I don’t live here anymore, but I use my key to open the front door; it’s still my family home.
“If you’re a burglar, there’s nothing to steal!” a voice hollers out from the kitchen.
“Burglars don’t use front door keys, Pops, I’ve told you that before.” I hear Knox and Drake chuckle. “This way, Memphis.”
I lead him into the kitchen. “Pops, this is Memphis.”
Memphis is trembling like a leaf as my dad looks at him with a soft smile and steps up to us. “Hi, Memphis, you hungry?”
He shakes his head. “No, thank you, sir. Royal bought me a burger.” The tremor is in his voice too.
“My name’s Robin, or Pops, as this bunch of reprobates decided to call me. It’s great to have you here with us.”
I reach out to steady Memphis as the reality hits him—he’s here and he’s safe. “I don’t know what to do.”
“First, you let me hug you, and we’ll take the rest from there.” Pops opens his arms, and Memphis drops his bag and let Pops hug him. I knew from past experience that with that one hug, Memphis would drop his guard and let his fear drift away.
I look over at my Dad. He’s smiling at me and gives me a nod. He’s proud of me.
Memphis ends up staying with my parents until he’s eighteen.
We haven’t seen him since.
“Happy retirement, Dad!” I pull him in for a hug, and he begrudgingly accepts it.
“I’m too young to retire. This is all your Pops’ fault,” he grumbles. I know he doesn’t really mean it. He’s looking forward to spending time at home, being with Pops; they’ve even talked of doing some travelling.
“You’re going to love it, and you know Knox’s got this covered. And we’re still here to help too.” I gesture around the gym, because of course, he wanted his party here. “Have you seen how many of the kids you’ve fostered are here. They all owe so much to you both, just as I do. I don’t think I can ever repay you. You gave me the world.”
“Stop with all the mushy stuff, you can go tell that shit to your Pops. Where is he?”
“I don’t know if I’m right, but I have a feeling he’s looking for Memphis.” The kid just disappeared one day. Everything had gone well with him. He worked hard at school and got great A level results. He got into university and never came back. It was a shock to all of us. I think he never intended to stay past the firstnight, but the love and kindness in that house kept him there. But only until he was old enough to leave.
“He won’t show. It’s been too long to just walk back in. He’ll be what, twenty-four, twenty-five now? And he could be anywhere in the world. I wish him well and hope he’s successful in his life, but I don’t think he wants to be reminded of his life in this town.”
I nod, but before I can reply, Dad is called away to talk to his other guests. We were all hurt by Memphis. I thought he would have told me of his plans. We were close, or so I thought. I’ve got over it now, and he’s barely in my thoughts.
Saint wanders up to me and slings his arm over my shoulder. “You ready to go?”
The cake has been cut, the speeches over with. Our dads will be happy talking to their friends and don’t need us here anymore. “Yep. I need to blow off some steam.”
“Bound?” he asks as if there’s anywhere else I want to go at eleven-thirty at night. His arm is wrapped around Noah’s shoulders.
I’ve got smart black trousers and a black silk shirt on; I don’t need to change. I have a harness in my car I can add when I get to the club. Saint is similarly dressed and already has a swagger in his step, knowing how much it turns his boy on. Our mutual desire to dominate grew when we reached eighteen, and joining Bound gave us the means to learn and develop our skill.
Submitting before I learnt to be a Dom taught me so much and, more importantly, showed me that I’m not a pain junkie. I like a little pain—and like to spank—and sometimes flog a high round arse, but I’m a caregiver. I like to pamper and nurture my boy; age play is a huge turn on for me. I’m sure to find a boy willing to play.
We take my car. Saint is already stripping off his shirt to put his harness on. His kink is different than mine. He’s a lotmore leather and bondage, and he’s a master with a whip, cane, and paddle. But he has Noah, and that’s their story, not mine.
I pull up in the car park and see that it’s looking full tonight. I feel the thrill of the game building in me as I grab my harness. Fifteen years of working out has my body in perfect condition. I’m not a gym rat; I’m fitness model build. And have had a few photoshoots for magazines, mainly to do with the gym, but that sort of life isn’t for me. I love going to the gym and going to my parents for dinner on Sundays. I love family life, which may be the calling behind my Daddy lifestyle.
I’m glad for the warm summer evening when I get out of the car, but I know the club will be hot, full of sweaty men and the scent of sex in the air. The sound of leather hitting skin, of cries of pleasure and pain. The divide between the two is so narrow and so much fun to explore.
“Evening, Charlie.” I show my membership card, even though we’re both well known here. Rules are rules.
“Good to see you, Royal, and you, Saint. Have a fun evening.”
“We sure will.” Saint takes his card back and takes hold of Noah’s hand. We walk up the stairs, past the first-floor nightclub, up to the next level. The restricted zone, not available to the clubbers below without the higher level of membership.
