The Red Door (The Door Series Book 1) (20 page)

“Come here and straddle my lap.”

I walked over and did as I was told, but when I went to raise up to put him in, he stopped me.

“Soon, Aurora. I wanted to talk to you a little bit first. Tell you how humble I am that you forgive me.” He pushed my hair off my shoulders, resting his hands on my neck.

“You didn’t know what was going on.”

“No, I didn’t, and I didn’t realize what Alex was doing last week, until it was too late, and it pissed me off. I thought he was publicly resigning as her sub. I didn’t know the parameters of their relationship, if you could call it that. Some Doms or Dommes would want a public announcement. Since she enjoys whipping, if he did do it publicly she could announce that she was looking for someone else. By the end of it, I thought he must have told you since there was no way he would have left you to go submit to her.”

“Will they need to do that? A public announcement?” I asked a little more than curious. I kind of wanted to watch him get whipped. Not for punishment, but to give him whatever he needed afterwards.

“I don’t know. It would help with the investigation if she had someone volunteer, especially a young untried or unique girl. Which is exactly what she was doing until Alex showed. He needed an in, and she was it. Of course I didn’t know that at the time. I thought it was a step in the direction for him to play with men but when he never went forward to play with men I always wondered.”

“To play with men? As in he is bisexual?”

“Yes.”

“There is no way he is into guys.” Mitch sat there and stared at me. What he didn’t do was reply to my statement. I thought back to what happened in the office with him, Jackson, and me. I didn’t think a straight guy would do that, but I still could not see Alex as bisexual. He seemed too dominant to submit to a man, and I could not see him respecting a weak one. I looked over Mitch’s body, wondering.

“And if he is, are you not worried with the three of us in a relationship that he might want more from you?”

“And if he did? Are you willing to share me with him, my Ari?” I saw his eyes flare up at the idea. I thought about it, the way I felt when I licked the cum off of Alex’s fingers. I thought of what it would look like to see these two men, who were so large and strong, fight each other for the dominant position. And it would be a fight. I couldn’t see the other give up willingly.

“From the look on your face, I take it you wouldn’t mind sharing too much.”

“It’s kind of hot when I think about it. Would you let me watch?”

I watched Mitch as he laughed. “I’ll be honest. I never thought about men growing up. I never even considered it an option. I was a guy, and I was supposed to date a girl. When I first became a Dom, it was not in this club. I knew my dad ran this type of club, even came a few times with him, but felt uncomfortable each time. I moved to Houston for college and found a local club. The training I went through was much different, and I was taught ‘To be a proper Dom you had to try everything you were willing to dish out. You couldn’t put the sub in the proper subspace if you didn’t know how it felt to be put there under the same or close circumstances.’ I was given the club membership papers and this was on the front page. When you signed it, you agreed to be taught in this manner. On the last page it asked what all I was willing to learn and had a huge list with boxes beside each. I checked off most of the boxes. I was so damn curious. My Master’s name was Calvin. You will meet him soon. He’s a big guy, who has a way with words, and could and does get inside one’s head.”

“I’ll meet him?” I could hear the admiration in his voice when he spoke of this man and didn’t know if I wanted to meet someone whom he held so much respect. What if I didn’t measure up?

“Yes, we remain friends to this day. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother. I have asked that he come in and help with the reshaping of the clubs. He can do a better job than anyone I know.”

“Tell me about the clubs,” I asked instead of the question I wanted to know. How much training had he received?

“Now?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Well, because I have you naked on my lap for one.”

“You would have me naked on your lap all the time if you could.”

“True.”

“To thoroughly explain I have to go back to the beginning. Back in the nineteen thirties The Red Door was a boarding house. It stayed that for years and expanded. When the war started, the women who were left to take care of their families moved in. It was easier with several people around to leave the younger kids with the older ones while the adults did all the work. You have to remember, back then it could be anything from hauling water to baking bread to chopping wood. The more experienced women taught the others how to do things the correct way and so on. It worked all the way down to even the smallest kids. As the men returned from war, they liked seeing the women work for them.

“Several men had enjoyed prostitutes while overseas and they learned exactly how erotic sex could be. A few of the veterans came together with my grandfather and opened a club with the same name as the boarding house.

“Women came to learn how to please their husband in the bedroom and in public. To make sure they were casting the best image not only for themselves, but for their Master. Back when this club opened, it was not only a woman’s job to take care of the house, children, and the duties there, but also be anything and everything that her husband needed. It varied in different relationships; sometimes a husband needed his wife to be a good host, and sometimes the wife was needed to please his bosses so he could get that raise to provide more for his family. And whatever was needed, in or out of the club, was given because the wife was completely submissive.

“It was a surprise to the men how many of them were submissive. When they were ready, they agreed to be trained at the club. Many of the girls started coming to the front of the club at twelve and thirteen years old to help serve lunch and drinks. The front was a gathering place for men to talk and eat. It gave the daughters a chance to mingle and learn how to respect the men. By the time they were fifteen, they knew how to please a man in public. Just like the boys were taught to appreciate everything the girls did for them, to treasure them.

“At seventeen, they were given a choice to work in the back. This could be clean-up or serving drinks to really who knows, but it allowed the girls to watch the older women please their men. Once they were engaged, they were taught how to give blowjobs and hand jobs. Most of the women already in a relationship would offer advice and teach the younger ones how to do this as well as other things. Most were getting married by eighteen and after the marriage and honeymoon their training would continue to advance on to the real sexual training. Although it did have some BDSM, it was still mostly private. If there were spankings and such, it was done in complete private.”

“It sounds like the fathers trained their daughters to become a sex slave to the men he was friends with,” I said wrinkling my nose.

“No. Maybe, I’m not explaining it correctly. It was all done by choice. The boarding house was separate from the club. At twelve and thirteen the girls were allowed to volunteer. If anything, the fathers were overprotective of their daughters, only allowing them in the front of the club while they were there. The front was a place to meet men your father already approved of. They did date outside of the club; it wasn’t all big brother, Ari. And it was the woman’s choice to date anyone from the club, but the club itself was kept small and quiet.”

“How did they keep it from becoming incestuous?”

“It was a different time then. A lot of wars had gone on and were still going on. My grandfather had some friends through the military who had the same views and had learned from the same prostitutes. When they had a chance, they would come out and stay for a while. There were several small rooms at the club and the boarding house. They talked to their friends and word spread. It was never a quick trip when they came to stay—they would stay for about a year. They had to have training to learn how to be the man of the house and to appreciate their wife. Some even had to learn how to please a woman. When one would move out another would move in. There was a waiting list for rooms then and several of the families actually let some of the men stay in a spare room in their homes.”

“Well, that explains the men, but what about the women? With so many men how were there enough women?”

“War again. Men died and women could not support themselves or their children. Work was hard and food was rationed. The men who lost comrades told the widowed wives that if they needed help they should notify my grandfather. Some of his trusted friends who lived close to him already had families, and they would take in the families of the fallen comrades. The men would go to war or work when they were old enough and the women and girls started in the club or helping out at the boarding house. The wives of the deceased would help around the house where they stayed, as well as the club, for a year. When the year was up she would need to start looking for a new husband, but being at the club and helping at different houses, even if it was cleaning, most found a new husband before the year was up.”

“It sounds like it was a great group of friends and something to be involved in. Especially the way they helped the women get back on their feet since there weren’t many other options opened to them at that time. Why did it change?”

“Time mostly. These were not your common men. Several went on to become great businessmen and leaders in our country. Keeping good friends and support when someone was at the top, they helped more move into positions of power. A powerful man with powerful friends is a force to be reckoned with. The more time went by, the more power hungry people became. Slowly friendships died because they used each other as a stepping ladder instead of supporting the other. In the late sixties and early seventies, the Women’s Right Movement and Free Love Movement were in full force. Women didn’t want to join a club that was viewed as sexist. The men also no longer wanted to get married when they could have as many girls as they wanted without a commitment. Dad stepped in and changed the club. He had it remodeled, and when it opened, you had to apply for membership. It was a male-only membership with subs being invited by members. Most of the rules he started with are still in place now with a few exceptions, the most obvious being that both men and women can obtain membership. This one reopened in nineteen seventy-two. He opened another one in two thousand and nine, when I took this one over. And I opened one in a different location in two thousand thirteen.”

“Are they run the same way?”

“Yes and no. More changes have taken place as society changes. Things that were taboo are now not so much. The same rules apply, but one is geared more toward sadomasochism, for people who enjoy pain or humiliation. It’s called The Black Door. It’s the one that opened in two thousand and nine. The club I opened last year is called The Bronze Door.”

“The Bronze Door? They’re all a different color of door? What’s the meaning behind the names?”

“With The Red Door, my grandfather named the club the same as the boarding house. The boarding house was called The Red Door because when frontier travelers saw a red door it meant they were welcome there. Of course that was long before my grandfather’s time, but he liked the idea. My dad kept the name when he reopened the club. Now, The Red Door’s name could be seen to mean a state of being in heat and also a luster, glow, or bright coloring. Kind of like your ass, when spanked, it turns red and how you feel when it does. Red is the color of passion. By painting the front door red it is saying that it is a vibrant place, full of life, energy, and excitement. In Biblical times, blood on doors was there to protect their first born from the angel of death. Passing through red doors would mean that you were on holy ground. There is a saying: “The kingdom of joy is protected from all evil by a red door.” In different religions it can mean it’s sacred or that the sacrifice has been paid. During times of the Underground Railroad, slaves knew they could find safety in the houses with red doors, but the meaning for us is a combo of all the above. We want it to be a safe place to come, leave all the shit at the door, and enter with a positive open attitude. That to us is sacred.”

“And the fact that red is seen as a universal sexy color helps, too.” I smirked at him.

“True.”

“And The Black Door?”

“I’ll tell you, but you will start paying some attention to my cock in your hands. And not to just keep it warm.”

“Is it getting a little jealous?” I laughed as I started moving my right hand up and down.

“Damn, that feels good.” He leaned his head back and became quiet.

“The Black Door?” I squeezed a little harder and watched as he moaned and pivoted his hips.

“Yes, The Black Door. My dad named it deciding to play off of the color door theme. He chose black because it’s all consuming. The Black Door is much like that but sudden and intense. You’ll not leave unmarked. It’ll scar you, somehow, someway. A black front door means strength and power. It means sophistication and authority. It’s a powerhouse for people of prominence. At least that’s how he wanted it to appear and be. It’s the end of the road in BDSM, the deepest you can go. The club is not one I’m fond of or near as popular. It’s a member only, and one can only become a member by a Master vote. That’s where all the Masters come together to decide. It’s more expensive, too. The club is so private that only the members know about it. It’s a club for sadists, and they participate in things the members in this club would deem too taboo.”