Without a Net (9 page)

“Cops are that easy to spot, huh?” he asked, watching as she headed over to the chain-mail G-strings and plugs that functioned as a uniform in this madhouse.

“Oh, hell, yes. Sometimes those pansy-assed control-club Doms come in here looking for some poor sub to save. They’re easy to spot too. I hate those assholes who look at me like I need saving. Do I look like I need someone to ride to my rescue?” She whirled around, her dark eyes flashing.

“Um, no?” Ollie guessed. “Honestly, you kind of scare me.”

Buck huffed.

“Good,” she said. “That’s the right answer. And if I like to play rough, some piss-water Dom doesn’t get to tell me what I do with my body. Those assholes would like it if everyone followed their rules, but I’m pretty sure this is a free damn country and I can do what I want as long as I’m not hurting someone else. Trust me, I don’t do the hurting, and I enjoy the getting hurt.”

“I think they’re worried about the kids who get sucked into this when they don’t know what they enjoy,” Ollie said, and the second the words were out his mouth, he regretted them.
Fuck.
It was like he was trying to blow his cover. He could almost hear Kemboi cursing a block away.

While he’d expected indignation, Naida laughed. “You newbies are all the same. You listen to too much propaganda about shade clubs.”

“And you think it’s that simple? If some kid without any experience tries to play without safe words, things could get really fucked-up,” Ollie said. He’d seen that outcome more than he wanted to admit. Maybe Naida and Buck could take care of themselves—maybe the shade subs Travis talked about were strong enough to protect themselves—but glamorizing shade led to some unimaginable abuse, and Ollie had been on the front lines of that war.

She gave him a cold look. “And if someone is that inexperienced, they’ll run like hell the second Buck shows them some attention. So, are you trying to tell me you want to run for those safe control clubs?” She studied him like he was a worm.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You know the truth. Don’t let all that control-club propaganda get in your head. Now let’s find you a uniform.” Naida clearly thought she’d won, and Ollie let her think that. Unlike the fools who believed her delusions, he’d seen the crime scenes—the abused subs and the people who claimed to be Doms who just liked fucking people over. Maybe shade was some exciting adventure for Naida, but it could turn into hell if she trusted the wrong person for one second. The danger here came from people, and Ollie didn’t have a whole lot of trust for people.

However, he let her and Buck get him into the uniform. The gag was larger today with a wide cloth piece that covered his lower face, and he would definitely be doing the butt-plug waddle. Once he was fully outfitted, Buck gave him a hard slap on the ass that probably left a bright handprint, and Naida handed him a computer.

“Time to work, people,” Naida said. She hooked her finger through one of the links that went around Ollie’s waist and pulled him back out the door. This place had the toppiest subs Ollie had ever met. He also thought they were pretty damn delusional if they didn’t see the danger around them, but for now, he’d play along and trust that at least one of his two backup teams actually had his back.

Chapter Seven

Ollie shimmied his hips as he slid the tray down onto the table. His ass was sore from a couple of dozen slaps and pinches and one full-scale spanking that had left him crying. A young sub named Daniel had slipped into his place and started sucking the Dom off the second he let Ollie up, and Ollie had retreated to the kitchen to blow his nose and get his breathing back under control before going out again.

But now he was back at work, mentally cataloging the illegal activity on the floor. Daniel seemed psychologically solid enough, but there were a couple of younger subs Ollie worried about. Working here, they were getting a skewed view of power exchange, and he wasn’t sure they were secure enough in their tastes to choose this lifestyle.

He had handed out the last drink on his tray when Naida caught him by the arm, dangerously close to the dermal switch. “The boss wants to see you in back,” she said, plucking the tray and computer out of his hands.

Ollie watched her to see if she was concerned about the request, but she was already working the Doms in the area, scoping out which would want a little female attention. So Ollie headed toward the back office.

When Ollie pushed open the door to the office, Allemande was sitting on his worn leather couch, and his chair was occupied by an androgynous individual who watched with a sharp gaze that made Ollie uncomfortable. He hesitated at the doorway, but Allemande gave him a grin. “There you are. This is a great opportunity for you.”

Those words were enough to make Ollie run for it, but Allemande had him by the arm and pulled him into the office.

“Is this him?” The new person turned toward Ollie. There was a hint of an Adam’s apple, so Ollie suspected ey had been male at one point, but now the gender-neutral pronouns seemed safest. Ey raised a sculpted eyebrow and studied Ollie.

“He’s made mistakes, but he’s honest with himself and willing to speak his mind,” Allemande said.

“Oh, I’m sure he is,” ey said. Ey stood and came around the desk to get a closer look at Ollie. “Jake, take a walk and let me get to know Sunshine here.”

Allemande seemed startled. “Maybe I should stay. You’re overwhelming at times.”

Ey laughed. “I’m overwhelming all the time. Now get out.”

Ollie normally preferred more unambiguous males, but there was something in the way ey held eir head and the sheer confidence that made em attractive. Eir hair had streaks of gray in the short bob that matched the gender-neutral persona. Eir shoulders were wide, and ey had large hands, hinting at masculine traits, but ey had a narrow waist and long, more delicate features.

Ollie studied eir features, trying to place them ethnically. Maybe some Indian or perhaps some African ancestor many generations back. As stunning as ey was now, ey must have stopped traffic when ey was young. Ey had the look of a high-end model.

“Milan,” Allemande said.

Eir name was Milan—still no hint of gender, but that seemed to be rather intentional at this point.

Milan looked at Allemande. “I promise not to eat him alive. Now go. Do something useful with your time, and that is an order,” Milan said firmly. So clearly ey was the real owner here. That surprised Ollie, because nothing in the paperwork suggested that anyone owned a piece of the club other than Allemande.

Allemande kept eye contact with Milan for a second and then nodded. “Fine. I’m sure you know what you’re doing. You always do.”

“Yes, I do,” Milan said.

Allemande gave Ollie a pat on the arm that did not feel all that reassuring, and then he left.

“Sunshine, Allemande has recommended you as a potential employee,” Milan said, eir voice deep with a touch of accent. Milan moved behind Ollie, and all the hair on his arms stood up. He braced himself, his fingers twitching toward his panic switch, but Milan only unlocked the gag. Ollie pulled it off and turned to look at Milan.

“So, are you looking for work?” Milan asked. Ey studied Ollie until his skin crawled with the possessiveness of that gesture. It was too aggressive—too possessive. Ollie suspected he had made a major step toward finding their missing victims, but he didn’t have any proof yet, so he took a breath and played his part.

“Maybe. Right now I’m happy to have the job here.”

“I think your current job is preventing you from showing your real talents.”

Ollie nodded. “Maybe. Maybe if I have some time to think about it, I would be interested in a more challenging position.”

Milan smiled. “More challenging. I like that. I am definitely more challenging, and do not speak to me without addressing me as sir or master.”

“Master?” Ollie asked. Most gender fluid preferred
marban
or
maréchal.

“Oh, I am male. I just don’t feel a need to be ruled by my hormones,” Milan said. Ollie yelped when a line of fire whipped across his ass, and only a second later did he register that Milan had picked up a switch. “There are consequences for incorrect behavior. I would enforce a certain discipline you seem to currently lack in your life. Now tell me what rule you broke.” Milan held up the switch, and a seed of panic sprouted in Ollie’s heart.

“I failed to address you properly, sir.”

“Ah, so you are smart and quick thinking. I think your current employment is underutilizing those traits.” Hands brushed the back of Ollie’s head, and then a blindfold came down over his eyes. Ollie awkwardly crossed his arms, his fingers near his dermal trigger.

“I’m not comfortable with this, sir.”

“And I am largely unconcerned with that since any danger is imagined. Now answer my questions honestly, and I will consider whether you may fit my organization’s needs. If you saw a child being beaten, would you step in?”

“Of course,” Ollie blurted. He was answered with another sharp line of fire bisecting his ass. He yelled and added, “Sir!”

“Better.” Milan sounded amused. “Now, what if the man doing the beating was well armed with friends who could provide backup?”

“I’d call the police, sir.”

“What if they are the police?” he asked.

That made Ollie think. As much as he wanted to deny the plausibility of that scenario, he knew that cops were people—some good and some bad. He also knew that his cover persona felt no sympathy for police. “I would find a way to stop it, sir. There’s always something.”

“Like what? Describe an option,” Milan said, and he paced around Ollie. Ollie could track his movements by the harsh clacking of heels against the linoleum floor.

“It depends on the environment, sir. I could pull a fire alarm or record the beating and e-mail it to a reporter. That might not stop the beating immediately, but the asshole couldn’t ever do it again. A picture is worth a thousand words, sir.” Ollie had studied the history of policing, and he knew how bad the corruption had been before body vids had been standard-issue for all police forces. Now at least the dirty cops had to get creative about doing their shit on their own time.

Milan circled, and Ollie started to come down off full alert. It could be that Milan was looking for a personality with enough malleability to brainwash, and while Ollie knew everyone had a breaking point, his wouldn’t come easily. He had a strong enough personality to withstand a lot, and his answers proved that.

After several lazy circles around Ollie, Milan laid his hand on Ollie’s back. His palm was warm against Ollie’s skin as he stroked Ollie. The gesture, for all its intimacy, made Ollie feel like a horse at auction. Caught between fear and arousal, Ollie straightened up and reminded himself he had a mission here.

Ollie gasped as a keen pain pierced his chest, and he jerked back before he realized Milan had pinched his nipple. He might have lost his balance, except a strong hand caught his elbow. “You do react nicely.”

“Um…thank you, sir?”

“So, how would you react if you saw two people drowning, me and a child?”

Ollie knew these twisted shade Doms craved attention and demanded that subs make them the center of their world. They wanted to break people until they had no morals but to serve the master, but that wasn’t Ollie and he wasn’t going to even pretend. “I hope you can dog-paddle for a while, sir, because I’ll save the child first.”

Milan gave a throaty laugh. “I like you. I might even have some time to train you personally.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ollie said, and he mentally sorted through a dozen excuses for leaving. He needed to ensure Milan allowed him to walk free tonight. The backup teams needed time to investigate him and figure out what his connections were to the club and the disappearances, and if they were forced to raid the place tonight, there would be a shitload of trouble with the investigation. “I have some friends I’m trying to help from my days of doing sun. I need a couple of weeks to try to help them out, and then I would be available any hours, sir.”

“Your friends? Those who use sun rarely have friends. They have victims.”

That was too true. The damn drug had vicious side effects. “I’m clean. I want to help the others, and I know the dangers, so there’s no one better to help them…sir.” Ollie nearly forgot the honorific, and he blurted it out at the very end.

Milan chuckled. “You are the caretaker sub, aren’t you, Sunshine?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What a beauty you are.” Milan ran his hand over Ollie’s chest, and his nipples hardened. He had always been a sucker for praise, and this was coming too close to his real kinks.

“Sir, I should get back to serving.”

“Should you?” Milan walked around to Ollie’s back, pressing his long, lean frame up against Ollie. “I am enjoying this. Do you like knowing that I’m aroused at the feel of you?”

Ollie swallowed. “Yes, sir.” He liked it too damn much.

Milan stroked down Ollie’s arms, pushing them down to his sides. Then he wrapped his hands around Ollie’s wrists and held them firmly. “You are so very obedient. I want to punish you for forgetting your manners, but you never have. Would you break a rule if you knew it pleased me to hurt you?”

Ollie’s cock got hard in its chain mail. This was embarrassing. “Yes, sir,” he answered, and his voice had a tremble he didn’t like.

Milan ran his teeth over Ollie’s bare shoulder. “You are so very beautiful,” he said. A chill went across Ollie’s skin. “I don’t think that fools should be allowed to own beautiful things, Detective Robertson,” Milan whispered in his ear.

For a millisecond, Ollie froze. When he opened his mouth to scream, to deny, to do something, someone shoved the gag back inside, and hands grabbed him. Too many hands. Another person had come into the office, or possibly many more. Ollie realized the cool shiver had been the office door coming open, and now he had God knew how many opponents holding him.

Ollie threw his weight backward, and a whole mass of people fell with him—three or four at least.
Shit.
How the hell had that many people gotten into the office without him noticing? He tried to reach his panic switch, but someone caught his wrist chain and pulled his wrists out in front of him so he couldn’t reach his arms. Giving up on that goal temporarily, he kicked out at someone standing to the side. He heard a low curse, and then someone punched.