The Dom's Dilemma Read online

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2015 Raven McAllan

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-279-7

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: JS Cook

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To the Ravor Chicks, you spur me on.

  To Doris, Tina, and Paul. You know why.

  THE DOM’S DILEMMA

  Dommissimma, 5

  Raven McAllan

  Copyright © 2015

  Chapter One

  "No. Definitely not. Non, nada, nein and any other remotely no sounding word. Not on your nelly, no. Fuck, shit and buggery not on your life, no. Or in your life. Or whatever." Athol Donaldson slammed his hands on the work surface. Carrots and broccoli went everywhere. "Are you crazy? What on earth did your other parents say?"

  Saucer, his and Edan Murphy's daughter Seonagh's pet Dachshund and therefore the latest addition to the family, jumped in the air and caught one bit in his mouth. For a solid sausage dog, he could be agile when he wanted to.

  "Daad." Shit I sound five not twenty-five. But seriously, fathers. "Look dad, it's not like I want to boil bunnies or practice something weird and icky." Well I don't think so and you two sure as hell don't. "It's only what you do."

  "No. Have you never heard of do as I say not as I do? If not, now take it as read. And that dog is spoiled."

  "Shit, dad, he is not." Seonagh barely managed not to stamp her foot. As ever the crux of the conversation was getting away from her. "You dropped the food, he's just being helpful. A canine hoover."

  Athol snorted. Seonagh ignored it. "Dad. Bloody hell, why not?"

  "Language. Swearing shows a lack…"

  "Of vocabulary, and imagination, I know. A bit pot kettle and black going on there eh, dad?"

  Edan Murphy, Athol's husband made a sound halfway between a snoring elephant and a kettle on the boil. Athol turned to him.

  "Not helpful."

  Saucer whined and twined himself around Athol's legs. "Not you sweetie, them there others." Saucer woofed and leaned against Athol. As he spent a lot of the time under Athol's desk, whilst Seonagh was at work, the weight didn't seem to bother Athol one bit.

  "Well?" Athol went on. "Are you not going to say something sensible and tell our daughter it's just not on?"

  Edan held his hands in the air. "Hey, don't go putting words into my mouth, love. Seonagh is old enough to make her own mind up about things."

  "See?" Seonagh turned to Athol. "Dad says what you've both always said. I can make my mind up."

  "Don't you go putting words into my mouth either, young lady." Edan waggled his finger at Seonagh. "I was about to add, once she's had everything explained to her fully. So go on now tell us. What are you? Domme or sub?"

  She blinked. That was going for the jugular with a vengeance.

  "Oh," Edan added. "And why."

  She blinked, opened her mouth, and cleared her throat. How on earth could she answer that? She had no true idea.

  The silence lengthened. Saucer looked from one to another and yipped. When no one paid him any attention, Seonagh watched him go and sit on his blanket next to the Aga. Considering it wasn't his home, he certainly had all the comforts of one. She wished she could join him. The atmosphere was decidedly chilly.

  "Exactly." Athol said as the silence stretched to an uncomfortable length. He sounded more than triumphant. "You have no idea. See, I told you. No."

  "That is where you're wrong. Excuse me." Seonagh put her hand on his arm, moved him to one side of the vegetables he was preparing, and ignored his indrawn breath at her rudeness. She knew fine well it was bratty behavior, but maybe that meant she did have sub tendencies? It was something she needed to know. Dammit, why was life so complicated? A visit, to watch and learn and then…she picked up a carrot stick and crunched it.

  "Sorry dads." Seonagh turned around and faced the two men who both had identical stern expressions. "Look. Let me try and explain. Shit, I mean, goodness me I need a drink. Can I be bratty, and ask for some wine?"

  Athol shook his head in mock exasperation. "As we have the pleasure of your company for the night, I've got a bottle or two chilling. Chenin or Sauvignon?"

  "Chenin, please."

  He nodded and opened a bottle with one twist of his hand. "Ede?"

  Edan nodded and apart from Saucer woofing in his sleep, the only sound to be heard was the glug-glug as wine filled a glass. Athol handed two of them over and picked up the third.

  "So now talk. And do not just say, oh by the way I've asked to join Dommissima can I give you two as references? The answer will still be no." Athol kicked open the door to the lounge and led the way to the settee and comfy armchairs there. "Reasons and decisions explained please."

  Saucer opened one eye and whined.

  "And you're not going either."

  Edan laughed. "I can just see it. The dog with a pink collar and cuffs or wielding a crop."

  Athol grinned and Seonagh chuckled.

  "Yes, well." Athol sighed and looked at their daughter. "Why can't you just be vanilla?"

  Edan choked on his wine. Seonagh patted him on the back and giggled.

  "And that's likely? With you two as my dads, and being conceived in a menage? That'll be right."

  Athol shrugged and joined in the laughter. "Okay, yes, faint hope when everything you think is normal probably isn't."

  "Define normal," Edan and Seonagh said at the same time.

  "Okay, throw my words back at me why don't you," Athol said in a grumbling tone. However it was obvious he wasn't serious. "Mind you, don't I remember someone, unknown to me or Dommissimma, who tried to get into the club underage. When I asked her if she wanted her ass the same color as the cushion she said something about all she could think was ‘not unless you want a Glasgow kiss, your nose behind your ears, and your balls rearranged to fit under your armpits’.

  She hadn't known who he was nor him her at the time, but the picture he painted had made him wince.

  "That was years ago," Seonagh said. "And I was trying to find my dad. As well you know. Give me a break, I so need to find the real me. I'm…" she hesitated. "Floundering for want of a better word. This might be too much information for you, but I'm bored with sex. Bored with the way I'm treated. Oh don't look like that, dad." She looked at Edan and rolled her eyes at his blank expression. "You know what I mean. I'm twenty-five, I own and run a thriving business and, sorry, I'm no longer a virgin. My life is missing something, and I don't mean my virginity. I'm sick of having to say oh left bit, harder, yeah just there, like that. No sod it, not like that." She swore she was as red as her hair, and her nickname at school hadn't been carrots for nothing. Her dads' faces weren't a lot better. Nevertheless, now she'd started she was going to carry on.

  "Or deciding where to go for a meal, what film to see or whether he should wear a t-shirt or a jumper. Or well, everything. I'm in charge at work, I have to be, but once I leave the bookshop? Why do I always get the dippy ones? Well, I want cherishing. Let someone else make the decisions, and tell me what to do."

  "Not all males who want direction are dippy," Athol said, with a wink to Edan he probably thought she wouldn't notice. It made her wonder again what their dynamic was. Oh she didn't want specifics bu
t…

  "I thought I might want to sub, but I really have no idea what it entails. I couldn't go all meek and mild, yes Sir, of course Sir, three bags full Sir, especially if they were bags of bullshit. I have a mind of my own and use it."

  "Bratty sub." This time it was Edan and Athol who spoke together.

  "Huh?"

  "You, honey. Come on, you know what we mean," Athol said. "Traumatic as it is to talk about your sex life or lack of it, you're a typical bratty sub as far as I can see. Independent, feisty, ready to challenge but with the right Dom, you'll fly."

  Seonagh did her best to tamp down the butterflies in her tummy. She knew that if they wanted to, either of her dads could block her membership, and probably would like to, but she reasoned if she wanted to learn it had to be from the best.

  "Will you help me? I can understand all the reasons why not, sort of, but I need to know. And," she said triumphantly, "Mum said to ask you."

  ****

  Athol looked at Edan who shrugged. It was painful enough to accept their little girl was all grown up and not so little or innocent any more, but to know her life was lacking made it worse.

  "Dad?"

  He bit his lip. To hear Seonagh call them dad was little short of miraculous. At one time she'd been determined he and Edan would be her fathers, and she'd call them by their given names. The title 'dad' was to be reserved for her mum's new husband, James. Which he and Edan thought was only right and proper. However since the birth of her little brother Gordon, she'd called all three of them dad with all their blessings. It hadn't seemed to faze young Gordon. He called them all Daddy, and added their names to the title.

  Athol often thought James was some man to accept his son calling two other people daddy as well, but James assured him it was no biggy. "It's just a handle."

  "Dads, what do you say? Either of you. I'm getting worried here. Tetchy and twitching."

  Seonagh's question dragged his thoughts back to the present.

  Dommissimma? Okay he and Edan rarely played there anymore, even though they still acted as dungeon masters, or took a class if Linsey, the co-owner asked them. It was a bit close to home. He looked at Edan for help.

  "What exactly do you want to do?" Edan asked her.

  "That's just it, I don’t know," Seonagh said. "I wondered about one of the introduction nights, where you see a little bit of everything."

  "No," Athol said, as Edan shook his head. "They're fine as a general idea, but I reckon you need more than that. I wonder?" He glanced at Edan. "Claudio?"

  "Who?"

  "Claudio Martakis. Greek dad, Italian mum, born in Glasgow. He's a great tutor." And an out and out sadist who'll scare the pants onto you, not off you. With luck. It wasn't that he didn't want Seonagh to explore her wants and needs, far from it. But he wanted her to be totally sure of what she did want. Claudio and his ideals would hopefully show her that a lot of BDSM wasn't for her. The thought of their daughter at Claudio's mercy and enjoying it was too scary to contemplate. However, he was uneasily aware if she did take to it like a duck to water or whatever, he'd have to suck it up.

  "You sure?" Edan asked, and then he grinned. "Ah, yes, I see. Good idea."

  "Why am I worried?" Seonagh asked them. "As in all of a sudden you've changed your tune."

  "Not at all hon, we just want to make sure we suggest the right person for the job. Okay, I was gobsmacked, you'd never even hinted before."

  Now she felt five.

  "Yeah, well I wanted to be sure it was what I want." Gah eloquence thy name is not Seonagh. "Okay, I'm still not sure what exactly I feel is missing but I've got to start somewhere."

  "Exactly. I so agree. If you insist on finding your true self we'd be failing as parents in not making sure you do it in the best way possible."

  His expression was oh so innocent. Seonagh smelled a rat. A very large rodent. She made a mental note to Google the guy.

  "Claudio Martakis? I've never heard you mention him."

  "He's not been around for very long, just a few months, but he is one of the best. And how often do we talk about the club to you?'

  True enough, but I still have an itch between my shoulder blades.

  "Then I want to meet him somewhere neutral first." Seonagh watched their faces become blank with shock. So they were up to something.

  "And," she said emphatically. "You two are going to be there as well."

  Chapter Two

  "You what?" Claudio tucked his t-shirt into his black denim jeans and looked up at the two men standing in front of if him. "You know what I am, right?"

  Athol nodded. "That's why you'd be perfect to show her the ropes."

  "Literally?" Claudio picked up a new, still in its wrapping Shibari rope and tossed it from side to side. "With a side order of scribing?"

  Edan shrugged. "We don't know if she knows what she wants, but we reckon to…"

  "Throw her into the deep end? Sink or swim?"

  Athol nodded. "Yeah."

  Claudio ran through his commitments in his head. Athol and Edan had been good friends right from the start, but a daughter? That was a curve ball of the highest order. "I'm guessing one of you will want to be dungeon master?" To his surprise they both shook their heads.

  "Oh no," Athol shuddered. "It's bad enough knowing our little girl is kinky like us, we don't want to see it. Nah, you choose your own. We've just agreed not to block her membership and to ask you to do the honors."

  Put like that, Claudio accepted there wasn't much else he could say except, "Yeah, sure. So not an intro night, a regular one? Or shall I ask Linsey for an evening to ourselves?"

  "That'd be better," Edan said. "It's not orthodox, but then what is? Let's face it, Ede and I aren't really up to knowing a woman's mind. It’s a deep, dark mysterious place, full of pitfalls."

  Claudio tied his long dark hair back into a plait and let it swing over his shoulders and down his back. "Well having two dads sure isn't run of the mill, and who does know the way a woman thinks? Except the woman."

  "She has three dads, not two, and it's a long story, which isn't relevant," Edan said. "So will you contact her?"

  Claudio nodded. "Sure." Damn, he was beginning to sound like an automated toy, which had a limited vocabulary. "It'll have to be the week after next. I'm in Greece next week for a family wedding. Strictly vanilla. My second cousin Thassos is marrying Maria, sister of my childhood friend Draco. I used to spend half my holidays in Greece, half in Italy. I dreamed of going to Ayr." He smiled. "Typical kid. But Draco and I, we go way back. Now it's his wedding. Food, drink and dancing, and for me, dodging matchmaking mamas. This will give me something else to think of other than, 'yeah send me your daughter, niece, cousin, or whoever, and tell me, would she prefer edge play or flogging?’"

  Claudio rolled his eyes and picked up his wallet. Athol chuckled and Edan shook his head.

  "At least you're not gay, and having that shoved at you."

  "True enough, I'll be thankful for small mercies then. Meanwhile, I'll check with Linsey what nights are free. I'm guessing your daughter may have a preference as to which evening?" It occurred to him he didn't even know her name. "And I'll need some basic info. Like her name and email addy."

  Athol laughed. "Duh, true. Her name is Seonagh McMath, she's twenty five, redheaded with a temper to match. She runs a café and bookshop, and her late nights are Thursday and Friday. Oh and she insists on a meet up there first, with us two as back up I guess."

  Shit, that was all he fucking needed. Meeting someone he was going to perhaps flog and scribe, drip wax over and goodness knows what else, judge and be judged, and have her parents there. Well two of them anyway.

  "Which one of you is her birth father?"

  Athol looked at Edan and then they both shrugged.

  "No idea, we were in a menage with her mum at the time." Edan said.

  It figured.

  "And her mum's married so she has a stepdad," Athol added. "Happy families. And that's not a m
isnomer. We're godparents to her younger brother."

  Okay. Complicated—not.

  "Here's her card, it's got all you need in it."

  Claudio took the card and glanced t it. Plain, elegant and classy. Books n Browse. Seonagh McMath…etc. etc. He tucked it into his pocket. He needed to move, but he had one last question first. "McMath?"

  Athol nodded. "Her mum's name. We were late to the party." His tone brooked no more questions and Claudio decided to honor it. After all didn't they all have secrets?

  He'd find out more when he wanted to.

  ****

  Ten days later Claudio flung his suit carrier on the bed, and kicked off his shoes. He wriggled his toes and reveled in the freedom. Claudio hated shoes with a vengeance, and preferred to go barefoot whenever possible, or if not, only wear flip-flops.

  It had been a hectic few days in Crete, with numerous aunts, uncles, and assorted other relatives asking him when they'd be dancing at his wedding. He'd smiled and given non-committal answers. After all, 'never unless I meet a masochist to match my sadistic tendencies', might not go down too well, except with his great aunt Maria. She'd looked him up and down, smiled, and patted his shoulder.

  "A good boy. Master of all you desire, I wager." Then just before he left, handed him a tiny, sharp knife. "It was your great uncle’s," she said. "Use it with pride." She pushed the sleeve of her dress up, and showed him a tiny scar in the shape of a heart. "He was an artist. I think you have his talents."

  The knife was tucked into his wallet.

  He wandered into the kitchen and rooted out a bottle of 25 year old Highland Park whisky and poured a generous measure mixed with the correct amount of water. He'd had more than enough Greek brandy and beer to last a life time, and reckoned he would have put on a stone if he hadn't fed an a assortment of local cats surreptitiously under the table, and jogged every morning along the beach.