Secrets Remembered (5 page)

She was like a terrier with a rat.

“As I said, deciding if I can sub. And finding out what I like.” All of a sudden Ailsa realized that was true. Okay, her job was paramount, but the more she saw and heard, the more she wanted—no needed—to discover what was for her. “Look, Connie, I’ll be honest.”
Or as honest as I dare.
“Your secret, if that’s what it is, is safe with me. If none of you are doing anything wrong, why would I be here to threaten you?”

Connie didn’t say anything, then, slowly, she shrugged. “Because something screwy is going on. Nothing to do with the Doms or subs as far as I know. And it’s not up to me to say any more. But maybe, once you’re ensconced more comfortably, mind you if you go for a flogging maybe comfortably is not the word, you’ll find out.”

So it seemed Connie wasn’t convinced but would keep her counsel for a while.

“And before you ask,” Connie said. “I’m here because I
am
a sub, and hopefully Ross will be my Dom. He had a bad session with some eejit called Arperony… Holy hell, are you here because of her?”

The name meant nothing. Ailsa smiled. “Not unless she’s who I have to show I can sub. So I need to shower?”

Connie looked at the clock. “Yep and fast. Do you have suitable clothing?”

Ailsa shook her head. “Only what I’m wearing.”

Connie gave her a quick encompassing glance. “No, here, this will do for now.” She handed two tiny garments to Ailsa who took them and looked at them doubtfully. Once on they wouldn’t leave much to the imagination.

“God almighty, this doesn’t leave me much covered. Ah, well, in for a penny…”

Connie snickered. Evidently Ailsa’s outburst had worked in her favor.

“Okay, I’ll go with what you say for now, but…”

Connie didn’t finish her sentence. Ailsa decided to meet her halfway.

“As long as I’m not endangering you or your friends. If I ever think that, I’ll tell you. Fair enough?”

“It will have to be, I guess. Now, please shower, dry and dress. No bra, just the top and skirt.”

“And pants,” Ailsa said in a voice that didn’t encourage arguments. “That’s non-negotiable.” Even if they were department store finest. Her nice silky Janet Reger underwear wasn’t worn on a stake-out.

“Whatever. You can argue the toss over that with Aidan. Just get a move on. I don’t want my arse paddled because of you.”

So he’s called Aidan. Nice name, it suits him.
Ailsa thought about the man as she did as she was asked. Was she going to see what transpired or would she wuss out? If she did she could kiss goodbye to any chance of getting to know him as well as getting inside Diomhair legitimately.

As she thought, the emerald green, thin-strapped top barely covered her breasts, and the darker hued skirt should be called a scarf, or a pelmet. A narrow one. However, she reckoned she had best not protest.

“Um, will I do?” she asked Connie, who had changed into a tiny red leather dress that clung lovingly to her curves.

Connie looked her up and down. “Turn round.”

Ailsa did as she’d been asked.

“I guess.” Connie didn’t sound too sure.

Ailsa spun back again. “What do you mean you guess?”

“Well, Ma…er, Ailsa, with due respect. A sub doesn’t usually look as if she’s going to have her wisdom teeth pulled out with pliers. Unless she knows she’s due punishment, which I guess you’re not. You look about as comfortable as a Ranger fan in the Celtic stand at Celtic Park.” Connie used a worst case football match scenario for comparison. “And you wonder why I have my reservations.”

Put like that, Ailsa didn’t.

Ailsa shrugged and bit her lip. “Okay, what I know could be written on a pin head and there’d still be space for the alphabet. All my knowledge is from hot erotic romances. So tell me what I need to know.”

Five minutes later, her head was reeling and she was damned sure she wouldn’t remember half of what Connie had told her. The one thing she did remember was respect and honesty. Red, yellow and green traffic lights for what happened, and if in doubt, tack Sir onto every sentence.

“Honestly, safety is taken very seriously here. SSC is the mantra, and everyone, Dom and sub alike, is vetted and vetted again,” Connie told Ailsa as she tied her hair into a tight bun.

That was where Ailsa could call them out if she wanted to. However, she reasoned uneasily, that was her fault, not theirs.

“We’re all very friendly and Doms or subs are open to chat and answer questions,” Connie said as Ailsa followed her out of the room and along the corridor. “Well, Doms in the context of if you have permission. You’ll soon learn all the rules and regs if you want to. It’s a fantastic place. If you do decide to play, whatever way, then you’ll soon learn that.”

Ailsa had her doubts. If she did decide to play, she reckoned her inexperience would call her out, and there would be hell to pay. But she might as well see how far she could get and discover what she liked before that time was on her. Then when she was back on the beat on a Saturday afternoon, dodging spit and post-match sick, she could remember what might have been.

Chapter Four

“Something’s fishy.” Aidan checked his wax and equipment was as it should be, took off his shirt and put it into a tall, narrow cupboard in the corner of the room. He wasn’t going to change into fresh leathers, not now, but clean, tight, midnight blue denims should work. Why he’d switched, he had no idea. To stave off disappointment maybe? Whoever Ailsa was, he thought his attire would be the last thing she’d worry about. “Either she’s not who she says she is, or someone sure hasn’t gone over the basics properly. I pushed as far as I could without going over the limits, and she just couldn’t make up her mind how to play it. I do think she’s a sub, but she doesn’t know it. But is she the sub Jeff was expecting? That’s the question. She just doesn’t fit what I’d expect of someone Jeff’s training.”

“What?” Ross said, as he followed Aidan’s example, clothes wise, and double-checked the equipment with Aidan. Surprise tinged his tone. “If she’s not who Jeff was expecting, who the hell is she and how did she get in here?”

“That’s what I want to find out.” Aidan opened a cupboard and got out some cloths and a fire blanket. “She says she wants wax play, so I’ll give her that. Mind you, there are a few more forms for her to fill in first.”

“There are?”

Ross sounded surprised, which Aidan could understand.

“There are now, or there will be in three minutes. If they get in here before I’m back, go over the protocol or something please. I’m off to be creative with the printer.” He left the room at a run and within a few seconds was typing on the computer.

Three minutes later, Aidan was satisfied. The forms might not be drawn up by a lawyer, but if she signed them she’d have no reason to say she was forced or did anything against her own free will. It may well be overkill, but Aidan knew the benefit of leaving nothing to chance.

He was back in his chosen dungeon before Connie and Ailsa reappeared.

Aidan subjected Ailsa to a thorough inspection. Her eyes flashed, just once, before she looked toward the floor. In the tiny skirt and top she had on, she looked about as comfortable as his mum at a teen pop concert, or the proverbial nun in a whorehouse. He’d love to be able to read her thoughts.

“Well, pet? Ready?”

Ailsa lifted her head and he watched the skin across her ripple and tighten, as she swallowed before she blinked and cleared her throat.

“Yes, Sir.” Ailsa ran her hands over the material that clung to her hips and tugged on the hem. Aidan hid his smile. He wondered what she’d say if he told her to take it off? He rather thought if he valued his balls, Dom/sub or not, he wouldn’t make any demand along those lines in a hurry. One day, though, he’d so love to see her bare and decorated with his waxy patterns. For now he’d be satisfied to see if she accepted his ministrations or cried red and ran.

“Then shall we start?” He didn’t miss the way she looked at the table where he’d set his candles, and her eyes widened.

“Ye…es, Sir. What happens?”

Beside her, Connie stiffened and stifled a gasp. Aidan hid his grin once more. This was going to be fun.

“Firstly we’ll run through the safety procedure, then you sign the disclaimer and we’ll get started.”

Competently he checked that she knew what she was to expect, made sure she read the new contract he’d worked out not long before, signed it, and watched as both he and Ross countersigned.

“I work in stages,” he said as he took her hand and led her to a long waist-high bed, with the head higher than the base. “Stretch out on your back, and put your wrists and ankles next to the ties.”

Ailsa stopped walking and he looked down at her. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and the cluster of blonde curls swung around her skull like tight waves. “I’m calling red. No ties.” She tugged on his hand, and Aidan held on tighter.

“Steady, pet. Now tell me what’s wrong.” He put his hand under her chin and tilted her head so she looked at him face on.

“No ties. I can’t.”

“So why isn’t that on your list of hard limits?” She didn’t answer and Aidan continued. “It’s for your safety, pet. Otherwise if you rear up or jerk suddenly it could cause an accident. Wax is hot, and if it isn’t used appropriately, it could burn or scar you. I want you to have the burn in a good way, feel the sting, embrace the pain and see the evidence on your skin. However, it isn’t my intention to leave a lasting reminder. Do you understand?”

She was as pale as the lace curtain that used to hang at his granny’s window, and she swayed a little, just like they had in the breeze. Aidan held her chin tight and used his other hand to rhythmically stroke her back from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine. He didn’t speak, glad that Ross had summoned Connie to his side without a word, and the sub was sitting quietly at Ross’ feet.

Under his hand, Ailsa shivered.

“Well? I do expect an answer, pet, even if it’s just no, Sir.”

“I understand your reasoning, but I’m not sure I can do it. And as for hard limits, I, er, haven’t really thought of them.”

Ross cleared his throat, and Aidan sent him a warning look. He saw ‘Warning, not the sub you expected’ written in big imaginary letters over Ailsa’s head. Obviously Ross saw the same thing.

“Well, you need to. For now we’ll just say, if you want to continue, for your own well-being, you need to be unable to move and perhaps cause yourself an injury. And before you argue…”

Ailsa shut her mouth.

“Good girl. Before you argue, I am not interested what happens elsewhere. This is how we do it here. So restraints or go.” Aidan spoke in a no nonsense, ‘that’s my decision and you can like it or lump it’ manner. He watched her closely, sensing her inner struggle. He could almost see her thoughts flow out of her. Eventually, just as Aidan thought he might have to prompt her, Ailsa gave a long sigh, and looked up at him.

“I can cry red and it stops?”

“Immediately.”

She bit her lip. “Then, okay, yes, I’ll try.”

Talk about sounding as if she’s doing
me a favor. Maybe it’s as well she’s not a true sub. She’d not last long.

He raised one eyebrow and she blushed.

“Sir.”

The color flowed upward from her chest, and it did make Aidan think about how far down her body it started. One day he hoped he’d find out.

Hold it, I’m getting a hell of a lot too interested in someone who might be working for Dad. Pull back before I get burned, and not with the candle wax either.
However, Aidan knew fine well he was going to ignore his own advice and see what transpired.

Aidan stood back and let her make her own way to the bed. She needed to know this was all her own doing. That it was her choice and what
she
wanted, not what she thought someone else wanted for her.

Ailsa stood on tiptoe and scrambled onto the hard mattress. It was set at a height for the Dom to work easily and gave no quarter to a five-foot-not-much-else sub. She used one hand to tug at the hem of her skirt once more. Aidan got a very brief glance of something red and cotton, before she stretched out—not very elegantly—on the bed. All of a sudden, plain red cotton held a fascination for him. He had to admit elegance and holding your clothes where you wanted them didn’t go hand in hand.

Ailsa wriggled and pulled her top over her middle, before she put her hands and feet where Aidan had directed. He chose to ignore her unease. After all, he had reiterated the need to vocalize and cry red if necessary. Instead he studied her face until she looked away. Aidan tugged on one blonde curl of hair.

“Look at me.” To his pleasure, she did so immediately. “Color, pet?”

Alisa ran her tongue over her lips. Such a small and, he reckoned to her, unconsciously sexy and arousing action. To him it was cock-twitching, dick-hardening, cum-inducing, out-and-out eroticism. His skin tingled, and the hairs on his arms stood on edge.

“Green, Sir.”

He nodded, and leaned toward her to whisper in her ear, “You can red at any time. If you’re worried, cry yellow. Remember, you’re in charge.”

Her eyes opened wide and the blue irises seemed to grow even bigger.

“Me?”

Yeah, she really does know jack shit.
Aidan bit back the impatient retort he felt like giving. “You. You can make me stop at any time. Understand?” He waited until she replied in the affirmative. “Now, as this is really only a taster, I’ll be gentle and talk you through it. Ross and Connie will be in the room, for extra protection for both of us.”

Alisa began to shake her head.

Aidan put his hand on her cheek. “Yes. We do not play without back-up. Believe me, once I start you’ll be too absorbed in the experience to know if the cast of every West End musical performed in front of you.”

Ailsa gave a shaky laugh. “Now that would depend who was saying ‘no one puts Baby in a corner’.”

She took a very deep breath. Her chest swelled and Aidan wondered if her breasts would pop over the top of the vest. Connie had interpreted his demands to the letter and the vest was incredibly low and tight.