Secrets Learned Page 6

  Without any undue haste, the rest found seats and like one, looked at Mimi. Now I know what a bug feels like under a microscope. She fought not to squirm. “I’m not sure I could let go like that.”

  “Join the club,” Ailsa said. “I’m a copper. I have to be in control at work, but here? Well, Ross takes care of that. I’m honored to be his sub, and to let him be in charge.” She grinned. “Okay, unless I cry red. But I trust him to know what’s best for me.”

  “Well, I’m confused. You all make it sound so easy.”

  “Well, it is and it isn’t,” Theresa said. “But, hey, it’s up to you. If you want the chance to see what you need and enjoy, well, Master Alex is the one for you. He’s a sadist, true.”

  Mimi groaned. “That’s pain.”

  “But he’s a good one. All I can say,” Kath said in a sympathetic tone, “is if you don’t try, how do you know? Ask him to hit your butt over your jeans with a thuddy flogger, and see how it feels. Ask him to scribe one tiny stroke on your palm.”

  “Use that open mind I think you have,” Theresa added. “Then decide. Give him a chance.”

  “What’s the thing about alcohol and playing?” Mimi decided she might as well change the subject and ask that. All this try and see was making her clit clench and her mind remember how wet some of her reading made her.

  “If we’re playing—scening—we don’t drink. Some people might, but it’s a rule of Diomhair, if the Dungeon Master suspects anyone of having had an alcoholic drink, and then playing, they’re sent home,” Kath said. “If they suspect it a second time, their membership is rescinded. No booze. It’s dangerous. You lose your inhibitions, yes, but you also lose your sense of definition and of clarity. That’s when mistakes happen. Don’t drink and play.”

  “Fair enough.” Mimi took a sip of wine. “That’s me safe now.”

  Shane sniggered. “Yeah, sorry, Sir, I’ve sipped, so no scening. Tough, Mimi, one sip doesn’t count.” She took Mimi’s glass off her. “You might regret it if you drank some more.”

  “Well, I was told,” Mimi stared at Theresa, who blushed, “by someone not a million miles from here, that tonight was a chance to look around and ask questions. Why do I get the feeling I was set up?”

  “Because you were,” Theresa said, in an unrepentant tone. “I needed someone with an open mind who would stand up to Octopus Eric. I knew you could and would. Okay, I hoped my instincts were correct. I reckon the guy is a closet sub, but thinks it’s belittling to a man. Well, he’s an ass, and we all know that. It takes a very strong person to admit to their desires and needs and act on them. He’s not one, and, boy, does it show. Now, Alex, for example? My lovely brother is an out and out Dom, an artist at scribing. There’s no other way of putting it and he accepts what he is and why. I thought you’d click and be able to ask him questions. We’re not weirdos howling at the moon, and like I said, we come from all walks of life, both Doms and subs.”

  “We’ve got teachers”—Kath grinned at Mimi—“doctors, lecturers, shop assistants, housewives, accountants, typists, builders—you name it. The list is endless. Members can be millionaires, on benefits or anywhere in between. Inside the club we’re all equal. BDSM is an umbrella, I guess. After all, who is to say only one type of person can play? Or even that there is only one way to enjoy whatever it is you enjoy. I mean, define normal? Your kink might not be mine and all that, is oh so true. I think only making love in the dark, in the missionary position is weird, but, for a lot of people, that’s their thing. Their kink, so to speak. As long as a couple or a threesome or whatever all consent and it’s safe and sane, who are we to judge?”

  “You have a point there.”

  “Of course I do,” Kath said. “We all like different things and that’s how it should be, not just in kink, but in everything. I mean, how boring would the world be if we all like coffee and no one liked tea? Or no one read erotica and only read thrillers?”

  “Boring,” Mimi said, just to get a word in edgeways.

  “Exactly, boring, and we need more in our lives than that.”

  “Ohh, Kath’s on her soap box,” Jess said. “Watch it. She’ll convert you as soon as look at you. She did me.”

  “I did not,” Kath protested. “You were a sub and wouldn’t admit it.”

  “Well, let Dominique take a breath before you decide what she is and she doesn’t get a chance to find out for herself,” Jess said. “She looks shell-shocked.”

  “Mimi,” Mimi said firmly. “I’m Mimi.”

  “Not to Alex,” Theresa said. “He said you were Dominique.”

  Mimi shrugged. “Well, it’s immaterial anyway. All I’m here for is to talk to you and look around. I’ll just ignore him.”

  Liar, liar… Her mind screamed at her. Who was she trying to kid?

  “I’d like to see you try,” Theresa said. “If Alex wants you, be prepared for an onslaught.”

  Mimi clung to her common sense. ‘If Alex wants you’. He’d made her aware he did. But at what cost to her sanity? Could she reconcile her own feelings with what he admitted he needed?

  “Nope.” Damned if she didn’t sound as emphatic as she hoped.

  “We’ll see. Anyway, you are a sub.” Kath sounded convinced. The others nodded.

  Hell, it’s like a conspiracy. Or The Stepford Wives.

  Mimi opened her mouth to query the statement when there was the sound of static from the corner of the room. Everyone looked toward a tiny monitor she’d not noticed before. It wasn’t looking into the room, but showed an area outside, of the car park, she thought.

  “That’s getting worse,” Jess said. “We need a whizz to sort it so we can see what’s going on without the men knowing. They think we shouldn’t be bothered with all the security stuff, but, hey, we’re as involved in what goes on as much as they are. More at times. White vans knocking people over and stuff.”

  What? “I’ve no idea about white vans except some seem to think they own the road. Some, mind, not all, but, seriously, some are awful. But then so is that old guy who drives a red jag around here at fifteen miles an hour max.” The static increased. And Mimi winced. “That is terrible. Anyway, I might not know much about BDSM, white vans and whatever, but I do know about electronics. No one needs to suffer that noise so let’s do it.” Mimi stood up. “Anyone got a tool kit?”

  “You can fix it?” Kath sounded intrigued, not skeptical.

  “Maybe. I do all my own stuff.” Mimi hauled a ladder-back chair underneath the monitor, clambered onto the seat and examined the screen. “I need to see the camera.”

  “Follow Jess then,” Theresa said. “Then we can come back and brainwash you a bit more.”

  Twenty minutes later they all trooped back into their room.

  “You made it look like child’s play.”

  Mimi rolled her eyes. “It was.”

  “Well, now it’s time to learn about sub’s play,” Theresa said with a smirk. “Not quite the same thing, but damned enjoyable.”

  “Ohh, who’s nagging now then?” Jess asked. “What was it? Let her draw breath?”

  “Girls, wheesht.” Shane laughed loudly as she drew a cutting motion in the air with her left hand. “I’ve just learned how to say that and I love it.”

  “Especially in an Aussie accent?”

  “More than,” Shane said to Kath. “Mimi is supposed to be asking questions. We’ve used up most of our time, and no one’s taken more than a sip of wine. Don’t you dare, Kath. Leave it and be ready for whatever is needed. I bet you’ll end up showing Mimi something with Jeff. In fact, I bet all of us will be involved in a small scene. Else how will she be able to report back?”

  Mimi glanced around the room. “Really?” Everyone had put their wine down. “Why?”

  Kath cleared her throat. “Usually this would be a club night, but we thought it best to ease you in gently. We thought there might be a little bit of play, just to show you the ropes.” She snorted. “In more ways than one.”
<
br />   “Ease me in?” Ropes? Oh my, Shibari? Not for me, but… “I’m not interested.” Sound more positive, stop squirming and do not let the way my pussy muscles clench, show.

  “Really? You read BDSM books though?” Kath was like a ferret after a rabbit—determined to get to a successful end and catch her prey.

  Mimi felt the heat rush through her. “Yeah, but that’s different.”

  “Why is it different?” Ailsa, who had been quiet up to then, spoke out. “Except that some of it’s rubbish. If you like to read it, and you do?”

  Mimi nodded. “Some of it.”

  “Then why not try it?”

  That was the question Mimi could sense on everyone’s lips.

  “Well?”

  Mimi shrugged and bit her lip. “I just don’t think it’s for me.”

  Ailsa stood up. “Neither did I. In fact, I guess you could say I discovered I was a sub and into kink by accident. It’s a long story, but before I agreed to see what I liked and didn’t, I had hardly any idea what the letters stood for. It could have just as easily been bright, dark, sunny and mellow, or broke, dreary, skint and mumpy. I’m glad they don’t though.”

  “Think of it as taking driving lessons or riding a horse,” Jess said. “You know. You start at the beginning, learn more and get better.”

  “And if I crash or fall off? Get injured or hate it?”

  “Then, and only then, you can decide if you’re brave enough to carry on,” Jess said.

  “Or,” Theresa added with a glare at Jess, who just smiled and crossed her arms, “if you really are sure it’s not for you, then you say so. Think over what you saw, heard and experienced and put in an honest report to the committee.”

  “Fu… B… Er, damn, I’d forgotten that was at the bottom of all this,” Jess said. “You will, won’t you?”

  Mimi was hurt anyone would think differently. “Well, if you think you need to ask that, there’s no point me being here, is there?” She put her glass down and stood up. “Can someone point me in the direction of my shoes and stuff?”

  “Don’t be daft.” Shane tugged her down again. “We’re a wee bit sensitive on the ‘diss and disgrace Diomhair’ front. Jess has had it in the neck more than once. And we all can’t help but worry since someone tried to pretend they were a sub, and we’re not sure what it was all about.”

  Jess smiled ruefully. “Guilty as charged. I didn’t mean it offensively, Mimi, really. But, well…” Her voice trailed off and she spread her hands in supplication. “Bloody Arperony or Arwen Penny or whatever she called herself.”

  Kath shook her head. “Jeff is still trying to ferret some information out about her.”

  “It took me a long while to admit what I am, to come to terms with the club and begin to see it’s needed,” Jess said. “Now to know an arsehole like Octopus Eric is trying to shut it down—probably because he won’t accept it is what he needs—makes me so bloody angry that I tend to lose my sense of objectivity.”

  “Did you say Arwen Penny?” Mimi asked as her head whirled with this overload of information. Of course she couldn’t be the only one with doubts. Why should she be? She wasn’t that special.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “It just seems a bit coincidental, but I could swear—well, almost—that I heard that name or something like it, somewhere recently.” Mimi racked her brain. “Sod it, I don’t know where though. Sorry. And you say she was pretending to be a sub?”

  “Screwed Ross around,” Shane said. “The bug…blighter.”

  Kath rattled a box.

  “No, I didn’t say it. Not quite.”

  “Ross has decided if Shane says bugger it’s a pound in the charity box.”

  “I’m certain I support that charity box single-handed,” Shane said amid the giggles. “It’s not a swear word in Aussie-land.”

  “It is here. Okay, I’ll let you off this time. So, Mimi, what next?”

  Mimi stared. “Eh? Oh, right.” She did her best to drag her thoughts back to the present. “Show me around, I guess?”

  “Play?”

  “Er, no. Baby steps and all that. Like you’ve put me on the horse and leading me around the paddock on a leading rein.”

  “We can put you on a lead if you want.” Shane sniggered. “You can crawl as well.”

  “Shane, cool it,” Kath said in a warning tone. “For goodness sake.”

  Mimi went cold. “Pardon? Say that again.”

  “Put you on a lead. It’s not my thing, but…”

  Black spots danced in front of her eyes. Oh God, no, not now.

  “Catch her,” Mimi heard Jess say urgently as she felt herself slip sideways.

  “I…”

  Chapter Eight

  “Are you sure that it’s wise?” Alex asked as he made yet another pot of coffee. “Leaving that lot together is akin to committing suicide.”

  “Scared you might find your potential subbie had run screaming scary monsters for the hills? Or Octopus Eric?” Ross grinned as he stirred three spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee.

  Alex stared. “Since when have you needed three sugars?” He ignored the potential subbie comment. As much as he hoped, he had his doubts.

  Ross grinned wryly. “Since Shane became pregnant and keeps making us both sickly, stand your spoon up in the sugar coffee. Now I do it without thinking and want to throw up. And really one spewing person in a house is enough. Poor Shane, she has all-day sickness. The only play we get is when we bet on what time spew number one takes place.” He tipped the coffee away and made a fresh one—without sugar. “Ah, that’s better.”

  “Yeah?” Alex asked absently. Something on the security camera that showed the car park caught his eye. “Jeff, we expecting anyone else?”

  “Nope, why?”

  “Well, we seem to have a visitor. A white van which… Holy shit, what the fuck?” Something splattered over the screen of the camera.

  “A white… Aidan, is your bike here?” Jeff was half way out of the room before Aidan responded.

  “Sure, I’m on your heels.”

  “David, Ross, keep the girls in check,” Jeff snapped out the order. “Alex, you gonna follow?”

  Alex nodded and pulled on his biker boots.

  “C’mon, Ron, you can ride pillion with me.”

  Only he and Aidan were keen bikers. As he grabbed his jacket and helmet and passed his spare one to Ronnie, he wondered what perverse imp of fate made him ride that evening. It’d been his intention to drive until, restless and ornery, he’d taken the bike in the hope of sorting out his unusual mood. He’d even added the spare helmet, which was another unusual occurrence. Surely he hadn’t thought Mimi would want a ride home?

  Fuck knows what I thought, but it’s a stroke of luck, whatever made me do it. He kick-started the bike and revved the engine as Ronnie threw his leg over the saddle behind him. Jeff and Aidan were already several yards ahead and making their way down the main drive. Almost by instinct, Alex turned to bump over the lawn and across to the rutted narrower drive that led to a minor road several miles away. Known as the back drive, or irreverently, the back passage, it was only used by bikes and four wheel drives.

  He glimpsed a flash of white up ahead. So it wasn’t just bikes and four wheel drive vehicles that used it. So did white vans.

  He doubted Ronnie had plugged in the communication system, so he waved with one hand as he swerved out of a deep rut and over two shallow ones. Ronnie squeezed his waist. Alex decided it was a ‘yeah, I saw’, not an ‘ohhh, got to pull you close’ hug. He and Ron didn’t fancy each other.

  Even as he concentrated on avoiding boggy bits—it had been the usual Scottish summer—Alex bit back a snort. He loved his sister’s husband, but in a non-liquid sharing way, as Ronnie so eloquently put it.

  Alex swung the bike around a bend and once more saw the back of the van ahead. He opened the throttle, prayed Ronnie remembered how to ride pillion and decreased the distance between them and the van.


  The van slowed momentarily as it reached the lane and just as it swung onto the road, he got a good look at the number plate before it roared away. Thankful for his sharp memory, he got the number fixed in his mind then reached the gates, just as three lorries and a tractor went by and blocked his exit. They were followed by a stream of cars.

  Alex swore under his breath and put the bike into neutral as he lifted off his helmet. Behind him, Ronnie did the same and poked Alex on the shoulder.

  “What the hell is that all about?”

  “The fucking white van that’s been bugging us, I guess. Else why cover the security camera with gunk?”

  “Gunk?”

  “Dunno, egg most likely. Whatever… We need to see what the hell they were up to. Put the speaker thing in. We might as well go back. There’s no chance of catching it with that convoy in front of us. It’s not the sort of road to overtake on.”

  “Great techno speak,” Ronnie said with a laugh as he did as Alex asked and put on his helmet again. “Speaker thing in and working.”

  Alex punched him on the shoulder and followed Ronnie’s actions. They drove back to the house much slower than they’d left it.

  Jeff and Aidan were getting off Aidan’s bike as they pulled up alongside. Alex killed the engine and got off.

  “No fucking sign,” Jeff said, disgust uppermost in his voice. “You?”

  “Oh yeah, and I got the number, but for some reason that back road is as busy as the M8 motorway. What’s that all about?”

  Jeff grimaced. “Resurfacing at the crossroads, I guess. Okay, so you got the number but lost the van.”

  “Yeah.” Alex let his breath out on one long exasperated humph. “It went toward the Loch. That’s all I can say for sure.”