For the Night, page 7
Cam shifted where he stood, and he cleared his throat. “Yes, Sir. Master wanted to point out that you don’t have a single high-protocol Top on your planning committee.”
Lucian, I swear.
Next, Cam gestured vaguely at the cooler. “The drinks are a gift from Master so you can apply something cold to that burn. Please don’t shoot the messenger.”
Jack cracked up, and August and Reese chuckled; although, Reese’s chuckle was on the darker side.
I was busy trying to improve my eyesight so I could spy Lucian’s expression from down here. Fucking bastard.
Reese flipped open the lid on the cooler, grabbed a soda wet with condensation, and handed it back to Cam. “Here’s one for your obstinate Owner, then. He could’ve planned the event with us if he hadn’t acted like a fuckin’ child for twenty years by workin’ past his bedtime.”
I smirked, loving Reese a whole lot at the moment. “Might I add that all the high-protocol Tops want to compete in the event. Is Lucian suggesting we take on a cheater who’ll know what’s going to happen before they enter the challenge?”
Cam snickered under his breath and accepted the soda. “I’ll deliver your comebacks, Sir and Ma’am. Thank you for your time!” He was quick to leave the porch and hightail it out of here.
I shook my head in amusement.
“Not a single high-protocol Top…” Reese muttered to himself with his own headshake. “All right, let’s get some work done. Between the four of us, I think we can put Lucian in his place.”
It was a solid goal. And despite what Lucian claimed when he was a whiny prick, we had a great variety of experience right here. August had been a Daddy Dom for roughly twenty years, Jack was a master at humiliation, degradation, and mind games, I’d been a Domme and public kink speaker for over a decade, and Reese had lived and breathed BDSM since he and River had been in their early twenties.
“We have a good age range too,” August noted. “I’d like to think that matters as well. Our preferences change over time, same how we tackle events and challenges, not to mention overzealous community members.”
He made a good point.
“Agreed,” Reese replied. “It’ll be our experience and wisdom, paired with Jack’s and Pen’s younger energy.”
What the fresh fuck.
I stared at him. “Dude, you’re like two years older than me.”
“Two years wiser,” he corrected.
Yeah, I wasn’t taking the bait.
“Anyway…” Jack smirked. “I’d like to plan this event before I turn thirty-three.”
I made a whipping sound in Reese’s direction, to which he scowled.
But Jack was right. We needed to get this done. In order to host the Game next weekend, all the information had to go online by tomorrow.
“All right.” I opened a notebook and got ready to jot things down. “As fun as it would be to completely ignore requests from Greer and Lucian, they’ve had some good ideas since we decided the theme. The first one being—we’ll do an event with stations.”
Reese inclined his head and handed out drinks from the cooler. “Greer suggested a bake-off of some sort.”
I remembered that, and I glanced at August. “Can we trust the chef with that?”
“A fine idea, indeed. I’m in.” He nodded. “I take it the four of us will be judges?”
“I reckon three’s fine,” Reese said. “Y’all can judge, and I’ll run the commentary and whatever else might need attention at the same time.”
I wrote that down. “On that note, we have some volunteers already. Sloan, Lucas, and Santiago signed up to be monitors.”
“You can add Franklin to the list,” Jack supplied.
Excellent. We’d only need one or two more, depending on how many stations we ended up with. And participants. Judging by the talk online, it was going to be a popular event.
“Considering it’s TPE we’re dealing with, I wanna propose fewer stations that might require more time, rather than several that get brats buzzing,” I added. “That on its own will be a test for the energizer bunnies who can’t spell patience.”
“Should we cater to the brats and Littles at all?” Reese wondered. “Even though they might get excited by the challenge of it all, I can picture Kit and Noa subdued as fuck by kneeling, competing in grace, and actin’ like human furniture.”
“Certainly Camden too,” August chuckled. “I suppose it’s a question of whether we cater to everyone or just focus on one kink. Your previous Games didn’t include multiple kinks in the same way, did they? I read about your Hunt and the Cage event, for instance.”
That was true. All Games weren’t for everyone. Everyone was free to join, but we chose different themes. We’d focused heavily on sadomasochism, primal play, and brats so far.
“Fair enough,” Reese conceded. “I do have one idea I wanna run with, but I can announce it after the event.”
“Care to share?” I asked.
He smiled faintly. “A mascot challenge. Let the members compete to illustrate a mascot for us, and maybe it’ll put out the fire of our Mclean House versus House Mclean bullshit debate.”
I laughed. I loved the idea, but I wasn’t sure shifting that focus was going to work long-term.
“I bet the Littles will love that,” August said.
I nodded and made a note. “I’m adding it to your list,” I told Reese. “For the event itself, I think we should focus solely on TPE. As mentioned, we didn’t consider consensual slaves or non-masos for the boot camp or the takedown, and so on. This will be the slaves’ moment in the sun.”
We were in agreement. And we were thirsty in this damn heat. While August grabbed one of the other notebooks, I guzzled my iced tea, and Jack popped open a ginger ale.
“Since there are four of us, four stations would give us the opportunity to have a host at each one,” Jack mentioned. “It’ll make it easier for us to judge the other challenges too. I’m assuming there will be judging anyway.”
Definitely. I nodded and made more notes. “Off the top of my head…I say we judge on performance, grace, obedience, and…” I pursed my lips, thinking.
“How they please their Owner,” Reese said quietly. Then he sat forward a bit. “One station could be called Serve Your Owner or somethin’, and the subs will have to put together a tray with—fuck, I don’t know—a hot beverage, a snack, shit like that. In which case, they gotta show they know their Owner and their preferences.”
I liked that a lot. Plus, it would pose a great challenge for Tops and bottoms who attended as friends, new to each other, or outside any regular dynamic. We often had plenty of those. Ash and Nora, for example.
Jack’s eyes lit up with interest. “If we let that challenge end with the subs acting like a footstool or another type of human furniture, I’d like to be in charge of that station.”
Reese snapped his fingers. “That’s it. Yeah. Perfect. And obviously, I wanna run a station that includes pain.”
“Suffer For Your Owner?” August suggested.
Oh, this was great. The creativity ball was rolling now. I made a quick note that we had to discuss our budget later, and we needed to meet up again, at least twice before the Game.
We declared ourselves done for the day shortly before noon, when Jack had to leave. He and Franklin were taking their daughter to an early movie, and August and his two took the opportunity to go buy furniture for their condo in Alexandria. They’d been so busy with work, he said, they hadn’t had the time to move in yet.
Reese declared he wanted a nap, which sent Shay hurrying his way, and I heard something about River getting back soon. From where, I had no idea. I kinda wanted a nap too, but when I spotted Nora catching some sun by the pool, that notion flew out the window. The girl was topless, just chilling and chatting with Lane, and I didn’t need that image in my head when I went to bed. Last night was bad enough. My God, was it bad. I could still hear her in my memories, how she’d sounded when she’d whimpered, how she’d felt when she’d shaken and quivered…
Nope, I was going to assemble some fucking furniture until the party started in two hours.
Damn her and her perky tits.
When I reemerged a little before two o’clock, the property had a new atmosphere. More people had shown up, some had left, the pool was crowded, and River stepped out of their cabin, cranky as fuck because he wasn’t getting his hike.
“Reese signed up to be a DM, the dumbass,” he grumbled.
I adjusted my bra strap underneath my top as I headed for the deck. “You poor thing. Can’t believe you have a brother who’s so active in the community.”
He lifted his brows and took a drag from his smoke. “I know you’re mockin’ me, but I deserve sympathy for that shit.”
I laughed.
Before I headed inside, I tried to see if Nora was around, but I couldn’t spot her. It was both a blessing and a curse. I may not have gotten my nap, but I’d still indulged in too many daydreams while I’d wrestled my bedframe upstairs to my little loft. Then I’d been swept away in what-ifs as I’d gotten my kitchen nook ready. New mugs, new plates, new coffeemaker…
What if she’s great for me, and I let her slip through my fingers because I’m a jaded bitch?
What if I sign myself up for misery because I won’t even give her a chance?
Logically speaking, I knew I wasn’t thinking rationally. A few of my friends had pointed that out too. Avoiding commitment for the rest of my life…? Christ.
I sighed to myself and entered the nightclub area, that was thankfully well air-conditioned, where approximately thirty of our members had gathered. Several faces completely new to me. Some only visited once a month. Some not even that. Some were insanely active in our online community but had never set foot in this house.
The members in charge of this little party had prepared everything already. The stage was set up for those who wanted to try ceremonial poses, with Beau and Ivy helping out. Nathan had claimed a corner with a sawhorse and a wall that had hooks for restraints, and he had Gretchen assisting.
Down by the seating area, another three Tops and their assistants had prepared for members to try out clamps, needle play, and wax play. It explained Santiago’s interest in being here. He was an excellent wax player.
I bet he wanted to keep an eye on Nora too. I’d learned they were friends.
I found Reese, Dean, Colt, and a couple from the bondage community at the bar, busy attaching the DM patches. I’d helped Sierra’s Domme when they were new out here, before they’d found their home upstairs in the rope dojo. I barely saw them at events these days, and Nattie wasn’t here today. Just Sierra and a man I hadn’t met before.
“Hi, Mistress Penelope.” Sierra waved.
“Hey, sweetie. Where’s Nattie?” I accepted a patch from Colt and attached it to my top. Our regular gear followed. A folding knife, shears, and first aid, all neatly packed into a pouch that I attached with a clip at my hip.
“She’s at home, trying to get our last three kittens adopted,” she replied with a grin. It jogged a memory; I’d seen a post about their cat having kittens several weeks ago. “You don’t want a kitten, by any chance?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Afraid not. My life’s too much of a mess. I—” But Ash! Ash was just like me; we loved both cats and dogs. Unlike me, he had a home and had actually been talking about adopting a cat. “You know what, can you ask Nattie to set one aside? I have a friend’s birthday coming up. He’s amazing with animals.”
I was willing to break the cardinal rule of never giving a pet as a present, only because I knew Ash. He’d be thrilled.
Before Sierra could respond, someone took the stage and asked for everyone’s attention. That someone was Nathan, and it didn’t take a genius to see he was tired. Beyond the “I didn’t sleep well last night” kind of tired.
“Nice to see so many of you here,” he said into the microphone. “Before Beau takes over, I just wanna say that—given the turnout—please respect the lines, don’t interrupt an ongoing scene, and if you have any questions, ask one of the DMs, not the members who are hosting the stations, unless it’s your turn. Thank you.” He handed the mic over to Beau and stepped down.
Hmm. Nathan had never been what I’d call overly social, but he was still incredibly kind and always took his time to help out. Now, though, it felt like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
He must know Ash was back in the community, right? They still saw each other every week when they drove their kids from one house to the other.
They reminded me a lot of Colt and Lucas, in how one was very outgoing and boisterous, and the other was happy to be dragged along. However, having observed Nathan here and there, I got the feeling he wasn’t as lenient as Lucas could be with Colt. Lucas had patience for days. Nathan’s assertiveness was quiet but, nevertheless, always present.
As Beau presented the event and brought up the rules and whatnot, I had Colt on one side and Sierra on the other.
“Who the fuck wears leather pants in this heat?” Colt asked quietly.
I scrunched my nose and peered up at him. He just cocked a brow at me.
“Not me.” I grabbed the waistband and showed the stretchy stretch. “They’re leggings.” They were a fucking godsend. They looked like painted-on leather pants, but no, sir.
He furrowed his brow. “Fake pants,” he whispered. “How come they don’t make those for men? I’m sweatin’ my balls off.”
I patted his arm. “Maybe it’s menopause.”
He could also give up the jeans for shorts, but whatever. Besides, it wasn’t that hot in here. The AC was running on high.
“That it, buddy?” Reese chuckled, throwing an arm around Colt’s shoulders. “Do you get the hot flashes?”
I snickered and returned my attention to Sierra.
“Have you noticed anything different with Nathan lately?” I asked for only her to hear. The Nathan-Ash topic wasn’t new for us, so she knew what I meant.
She leaned in to respond just as Nora rushed by with Lane, with Ty moseying along after, and it took me a beat to refocus.
“…been depressed for a damn year, so no, I can’t say there’s been a recent change,” Sierra murmured. “He was dating someone last fall, but it ended within a month or two. Can’t really blame the sub either—Nathan tried too hard. Like, he went all in but couldn’t commit. He made plans but canceled a lot.”
As I’d figured. Those two men needed to get their shit together.
You’re one to talk.
Whatever.
Once the party started, the DMs scattered, and I watched Sierra make a beeline for Nathan’s station. Meanwhile, I saw Nora get in line by the stage, and I couldn’t help myself. I walked closer, all while telling myself I had a responsibility. I couldn’t stare at her all day. My job was to provide assistance, safety, and answer questions.
But this area needed those things too, right? Colt, Reese, and Dean had migrated to the other end of the club, so yeah.
“Ma’am! Mistress Penelope!” Little Ivy maneuvered through the crowd forming, and I smiled as I laid eyes on her growing belly. She didn’t have that long to go now.
“Look at you, sugar.” I gave her a hug and then inched back to cup her cheek. I loved seeing the happiness in her eyes. “Beautiful.”
“Don’t tell me I’m glowing,” she joked. “I’m so ready for this kicker to slide right out of me.”
I laughed and eased away. “Do you honestly think there will be much sliding involved?”
She let out a chuckled whine and stomped her foot.
“Ivy! C’mere, you brat! Your Owners told me you’re mine for the day!” That was Beau.
“Oops.” Ivy grinned sheepishly.
“Where are your Owners?” I had to ask.
“They’re putting together the nursery at home,” she replied, backing away. “We’ll talk later? I miss you!”
“I’ll be around.” I smiled and watched her disappear again.
Everyone was in love, having kids, and getting married…
Ugh, I needed Ash here, so we could bitch to each other again.
As if on cue, I heard Nora’s soft laughter over the cacophony of noise, and I spotted her in the line, chatting up someone I hadn’t seen before.
I cleared my throat and decided to move on. Beau and Ivy had their stage covered, the kinksters watching weren’t being too loud, and it was a station involving very few risks.
I lasted about fifteen minutes.
I helped a sub get over his nerves in order to try nipple clamps, I spoke to two Tops, and I witnessed the line Nora was in get shorter and shorter until she was next.
She beamed as she jumped up to talk to Beau, and Ivy assisted with the instructions for the first two poses.
Seeing Nora on her knees like that, perfect posture, so much grace… Why did I even pretend to have resolve? I couldn’t make my way over there fast enough.
“In the end, your Top decides how these poses will be modified, but this one is a common pose for presentation that some—or most—call the Nadu,” Beau explained. He spoke to her as much as he spoke to those observing. “Sit on your heels and spread your knees.”
I took in my surroundings, making sure I wasn’t needed anywhere else, before I allowed myself a few seconds to let the world disappear. Nora obeyed swiftly and got into position, her gaze fixed forward and her shoulders squared.
“Excellent,” Beau commented. “Then you turn your hands, palms up, and rest them on your thighs.”
Damn near flawless.
Nora wasn’t merely beautiful; she was fucking adorable in tiny cotton shorts and a snug top. She pulled off gracefulness with a side of a crooked smile and eyes glinting with joy. She loved this. She was happy.
When Beau eased the end of a cane up her throat, to lift her chin slightly, I envied a goddamn object.
That should be my fingers making sure her chin was held high.
“And close your eyes,” Beau murmured.
Right then and there, Nora’s gaze landed on me. I felt the connection like two wires with magnetic tips rushing together with a snick. And the sensation didn’t fade as she closed her eyes and released a long breath.
