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I keep my face neutral as I watch Billy crawl on her hands and knees to me. I chose a seat far away from where I left her at the hostess desk. Didn’t do it because I wanted her to suffer. Okay, I didn’t do it because I only wanted that. Sure, I’m still pissed, and I have a mean streak when I want it. But I also chose the seat for the view it gives me. It’s set apart and toward the back, allowing a broad view of the room, and raises me up on a bit of a dais. Since there’s no sign saying the place is reserved, I’ve made myself comfortable, both arms thrown out on the back of the couch as I spread my legs out wide. I don’t usually take up so much room, but I want others to see that I’m not looking to make space for anyone but the one crawling toward me.

She keeps her eyes on me like the good pet she is. She goes slow and steady, but I know it’s more to make sure she’s not putting her hands on something sticky on the ground than out of defiance.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, she’s mad as hell. I might not know all her secrets, but I’ve learned to read her when she’s mad.

She was angry when we first met and I pulled a gun on her sister. She was pissed as fuck when her boss made her go on this mission with me. Madder than a kitten when I refused to talk to her on the plane. And now she’s about ten seconds away from setting me on fire.

She does a good job of reining it in. Those who don’t know her would see nothing on her face or in her body language. But that’s the issue. They don’t know her. And whatever the definition is, I probably don’t know her that well either. But I’ve been around longer than others, I bet. I’ve seen both sides of her coin. The soldier and the pretend version. I’ve got a feeling she’s a bit of both and still holds a part of herself back.

Call it what you want. I’ve watched people all my life. Even before I became a sniper, I was the one who noticed things before others. As a kid, I had friends, but I was the quiet one of the group. My little brother hated how I always noticed things about him when he was hoping to hide. Kid never got away with shit with me—not that I snitched to Mom or Dad about it.

While Billy might be forced to look at me, I don’t have to follow the same rule. And I take this time to look around while keeping her at the corner of my eye. While I want her sole focus on me as her Dom, I need to be perceived as not caring. It’s not that I don’t as a Dom, but my play here is to see if anyone will bite when I say I want more than one submissive. Might get me an invitation to this auction or whatever it is. I know Billy and I need to talk strategy still, but till we do, I’m running the show.

Looking around, I see a few notice my girl crawling, but not everyone. We’re in a fetish club, so this isn’t unusual. Even if I can tell that Billy’s never been told to crawl a day in her life since she learned to walk. The bit of spark in her eyes she tried to keep dim gave her away. She was hoping to be unaffected by my punishment. She probably thought I would choose a caning or something to demonstrate my power. But this works just as well in my book.

Though, seeing her take off her coat and having her standing practically naked for all to see had my palm itching. Spanking has proven to be effective in my past, but I wanted more than to watch her come at that moment. I wanted to watch her scream in pain and a bit of fear. I wanted her to feel what I was feeling. Which isn’t how a Dom/sub relationship works, at least not how I do it. I need to be in control, not let my anger spread out toward her. And boy, was I mad. I could piss nails just thinking about it.

I don’t know what she or her company was thinking. You don’t show skin to just fit in. It’s a right to show parts of a woman’s body, even in a BDSM environment. They might be more open to it than others, more accepting, but you still don’t just walk into the unknown without a layer of protection. The schematic of a building gets you an idea of how the rooms are built, not if the people inside are safe.

It might seem primal, and maybe I went a bit far with cutting off her excuse for clothing. But forcing my shirt on her soothed a part of my Dom side, my protective side. She needed coverage, and I provided. I wasn’t doing it to show off my skin, though I appreciated having her eyes roam over me. To me, my rules aren’t a simple take to what she gives. I’m here to give as much as she is. Even if this isn’t a real thing between us, I care too much about the role to let me ignore the rules I’ve set up for myself in it.

My shirt is big on her small frame, and it hangs fairly low on her. When she stands, it covers her to upper thigh, but crawling? It hikes up on her ass, and from the higher view I have, I can see the laced pattern that flares across her tight tush. There must be some sort of crystal in her thong, because every time she moves, it sparkles a bit. Her skin isn’t overly tan, nor too pale. If there’s something that’s just right, hers would be it. Especially as I can see her flush from embarrassment, or just anger at crawling, spreading over her skin.

When she gets closer, I don’t look away. She has all my attention, from the curve of her tits that forms when her arm reaches out to the tips of her nipples that are clear to see beneath my thin shirt. Her boots are high enough that I don’t worry about her knees being scraped on the ground from her long crawl. Another thing that held my attention from the start. Hooker heels are cute and all, but a girl in long boots and barely anything else? Call me a switch if you want, but I enjoy seeing a bit of dominatrix on a girl, especially when she’s the submissive type. Girls who look badass but fall under your thumb are a turn-on. Call me crazy, but I like that I can bring a woman who can take care of herself down to my level, and even paddle that ass.

“Here, pet.” I pat my thigh and don’t hold back my smirk as she glares a second before she corrects herself and crawls to the space beside me.

“Turn around. Sit on your heels.” She does what I say, and as soon as I see her settled, I pull her head to lean on my thigh as I massage her neck and scalp. “Eyes open,” I order with a clipped tone after I hear her heavy sigh from my soft touch. I’m not doing this to comfort her. Well, not completely. I want her to see what I see. I gave her the role to have her eyes level. From the position I put her in, she won’t miss anything that’s going on. I just hope she knows that.

I get that she’s part of the Crazy Eights. That she even fooled me and the rest of my boys for months. I’ve seen her handle weapons enough to know she can hold her own. But other than that, I have no idea about her training. No clue if she can do field work. Being part of a team means nothing if trust isn’t there. And that’s one thing we don’t have. I’ve got no clue if Billy will cut me off the first chance she gets. If her plan is to use me as bait to get her friend out. I have the word of her boss, but what do I really know about her? That she likes cloak-and-dagger shit and held a level of threat over my club’s head for over a year till she needed something? Blackmail doesn’t earn trust.

“Well, that was an interesting display,” the guy who was with the hostess says as he sits beside me, ignoring my manspreading to keep others out. “Excessive in my experience.”

“It was earned.” I stroke my pet’s hair tenderly to show love and support, even to him. But it’s more to keep my hands busy and not jab the fucker in the throat. I’ve seen this play before, even at my club. Some guy makes a few remarks in the earshot of a woman in hopes that it’ll gain him some favor and she’ll sidle up to him before the night’s over.

If a woman takes the bait and gets up and leaves, it’s no hair off my back. Just like for her, there’s another dick to sit on, for me there’s another dick sucker out there. But not tonight. And not with Billy.

I explain more to this asshat than I need to, but I don’t know if he can be used yet. Best to make friends than keep them all at arm’s length. “She made a few mistakes before we got here. A punishment was in her future as it was. This was just a simple way for us to get it out of the way so we can enjoy the rest of our night together.”

“What was the offense?” I bet the guy hopes it’s something small. Something he can use to his advantage and get Billy to go to him. Not that she would. She might be here for the mission, but I don’t see her as having a daddy kink. Protective and caring? Yeah. But nothing about her is Little behavior, and this guy screams age play. Especially since he seemed to like his little helper pouting earlier.

“Lying.” I feel her stiffen beside me. Her crawl might not gain my trust, but it goes a long way to soothe my fury at her tricking me. For now. If she does it again, who knows what I’ll do? I’m in the Dom headspace now. I’m trying to keep this separate, but things are getting crossed now that it’s just us two and everything is out in the open at this point.

Not everything.

I crush that voice in my mind. Just because I’m still confused about all my feelings for Billy doesn’t mean I’m hiding anything. I’m attracted to her. Anyone would be. Hell, this guy is blatantly hitting on her, and there are several others just as pretty waiting to be someone’s plaything for the night. There’s a spark about her that draws you in. But it’s not only her looks. Her spirit has called to me from the start. The defiance, the biting of the tongue to keep herself contained, even when she held back. I saw it. I always knew she had more than what she was showing me when I first started going after her. And now I know why.

She’s been hiding herself. Not just that she was a Crazy Eights member but her submissive side. A side that I get a feeling she has to bury quite often. She’s strong when she has to be, and I can already tell that happens more times than not. I’m not saying she can’t handle herself or shouldn’t, but being able to relax is a treasure I’ve learned. My brothers give that to me. My club welcomed me in and gave me space to let go of everything if I need to. I haven’t been able to have that myself since the club’s last war with the mafia, but I know I can do it. I know the club will have my back when I’m ready to let go.

Even now that I’m the president, I might have to curb how I relax. The boys won’t see me as anything different. And those who do probably won’t last long under my reign as it is. But I can’t just pick up a club vamp and fuck her how I want, where I want. She’d be expecting things now. Things I’m not ready to give.

I thought maybe I was interested in Billy like that. But that was when she was Wendi and I was just Casper, club brother. Not club president. And not playing a part with someone who might still be an enemy.

I have Flint and Gator running everything they can back home on her and her friends. We took pictures of every person C8 pulled up with. We’re getting stories. Maybe not everything, but it’s more than what we had. We need to figure out who they are. Hounds are everywhere. You go to any major city and a chapter of the Hounds of the Reaper is there, or a nomad is. You can find us. You know who we are. We don’t hide behind smoke and mirrors. They might think that makes them special, but all I see is someone with something to hide.

I might work with Billy. I might even learn to trust her while I do this. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust her people.

“Oh, I see. Well, if she ever becomes too much for you, just let me know. Helper tells me you’re new to the club. We have others in residence who are a bit more obedient if that’s your taste. I’m sure we can find someone willing to take this one off your hands. She might just need a softer touch.” The old man is salivating at the chance of getting to my pet, and he’s not taking the hint. I find myself fantasizing about smashing his head in again, and it pulls a smile from my lips.

“Maybe we should ask the girl what she wants.” A voice speaks up that has me looking behind the old man.

I give him a genuine smile, the first one since I’ve walked in here, and a bow of my head in recognition of his request. If I didn’t already know who he is, I would have figured out that he’s a man of some importance by the way the old asshat is trembling. It’s a fine ability to make another man shake in his boots. Especially in a kink club, where both men are considered to be dominant figures in their own right.

“Pet.” I draw out her name, and she rolls her eyes to me and me only. I caress her cheek and jaw in appreciation of her keeping to my rules. “Would you like another to train you?”

I watch the fire in her eyes. She wants to say so much, probably with her fists, but she only speaks two words. “No, Master.”

I chuckle. Of course she would be defiant, but only I see it. Only I know I don’t want her to call me that. But for those around us, it’s what is needed. They have to see that this is more than just a onetime thing. Those who enter a Master/sub relationship are committed on another level. One that few ever leave from.

“Run along, Daddy. You won’t collar this one today,” the newcomer says with a bit of malice and mirth in his voice, smiling as the other man glares and stomps away.

The new guy takes a seat, but thankfully, he’s farther away and not right next to me like the last one as he watches my pet. She’s turned back around to look out at the crowd as I continue to stroke her hair.

“She seems very well trained. You two must be very happy together.”

“As happy as one would be.”

The guy hums at my response before he finally takes his eyes off my pet and looks at me. “Welcome officially to the club. I’m one of the watchers in this place. It’s my job to make sure those who come in know our rules as well as make sure that everyone follows them. Did you have any questions about the forms you filled out before you came?”

I shake my head. This club, like any other, had a stack of paperwork to get through to get a membership. Most of the time it takes months, even years, to get in, but C8 had been greasing palms for a while and got us in before we even agreed to do this, it seems. Most of the time, they require a picture ID to start the membership process, but C8 convinced them that a name check was all that was needed and that no interviews were necessary. Of course, we could only get the visitors pass, and only for two weeks. Anything longer required interviews, and neither I nor C8 wants to invest that much time in this if we don’t have to.

“Good, then I’ll let you enjoy yourselves. See you around, Casper.” He whispers my name, then winks before leaving.

Billy stiffens, and I just continue to stroke her head to settle her down. Fucker did that on purpose. No way does he want me to enjoy anything, and with that remark, Billy won’t either. Then again, the guy was always a sadist.

Most club brothers are.