“Hm.” Vic reached into the back pocket of his pants and pulled out a leather card holder. He took a card out and passed it to Judge. “I’m sure you’re an adequate Dom, but be an excellent one. This contact info is for a man by the name of Dr. Claude Lupo. He runs BDSM training courses once a week for those who need a few extra lessons on how to be a Dom or a sub. Safety is a big focus. If you’re interested.”
Judge cringed and tucked the card in his pocket. I hated how embarrassed he was, but I could see Vic’s point. I didn’t know much about BDSM, but I trusted Judge. He’d given me a safeword and had never done anything I didn’t want, so I couldn’t let Vic treat him like a child.
“Judge is the perfect Dom.” I raised my chin and grabbed Judge’s hand, sliding my fingers through his. “I’ve lived almost twice as many years as him, and trust me when I tell you he’s the best man I’ve met. To answer your question, yes, I am very okay withmyDom buying me a membership to your club.”
The corner of Vic’s mouth quirked. He stepped away and slid the card holder back into his pants. “Gentlemen, have a good night. I’ll be in touch about your membership details.” With a wink, he left us alone.
I watched him go. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about Vic yet. While I didn’t have much knowledge about his community, I understood his concern. Everyone came from different worlds, and Judge had no idea what it was like without money; he’d had his parents’ fortune from the moment he was born. But Judge meant well, even if he sometimes came across as spoiled.
“Rookie.” Judge cupped my face, and I returned my attention to him. His mouth curved and his eyes glittered with warmth, even in the semidarkness of the club. “You’re so fucking good, I’m so proud of you.”
Pleasure slithered through me and pooled in my gut, my dick hardening again until I went from a semi to fully erect. His voice sent mind-numbing tingles through me that landed on the head of my dick. Pressure built in my balls. They were reactions I didn’t expect from a simple sentence.
“You’re my Dom, and I belong to you.” I leaned in closer until our noses brushed. The spotlight aimed at the stage grew brighter and a loud voice echoed from the sound system, but my focus was on Judge and the world around us dwindled to nothing. “Sir, you are more of a man than most of the guys I know. Never let anyone make you feel bad for how old you are.” I pressed my forehead to his and closed my eyes. “You make me happy.”
Soft breath tickled my lips, and then his mouth was pressed against mine, hard and fast, and I moaned. I wanted to bathe in his scent and roll around in it and pretend that everyone else could smell him on me and know I was his.
“You deserve a reward for that,” he said against my mouth. “Drink. I reserved a room for eleven.”
I fluttered my eyelashes at him and smiled gently.
“And keep your shoulders square, Rookie. I want them to wish they were me.” His voice turned sharp again, and my spine straightened so quickly I thought I was going to get a stitch in my side.
I grabbed my beer and took a sip, moaning as the cold liquid sloshed down my parched throat. It was hard to resist glancing at him from the corner of my eye as he focused in front of us.
A young man with high heels and a green thong danced on the stage, shaking his perfect, oiled ass in the audience’s direction as he worked a gleaming silver pole. His body was less muscular than mine, but he had enough definition that his sinewy abs moved beautifully with the rest of his body as he rolled his hips. He danced with an elegance I only dreamed of having.
Some of the audience was chanting “Sugar, Sugar, Sugar,” so I assumed that was his name, and every so often he stopped to blow them a kiss as he crawled to the front of the stage on his hands and knees to collect the tips they stuffed into the front of his thong. Each bill earned the audience member an up-close roll of his hips, his hard dick rocking with the movement.
The sharp sound of a whip had the entire room gasping, and Sugar threw a glance over his shoulder as extra-loud footsteps echoed through the speakers. A man walked out from behind one of the curtains dressed in black leather pants and big military boots. His top half was bare, oiled muscles bigger than mine glimmering under the bright lights of the stage. Dark curls framed his face and he had a smile that could tempt the devil.
Someone in the back shouted “Casanova!” and an encouraging whistle came from the crowd before a deafening roar of approval had me wincing.
“What’s happening?” I asked, before I could stop myself. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the stage, though, as the man strode up to Sugar and grabbed his arm, yanking him to his feet. Casanova had a whip in his hand, and he flicked it to the side, the sharp snap making my skin tingle with excitement.
Judge leaned in closer and stared at me in a way that had my toes curling in my sneakers. He clearly had no interest in the show; I was the one who he wanted to watch instead. “Drama, that’s what. That’s Sugar, a popular dancer here. He used to perform with this other guy, Adonis, but something must’ve gone down. Now he’s dancing with this new man, Casanova. Half the crowd loves him, the other half hates him. I don’t know the full story, only what I’ve heard from the regulars. There’s a lot of spanking in these acts. Sugar’s a brat when he wants to be.”
“They’re gorgeous,” I said, then smiled. “But nowhere near as hot as you are.”
He growled and my eyes widened as pleasure shot through me, landing heavy in my balls. He cupped his hand at the back of my neck and dragged me in closer. “You say all the right things, Rookie. It’s nearly eleven. Let’s go.”
He stood and grasped my arm, and I let him help me stand. I hated that our drinks were mostly full, but I wanted to be with Judge. We dodged people while walking toward the side of the room, where a tall Black man stacked with muscles stood guarding a hallway.
“Name?” the man asked, tone bored.
“Judge Daughtler.” Judge tugged me closer and wrapped a hand around my waist. “I booked the custom room.”
The man hummed as he glanced down at the tablet in his hand, scrolling through it. “Everything looks good, second door on the right. The room’s been sanitized and customized to your specifications.”
Judge nodded in thanks as the man shifted to the side. He slid his hand into mine and guided me forward. The hallway was dim, and I felt silly, but I was glad I had him next to me. He led me inside the room and closed the door behind us as I stared around. The walls were black, which was unusual, but aside from that, the space resembled a gym, with a chest press machine, dumbbells, barbells and a bench, yoga mats, and two large exercise balls. Along the wall to our right was a sink and a small counter covered in baskets of wipes, mini bottles of lube, and boxes of condoms.
Judge wrapped his arms around me and kissed my oiled shoulder, and I moaned at the feel of his lips on my skin. “What do you think?”
“I don’t understand the purpose of the room?” I whispered truthfully.
“You’re going to work out for me.” He bit down on my shoulder, and I shuddered. “And I’m going to fuck you while you do, exactly like I want to every time we go to Iron Warriors.”
The thought of all the things we could do had me gasping as I turned in his arms. “Please?” I asked, barely audible over the deep, excited breaths I took. “Please, Sir. I’ll do anything.”
