Not that I had time to even say hello to anyone I knew. Case and I blew right past a couple of submissives we’d befriended during recent trips. While I would’ve been the first to offer apologies for our rudeness, fifteen minutes didn’t allow me to so much as take a piss, much less chat it up with anyone. So I followed Case up to the men’s changing room and went right for our locker.
I could tell something was bothering Case even as we ripped our T-shirts off, tossing them, along with our shoes and socks into our locker. The deep discussion we’d had in the car probably hadn’t been the best idea for pre-kink club conversation. Certainly not before we were to scene with Zeke.
Before Case could dart back out, I grabbed his arm and forced him to look at me.
“Are we cool?”
His eyes softened. “Always.”
I nodded as relief swelled inside me. I wanted to talk it out, but unfortunately, we didn’t have time to dwell on it.
We made it down to the dungeon at 9:14 p.m. Twenty seconds later, we had located Zeke, and before my watch hit 9:15, we were kneeling in the corner nearest him. As though his brain was set to an internal alarm, Zeke’s eyes immediately shifted to the corner. I dropped my gaze, my heart beating faster than normal.
I had absolutely no idea what Zeke had in store for us tonight, and despite my reservations—the fear that this potentially had the power to come between me and Case—I was excited. Trembling, in fact.
I should’ve known Zeke didn’t have any intention of going easy on us. Rather than come over and acknowledge our presence, he disappeared completely. Figuring some other Dom had been tasked with keeping an eye on us, I didn’t move, even as the unforgiving concrete floors bit into my knees.
Minutes passed. A lot of them. Due to the way I’d positioned my hands, I could see my watch. Thirty-two minutes had slipped by while the dungeon and its occupants existed around us. The usual sounds of moans, cries, and impact tools hitting flesh echoed in the large space, but not once did I look up.
When we hit the hour mark, I started to worry Zeke had said to hell with us. I wouldn’t put it past him to be off playing with someone else, tormenting them the way I wanted him to torment me. But I wouldn’t move, because if I did, Zeke would never return. We would be passing up the opportunity of a lifetime.
The only thing that would get me to move was the signal that the club was closing or the fire alarm.
Otherwise, I was in it for the long haul, bruised knees be damned.
*
Zeke finally reappeared at 10:47 p.m. A solid hour and a half after my knees first hit the floor. I knew because his big booted feet appeared in my line of sight. At least I hadn’t fallen asleep, although it had been touch-and-go there for a while.
His behavior didn’t surprise me in the least. I’d played with a couple of Doms who were sticklers for patience, but never had I met anyone who liked to dish it out like Zeke Lautner. The man knew that when he was in this space, he was the sun. Everyone else revolved around him.
The only acknowledgment he offered was a tap to the head. No words came out of his mouth, but it was obvious he wanted us to stand. I got to my feet, remaining beside Case. My heart was racing as though I’d been running a marathon, not chilling in a dark corner for the past ninety-two minutes.
Zeke motioned for us to follow him.
We didn’t go far. Only a couple dozen feet to the opposite side of the long, narrow play space. There were no spanking benches or St. Andrew’s crosses in this corner. Only large wooden beams across the ceilings, chains dangling from them, and some hooks in the floor.
My brain blazed through dozens of scenes I’d witnessed as I tried to figure out what he had in store for us.
“Both of you naked,” Zeke said dismissively.
Naked we got.
Standing in a room full of people with my dick hanging out wasn’t my favorite thing in the world, but I’d gotten used to it. Funny, since I’d never even stepped inside a BDSM club before I met Case. Hell, I hadn’t even fantasized about it. Before Case, I’d been what the kink community referred to as vanilla. Maybe a little roughing up during sex, hair pulling, biting, that sort of thing. Definitely not being chained to a beam and spread wide for the entire room to see.
Without a word, Zeke came over and took my wrist in his giant hand. He removed my watch, then led me farther into the corner, positioning me the way he wanted before he proceeded to chain me in place. Hands above my head, arms spread wide, wrists wrapped with leather cuffs, my dick on full display to the growing audience and I wasn’t going anywhere. He pressed his foot to the inside of my leg, brushing against my ankle. I shifted my stance to accommodate. He squatted down and cuffed my ankles, hooking the restraints to the eye-hooks in the floor.
