. And we won’t be doing anything other than looking around, kitten. Here… Arms up.” He took hold of the hem of her dress and began to lift it over her body.

“We won’t?” Shane lifted her arms obediently and stood still until he removed the dress.

“No, we won’t.”

She began to move her arms over her boobs and pussy.

“Kitten.”

She stopped instantly and let them drop to her sides.

“If we were to play tonight,” Ross said as he urged her forward with a none too soft tap to her arse—damned if he didn’t ache to do more than a tap, “then I’d tie your arms behind you. Your body is beautiful, and once we get rid of your pussy hair, it’ll be even more so.” He didn’t give her a chance to argue or protest as he pushed her out of the control room and along the corridor to the nearest stairs.

“Of course we could take the lift, but I’d rather see you sway as you go down the stairs.”

She sniggered. “Sway is an understatement. You do know my boobs will ache without any upholstery?”

“You should have chosen the corset then. Your choice, your suffering. Accept it or red.”

Shane descended five or six stairs and turned round to look at him. “You’re a sadist.”

“Of course, and that’s sadist, Sir, to you. Go through the door at the bottom and turn left. You’ll come to the lounge.”

“Yes, sadist, Sir.”

Damned if he didn’t want to laugh.
Scared stiff, aroused—her pert nipples and the damp hair on her pussy showed that—she still gave him backchat. Good for her. His Shane was one spunky sub.

My Shane?
He thought about it. He damned well hoped so. Ross waited with scarcely concealed impatience as Shane nodded, turned around and continued down the stairs. Next time, he vowed, he’d have her walk up the stairs in front of him, then back down again, just so he got a perfect view of her in all her naked glory. Even thinking about it made his cock twitch.

Shane disappeared from view and Ross took the remaining stairs two at a time and caught up with her as she entered the lounge and did a slow circle to take everything in. He tried to see it through her eyes. Gray leather settees—easy to wipe down and sanitize—rings on the floor next to some of them, the sort you’d tie a dog to, lots of large soft cushions and plenty of low tables. Apart from the hooks, it was just what you’d see in any lounge.

“Normal,” Shane said, surprise in her voice. “It could be anywhere. Posh hotel, squash club, anywhere.”

“What did you expect? This is as vanilla as anywhere outside. Nothing happens in here, except chatting, eating and if you’re not playing, a drink. Except the subs may be half naked, and on a leash. Each to their own. Leashes are not my thing.”

Shane wandered from the bar to the long, squashy settees, looked at the ring hooks in the floor and shuddered. “Thank goodness for some small mercies then. Now, I guess this is the time to ask you that all important question. Sir, what
is
your thing?”

He’d wondered when she was going to broach that subject.

Chapter Seven

The long heard and never understood phrase, ‘a pregnant silence’ suddenly became clear to Shane. Ross studied her as if he’d never seen her before and rolled his shoulders as if to de-knot the muscles. Eventually he beckoned to her.

“Follow me.” He turned on his bare heel without waiting to see if she obeyed him or not.

Shane walked after him. Her bare feet slapped on the floor, just as Ross’ had and she was glad the surface looked spotless. Unfortunately she could see her reflection in the polished surface and watch her boobs and arse jiggle as she walked. Sleek and svelte she wasn’t. However, as it didn’t seem to bother Ross—just the opposite—why should she worry? She was what she was, and diet didn’t enter her vocabulary. She ate sensibly and that was it.