He almost didn’t get in the door. The bouncer was the same asshole who had given him a fucking hassle during that unfortunate incident a while back. It wasn’t his fault that the slut had mistaken her pain level. She laid there screaming because she was fucked up, and he was the one thrown out?
His money was as green as the next guys.
He told the asshole that he was meeting someone, and the guy, after bitching at him about ‘limits’ and ‘consent’ –as if he wasn’t well aware of that shit already–had let him in. And there she was sitting at the bar, just as he’d instructed her. Oh, he’d find something wrong to punish her over, he always did. No slut was perfect, and he did so like finding the error of their ways and slapping the learning of his lessons into their flesh. She looked nervous, another thing he enjoyed. Nerves and fear made him hard as a steel rod. He decided to wait and observe for a few minutes, let her get worked up to panic mode by being his being ‘late’ to arrive. Moving off to the edge of the room where the light was dim, he sat at a small table, and watched, rubbing his hand over the growing bulge beneath his zipper.
She didn’t want to be here.
Her leg jiggled, and her fingers tightened as she rubbed at the smooth wood of the bar. Though she had wrestled through one solution after another, nothing she thought of would totally get rid of the threat. He’d been very clear when they had spoken earlier today, that they would ‘get together’ as he put it, and tonight. She had held her ground, declined to meet in a quiet private spot as he’d originally demanded. Though he’d gotten angry, shouting at her through the phone, on this she would not budge.
There was nothing that he could do to her that would be worse than winding up dead, she imagined. Not the threats of her job finding out, not the threat of the beating he’d give her “defiant ass”. No, the threat of any of the things he said he’d do if she didn’t meet him privately was worthless in the face of her own gut fear that this guy was a nutjob. There was no way she was going to wind up in a body bag because she was afraid of public exposure. Besides, she could move again, though she would rather not. In the end it was he that suggested M/F. Likely so that he could rub it in everyone’s face that he was back despite Sir Michael throwing him out of the club a few nights ago, and showing off that he ‘had’ the new slut he’d been hunting a few days ago, despite Sir Michael’s warning otherwise.
She hoped like hell that He would not be here tonight.
“What’s the matter honey?”
She looked up, startled. The bartender was looking at her. His ebony face revealed little except for concern.
“You look worried, honey. Mr. Michael isn’t here yet this evening. You two have a tiff?”
She shook her head and to her shock, she started crying soundlessly, and without warning. Tears welled in her eyes, streamed down her cheeks.
“I…there’s…I…”she stuttered to a stop, staring hopelessly at him, before lowering her eyes to her clenched fingers.
“Sweet little girl, something is going down. No one cries at Dr. T’s bar. That’s bad for business! You cry out there” he waved towards the play room area “but out here is for happy times.”
He leaned forward, palms on the bar, one on each side of her joined fingers. Looked at her deeply. She hadn’t raised her eyes, but she could feel him watching her.
“Something’s troubling you.”
“Being pestered by someone?”
“Yes. No. Ye…I…it’s…complicated.”
“Honey, if it isn’t complicated, it isn’t any fun at all!” He let loose a deep, rich chuckle.
Her eyes flew up to meet his.
“This is a joke to you? My life is something for you to laugh about??:” Her blue eyes fired up, shooting sparks.
“There she is. That spunky gal who told three tops off the other day! That’s the girl I was lookin’ for. And here she is, eyes on fire at Dr. T. when they should be burning the pants of whoever is messin’ with her.”
She blinked, tilted her head, pursed her lips.
“You’re right. I should. But I’ve worked myself up so I don’t know how to get out of this…”
“And that is when we call in the calvary. How ’bout you go to the ladies room. The one down that hallway there. Drinking always makes one need to go pee you know. I’ll keep an eye out here, make sure no one takes your drink on you. Take another sip now. No one but you and I know it’s seltzer water, do we?”
Puzzled, she took another sip of the fizzly water and slid off the stool. Dr. T pointed as if he were directing her to the bathrooms, though she did remember where they were. She slipped down the corridor and through the double doors that led to another hallway where the bathrooms were. Just before she got to the ladies room, a panel door slid open.
“In here. Now.”
Madame Fornea, dressed in jeans and a denim shirt, stuck out her hand and all but pulled Addison through the doorway. For a moment she almost laughed out loud, feeling a bit like Alice through the rabbit hole. From one surreal adventure into the next, she mused, following obediently along behind the diminutive woman. This secret hallway was constructed between the club walls, she thought, as they passed several panels–locked from this side–before coming to a dead end. A twist and slide of a pair of wrought iron bolts and the door swung open into a office.
“Expected to wind up in a torture chamber?” Madame Fornea chuckled. “Nothing fancy but my office..with my emergency entrance that you’ll forget about later.”
“Er…yes’m,” Addison replied, still caught between shock and the shuddering fear of what would happen when Dom Asshole showed up and she wasn’t there.
“Dr. T alerted me to a problem with a certain dominant. The man who harassed you before. I’m sorry about that.”
“How on earth would you know that?? I hadn’t…I just sat there and cried…and…”
“He was there, sweetie. You couldn’t see him, but the bouncer informed me that he was there to meet a pre-arranged date, and I allowed him entry but everyone was watching him. He was sitting in the back corner watching you at the bar. Trying to make you twitchy, I’d suppose. This is none of my business, who you play with. But sweet girl, you really should avoid him. He’s dangerous.”
“I…I want to. To avoid him. But …he came to my job yesterday. It was unexpected, he was meeting with my boss, but he saw me and then came to my office after his meeting, and threatened….”
“…to expose you. That bastard. The rules in the D/s community are pretty loose, but one cardinal one is that we each respect each other in the outside world. That we might carry our relationships into the vanilla world, but with care enough to not expose someone to harm. Like losing a job, or a family. Outing someone is truly the most heinous of offenses.”
“I need to figure out a way to not be with him. And keep my job. And my self-respect. And he…terrifies me. Because I don’t see how I can walk away without him contacting my job and telling them. And then what will I do for a job? I need to pay my rent and my phone bill and heat…”
“Of course you do. Don’t we all?” Madame F patted her hand. “Let’s put our heads together and see what we can come up with, hmmm?”