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He turned back with a sigh.
Mandy ran her tongue suggestively over her plump lower lip as she slipped a hand between her thighs. “You can’t go,” she said in a high, wheedling voice. “Come keep me warm, daddy. Your widdle girl needs a big, strong man to keep away the boogeyman.”
Beau shook his head. “You’ve had too much to drink, Mandy. Get some sleep. I’ll see myself out.”
Mandy stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “Don’t you dare go. I want… I need…” She trailed off, completing the sentence with a soft snore, eyes fluttering closed once more. Before she woke again, Beau quickly took his leave, closing the door softly behind him.
The following Saturday morning, armed with a mug of coffee, Beau stepped out onto his patio. He’d texted Mandy the day after the wedding just to make sure she was okay. She’d sent back a terse reply that she was fine, thank you. Presumably, she’d flown back to Virginia, and that was that.
Just as he sat down, his phone dinged. It was a text from his friend, Mark Wheeler.
You still able to make it tonight?
Beau quickly thumbed back:
Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it.
Mark’s reply arrived a moment later.
Great! Meantime, want to get together for breakfast at Early Girl Eatery in about thirty minutes? The downtown location on Wall Street. You can meet Jaime.”
Having arrived in Asheville only a few weeks before, Beau hadn’t yet had a chance to get together with his old friend.
Sounds perfect. See you in a few.
Beau was excited about his upcoming adventure at The Enclave, an opportunity made possible by Mark. The two of them had first met several years ago at a private BDSM club in Charlotte.
Lair Sade was a hardcore BDSM venue for serious players, and both Mark and Beau had been serious as heart attacks at the time. After his breakup with Renee, Beau could be found there most weekend nights, attempting to distract himself with intense but casual play. Mark, too, had been dealing with a breakup, though of a different kind. His very successful rock band had imploded with the overdose death of the band’s bass player while on stage. They had bonded not only over their shared love of BDSM, but over the recent tragedies in their lives.
He and Mark had kept in touch after Mark’s move to join The Enclave. When Beau had told Mark a few months back that he’d be returning to Asheville himself for a tenured professorship, Mark had floated the idea of Beau’s joining The Enclave as a kind of adjunct trainer. Since Beau wouldn’t start teaching until the new semester began in January, the timing was perfect.
Intrigued, Beau had agreed to a Zoom interview with the two founders of The Enclave, Anthony Gerace and Brandon Cooper. They’d discussed Beau’s background and experience with BDSM, agreeing he would be a good fit. Their live-in slave training program had become a core feature, and now they were looking to expand their offerings, both privately and to the BDSM community at large. They were especially interested in Beau’s expertise withKinbaku.
They’d ended up talking for well over an hour, discussing The Enclave’s history, mission and training techniques. Beau had learned that Anthony and Brandon had purchased the large, secluded mountain property a number of years back with the goal of creating a private BDSM community where a small group of Doms and subs could live an intensive 24/7 lifestyle. He’d been given a virtual tour of the place, which had impressed the hell out of him.
When he arrived at the restaurant, Mark and his partner, Jaime, were already seated at a small round table toward the back. Mark waved as Beau approached. Jaime twisted in her seat, revealing a lovely face with blue-gray eyes and porcelain skin, framed by long dark hair. She wore a leather collar around her neck, a diamond sparkling at its center.
Mark stood and pulled Beau into an embrace as they greeted each other. As Beau took his seat, Mark said, “Beau, this is Jaime, my slave girl.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Beau,” she said with a pretty smile. “Master Mark has spoken of you often.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Jaime. You’re just as lovely as Mark said you were.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Jaime said softly. She looked to Mark, the lovelight shining in her eyes. Her Dom gazed at her tenderly, a smile lifting his lips.
Beau had known that kind of love or had thought he had.
He waited for that familiar sucker punch to the gut that seeing others in love invariably caused. Yet all he felt was a vague, sour regret. Maybe he’d finally and truly relegated Renee to the past.
To distract himself from his well-worn musings, he said, “I’m looking forward to tonight. I’m excited for the opportunity to work with you guys.”
“I think you’ll be a great addition,” Mark replied. “We’re putting up our visiting whip makers at a nearby bed and breakfast for the weekend, but you’re welcome to stay at The Enclave. In fact, if you’re able, you could stay the week. One of our resident Doms, Julian, is in Europe right now with his slave boy. He’s offered you the use of his suite until his return Friday evening. If you can swing it, it would be a great way for you to really get a sense of our unique community.”
“That sounds awesome,” Beau readily agreed. “I have a few things I need to attend to at the university over the course of the week, but there’s no reason I can’t make The Enclave my home base.”
The waitress appeared, menus in hand. Jaime chose the French toast with a side of bacon, Mark the chicken biscuit and Beau the buttermilk pancakes with fresh fruit. As they ate, they caught up on each other’s lives, neither touching on the old wounds, scarred over now, if not entirely forgotten.
The couple shared funny stories about their various adventures and mishaps during Jaime’s initial training at The Enclave, and the sweet romance of their falling in love. Recalling how tortured and miserable Mark had been before coming to The Enclave, Beau was truly happy for his friend.
