Fleur de Nuit: Bourbon Street Bondage, Book 1 (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Moira woke to the sharp sting of a hand slapping her naked ass. She jumped, practically landing in Adrian’s lap where he sat on their bed.

“Rise and shine, mes filles. I have work for you today.”

Moira groaned. “God, Adrian, I hate you. What time is it?”

“Almost ten thirty. So roll yourselves out of bed, mes chères.”

Kara rolled over, hugging Moira to her. “Make him go away, please. I’m not done sleeping.”

Moira smiled and stroked her hair. She wasn’t particularly interested in moving, either. Adrian had worked her nonstop since their arrival Monday night, and she had been determined to enjoy a nice Saturday morning sleeping in. “Sorry, hon. He’s being a slave driver this morning.”

Adrian sniffed and looked offended. “I could have woken you both two hours ago. But mon ange has a client at noon, and I have need of our Kara. So up, both of you, before I’m forced to spank you each.”

Kara pried open an eye and gave Adrian a wicked look. “Promise?”

Moira laughed. “Not really a threat, is it? Come on, hon. How about I promise to spank you later?”

“Done.” Kara kissed her quickly and jumped out of bed.

Moira shook her head and followed more slowly. She rifled through her things and glanced back at Adrian. “Enjoying the show?”

He grinned. “Immensely.”

She rolled her eyes. “Slave driver. Who have you got for me today?”

“A bored couple in need of a little adventure, and before that a visiting playboy who needs to be told no.”

Moira raised an eyebrow and looked back at her clothes, before tossing a few things to the bed. “Those do all right?”

Adrian glanced at the midnight blue pinstriped corset and fishnet stockings. “Oui, that should do nicely. Though I do believe you could show up as you are and be quite fine.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not a chance, Adrian. You said no sex with the clients, remember?”

Adrian sighed dramatically. “Oui, I did. Maybe I miss having to fight you for the top.”

Moira grinned at him. “I’m sure you could convince both of us to spend the night in your bed, instead of your tower.”

“Convince? Mon ange, you wound me. Most women beg for my bed.”

Moira laughed. “All you have to do, mon Maître, is ask.”

He eyed her and changed the subject. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about Josephine, but we haven’t had much time for vay-yay. What did you think of her?”

“Yes, because I’ve been busy beating every ass in the parish, thanks.” Moira tossed a few more items to the bed and pulled up her hair in a bun. “I think she’s a little spoiled and isn’t ready.”

“You are as smart as you are beautiful.” His lips grazed the back of her neck as his arms wrapped around her. “You had better go join your Kara before I pin you back in that bed, mon ange.”

Moira winked, leaned in to kiss his cheek, and then headed to the bathroom. A single backward glance showed Adrian grinning madly. She flipped him off with a grin of her own and walked through the bathroom door.

Hours later, Moira collapsed into Adrian’s office chair with a sigh. “That’s the last time I let you book me two back-to-back with no lunch.”

Adrian laughed and a moment later the door opened. Devon stepped through carrying a few bags, followed by a grinning Kara.

“Did I hear someone whining about no lunch?” She whispered thanks to Devon and started pulling takeout plates out of the bags. “Nothing fancy, I didn’t know if we had time, so it’s only burgers from Coop’s.”

Moira popped open the lid of hers and took a deep breath, savoring the smell of grease and meat. “God, it’s perfect. Thank you, hon.”

Adrian took his with a smile. “Merci, ma chère. Did everything go well?”

Kara grinned and sat down with her own food. “We’re all set. Master Toussaint and Marcelle know we’re coming. They’re looking forward to meeting your new Domme,” she added, winking at Moira.

Moira swallowed her bite and looked between the two of them. “Wait, what’s going on?”

Adrian and Kara both laughed before Adrian answered. “La Danse Macabre.”

Kara nudged her. “Remember, I was telling you about it?”

“Right. So what’s the deal?”

“It’s a kinky nightclub. It’s the public face. They get a lot of not-serious players that show up, and it’s a good way to sort them out. Plus it’s fun to have a place that’s kind of borderline, because not everyone does want to go all in with kink. So about once a month, Adrian goes recruiting to see if there’s anyone who really wants to go all in who has found their way there.”

“So how can you tell?”

Adrian laughed. “You’ll see, mon ange. You develop an eye.”

Kara rolled her eyes. “It’s not hard. There’s cosplayers, vampire-goth types, thrill seekers, all kinds. Most of them aren’t interested in anything more than light play, and that’s fine. They’re just all different, and most of them only want to skirt the edge of our world. There are always a few who aren’t sure if it’s for them or not, or want to see what it’s about. There are the weekend BDSMers, and ones who are full-time members of the community, or looking to be. Their attitude and bearing are all different. Anyway, Adrian’s right. You’ll see.”

Moira nodded slowly and turned to Adrian. “So this Master Toussaint, he runs the place for you? Who’s Marcelle?”

Adrian smiled. “Ah, la belle Marcelle. She is his sub. Switch, actually. They run the club together. He’s the public face. She has a simply beautiful mind for the books. They’re a fantastic pairing. One of the best love matches I’ve ever seen.”

“So we what, show up at this club and wander around?”

“Not quite. Toussaint knows we’re coming, so he’ll try to thin the herd a little, as it were. Cull out the ones he thinks we’ll want to see.”

Moira chewed on another bite of her burger and thought. “Okay, so I still don’t see what the big deal is.”

Kara and Adrian exchanged a look. “La Danse Macabre isn’t the big deal, hon. You are.”

“Mais, new Dommes are always a big deal. Toussaint has been waiting to meet you.”

Moira shook her head. “One day, I’m going to tie you down and make you explain why everyone insists I’m such a big deal. I’m not.”

Adrian grinned in reply and Moira gave up. She shrugged and went back to her burger.

Moira adjusted the bowler hat in the mirror with a sigh. The satin jacquard corset she’d picked out had black and blue striping with blue floral brocade under and along the bust. The dark blue sheer skirt had a slightly steampunk flavor that she loved, with a set of chains lifting the front into a gather at mid-thigh, showing off her fishnet thigh-high stockings and platform heels. Her heavy black hair cascaded down her back in a tail of twisted curls.

Kara’s hands snaked around her waist, and Moira moaned softly, letting her head roll back as Kara’s lips traced their way up her neck.

“You look fantastic. Love the hat.”

Moira smiled and wrapped her arms around Kara’s. “Mmm. Adrian’s idea. He seems to have a thing for hats.”

“That’s because they look totally sexy on you.”

Moira turned and kissed her, reluctantly letting her go to give her a look over. “Speaking of totally sexy, look at you!”

Kara smiled and twirled. She wore a short white brocade bustier that ended right at her belly button, with leather lacing down the side, and a white leather mini skirt that showed off black fishnet thigh-highs with white lace corset tops. White open-toe heels finished off her outfit. She winked at Moira and whispered, “No panties.”

Moira shook her head. “Insanely sexy. Love it.” She hooked her finger in the leather lacing of Kara’s bustier and whispered, “Me neither,” before pulling her in for another kiss. She bit at Kara’s lip as she pulled back, watching her light green eyes darken. “God, I could get used to that.”

Kara breathed out slowly. “What?”

“Kissing you.”

They both turned to the door as Adrian cleared his throat. “Mes filles. Are you ready?”

Moira bit her lip and gave Kara a longing look before replying. “I suppose.”

“Excellent.” He offered an arm to each of them. He wore a black suit with purple pinstriping, a black dress shirt and a fat purple tie. A black and silver pinstriped fedora with a matching purple ribbon and black wing tips gave him a definite 1920s feel. “Shall we, then? Devon has the car ready for us.”

He handed Moira her crop and tucked his cane under one arm, and the three of them waltzed down the stairs arm in arm. Devon, dressed in an elegant chauffeur’s costume, grinned his approval as he held the car door for them.

The car ride was short, even crossing Rampart Street and avoiding the undrivable streets. La Danse Macabre, as Adrian had told her, was situated in what used to be Storyville, New Orleans’ former red light district. He was clearly proud of putting a kink nightclub there. Moira had simply shaken her head.

Devon stopped the car on the back side of the block to let them out. Moira exited the car with a deep breath. Short of the night at Fleur de Nuit, she hadn’t been in public in her Domme persona. If a student, or God forbid a parent, recognized her…

“Breathe, Moira. You’ll be fine.”

Kara’s whispered words calmed her racing heart. She reached up and lowered the lace on her bowler, and took Adrian’s arm with an unsteady grin.

“Mon ange noir, no one’ll recognize you.”

Moira nodded and smiled at Adrian, then at Kara on his far side. Arm in arm, they strolled up the street to the club. The people lined up outside the building ranged from vampire to steampunk to goth to nightclub in their dress. All of them whispered and pointed as the three of them passed, making a straight line for the doors.

The doormen, a hulking black man and an only slightly less impressive Caucasian wearing leather pants and collars, let them in without question. A number of the people in line protested, but a pale woman in head-to-toe black leather holding a bullwhip glared them into silence.

She nodded to Adrian. “Maître.”

“Maîtresse Cassandra.”

Inside, the music assaulted Moira’s ears, trance music with light overtones and overwhelming bass beats. It crossfaded into a remixed Cole Porter song, the relentless bass never stopping.

The inside itself looked like a gutted warehouse. The west side of the building held a bar tended by several men and women in matching black pants, shirts and fedoras, with white suspenders and ties. White and black lights lit the area around and behind the bar.

The dance floor took up most of the space, though dancing wasn’t exactly what she’d call what was going on. More like cosplay meets orgy meets dancing.

She felt Kara lean in to whisper in her ear. “Remember when we cosplayed in college?”

Moira smiled. “You promised me you’d never bring that up. And okay, you weren’t kidding when you said there were a lot of different sets here, were you?”

Adrian grinned. “Don’t be afraid to use your crop, mon ange. Some of them can get a little… What’s the word you use, Kara? Grabby?”

“Wait, we’re going in there?”

Adrian nodded. “Ready?”

“You should’ve given me a bullwhip, not a crop. Point me where we’re going, and I’ll clear a path.”

Adrian pointed to a spot on the far side, kitty-corner from the bar. Moira nodded and twirled her crop, pushing forward into the crowd. Her crop tapped left and right, moving people out of the way. Some simply moved, some stopped and turned. Some required a second or third use of the crop because they either ignored or reached out to touch. The latter reaction earned them a glare and a sharp slap.

They were about halfway through the crowd when a man deliberately stepped in her way. With a sculpted chest, tattooed arms and spiked black hair, he wasn’t at all unattractive. But he was in her way, and Moira didn’t like the cocky expression on his face, or the cockiness in his voice when he spoke.

“Going somewhere, doll?”

He smirked as Moira stepped closer. She tapped the crop on her leg and ran her fingers down his chest. “Do you know what the difference between a Dom and a cocky son of a bitch is?”

He smirked, looking to the side at his friend while her fingers dipped into his pants. His finger reached out to touch her chin. “What’s that?”

Moira yanked his briefs up tight, twisting her grip, wiping the grin off his face as the front-wedgie twisted his balls. “The Dom doesn’t have to be cocky,” she said, leaning in closer, and twisting his briefs tighter. “Now get out of my way before I rip your balls off and shove them down your throat.”

She released him with a hard push, sending him reeling back into the crowd. Moira smirked as someone reprimanded him as they passed.

“Are you fucking kidding me, bro? You don’t touch the lady Dommes. Ever.”

The rest of the crowd cleared with much less effort on her part, until there was no one left, only a dark corner.

Moira glanced back. “Now what?”

Adrian smirked, lifting his silver-tipped cane to point back in front of her. She turned again, staring at the darkness, and then gasped.

Out of the shadows stepped one of the tallest men she’d ever met. He wore a top hat and tails, but it was the half-skull mask that covered his ebony skin that gave her a turn. A woman stepped up beside him, a petite blonde wearing a similar mask and a deep purple corset that emphasized all her curves.

The music stilled as the pair stepped past them and a voice came over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Baron Samedi and Maman Brigitte!”

Silence reigned for a heartbeat before the man let out a deep, raucous laugh that sent the entire club into an uproar. The Baron shouted, “Let’s have some fucking music!” He laughed again and the music restarted, returning the club to its previous fever.

The strange couple turned back to them with wicked smiles. “That was quite the show you put on for us out there, Maîtresse. Good to remind the vulgaire where they stand, every now and again.”

Adrian stepped up next to Moira. “Mon ange noir, allow me to introduce Maître Obadiah Toussaint and his Marcelle. They run La Danse Macabre as voodoo’s Baron Samedi and Maman Brigitte.”

“Enchanté, Maîtresse Ange Noir.” Toussaint reached out and took Moira’s hand, lifting it to his lips. His dark eyes flashed inside his mask. “I have been asking Maître Lacroix to bring you for some time now. I hope you enjoy our little club.”