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"Maybe I ought to go down there myself and throw a few more flies in the ointment, so to speak." Joel deliberated as he checked his watch then attached a fluorescent Dungeon Monitor armband over his black silk shirt and rose to his feet. "Sounds like more fun than I've had in ages!"
"And whose fault is that? You're on duty again tonight?" It was really more of a statement than a question, but Joel nodded anyway.
"You're pulling a lot of those lately," Connor commented. "We short staffed?" The two of them had bought out Club Risqué three years ago, along with Jake Blackwood and Logan Thornton, but each of them was only as involved as they wanted to be, and while they all chipped in where necessary, the day to day running and management of the club was down to their staff.
"Nah," Joel denied. "I volunteered."
"Again," Connor stated, looking pointedly at his friend.
"Again," Joel agreed, refusing to be drawn in as he turned on his heel and headed towards the play areas.
Chapter Four
Joel sighed, dragged his fingers through his black hair, and weaved his way through the busy lounge towards the stairs leading to the private rooms to fulfil his DM duties as he contemplated Connor's words.
Was Joel himself to blame for his current sense of dissatisfaction? It wasn't that he worked too hard. Sure, he put in extra hours at Blackwood when the situation merited it, but he had a great team around him and he wasn't afraid to delegate. That was just another lesson that he had learned from his dad. Joseph Blackwood had mourned the death of his wife, mostly because his ridiculous workload had cut into what turned out to be an abbreviated lifespan after his mother had died unexpectedly, six years ago, at the age of fifty. His father had always believed there would be plenty of time for them to spend together after his retirement, but their time had run out.
Not that Joel had anyone special to spend his time with. He spent a lot of time at the club, but that didn't count as work. The club had always been his pleasure, even on nights like tonight, when he was on duty. More so since he and his friends had decided to buy it together. It was with a sense of pride that he studied his domain, checked on the patrons, ensured everyone played and scened responsibly, continued to uphold the fine reputation of his college stomping ground and mentored the newest batch of 'baby Doms' to behave conscientiously. No, he wasn't dissatisfied with his work or with the club.
He was dissatisfied with his relationships…or rather what was lacking from them. He was dissatisfied with short term hook-ups at the club, but he was equally dissatisfied with the type of woman his father had taken to foisting upon him over the past couple of years. Vanilla women that his father considered to be perfect 'wife' material but who left Joel feeling cold both inside and out. He'd come to know himself well enough in his thirty-four years to understand that unless there was some kind of fundamental change in his viewpoint, he would never be content to settle down with someone who didn't at least share the same sexual proclivities as he did. Trouble was none of the submissives he connected with ever came close to fulfilling his ideals and he never felt strongly enough about any of them to want to make compromises. Maybe, if he ever met the right woman, that would change, but for now, he was just dissatisfied. So much so that he preferred to take extra DM shifts when he was at the club rather than try to fend off well-meaning friends trying to pair him up with unsuitable women or handling the frustration of scening with yet another disappointing sub. He had decided recently that it was better not to go there than to have to keep facing constant disillusionment or to risk upsetting the people around him.
Joel took one of the four ornate spiral staircases up to check on the ten individual theme rooms first. They could be booked by the hour and were open to viewing, fronted by floor to ceiling glass walls. Depending on the theme, the rooms had thick drapes that could be pulled across or a tint switch that would turn the window opaque for those who wanted more privacy. Two other rooms were strictly private with no viewing windows, for those patrons who weren't into exhibitionism, and they were monitored from the club's control room via audio and video links. No one here was above being supervised, however much discretion they sought.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Joel made his way to the closest room. They were arranged around the perimeter of the second level with a wide walkway, come viewing platform, which also overlooked the staging areas in the arena below and boasted staircases at each corner for ease of access.
According to the schedule, all the rooms were in use. Room one was the French boudoir with its sumptuous draperies, Louis XIV furnishings and Baroque style. Glancing through the viewing window, Joel checked the scene inside where two Doms had a blindfolded sub spread eagle on the luxurious four poster bed while one drew patterns on her body with a feather and the other had his mouth on her pussy. The restraints were correctly fastened, didn't appear to be rubbing and the woman moaned and writhed in ecstasy under the ministrations of her two Doms. No problems there. Moving on to the second room, he found a couple role playing as a doctor and his nurse with their patient strapped onto the medical couch, her ankles secured in stirrups while the pair pierced hypodermic syringes through strategic areas of her body. Joel couldn't help the slight shudder that shook him. He couldn't see the appeal in needle play. He never judged, it was just a bit too extreme for his tastes, no matter how often Master Doug tried to convince him that it was similar to acupuncture. A careful appraisal of the sub assured Joel that she was clearly relishing the procedure and he moved on to the next room as the Dom in question, dressed only in an unbuttoned white lab coat with a stethoscope hanging around his neck, reached into a medical cabinet for a speculum.
In room three, two subs dressed as school girls were both bent side by side over a desk while a Dom caned them simultaneously. One of the women repeatedly stuck out her ass screaming, "More, Sir, more!" Joel scowled and shook his head. That Dom needed to keep his sub reined in and stop her from trying to control the scene.
Bypassing the next staircase, Joel glanced quickly down into the arena to make sure nothing was amiss on the exhibition stages as he turned the corner to check on the next three rooms.
In the boardroom, he found two suited men hard at it, one kneeling on a chair with his elbows on the table while the other stood behind him, pounding into his ass.
Room five housed the sultan's throne room where, currently, three girls were performing their own take of the dance of the seven veils for each other. There was no 'sultan' in sight but a lot of interested voyeurs as the girls rubbed up against each other, touching, stroking and kissing. Joel smiled; girl on girl action always drew the crowds, and he moved on then to the suspension room next door with its ceiling full of cranks and pulleys where it looked like a scene had just finished, since the cleaning crew had moved in, and he made a mental note to check on the new occupants in thirty minutes' time.
Turning the next corner to the 'mini dungeon', he found his cousin, Jake, with a sub cuffed to the cast iron rings embedded in the faux stone wall. His favoured signal whip had been put aside and the sub sported some light welts over her buttocks and thighs. His cock was buried between the woman's legs and he had a firm grip on her hips as he pulled her back into his body. With a critical eye, Joel noted that the weals that adorned her were all superficial. Jake was nothing if not an expert when it came to the whip.
"Harder, please, harder!" she begged. "I need to come so bad!"
Joel rolled his eyes. Yet another sub, topping from the bottom.
Jake stilled and released her hips, grabbing a handful of his sub's hair and pulling her head back to look at him while he braced his other arm against the wall.
"Who's in charge here, sweetheart?" he demanded in a rough voice.
"You are, Sir," the girl whimpered.
"That's right." Jake pushed his torso up against hers, effectively pinning her to the wall and blocking her attempts to buck against him and get herself off.
Sensing movement at the window, Jake glanced over momentarily and grinned at Joel as he caught his raised eyebrow.
Turning one hundred percent of his attention back to the sub, he growled in her ear, "That means you don't get to come until I say so, understand?"
"Yes," she grumbled. Jake moved like lightening and laid a sharp slap to her outer thigh, making her yelp, more in surprise than pain.
"What was that?" he challenged.
"Yes, Sir!" the sub corrected with a marked improvement in her attitude.
