Out of the Dungeon (28 page)

He found it.

"The chair is mine," Roman said. "You may
kneel beside it."

Jason took a sharp intake of breath. The
moment seemed to stretch to forever. Then he nodded and let his
eyes slide away. He moved to kneel beside the chair, and Roman sat,
letting his right hand rest at the nape of Jason's neck, just under
the edge of his hair. He gave a gentle squeeze and watched a shiver
work its way down Jason's spine.

Roman could tell Jason was shocked at his own
self, kneeling beside the chair like a submissive. So, he was a
non-participant, hmm? Roman smiled to himself. Well, not
tonight.

Jason was tense and rigid, very likely
second-guessing his decision to do as Roman commanded, and Roman
knew that he was experiencing the raw fear of the
about-to-be-initiated. He leaned over and let his lips brush across
Jason's ear. "Clasp your hands behind your back, eyes forward, and
kneel up straight, don't rest your ass on your heels unless I tell
you to be at rest."

Jason straightened up, put his hands behind
his back, and although he stared at the moving mouth of the emcee,
Roman suspected that he had no idea what was being said, who was
being introduced. His attention was on Roman, waiting for whatever
might come next.

Tim the door guy came next, walking in front
of them, and when he saw Jason, he stopped and did an obvious
double take. He flashed his teeth and said, "Well, look at you."
Tim reached out a hand, and Jason flinched.

Roman caught Tim's wrist, and his admonition
was almost a bark. "Whoa. Mine. Don't touch."

Tim offered a sheepish grin. "Sorry. We don't
stand on high protocol here."

"No, I see that. Just wear the high
titles."

Tim didn't know if he should be insulted or
not, which made Roman want to laugh. Apparently Tim decided not to
be insulted, because he said, "We could fit you in for a demo, up
on the stage, if you'd be interested. Might be fun, having an out
of town guest, and all."

Jason swiveled his head to look at Roman.

Roman caught him looking. "Did I tell you to
look at me, Jason? Hold your form and look straight ahead. You
don't need to think, and you don't need to worry. About anything."
To Tim, Roman said, "I can't do a demo without some kind of
preparation. And I didn't bring any tools."

"I'm sure we can beg, borrow, or steal
something. What would you like?"

Jason shuddered.

"A heavy flogger with half inch tails. And
twenty minutes somewhere semi-private."

"There's a dressing room down the hall past
the bathrooms. Says Employees Only on the door. Nobody will freak
out if you go in there. I'll find a flogger."

Tim backed up a step, caught Jason's eye, and
winked. "This will be fun."

"Okay, Jay-Jay boy," Roman said, snapping his
fingers. "Grab your drink. Let's go." He walked away, threading his
way past the stations toward the restrooms, trusting that Jason
would follow.

It used to be the dressing room for the
dancers, with lighted mirrors lined up above a long low counter.
When Jason came in, he said, "The last person to call me that was
my mother. Dead five years now."

"Do you like it?"

"I'm not sure. It tugs at me."

Roman smiled. That was okay. "Good." He
raised his glass in the gesture of a toast, said, "Bottoms up," and
drained his drink.

Jason did the same, then set his drink down
on the counter. "You're not going to flog me up on that stage."

"I'm not? Who am I going to flog, then?"
Roman asked, genuinely curious.

"I don't know." Jason answered. "Someone
else. Grab a volunteer from the audience or something. I saw
Precious with her iPod all set. She'd gladly bare her back for
you."

Roman shook his head. "Nope. Has to be you,
or I'm not doing it."

"Why me?"

"Get into position again. On your knees."
Roman wanted to see if the boy would agree. If Jason had submission
in his heart, Roman would find it.

Jason sighed, but obeyed.

"Now, tell me why you risked going to your
knees for me, when you've never been a participant before."

"I overhead you on the phone talking about
basement dwellers when I was on my way outside," Jason confessed.
"There are always quite a few creepy types at our meetings and
events, and everybody pretends not to notice. But you noticed."

"So noticing the basement dwellers makes me
trustworthy?"

Jason shrugged. "I guess. Sort of."

"Or maybe it's that I'm not from around here.
You can risk it, because you figure I'll disappear, and you won't
have to commit to anything."

Jason shrugged and stared at the floor.

"Tell me," Roman said.

"Sort of the opposite of that," Jason
admitted. "You'll be leaving, so you don't risk anything."

Roman laughed, and said, "Here." He opened
the address book on his phone, then handed it to Jason. "Put your
number in," Roman said. "And your last name. If you're willing to
trust me, I won't pull a disappearing act on you."

Jason entered his information into the
address book.

Roman took the phone back and dialed the
number. Jason's pocket buzzed. "Me, calling you. So now you have my
number, as well. We're even. Now. Let's talk about flogging."

"All right," Jason said, and his words
sounded crisp and fragile, like the leaves of fall.

"As I'm sure you gathered, I owned a club and
dungeon. I am very good at what I do. I'm not going to string you
up naked before the eyes of your community. And a heavy flogger
with half inch tails feels like a massage. Don't get the wrong
idea, though, I could make it hurt. I just won't. I'll demonstrate
some of my favorite techniques, so it will be more about me
performing than you suffering. Your part will be to trust me to
keep you safe, and give yourself up to the fantasy. You're here to
find a fantasy, you told me that. I can make it happen for
you."

Jason nodded.

"So far you haven't found anyone to measure
up to your fantasy, because, after all, these are real people,
living in a real city. Mostly with kids and day jobs and all the
rest. But you're here because you keep thinking someday your prince
will come. How close am I?"

"Close," Jason said. "I love them and disdain
them at the same time, but yeah, I keep hoping."

"All right," Roman said. "You've now learned
how to be at attention. Do your knees hurt yet?"

Jason nodded.

"Of course they do. That part never quite
gets into the fantasy. You can rest your bottom on your heels if I
say you can rest. You look straight ahead, or at the floor, or at
my boots, and you don't look at me unless I tell you to. Got
it?"

"Yes," Jason said.

"Tonight you can call me 'Sir.' If we go
further into things, that will change."

"Yes, Sir," Jason said.

Roman saw the front of the boy's jeans
tighten. The new ones were so enjoyable.

Minnesota might not be so bad, after all.

"Minnesotans are known for their stoicism,"
Roman said. "I don't want any of that. I don't brook with my subs
holding back their sounds. If you're miserable, or frustrated, or
turned on, I want you to make some noise."

Jason's cheeks went red, as if he were
imagining himself attached to the cross, thrashing and moaning.

"And if you feel like crying, cry for me. I
love it," Roman said, and watched the blush deepen.

"Before we do anything, I have to be honest
with you. I'm having a very complicated mid-life crisis at the
moment. I came to Minnesota to take care of my grandmother, not to
take on a submissive or find a lover. Not that I would pass up an
opportunity for either, but it's only fair that you know, up front,
that I have some serious obligations. If you want to stay in
contact after tonight, you will have to fit yourself in amidst a
lot of other stuff and people. I don't have time to devote to a
full-fledged boyfriend."

Jason nodded. "I appreciate you telling me
that up front."

"Now. Is there anything I should know about
you before we do this thing?"

"Like what?" Jason asked.

"Like any health problems? Diabetes, chronic
back pain, migraines, seizures?"

"Oh. No. I broke my arm when I was a kid, but
nothing other than that."

"Which arm and where?" Roman asked.

Jason held out his left arm and massaged the
area between wrist and elbow. "There. Clean break that healed well.
No troubles."

"Can I put a cuff around that wrist? Is it
strong?"

"It's strong," Jason said. "I work out three
or four times a week. I can press twice my weight."

"All right. Let's go sit down until Tim
invites us to the stage."

"Can I relax a minute and have a smoke
first?" Jason asked, glancing into Roman's face.

Roman looked at him and weighed the request,
then shook his head. "No. In this one small way, you can suffer for
me."

Jason took a deep breath, then nodded. Roman
picked up their glasses, empty now but for the water left by the
melting ice. He went through the door, leaving Jason to follow.

He walked to his chair without looking back,
and found a nice heavy-handled flogger waiting there. It had wide
soft fawn colored tails. He swung it against his own thigh, felt a
pleasant thud and heard a satisfying thwack. The counterweight in
the handle was brilliant. When Jason arrived, his eyes went wide,
and Roman snapped his fingers to the side of the chair. "I think
I'm in over my head," Jason murmured, as he knelt at Roman's
side.

Roman sat down and chuckled. "Of that there
is no doubt, my young friend," he said. "We're going to have a
marvelous time. This is a beautiful tool."

On the stage, a cute blonde sub wearing a
sweet white corset, thigh-high stockings, and an equally sweet
thong was bent over a spanking bench, and a tall, dark Domme in
knee-high boots and black denim was getting ready to smack her ass
with a wooden paddle. "You can be at rest," Roman said to Jason,
then asked, gesturing at the stage, "Who are they?"

"Lady Crystal and Lacey."

The spanking commenced, and the women put on
a show. Lady Crystal started slow, but Lacey's ass warmed up fast.
From the corner of his eye, Roman saw Jason flinching in time to
the metronome sound of wood slapping skin.

The ladies entertained until the sub was
weeping and the Mistress was drenched in sweat. Not half bad.

The emcee returned, and the sound had been
fixed. She thanked Lady Crystal and Lacey, and urged the crowd into
applause. Then Tim jumped to the mic and encouraged the patrons to
make more noise.

Then he hushed them, like the conductor of an
orchestra. Roman could tell the crowd was used to this. Tim took
the cordless microphone. "I'm sorry to report that Master Robert
and his boy, Link, aren't going to make it, because their little
dog, Betsy, is giving birth." There was gentle laughter, and some
nodding heads. Roman almost laughed out loud. The community was so
tight that they seemed aware the event of puppies was imminent.
"But never fear, my friends, you know how I always have a back-up
plan."

"What are you going to back up into?" someone
from the audience yelled, and Tim hammed it up, backing up a few
steps to bump into the spanking bench, then moving away from it
with exaggerated surprise. "Well, that damn thing, for one. Who the
heck put that there?"

It was pure schtick, but it was cute, and the
audience enjoyed it. People moved to the bars and refreshed their
drinks, some kept their attention on the stage, but others moved
into little groups, greeting one another with hugs from arms and
touches from lips. It was a casual stage and a casual audience.

Jason was looking more and more nervous.
Roman lifted a hand to the top of his head and petted him. Jason
startled at the first touch, but seemed to relax some when Roman
kept playing with Jason's sandy blonde hair. The hair was a little
long around the ears, but it felt good to caress a boy this way, to
figure out how to soothe a stranger. The way into a sub's heart
could be found in the gentle touches in between the beatings, the
soft words of praise, the validation that not only is submitting
okay, it's beautiful.

"Anyway," Tim was saying into the mic.
"Backing up to my back-up plan." There were slight twitters of
laughter. "A very special surprise stumbled upon our party tonight,
and it gives me great pleasure to introduce him. Some of you might
remember when we took Charlie's fucking machine to New York city –
"

" – that's Sir Master Lord Charlie to you,"
someone yelled, and this time the laughter was louder.

Tim rolled his eyes. "Yes. Are you ever going
to let me introduce our special guest?" He paused, and studied the
crowd. "Yes? Now? Okay. He hails from New York city, a club called
Above the Dungeon, and his name is… drum roll? Can anyone give me a
drum roll?"

The DJ was able to oblige, because the sound
of a drums came rolling through the club.

"His name is… Master Roman!"

"Stay here until I call you up," Roman said
to Jason, and walked up onto the stage and took the mic.

"Nice intro, Tim, thanks," he said, and shook
Tim's hand. "Hi, I'm Roman," he said into the mic, wanting to
dispense with the idea that anyone in the room should call him
Master. "I need to thank Timothy for is letting me in the door.
He's a good bouncer, wasn't fooled for a second that I was the
Naughtygranny who had rights to the invite. But I think it's going
to work out okay. I can't even imagine why my grandma had such an
invitation, considering this event started after her bedtime. But
don't tell her I said that or she'll beat my ass."

The audience gave up a few giggles.

"So. Tim asked me to do a demo, and I'm happy
to oblige. I was known for impromptu demos at my little club on
Christopher Street. But the thing is, I was the Dungeon Master
there, and on any given night I could pull someone out of the crowd
who'd subbed for me at some point in the past. So I have to admit
that I'm at a disadvantage here in Minnesota. But someone's offered
me the use of a gorgeous flogger, so I'll practice with that a bit,
get a feel for it, and then demonstrate some of my favorite
flogging techniques. I'm not going to strip my sub –" a collective
groan came from the crowd – "I know, I know, ya'll like to see some
skin. I'm with you there. I'm asking him to trust me cold, which is
enough for one night." Roman set the mic down and removed his
leather vest so he could pull his tee shirt over his head. He put
the vest back on over bare skin.