The Denim Dom

Chapter Four

Back home, Shayla grabbed a shower, a cup of hot herbal tea, and her notebook and pen. With her headphones plugged into the voice recorder, she played back their dinner conversation while jotting down information and making notes on points she wanted to hit for both further research and including in the article.

Despite what she’d hoped, she wouldn’t be able to get away with only writing two or three articles on the topic. No way could she do it justice without shortchanging either the subject or the people kind enough to speak to her about it.

Already she spotted several different potential topics. The dynamics and differences between Dominants and submissives, or submissives versus slaves versus bottoms, Tops and sadists and masochists and rope bunnies and…

She hit pause on the recorder, pulled off her glasses, and rubbed her eyes. Just those topics alone could easily take up a couple of articles each to truly do them justice.

Then there were the different types of play. No way that could be covered in one article without glossing over everything and basically regurgitating what showed up on Wikipedia.

She thought for a moment. Profile a person or couple and discuss salient topics? was added to her growing list of bullet points.

Still, nothing she’d discovered gave her an answer to her own burning question.

Maybe I’ll never really know why.

Hell, when she’d angrily confronted him the second time, even James couldn’t give her a satisfactory answer. He’d begged for forgiveness, begged her not to leave him.

She’d waited to confront him until after she’d spent the afternoon alternating between throwing up in the bathroom, following his online trail through the different websites, and on the phone with various credit card companies after pulling an online credit report on herself and discovering the full extent of his treachery.

Until after she’d been armed with the truth.

Until after there was no way he could gaslight or sweet-talk his way out of it.

Okay, yes, so mailing copies of everything to his parents had been a tad on the over-the-line side of crazy, but after the shit James put her through, he should count himself lucky she hadn’t mailed copies, along with a report of the criminal fraud he perpetrated, to his boss as well.

It would have cost him his job. Had she decided to press charges, he’d be looking at jail time.

She’d been able to reclaim most of the deposits for the wedding, which gave her nearly three thousand dollars she applied to paying for her move. James promised to one day reimburse her in full.

Not that she would hold her breath. Although before she departed for Florida, he had left her a check for five hundred at the apartment.

No note enclosed.

Asshat.

With a sigh, she hit play and resumed listening.

Thursday morning didn’t start well. Shayla startled awake on the couch at six o’clock, with a crick in her neck and the headphones still on after having fallen asleep listening to the interview.

“Shoot.” She sat up and tried to ease the pain in her neck. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the couch.

After briefly considering going to bed to sleep for another hour, she opted to put coffee on and head out for an early walk. Her uneasy dreams still swirled along the perimeters of her brain, images of naked women kneeling at the feet of hunky guys, bullwhips coiled in the men’s hands. Of darkly lit dungeons and screams of pain and pleasure.

What the hell was I thinking taking this assignment?

She pulled on shorts and sneakers and with the sun beginning to lighten the eastern horizon, she left her apartment for the humid, cool Sarasota morning.

Part of her wondered what else she’d discover on this journey.

What if I never find the answers I’m looking for?

Everything Loren and Ross talked about the night before came full circle to the fact that the people involved with each other in healthy dynamics had trust and communication as a foundation. Different levels of trust, sure, depending on what activities they were engaged in.

How do I ever learn to trust anyone again?

She’d trusted James. Loved him. Had been ready to spend the rest of her life with him.

It was nearly seven by the time she returned to her apartment, sweating and breathing heavily after jogging all the way home.

It had been the only way to get the nagging, unanswered questions out of her brain for a little while.

“You’re still looking a tad vexated,” Bill observed upon her walking into the break room to refill her coffee.

Shayla ducked around him. “I’m fine,” she mumbled.

They were alone in the break room. It surprised her when she heard the door close. Turning, she saw he stood against it. “If this assignment is too much for you,” he softly said, “I don’t have a problem reassigning it.”

She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms in front of her. “No. I want to do it.” She reached up and nudged her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

His arched eyebrow spoke his disbelief.

“Seriously,” she said as she turned to fill her mug. “I…” She took a deep breath to buy herself a second or two. “I’m just trying to digest everything is all. I’ll be fine.”

When she turned back to him, he slowly nodded. “Okay. But if you find it isn’t, I want to know about it. I’d rather you hand it off than cause yourself distress.”

“Understood.”

With a nod he opened the door and left. A moment later she returned to her desk and checked her e-mail, where she found a note from Loren.

Hope we didn’t scare you off last night. If you’d like, I can come to the Submission 101 class with you. We’ll be there on Saturday anyway for the dungeon play following the class. Ross said he’d be happy to sponsor you so you can attend the night play session, and we can introduce you around. That way, we can answer any questions you might have about what you see there.

Shayla drummed her fingers on her desk for a few minutes as she reread the note before replying.

Sure, that sounds great. I appreciate it. I’ll see you there.

Within minutes, she had a reply.

We’re meeting friends for dinner between the end of class and when the dungeon session starts. You’re welcomed to join us. They’re all in the lifestyle.

More finger drumming.

Why am I hesitating? This is my fricking job. She needed to nut up and do it.

She replied. Thanks. Sounds good. Any special dress code for Saturday night?

Loren must have been sitting at her computer. Her reply arrived less than five minutes later.

Nope. Jeans, comfortable shoes, and a blouse are fine. Just no flip-flips or anything like that. Or feel free to dress up, if you want. Everyone will be street-legal for the restaurant anyway. Some people change clothes once they get to the club before they play if they aren’t coming straight from home.

Shayla waited a little while to reply, to clear out some of her other e-mail first.

Thanks. I’ll see you on Saturday.

She paged through notes she’d made the night before.

Now I just have to keep myself from chickening out before Saturday afternoon.

Loren squealed and held out her phone so Leah and Tilly could both read the e-mail on the screen. Leah held it steady, an ear-to-ear grin filling her face. The three of them were at their weekly Thursday morning girls-only breakfast meet-up, before they went to get their nails done.

“You realize Seth and Ross will beat us in a bad way if they realize we’re ambushing Tony, don’t you?” Leah commented as she released Loren’s hands.

Tilly let out a snort. “You two have to worry about that. I don’t.” She speared a piece of sausage and forked it into her mouth. “That’s one of the benefits of being a switch. I keep telling you girls you need to come over to the Dominant dark side. We have fantastic cookies.”

Loren let out a snort. “I’ve seen you ‘yes, Sir’ Landry more than once.” She poked her friend in the shoulder. “And that wasn’t Cris strapped down to a bench last weekend at the club, either. How’s your ass, by the way?”

Leah laughed as Tilly turned pink. “Don’t pick on her,” Leah said. “We’re all a work in progress.”

Loren laid her phone down. She picked up her fork and bit back the joking reply she’d almost casually let fly. About Tilly being a lucky bitch and having two guys.

Leah, while healthy and happy with her husband and Master, Seth, was barely two years out from having lost her first husband, Master, and Seth’s best friend, Kaden, to cancer. A long, excruciating process that left Leah grief-stricken. For a while, she, too, had two men of her own. The triad she’d longed for for years.

Until they lost Kaden.

“How do we handle things if Valerie is there Saturday?” Loren asked instead.

Leah considered it. “Well, she usually doesn’t come until after nine, so we’d already be back from dinner by then. Unless or until she shows up, I won’t know if we need to run interference or not.”

“You can always set her up to play with Landry,” Tilly offered.

Leah considered it. “That’s a good idea. You don’t mind?”

Tilly arched an eyebrow at her friend and pulled her long, auburn hair back away from her face. “Seriously? Landry’s always in the mood to give out a beating. Better her ass than mine,” she added.

Loren was glad Tilly had let her hair grow long again. For several years after Cris had left her, she’d cut it super short as well as had it dyed red, a look that harshened her features and added years to her appearance. Upon Landry popping up in her life almost three years earlier with Cris in tow, Tilly had once again learned how to enjoy life.

Especially since Landry was himself now cancer-free.

“We should dub this ‘Operation Trap Tony,’” Loren joked.

“Or ‘Operation Dom Date,’” Tilly added.

Leah pointed her fork at her friends. “The man needs a submissive. I’ve seen him at the club, the way he watches scenes. The look he gets. He’s lonely.”

“He’s a DM,” Tilly quipped. “He’s supposed to pay attention to scenes. It’s his job.”

“No,” Leah insisted with a firm shake of her head. “You don’t understand. He gets this sad look in his eyes. He didn’t used to have that look.”

“What happened with that last girl he dated?” Tilly asked. “I thought you said they hit it off well. Wasn’t she his submissive?”

Leah let out a snort. “They did. She hit it off too well. She gave him an ultimatum that she wanted a commitment from him, or she was gone.”

Tilly winced. “Yowch. Never demand a Dom do anything.”

“It was more than that. It wasn’t a situation where he dumped her on principles or anything. She just wanted more of a relationship than he was ready to give. And she was really clingy. He’s not into clingy. He wants someone independent, who’s their own person.”

“You know,” Tilly said, “not to piss on this party or anything, but we don’t know that they’ll hit it off, or that she’s even looking for a relationship. Especially a BDSM one. She might be vanilla.”

Loren triumphantly smiled at them. “I’d be willing to bet you’re wrong. I know for a fact that she’s single because I asked her. And you didn’t see the way she looked last night while we were talking. She wasn’t scared off, and she didn’t appear judgmental, either.”

“She’s writing an article, Loren,” Tilly said. “It’s her job.”

“I’m just saying, the longer we talked, the more she had that little gleam in her eye.” She took a bite of pancakes. “And all it takes is a tiny spark to start a forest fire.”

Tony felt his personal phone vibrate in his pocket during his pre-lunch meeting. He glanced at it, half expecting to see a text from Leah. It was about this time every week she started firming up weekend plans for their tight little kinky social group.

Instead, he discovered it was a series of texts from Loren. We’re bringing a newbie to dinner and the club. She’s taking the Subbie class Saturday, and your whip class and the bondage class next week. Reporter. I’m sitting in with her Saturday. Can you make dinner and talk with her for her research?

He started to reply, then decided to wait and tucked the phone back into his pocket.

His first instinct was to say no. Then again, if the woman was going to the club with everyone after dinner, babysitting a reporter would be the perfect excuse to avoid play with Valerie if she showed up.

That sounds like a plan.

He waited until lunch to respond to Loren. Sure. No problem. Meet at the club and ride to dinner together?

He barely had time to get the phone back into his pocket when it vibrated again. Damn, Loren must be sitting on the thing.

He checked. Sure enough, it was from Loren. Sounds great! Class ends 6:30. CU there!

He stared at the message for a minute. It wouldn’t be the first reporter he’d talked to. Ever since Fifty Shades of Grey hit the bestseller list, it seemed reporters were crawling out of the woodwork to get soundbites about the lifestyle. Since he taught classes at the dungeon, he didn’t mind talking to reporters as long as they didn’t name him or take his picture.

Then it hit him that today was Thursday. Leah always got together on Thursdays with Tilly and Loren.

I wonder if I should be suspicious.

He discarded the notion. Leah wouldn’t try to set him up with someone on a club night when another friend she’d already tried to set him up with would be there.

Would she?

He called Ross. If anyone knew what was going on, he would.

Or Ross could get the truth out of Loren for Tony.

“Hey, what’s up?” Ross said by way of greeting.

“I just had a text from Loren. So a reporter’s coming to dinner with us on Saturday?”

“Yeah, we met with her last night. She’s doing an in-depth series on the lifestyle for Sunshine Attitude Magazine. Nice girl. She’s even going to take a few classes.”

Tony immediately felt his guard drop. Ross would have outright warned him if it was another fix-up attempt. Unlike Seth, Ross would rein in Loren’s matchmaking attempts. “Okay. I was just curious who she was.”

“We spent close to three hours talking last night. I get the impression she’s determined to do a fair series and not sensationalize the crap out of it. Oh, hey, while I’ve got you on the phone, I told her I’d hook her up with people who could answer her questions. Mind if I forward your name and e-mail to her? She’s going to be in your whip class next weekend.”

“Sure, no problem. What’s her name again?”

“Shayla…” He paused. “Hold on, let me look.” He was only gone a second. “Sorry, had to bring up my e-mail. Shayla Pierce. Why?”

“Nothing, just curious. Thanks. See you Saturday.” He ended the call and spun his chair around to his desk terminal. It took him less than thirty seconds to find the magazine’s website. He’d heard of them, even bought a copy or two when an issue caught his eye in the store, but he hadn’t explored their website before.

Clicking on the Staff link, he saw there were pictures of everyone, their names and e-mail addresses conveniently arranged in alphabetical order. Most of the shots were torso up, semi-candid shots as opposed to formal mugs, taken while the person sat at their desk. Halfway down the page, he stopped scrolling when he found her.

Straight brown hair to her shoulders and what appeared to be hazel eyes behind her glasses. Nothing overly remarkable, except for her smile and the way she held her arms close to her, hands clasped in her lap, as if guarding herself.

Her smile looked tentative, cautious, and didn’t even begin to touch her eyes. She was cute. Could even be called beautiful if it wasn’t for whatever it was she was holding back behind that sad smile.

He sat back and studied the picture, intrigued. He managed over forty people in his section of the company’s IT division. In his nearly twelve years with the company, in addition to his years of experience in the BDSM lifestyle, he’d grown adept at reading faces and nonverbal cues.

He also saw that she didn’t wear any rings on either hand.

Hmm.

Noting the time, he shut down the webpage and got back to work, soon forgetting about their conversation once absorbed in his daily activities.

Shayla ate alone in the conference room again. Instead of a book to read she had her notebook and pen, sat with her headphones plugged into her digital voice recorder, and listened to more of the previous evening’s conversation. That was why she jumped, startled, when someone touched her shoulder.

Bill Melling looked apologetic. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, but you didn’t hear me when I called to you.”

She paused the recorder. “It’s okay. What’s up?”

He nodded toward her lunch. “You all set? Or would you like us to bring you anything?”

She pushed her glasses up. “I’m okay, thanks.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else. Instead, he nodded and left without another word.

She’d decided to start her series of articles with an introductory article about her own experience at the class and dungeon on Saturday. She would include very basic information about BDSM. The audience would learn right along with her.

That sounds like a plan.

She was still mulling said plan over when Kimberly popped into the conference room on her way back from lunch. “You still alive in here?”

Shayla took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “If brain-dead is considered alive, then sure.”

Kimberly nodded toward the notebook. “Already got a lot of info, huh?”

“More than I ever wanted to know.”

“I know what you mean,” Kimberly said. “I read that book, you know, the Fifty Shades one?” She shrugged. “I don’t get it. I mean, I get people want to be kinky. Heck, I’m not exactly tame in the bedroom myself. But I just don’t get the whole slave thing. It’s not me.”

“Me either.” She put her glasses back on. “I mean, what I’ve learned so far is not gelling with what I thought it was. That means there are a lot of people out there like me, who have no clue what BDSM really is about. So I’m glad I get a chance to write a series of articles that will be educational.”

Kimberly snorted. “If sex ed had been this much fun in high school, I might have actually enjoyed it and learned something.”

“You’ve got that right.”

Kimberly left with a wave. Shayla gathered her things to return to her desk. There might have been other things I wouldn’t have suffered through, either. Like giving James a second chance.