Good Girl (16 page)

Sounds were coming from around them,
from nobody she could see, but cries and moans filled the air, coming from
somewhere.

She followed Hunter from room to room,
until she was twisted around and not sure about the layout of the Paddles. All
of the walls were painted black and the lighting was dim. Hallways turned
abrupt corners and opened into small and medium-sized alcoves.

People were playing together in couples
and small groups, with others standing nearby watching. There was something
outrageous everywhere she looked. Some were tied up with their wrists locked to
chains dangling from the ceiling or attached to giant wooden X’s. Two men were
bent over small padded tables with their buttocks exposed and were being struck
by two women holding wooden paddles. A woman was in the same position, but a
guy was pushing a large dildo into her. Naked people, people crying out in pain
and pleasure, people of all shapes and sizes dressed in lingerie or black
leather. Exposing their genitals and breasts to everyone. Like a Halloween
costume party for the Adams family crossed with an orgy.

“You look a little dazed,” Hunter told
her when they had completed their first circuit.

“All these people are having sex in
front of everyone,” she whispered. “I could never do that!”

“It’s BDSM.”

“But they’re naked.”

“Well, I guess it is sex for some
people. For others it’s more of a spiritual, ecstatic response. And then
there’s the people who do power exchange as a relationship rather than playing
with sensation.”

“What is it for you?”

“Everything. I’m just kinky. I’ll try
anything once. I’ve even done the hook pull a few times—that’s really intense.
It’s what the Lakota Indians do in their Sun Dance, piercing hooks through the
skin of your chest.” He pulled back his shirt to show her the slight puckered
scar. “One on each side. It sends endorphins rushing through your body. It’s a
high like nothing I’ve ever felt. It puts you in another world. Opens your eyes
to what’s real and what’s not.”

Kali reached out to touch the scar, as
if by touching it she could feel a little bit of the sensation for herself. His
skin was hot, and her fingertips cool. “I couldn’t do that. I’d be too afraid.”

“You’d be surprised at what you can do.
And it’s a good thing to surprise yourself, push your boundaries a little. As
long as you make sure you’re safe.”

“Putting hooks through your skin doesn’t
sound safe to me.”

“You have to know someone before you let
them push your boundaries. And make sure they have the skills to do the things
they’re doing to you. I wouldn’t let just anyone pierce me with a hook, and you
shouldn’t either.”

It was such a solemn charge that she
could only nod.

He smiled, giving her cheek a stroke
with his fingertips. “Come on, Kitty-cat, I’m going to introduce you around.
I’ve told them I met you through a job, but don’t mention SunTech.”

Kali nodded, not sure why he wanted to
keep it a secret, but too dazed with all the new sights in the dungeon that she
didn’t question it.

It turned out Hunter knew everyone.
Those covert glances meeting hers as he had shown her around the club turned
out to be polite friends waiting for the signal that they could come over.
Hunter introduced her to everyone as his girlfriend, and they all looked
surprised by it. He put his arm around her shoulder or her waist, he kissed her
hand as they talked about things happening in the scene, people they knew,
events that were happening.

At least five different people told Kali
that Hunter had mentioned her to them. It was overwhelming. One second she felt
like she was entering an underworld filled with dark strangers, and now
everyone was smiling and practically fawning over her. Hunter was a popular
guy, it appeared. She felt like she was suddenly with the Prom King, while she
was wearing some old rag of a dress.

Hunter only used her first name, and
nobody else used their full name, though she did overhear someone referring to
him as Master Hunter. Some had a Sir or Daddy or Lady or Mistress attached in
front of their names. Others had playful made-up names like Ponygirl and
Bunnybrat.

“Scene names,” Hunter explained when she
asked about it. “We use them online or for playing. Most people don’t talk
about their kinky life because they can get fired or sexually harassed or their
family will judge them for it. It’s a real problem. We used to be called sick
or crazy.”

“I had no idea. Just because you like
kinky sex?”

“Yeah, so most people keep it a secret,
and use these scene names. But some people like it because they can take on a
persona that way, and let go of their ordinary life and have fun.”

When Hunter introduced her to a stout
motherly woman named Popcorn, she gave Kali a huge hug, pressing the large
black beads of her necklace into Kali’s chest. “I’m so glad to finally meet
you. Hunter said you couldn’t come last weekend. Had to go see the parents,
hmm? Well, it’s good to stay in touch. He says you’re new to the city?”

“Yes, less than a year.”

“And you’ve already found your way to
us! Imagine that.”

“It was Hunter… he brought me here. He
takes me all kinds of places.”

Popcorn smiled fondly at Hunter who was
partly turned away, listening to a heavyset man speaking to him in a
confidential tone. “Hunter has been having a love affair with the city for the
past decade. No girl can compete.” She appraised Kali. “But you might. He talks
about you differently.”

“Really? Because I wondered… I’m not
really his type, you know.”

Popcorn waved her hand. “Hunter doesn’t
have a type. Which is helpful because everyone wants him. But he’s a good boy,
he doesn’t let it go to his head.”

Kali grinned to hear Hunter called that.
“Good boy! I wonder what he would say if I called him that?”

Popcorn cackled. “He would like it
because you’d be starting something
he
would get to finish!”

Kali considered the friendly woman. “How
long have you known him?”

“I was one of the first people he met in
the scene. We were so young. We had just started the TNG right about then, and
he was a big part of that.”

“What’s TNG?”

“The Next Generation. It’s a subgroup
that’s just for people under thirty-five. My friends and I kept seeing the
younger people come and go because they didn’t want to hang out with folks
their parents’ age.”

“So this lifestyle is a big part of who
he is?”

“He’s a pillar of the community.”
Popcorn seemed to have no idea that she was saying anything that Kali might not
like. “I think he’s been to every kink conference in the country, and some
internationally.”

If Hunter was used to spending every
weekend at underground sex clubs, Kali wasn’t sure there was a future in that
for her. As nice as everyone seemed, it was downright odd to be chatting with a
woman named Popcorn while a guy was lying on the floor ten feet away getting
absently stepped on by a redheaded woman in tight jeans and a corset.

Still, the welcome Kali received from
everyone was reassuring. Several complimented her on being with Hunter, saying
in little asides, “He’s a great guy,” and “You’re so lucky he’s your first
master.”

Hunter handled it well, always attentive
towards her, and making sure she was all right, but giving her the space to
talk to other people without hovering over her.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, she
saw several couples were literally chained together by a leash that was
attached to the collar of one, visually marking them as property of the owner.
When Kali spoke to one couple, the chained woman waited until she was invited
into the conversation, and then after that spoke just like anyone else. It was
disconcerting, not the least because the woman’s breasts were hanging out of
her peek-a-boo top, looped by tiny decorative chains. Her body wasn’t in the
best shape, which made her apparent comfort at being so exposed even more
surprising.

But Kali was getting sort of used to
seeing people in all states of dress or undress. Some men and women were
completely naked—one middle-aged Latino guy had only a cuff and chain around
his ankle, and he held the end of the chain himself as he followed a stunning
brunette in a shiny black corset and thigh-high boots. So far, it was the
closest thing to what she imagined the patron of an S&M club would look
like.

So when Hunter put his arm around her
and asked, “How are you doing?” for the dozenth time, she said, “I’m think I’m
on sensory overload.”

“You’re not a voyeur.”
“I hope not!” She considered it. “Are you?”

He shrugged. “All men are. But I don’t
go peeping through windows, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, I don’t think that. It’s funny, you
wouldn’t think it, but being here and meeting everyone, I do get the feeling
you’re a good man. You’re not going to hurt me.”

“No, I won’t.” His voice changed from
joking to perfectly serious. “And I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting
you.”

She looked into his eyes, mesmerized by
his intense focus on her. He meant it; he would do whatever it took to protect
her. She had felt it before, and knew there was a bond growing between them,
tying them together tighter and tighter.

He cupped her cheek with one hand. “You
want to give us a chance, don’t you?

“A chance for what?” Her fear made her
throat tight.

“For whatever we can make it. This is
too strong for us to ignore. How can you walk away, not knowing what we can have
together? We have to try.”

She made herself say it. “I want a real
relationship. Love, partnership and sharing our lives. Do you really want
that?”

“When I think about you, I don’t want to
leave your side. I want to help you through the hard times. Be with you for the
good times.”

“What about this?” She looked up at the
club. “I’m not sure I want my social life to revolve around sex clubs.”

“Mine doesn’t. So I don’t see how it
could for us together. This is just fun stuff for me.”

She couldn’t say no, she didn’t want to.
And he could tell. His hand slid around the back of her neck, his fingers
reminding her of that first time he had taken hold of her and shown her that he
could set her on fire just from pulling her hair.

Her body responded instantly. Warmth
spread from her groin to her belly, filling her in a sudden rush. It didn’t
matter that they were standing in a black-painted basement surrounded by
half-naked people.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he
murmured, his lips close to her skin, taunting her.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I do.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to touch me.”

He smiled slowly. “Sir…”

“Sir,” she breathed.

He kissed her, which was better than
words. He seemed released by her agreement, like his pent-up passion burst out in
one all-consuming rush. She drowned in his kisses, squeezed in his arms until
she was breathless.

“Yes!” Hunter murmured, as he finally
eased his crushing grip. “Yes… you
are
mine.”

She nearly swooned. Why did it make her
feel so loved and desired? He said it like she was the only thing that mattered
to him.

“Let’s go someplace more private.” He
seized hold of her hand in a tight, possessive grip, like she was already under
his control. She felt blinded, reeling from the wave of lust he had shot
through her with his kisses and his words, as he led her through the club. She
didn’t care who was watching now.

He took her down a narrow hallway. At
the end was a door blocked off by a waist-high padded bench. She could reach
out and touch the old, worn bricks on either side. He turned her so she faced
past his shoulder, down the hallway, with her back against the padded leather.

Several faces peeked around the corner,
and one man with a scruffy beard hiding his mouth came and leaned against the
wall at the end, frankly watching. “There’s people there,” she whispered.

“You said you couldn’t imagine getting
naked in a place like this.”

Her eyes widened. “I can’t!”

“Do you trust me enough to let me push
your boundaries on that?”

Her arms went to cover her breasts, as
if she was already naked. “I can’t!”

He gave a little laugh. “Either you’re a
closet exhibitionist in deep denial, or you were brought up like the Amish.”

Her mom’s primly buttoned-up clothes
sprang to mind. “My mom is a very modest person.”

“You’ve never skinny dipped? Living out
in the country like that?”

Her head tilted. “Down to my bra and
panties.”

“Never naked?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, so bra and panties are your
limit.” His hand went out to the first button on her shirt.

Her eyes slid to the unsavory man
leaning down the hall. “What about them? Will they come closer?”