Free Master Dan by Natalie Dae Page B

Really, it doesn’t.”
    “Then hush.”
    I hushed. Let him caress me, take me to that place where all worries and troubles vanished. Where I could think about things and they weren’t a burden.
    Bondage City and my time there filled my mind. I’d been full of trepidation when I’d found the place advertised online, that the higher realms of society would think someone of my ‘standing’ shouldn’t set foot inside there. I hadn’t even known I’d wanted that kind of thing until I’d stumbled across it. But just because I’d been born into a privileged lifestyle didn’t mean I had feelings any different to anyone else. I had an urge to dominate, and finding out there was a place where I could do that had seemed like being set free.
    Oh, I knew there were kinky parties I could go to, those in someone or other’s house—secrets well-kept by those who attended because they didn’t want anyone knowing just what they got up to. Those types of parties were miles away from what I needed, though. I had been expected to be a sub whenever I attended, but my tendencies didn’t fully lean that way. I needed to control somehow—and wasn’t that funny? I’d met Dan, and although it seemed I was the one who called the shots, I wasn’t. Perhaps the illusion of it was enough for me. I was happy—happier than I’d ever been—and I supposed, because it was ingrained in me, that my little bout of worry this evening had been brought on by something I couldn’t help. To be told all my life that I had to live by unwritten yet important rules was still buried inside me. No matter how much I wanted to be liberated from them, they were still there.
    Walking into Bondage City had been a revelation. It wasn’t the plush-carpeted, beautifully decorated place I had envisaged. Instead, bare, cream-painted walls and large, shiny gray floor tiles had been the order of the day in a reception that housed a scarred teak desk. The woman behind it—now she’d been a sight, all brassy blonde hair in a chignon, a too-tight corset that had me automatically holding my breath and a mouth so slathered in red I’d wondered how many men would go home with lipstick on their collars.
    “Why did you choose Bondage City?” I asked, pushing closer into Dan’s embrace. “We know there are better places out there.”
    “Why did you choose it?”
    I smiled, my cheek bunching against his chest. “You’ve got me. Because I was new to the game and didn’t know there were nicer places. I just thought…well, someone like you would have known.”
    “As opposed to someone like you?” He chuckled. “We’re both from the same backgrounds. If you want to psychoanalyze it, I’d hazard a guess that going ‘downmarket’, for want of a better term, meant we’d reduce the risk of being seen, of people in our circles finding out our desires. People who wouldn’t understand them—because ours are different to theirs, I think. Plus, we have parents to consider, brothers, sisters… Bringing shame on them—which is how it would be perceived—possibly wasn’t something we would be comfortable doing. Visiting somewhere your family or peers wouldn’t—it makes sense, doesn’t it?”
    “Hmm.”
    “And now there’s Marshall Cottage, we don’t have to worry about any of that. Mr M makes sure no one from our immediate circles would be allowed there. No one we know can go there when we’re there. He does thorough searches, you know that. We can relax. And don’t you find it hideous that we have to consider such things? Who would see us, what they’d think? I’m almost past it, Victoria. Really.”
    “So if your parents…?”
    He laughed, the sound rumbling into my ear. “All right. I’m not past it. But you know what I mean.”
    “I do.” And I did.
    We’d found a safe haven in Marshall Cottage, where everyone accepted everyone for who they were. Or so I’d thought until that woman had stared at us. How could a glance—all right, a long