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Elijah
Black Light West
Tuesday Afternoon, February 2nd
“I have some bad news,” Tyler reported the minute Elijah Keaton walked in the office of Black Light West.
Of course, he does. That’s the only kind of news these days.
“I haven’t taken my coat off yet,” Elijah groused, noticing a new stack of paperwork on his desk that hadn’t been there when he’d left late the night before.
“Sorry, I wasn’t aware your ears didn’t work with your coat on.”
On a good day, Elijah actually appreciated the good-natured bantering he shared with his right-hand man, Tyler Darden.
Today was not that day.
Life wouldn’t be good again until the day after Valentine’s Day. Twelve days. That’s all the time they had left.
I can’t fucking lose to Spencer Cook. Not again.
Already exhausted and his day was just beginning. Elijah threw his leather jacket over the pile of boxes lining the wall under a huge whiteboard before collapsing into his desk chair. He lurched to his left as the seat tipped sideways, reminding him that the chair was just one more item on his long list of things that needed to be repaired in the BDSM club.
Setting the pile of papers aside, he reached for the keyboard to sign-in as he asked, “How bad is it?”
Tyler’s cheery, “We’ve had worse,” helped keep his blood pressure down long enough to login.
“Lay it on me.”
“The one and only gay dom we had sign up for Roulette is backing out. Says he has some business trip or some other bullshit. We have a long waiting list of gay submissives, but we’re short on gay doms.”
Okay, all things considered, this wasn’t the end of the world. With the huge popularity of the event, he was sure he could con another dominant into participating.
“Go through the membership files. See if you can find anyone identifying as bi-sexual and dominant. Maybe we can find someone new to approach that way.”
“Will do. Oh, and Madison called. She’s gonna be late.”
That was worse news.
“Dammit, we’re so fucking behind! Against my better judgement I gave in and gave everyone yesterday off, but why the hell is the parking lot empty? This is a workday.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, but I suspect it’s only because you don’t want me to fire your ass.”
Tyler grinned, chuckling. “I’m not worried about that. You need me too much for Roulette.”
While his second-in-command was right, Elijah also noted, “Roulette ends on the fourteenth. You hoping to be employed on the fifteenth?”
“Jeez, you can’t even take a joke. You’re a real dick to be around lately.”
Elijah countered, “At least I only get this way for a few weeks in February. How’d you like to work for Spencer? He’s like this year-round.”
“True facts. I talked to Owen over the weekend. He says half the DMs are ready to string him up.”
Elijah let his imagination run wild, picturing his counterpart, Spencer Cook, trussed to the St. Andrew’s Cross at Black Light East with his dungeon monitors whipping him. Now that would be a scene he’d pay good money to see.
“Well, if everyone doesn’t step it up around here, I may do my own stringing up. No one’s taking how behind we are seriously,” Elijah complained.
