Free Sweet Pain (The Club #18) by Rebel Adams Page A

believe we have a few enterprising ladies in Karim who are over on Fourth and Greevey. You, son, are not Dom material. And if you are ever found on Club property, you will be immediately arrested. And you’d better hope the cops get there first.” 
    “Did you just diss me?”
    “Big time, slick.” 
    David stood and took a few steps back. “Whatevs. I don’t need your club to get me some pussy.” 
    “Indeed. You don’t. Enjoy those crabs.” 
    “Whatever. I’m out.” 
    I watched him leave. I sighed. The problem was that there were women who would buy that crap and never experience the pleasure that could be found when someone worshiped the female form, when they sought as much pleasure from their partner as they were seeking. 
    Ah, well. Better he ditched than tried to worm his way in. 
    It looked as though it were going to be one of the odd lunches where I didn’t really have any company, so I opted to order myself one of the lunches that the Trattoria was famous for. 
    Sitting there, looking around, I was amused by the amount of kinksters in Karim. I spotted at least two, and there were several who were Open Night regulars. That was just in the restaurant. Were there so many in Karim because of the Club or were there so many because of the influence of the Club? 
    I laughed. Creating kinky citizens one naughty night at a time. 
    I was just about to call for the check and get back to my boring day job when a very unsure young woman popped in the front door, glancing around. She walked to the hostess and spoke quietly. The hostess shook her head, but pointed over to me. 
    I waited to see what she was going to do. A long stare, a hesitant step, but she didn’t make it. Turning, she was back to the hostess stand and left something with her. The hostess, one of our regulars, shrugged and walked a piece of paper over to me. 
    “She was expecting someone else. She got scared.” 
    I took the paper and saw it was a phone number. “Probably just as well. I need to get back to work. I’ll call her.”
    The office was four blocks away, plenty of time to make a phone call. Dialing the number, it took only a moment for a small, sweet voice to answer, “Hello?”
    “Hello, my little bug. Did I scare you off?” 
    “I’m sorry. I thought that Beebee was going to be there today.” 
    “You were there for the Munch.” I imagined her pursing her adorable little lips, and she nodding briefly. “Well, you were here at the right day and time, but you’re on the wrong week. That said, perhaps I can help you?” 
    “Maybe.” Her voice was soft, scared. 
    “Why don’t you tell me what brought you there?” 
    “Iwantedtotrybeingasubmissive.” One word. Too adorable. 
    “Well, I can help you. The submissive munch is in two weeks, but I can bring you in to talk to Beebee so you don’t have to wait.” 
    “Really?” 
    “Of course. I’m only too happy to help. We are, at our hearts, kind people who want to see people happy.” 
    Once again, I saw that imaginary nod going. “Okay. What do I do?” 
    “You meet me this evening. We’ll even meet up in public, so you’re not afraid. Greevey and Oak Street, at seven?” I had to remember to ask. She wasn’t a sub yet.
    “I’ll be there. Thank you.” 
    “I’ll be waiting, little bug. Goodbye.” 
    “Bye.” 
    As I walked back to the office, I made the mistake of thinking about my nighttime occupation. The hard-on didn’t take long. I shook my head and ignored it. 
    There really wasn’t much that was better than a well-spanked ass. 
    Except one that was learning to take the spanking. 
    This was not helping my dick.
     
    *  *  *
    “Shit.” I slammed my head back into the wall and closed my eyes. My little box sat empty in my lap. The shit was gone. I didn’t even remember shooting it all. A hot hatred for everything and everyone coursed through me. There had to be more hidden somewhere.
    “Darnell, wake the hell up.” I