Fool's Desire Read online

  Not that Joel had anyone special to spend his time with. He spent a lot of time at the club, but that didn't count as work. The club had always been his pleasure, even on nights like tonight, when he was on duty. More so since he and his friends had decided to buy it together. It was with a sense of pride that he studied his domain, checked on the patrons, ensured everyone played and scened responsibly, continued to uphold the fine reputation of his college stomping ground and mentored the newest batch of 'baby Doms' to behave conscientiously. No, he wasn't dissatisfied with his work or with the club.

  He was dissatisfied with his relationships…or rather what was lacking from them. He was dissatisfied with short term hook-ups at the club, but he was equally dissatisfied with the type of woman his father had taken to foisting upon him over the past couple of years. Vanilla women that his father considered to be perfect 'wife' material but who left Joel feeling cold both inside and out. He'd come to know himself well enough in his thirty-four years to understand that unless there was some kind of fundamental change in his viewpoint, he would never be content to settle down with someone who didn't at least share the same sexual proclivities as he did. Trouble was none of the submissives he connected with ever came close to fulfilling his ideals and he never felt strongly enough about any of them to want to make compromises. Maybe, if he ever met the right woman, that would change, but for now, he was just dissatisfied. So much so that he preferred to take extra DM shifts when he was at the club rather than try to fend off well-meaning friends trying to pair him up with unsuitable women or handling the frustration of scening with yet another disappointing sub. He had decided recently that it was better not to go there than to have to keep facing constant disillusionment or to risk upsetting the people around him.

  Joel took one of the four ornate spiral staircases up to check on the ten individual theme rooms first. They could be booked by the hour and were open to viewing, fronted by floor to ceiling glass walls. Depending on the theme, the rooms had thick drapes that could be pulled across or a tint switch that would turn the window opaque for those who wanted more privacy. Two other rooms were strictly private with no viewing windows, for those patrons who weren't into exhibitionism, and they were monitored from the club's control room via audio and video links. No one here was above being supervised, however much discretion they sought.

  Reaching the top of the stairs, Joel made his way to the closest room. They were arranged around the perimeter of the second level with a wide walkway, come viewing platform, which also overlooked the staging areas in the arena below and boasted staircases at each corner for ease of access.

  According to the schedule, all the rooms were in use. Room one was the French boudoir with its sumptuous draperies, Louis XIV furnishings and Baroque style. Glancing through the viewing window, Joel checked the scene inside where two Doms had a blindfolded sub spread eagle on the luxurious four poster bed while one drew patterns on her body with a feather and the other had his mouth on her pussy. The restraints were correctly fastened, didn't appear to be rubbing and the woman moaned and writhed in ecstasy under the ministrations of her two Doms. No problems there. Moving on to the second room, he found a couple role playing as a doctor and his nurse with their patient strapped onto the medical couch, her ankles secured in stirrups while the pair pierced hypodermic syringes through strategic areas of her body. Joel couldn't help the slight shudder that shook him. He couldn't see the appeal in needle play. He never judged, it was just a bit too extreme for his tastes, no matter how often Master Doug tried to convince him that it was similar to acupuncture. A careful appraisal of the sub assured Joel that she was clearly relishing the procedure and he moved on to the next room as the Dom in question, dressed only in an unbuttoned white lab coat with a stethoscope hanging around his neck, reached into a medical cabinet for a speculum.

  In room three, two subs dressed as school girls were both bent side by side over a desk while a Dom caned them simultaneously. One of the women repeatedly stuck out her ass screaming, "More, Sir, more!" Joel scowled and shook his head. That Dom needed to keep his sub reined in and stop her from trying to control the scene.

  Bypassing the next staircase, Joel glanced quickly down into the arena to make sure nothing was amiss on the exhibition stages as he turned the corner to check on the next three rooms.

  In the boardroom, he found two suited men hard at it, one kneeling on a chair with his elbows on the table while the other stood behind him, pounding into his ass.

  Room five housed the sultan's throne room where, currently, three girls were performing their own take of the dance of the seven veils for each other. There was no 'sultan' in sight but a lot of interested voyeurs as the girls rubbed up against each other, touching, stroking and kissing. Joel smiled; girl on girl action always drew the crowds, and he moved on then to the suspension room next door with its ceiling full of cranks and pulleys where it looked like a scene had just finished, since the cleaning crew had moved in, and he made a mental note to check on the new occupants in thirty minutes' time.

  Turning the next corner to the 'mini dungeon', he found his cousin, Jake, with a sub cuffed to the cast iron rings embedded in the faux stone wall. His favoured signal whip had been put aside and the sub sported some light welts over her buttocks and thighs. His cock was buried between the woman's legs and he had a firm grip on her hips as he pulled her back into his body. With a critical eye, Joel noted that the weals that adorned her were all superficial. Jake was nothing if not an expert when it came to the whip.

  "Harder, please, harder!" she begged. "I need to come so bad!"

  Joel rolled his eyes. Yet another sub, topping from the bottom.

  Jake stilled and released her hips, grabbing a handful of his sub's hair and pulling her head back to look at him while he braced his other arm against the wall.

  "Who's in charge here, sweetheart?" he demanded in a rough voice.

  "You are, Sir," the girl whimpered.

  "That's right." Jake pushed his torso up against hers, effectively pinning her to the wall and blocking her attempts to buck against him and get herself off.

  Sensing movement at the window, Jake glanced over momentarily and grinned at Joel as he caught his raised eyebrow.

  Turning one hundred percent of his attention back to the sub, he growled in her ear, "That means you don't get to come until I say so, understand?"

  "Yes," she grumbled. Jake moved like lightening and laid a sharp slap to her outer thigh, making her yelp, more in surprise than pain.

  "What was that?" he challenged.

  "Yes, Sir!" the sub corrected with a marked improvement in her attitude.

  Happy that she was behaving, Jake stepped back and pulled her towards him at the same time as he thrust his hips forward, eliciting a groan of pleasure from her.

  Next door was the jail cell with its formidable row of bars set twelve inches inside the glass wall. The couple who were playing had only just arrived and their scene hadn't started, so Joel made another note to check them on his next rotation.

  The last room on this side was the wet room, outfitted with a huge shower amongst other things. On her knees beneath the spray, a sub knelt while her Dom held her by the hair as he fucked her mouth. Ensuring that she wasn't being choked by either the water or the cock, Joel headed around the final corner to check on his last theme room, knowing that the other two private rooms on this wing would be safe in the hands of the control room personnel. In fact, the entire club was wired up to the control room, from the car park to the dungeon, which provided an additional set of eyes and ears to all areas, but the Dungeon Monitors were the men—or women—on the ground. The ones to take action and intervene where necessary.

  Room ten had a single curved brick wall meant to imitate a turret room and housed an impressive collection of violet wands and orbs as well as a selection of candles for wax play. Joel knew even before his radio crackled with a warning that there was trouble in it.

  He dragged his
radio from his belt and checked in with the control room as he ran around the corner. "I've got this," was all he said, knowing that they would already be initiating emergency protocol and sending both a sub and another Dom for assistance.

  Joel burst through the door, not waiting to see who or what was going on inside.

  "Cease and desist!" Joel yelled the scene termination phrase that all members and their guests were instructed on, along with the use of safe words, before they were allowed to start any kind of play within the club since in the world of BDSM 'stop' didn't always mean stop and 'no' didn't always mean no. In the heat of passion, both were regularly uttered without their true meaning being intended. Either word could even be incorporated in the roleplay for whatever kind of dynamic that was being staged, and acting on them could cause unnecessary panic and interruption to a scene. Consequently, the club used a clear series of words that couldn't be misconstrued, since they weren't words that would ever be used in the same context, except where there was a problem.

  The Dom in the room spun around, wrenching the arm of the sub he had hold of and causing her to yelp.

  Joel stilled and made a quick evaluation of the situation. He recognised the man as Harry, one of their fairly regular 'baby Doms'. They'd had a couple of problems with him and his ego in the past, nothing major, but enough for them to keep a careful eye on him.

  The girl was a guest, but Joel knew she'd been to the club several times before, so she wasn't a complete newbie, but she was clearly terrified.

  "Let go of her, Harry," Joel commanded.

  Harry responded by grasping her arm harder and pulling her behind him. "She's my regular sub!" he whined as if that somehow excluded him from the directive.

  "And this is my club, and you know the rules." Joel was conscious of others entering the room behind him and knew his backup had arrived.

  "But she's being ridiculous!" Harry fumed, waving a violet wand in front of him like a weapon, and Joel leaned back slightly, the damn thing was still active. "I've already told her it won't hurt!"

  "She's scared, Harry." Another voice chimed in from behind, and Joel recognised it as that of his friend and co-owner, Logan Thornton.

  "But it's not going to hurt!" Harry as good as stamped his foot, and Joel had to stifle the urge to roll his eyes. He still had a bruising grip on the girl's arm, and she was cowering and whimpering behind him, clearly overwhelmed by events.

  Joel took another step forward; he had to take control of this situation and fast, and his first priority was to get the girl away from Harry. Grabbing a soft 'subbie' blanket used for aftercare from the back of a chair, Joel ignored the young Dom's posturing and proceeded to wrap it around the trembling sub.

  "What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked in a low, comforting voice as he glanced to his side and saw Trinity, one of the resident club submissives, and beckoned her closer with a tilt of his head.

  "S-Sophie," she stammered in a barely audible whisper.

  "Well, she's not going to enjoy any kind of play right now, Harry…"

  Behind him, Joel heard Logan continue to reason with the young man, "The needs of the sub come first."

  Harry scowled, "But I pay the goddamn fees for her to get into this place; I'm her Dom. She owes…"

  Joel couldn't help the growl that rumbled in his throat, and it startled Harry into loosening his hold on Sophie. Joel pinned the young man with a look that had Harry's eyes widening as he realised he'd seriously overstepped the mark.

  "And as her Dom, I know you understand your responsibility to your submissive," Logan continued smoothly while Joel took Sophie's hand and pulled her away from Harry and into the care of Trinity.

  "Take her downstairs to one of the aftercare rooms and give her some water and some chocolate. Don't leave her until I come down and check on her," Joel directed quietly as he passed Sophie off, then he spun around, ready to tear a strip off the young Dom in front of him. Before he could let rip and ban the youngster, Logan's hand clamped down on Joel's shoulder.

  "However, just to refresh your memory, I'm advising that you retake the in-house Dominant course."

  Joel stiffened at the words and felt Logan's hand squeeze his shoulder. He looked at his friend, and Logan raised his eyebrows, his eye's steady on Joel's in an expression that said, 'trust me'. The two of them shared a silent conversation until Joel barely dipped his head in acquiescence and Logan patted his shoulder before he dropped his hand and moved to take charge of the violet wand.

  Joel turned his attention back to Harry and scowled. "You're on suspension until you've completed the course, with a guest ban until I'm happy that you've learned something." Turning, he gestured Harry to precede him through the door. "And your evening finishes now. Master Logan will see you out."

  Harry blustered, his face turning an interesting shade of red. "What about my fucking sub?"

  "I'll take care of her, since you don't seem able to!" Joel replied cuttingly. No way was he letting the poor girl out of the building with this jerk.

  Joel checked in with the control room, and happy that another Dungeon Monitor had been assigned to cover him, he went to find Trinity and check on the guest sub.

  He found her sitting in the corner of a comfortable chaise, clutching a bottle of water in one hand, the other hand in a death grip on the subbie blanket which was wrapped tightly around her. Trinity sat next to her, stroking a soothing hand up and down the girl's back, and Joel squatted down in front of her so he didn't appear so intimidating.

  "Hey there, Sophie." He softened his voice and used her name to put her at ease.

  "I'm sorry." Sophie sniffled, looking at him from beneath lowered lashes.

  Joel pressed a gentle finger against her lips. "None of this was your fault, so there's no need for you to apologise."

  She raised her tear streaked face a little higher. "Harry said it wouldn't hurt, maybe I should have just tried a little harder."

  "No!" Joel admonished gently. "You did exactly the right thing. If you're not comfortable in a scene, you should always safe word." He tipped her chin so she faced him properly. "Just because you are a submissive, doesn't mean you're a doormat, Sophie. You are the one who's in control of any scene. It's important that you remember that, and if you ever feel that isn't the case, then you shouldn't continue. Understand?" Sophie nodded miserably and lowered her gaze, and Joel released his hold and got to his feet.

  "I do think it's important that you take the club's submissive course, though, Sophie. If you're serious about continuing this lifestyle."

  She looked up sharply at that. "But I can't afford it!" she blurted in a panic.

  Joel smiled. "Don't worry; we have a special scheme in place where you can help out at the bar or with the cleaning crews in exchange for the course fees and a subsidised membership. There are other options, too. I'll put your name forward."

  Sophie jumped up and launched herself at him, and Joel took a step back in surprise before catching her around the waist and steadying them both.

  "Oh, thank you so much!" she mumbled into his neck.

  Peeling her away from him, Joel patted the girl's cheek. She couldn't be more than twenty, he thought, now that he got a good look at her.

  "Thank me by finding yourself a more experienced Dom," he replied and made his way to the door, where Logan was waiting.

  "So, why'd you stop me from booting his ass?" Joel scowled as soon as they were out of earshot.

  "You know why!" Logan rolled his eyes as they walked back towards the arena stages. "Booting him was just a kneejerk reaction. We keep him here; we keep an eye on him. We make sure that he gets educated sufficiently and that he doesn't pull any more stunts like that."

  "Yeah, yeah!" Joel muttered begrudgingly, raising a hand in acknowledgement. "If we throw him out instead of reforming him, then we just release him onto some other poor, unsuspecting individual or club for a repeat performance."

  "You're just sore because I stole your fire." Logan winke
d as he peeled off towards the bar while Joel resumed his DM duties.

  Safe, sane and consensual. They weren't just a catchphrase, they were the entire ethos of Club Risqué, one which Joel was proud to uphold and that fed into his natural desire for control. He got off on knowing that he was in command of everything around him. Whatever was going on in this place, he had the ability to stop it. If anyone stepped out of line, he had the authority to deal with them; if any undesirables wanted to gain membership, he had the right to refuse them. If any member broke the rules, he had the power to expel them, both literally and figuratively.

  It was no secret that Joel was a complete and utter control freak. From his employees, he expected loyalty; from his friends, he expected honesty; from his club members, he expected integrity.

  And from his lovers, he expected nothing less than absolute, unequivocal submission. If he wanted quiet, he expected silence; if he wanted still, he expected motionless. If he played with a submissive, he expected obedience, not a brat who topped from the bottom. That was the type of sub he detested. To him, they made a complete mockery of the very definition of a submissive. He knew many of his friends thrived on the challenge or got a kick out of the banter and that was fine with him; to each their own. But that was never going to do it for him, and he wasn't yet willing to settle for less.

  And so, it had become easier to settle for nothing at all. More and more often, he lived vicariously through the club so he could shelve his disenchantment and hold on to the fantasy of his perfect partner.

  Maybe Connor was right; maybe it was his own fault that he wasn't having any fun. Perhaps Joel's cravings really were excessive. The trouble was he didn't have a clue how to dial down his expectations and still feel satisfied. Hell, if he was going to settle, then he might as well just marry the sterile society wife that his father craved and give him the satisfaction of the two-point-four grandchildren and the heirs he was desperate for Joel to produce. God, that was a depressing thought. Almost as depressing as his friends' insistence that the ideal he was chasing didn't exist. But Joel still wasn't quite ready to let it go.