Free Velvet Memories by Violet Summers

lifted the wide wooden blade. And he was pretty damned sure he’d seen something suspiciously like jealousy in those glowing eyes before the submissive had turned his back — dammit — and walked out of the bar like it was nothing.
    Now Rob was stuck caring for Trey. Okay, stuck wasn’t really the right word. Bringing his submissive down, bringing him or her safely back to reality, had always seemed like a privilege, one Rob embraced. It made him feel every bit as powerful as the scene itself, knowing it was his hands, his voice, keeping his submissive glued together when they couldn’t do so themselves.
    So, it wasn’t that he was stuck with Trey. It was that everything in him needed to follow Michael. It wasn’t just that he wanted the man, though God knew he did. It was the way something in that expressionless face told him Michael needed to be brought down gently every bit as much as Trey did. Maybe more.
    But that wasn’t how things worked, and for the moment Rob’s job was to take care of the beautiful, golden man lying in front of him. He’d get to Michael, though. No question about it.

Chapter Six
    Michael had started thinking of his life as the time before Rob and the time after Rob. It wasn’t a particularly happy contrast.
    Every fucking night he worked Rob was lurking. He hadn’t taken on a sub for another scene, though it was clear to everyone at the club Trey would be more than happy to accommodate him. Hell, it was clear that pretty much any of the club subs would be happy to work with him. The idea filled Michael with an uneasy combination of jealousy and yearning that just flat-out pissed him off.
    Rob had infiltrated every part of his life, featuring prominently in his dreams and even showing up in his artwork by way of the hint of a green-black eye, or a swirl of gold suggesting a hard, muscular shoulder.
    Worse, it felt like Rob had stolen his one release, the freedom to submit at the Club.
    Michael was a sexual submissive. Putting himself into the hands of a strong partner he could trust was as necessary to him as breathing. Rob’s presence at the club made it impossible for Michael to give in, though. Just the thought of submitting, of making himself so vulnerable and open, with Rob nearby set a knot at the base of his belly. And the idea of submitting to someone other than Rob was even worse.
    He wasn’t about to quit his job, though. This perverse obsession with Rob would fade. Yeah, and if he told himself that enough times, maybe he’d come to believe it.
    No, he needed to burn Rob out of his brain and he needed the release of submission. The answer was quite simple. So simple he felt like kicking himself for taking so long to think of it. He volunteered to be a public display submissive. In truth Michael always had enjoyed letting others watch. It helped to build the tension during a scene and take him higher; it gave him the adrenaline rush like nothing else.
    And being at the mercy of a series of Doms and Dominas would obliterate any thoughts of Rob from his head like nothing else could.
    He was completely nude, adorned with only a black cock ring when he climbed onto the platform before the St. Andrews Cross. The device was set on a vertical turntable which allowed passersby to give a spin and leave him head down at their whim. Coincidentally, that would put his mouth at groin level. He wasn’t complaining.
    Of course, the set-up required more than usual precautions. He was joined on the platform by one of the floor managers. Ty had been a fixture at Velvet Ice long before Michael had come to work there, and he imagined she’d be there long after he was gone. If he had to guess, he’d put her in her early forties, but there was a timelessness about the woman that made age incidental. There was also a calm surrounding her, a peace that soaked into his skin, clear down to his bones. He didn’t know if she was a Domina or a submissive. He suspected maybe she was a switch. What he