“You don’t owe me any answers, but you might have a conversation with yourself about where you want things to go before you decide to follow through on those plans.”
Before Tuesday could respond, her grandmother stood. “The chicken pot pie has had plenty of time to rest, and I didn’t make it to sit on the counter.”
Tuesday followed her inside, and neither of them said anything else about the complications Knife might bring to Tuesday’s life, because her grandmother had said all she felt needed to be voiced.
And now it was up to Tuesday to figure things out. If she asked for advice, her grandmother might give it, or she might ask questions to help Tuesday figure it out.
But Tuesday wasn’t going to walk away from the long scene Knife had promised.
- - -?- - -
Knife walked across the road from the restaurant to the clubhouse and breathed in the night air. The day had been good, working the bar with Dawg and handling the Valentine’s Day crowd.
And now the clubhouse was filled with all the single bikers. The ones not on dates with their ol’ladies — with a few exceptions. Angelica was out of town doing some kind of dam inventory. She was an engineer for TVA, and they wanted her to put eyeballs on every dam they owned for some reason. That meant Bash was here without her.
And Razor had taken Matty out the night before for their big date, so he could be at the clubhouse tonight. As their newest enforcer, he’d drawn the short straw, and both Gonzoand Bubbles were doing the whole Valentine’s thing with their ol’ladies.
Knife got a beer and sat on a sofa to watch Matty and Fist race motorcycles on the big-screen, but then turned when one of the sweetbutts went to her knees before Dawg — and he just stared at her.
Mostly, sweetbutts wait until someone requests them. They all want Dawg though, so sometimes one will get brave and make a silent offer.
It took Dawg a good thirty seconds to decide how to respond.
“Seems Backdoor’s brown-eye is feeling neglected, and I’m thinking we need a contest.”
He stood and stepped to her side, looked around the room, and then nudged Backdoor’s foot with his boot. “Lean over the pool table.” He looked up. “Freckles, Hot Pocket. Join her.”
“You can’t have Chiquita,” Viper said, sitting on another sofa with the sweetbutt lying sideways, his dick in her mouth, her head completely still.
“Kat either,” Paco said, legs spread, leaned back in a chair with his eyes closed, Kat on her knees before him, going to town on his dick.
Knife looked to the pool table and his cock pulsed in his pants, suddenly interested.
Two of the three leaned over the pool table were still wearing short skirts. Freckles only wore her insanely high heels and nothing else.
Dawg pulled the skirts up and tucked them into the waistbands, and Knife took physical inventory.
Freckles’ breathing had sped in anticipation. Hot Pocket seemed totally chill. Backdoor had her head up, lookingaround. This was performative for her, and she wanted to know who was watching.
“Who wants to play?” Dawg asked. “I’m in the mood to wield a cane.”
“Belt,” Bash said, and he looked at Knife. “We need you with the horsewhip.”
“Damned straight we do,” Razor said, and looked at Matty. “Run downstairs and get my tawse, boy.”
Matty stood and left without comment, leaving the game controller on the side table. No complaining about losing the game because he had to abandon it. Good submissives are rare, and Razor had found a gem.
The door to the back of the clubhouse closed behind Matty, no one else spoke up, and Dawg said, “Belt first, then cane, horsewhip, tawse. Bash first. Each girl gets three strikes. Go down the line, then I’ll give each three. First to safeword…”
When he paused, Razor said, “We need a show, followed by a train. Knife can do his shibari thing, string the loser up so we can all fuck her the rest of the night.”
“Works for me,” Bash said. “Winner gets Dawg?”
Dawg smiled. “It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”
Bash swings the belt like he means it, every time. The first crack was loud and vicious, as were the two that followed. One step forward, and he hit the next girl three times while the marks on the first ass went from crimson to deep, deep red.
The first two flinched and made soft noises, but Backdoor was last, and she screamed as if she’d never taken a belt before in her life — which was a lie.
