Sunday, February 24, 2013

The Art of Breaking - Part 18

The moment Nikolas walked into the Black Eagle wearing all black, from his boots to his T-shirt and leather pants; he spotted Master D also known as Dominique; noting the concerned expression on his friend’s face as he made a beeline for Nikolas. Dominique had trained Nikolas to be the Master he became today. His mastery in patience, dominance, and the training provided no quarter for disrespect. He could be harsh, but he was a fair man. 
“Nikolas, my friend, where have you been? Stevie made mention that you were going to grace us with your presence. It has been too long.” Master D asked. “Will you join me for a drink?”
Mouth drawn in a tight line, Nikolas nodded as he slid into the metal and red leather padded chair, taking a quick glance around. The BDSM club was filling quickly beyond capacity. A driving beat pounded from the speakers that were controlled by a DJ in a glass booth. Members decked to the nines in leather with their submissive kneeling at their master’s feet occupied various booths and tables, along with non members who frequented the club. Masters still looking for the right sub and visa versa. Dominique ran his club with a tight fist and strict policies. Let it not be said that he didn’t have applications filled out and backgrounds checks done for each of the men in attendance. Second chances weren’t given. You mess up once and fuck up and you were banned from the club.
Turning his attention back to Dominique, Nikolas found himself staring at a man who he had a strong urge to punch just on general principal. He also admired the man. His hair was perfectly moussed into place, light brown, and sun streaked, skin nicely tanned. His smile revealed perfectly capped teeth. His suit screamed Armani, as did his shoes. They were about the same age, they both were Masters, Doms, but both were as different as night and day in temperament.
Master D sat and motioned for the waiter, scantily clad in a leather thong, nipples pierced and more body tattoos than sin, to bring him a glass of wine and Nikolas a Scotch on the rocks while he gave Nikolas a stern look.
“Thanks,” Nikolas said. “I’ve been busy. Work. You know how it goes.”
Dominique snorted. “All work and no play, my friend, will not do. You’ll wear yourself down before your time. So what does bring you to the club this evening? Have a need to taste one of our many subs or perhaps make one your own?”
Shaking his head, Nikolas felt his temper rise. “I received an invitation to be here.” Holding up both hands in his defense, an explanation wouldn’t have been swift enough by the shocked expression on Master D’s countenance. He gathered his shoulder-length hair into a ponytail and secured it with a strap of leather.
“It is not uncommon to send a submissive an invitation to my establishment, but who in their right mind would send one to a Master Dom?”

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