The restaurant downstairs had become so popular, it would be packed on a Saturday night, with lots of vanillas who had no idea what was located right above their heads. Mitch found the whole thing both genius and hilarious.
At the top of the stairs, Freddy was waiting. He’d once worked the front desk at Stronghold and was now managing that part of Marquis, but he still scheduled himself for at least one shift a month to check people in. Mitch hadn’t known until about a month ago, Freddy was also a lawyer at a pretty prestigious firm downtown. Kincaid had seen him in action, helping out some other members of the club, and said he was a total shark.
No one looking at him right now would guess it. He had spiked his blonde hair with some kind of gel that made it glittery with pink highlights, the white button-down shirt he had on had ruffles around the collar and wrists, and with a hoop hanging down from one ear, he looked like a very pretty pirate. Well, if pirates ever had glittery hair and actually wore eye makeup like Johnny Depp.
“Master Mitch, hello,” Freddy said, glancing down at the computer in front of him, a slightly curious expression on his face. Mitch grinned and sauntered up to the front desk, leaning his elbow on it.
“Hey, Freddy. Think you can sneak me in tonight?” he asked with a wink.
Freddy froze for just a moment, then he frowned at Mitch almost fiercely and wagged his finger. “You are bad, Master Mitch. Whose guest are you?”
Chuckling, Mitch straightened. One of these days, he’d be able to pull one over on Freddy, but today was not that day. “Just keeping you on your toes. I’m with Kincaid and Zach.”
“You’re the first to arrive. Would you like to be seated, Sir?”
“Yes, please.”
The black leather pants Freddy was wearing added to his piratical air, and Mitch grinned in appreciation as he followed him into the main room. The stage was already set up with a padded leather table, a bucket of water, and a tray waiting to be filled with whatever Mistress Lisa would use for the scene.
He wasn’t the very first to arrive, although there were only a few other people already sitting down. Scanning the room, Mitch was surprised when his eyes fell on Morgan sitting alone in a booth.
She’d been one of the submissives in the same class Domi had taken, and well, the things he’d learned about her during that time had made him feel extra protective over her. Truthfully, he was that way over all the submissives from that class, even if Domi was the only one he’d been interested in calling dibs on afterward. Domi and Rae didn’t really need anyone watching out for them, though. They watched out for each other.
Morgan and Samantha, the other two subs in the class, didn’t have that. They’d both come to the class alone and hadn’t really bonded, thanks to having very different personalities. Actually, Morgan seemed to have trouble making friends in general. Mitch wasn’t sure if it was because of her past or her personality, but he suspected a combination of both. She was also incredibly easy to take advantage of, which was why his concern rose when he saw her there on her own.
“Thanks, Freddy, I’ll be right back,” Mitch said, tapping his fingers against the table Freddy led him to. Seeing where Mitch was looking, Freddy nodded his head in approval and left the menus on the table.
“Enjoy your evening, Master Mitch.”
Sauntering over to Morgan’s table, Mitch smiled broadly when she looked up at him. She perked up, eyes sparkling with happy surprise and a smile lighting up her face. Morgan was, in a word, stunning—long red curls tumbled over her shoulders and down to the curve of her very large breasts, wide green eyes with thick lashes, and pale skin that marked up beautifully under the lash. She knew exactly what makeup to wear to emphasize her assets, and he knew she took a lot of pride in doing so, now that she could.
“Hello, Morgan, is it okay if I sit down?” he asked, gesturing to the booth. With anyone else, he probably would have just slid into a seat, but Morgan needed practice saying both yes and no.
“Yes, please, Master Mitch.” She beamed at him like an eager puppy who knew they’d just passed a test. Mitch grinned back at her in approval.
“Are you here on a date tonight?” Even though he knew Freddy would be watching over her, that didn’t mean he couldn’t do the same. He knew Kincaid, Zach, and Brian would all feel the same way when they arrived.
To his surprise, Morgan shook her head, almost gleeful. “I’m meeting friends here! Submissive friends!”
Well, damn. Warmth expanded in his chest, and it took him a moment to realize what he was feeling was pride. All of them had worked with Morgan on fitting into the club scene, but her background had been working against her. Though she’d asked that information not be shared with anyone unnecessarily, all the Doms who worked with her had to know so they didn’t accidentally add to her trauma. She was still in recovery from being abused by a bad Master—on every level. It was too bad since it might have helped her if the other submissives understood what was actually going on with her. She’d had trouble adjusting to the idea other submissives weren’t competition and might even want to be friends with her.
“That’s wonderful,” he said, reaching out across the table for her hand, which she immediately took so he could give it a squeeze. Morgan responded to both verbal and physical cues of approval from anyone she considered dominant to her, but she craved touch more than anyone he’d ever met, though she never asked for it. “Anyone I know?”
Domi
Swaying on her high heels—six inches were a torture device on their own, but she didn’t plan to be on her feet for very long—Domi sashayed into the back of Marquis with her bestie by her side. For once, she was taller than Rae, who had chosen to wear cute kitten heels rather than stilettos. That was Rae, though, dressing like a baby girl even though she swore up and down she had no interest in a Daddy Dom.
Domi had been to Marquis once a month with Mitch for the past six months for the shows, so she knew if she actually wanted to watch and pay attention to a scene, she was better off coming with Rae.
The rear entrance to Marquis had been instituted once the owners realized the restaurant portion of the building was too crowded to provide complete coverage for people who were just coming for the kink on the second floor. Domi liked it because when she was all decked out in leather and lace, she didn’t exactly blend with the restaurant patrons.
Rae—with her multitude of long braids pulled into pigtails with purple bows, a purple corset pushing her boobs up like a platter, and black and purple tutu—would have stuck out even more. At least Domi was dressed in all black, whereas the virulent purple of Rae’s corset and ribbons looked radioactive. It was also stunningly gorgeous against her dark skin and black hair.
Sometimes, Domi wished she could wear something other than black, but she had a hard enough time getting people to take her seriously. She knew what she looked like. ‘Fairy-like’ was the term used most. More than one Daddy Dom had approached her, hoping her hard exterior was really just a brat covering up a vulnerable Little. While she didn’t mind a bit of roleplay, that particular role didn’t do much for her unless it was combined with the stuff she liked. It wasn’t one she could sustain outside of a scene, no matter how she looked.