Page 26 of Total Assist (For Puck’s Sake #13)

SHIVELY

I admit that while I hated writing a report—that’s certainly a punishment for me—researching the Isle of Kala did a lot to ease my mind. I spent a good long time looking at just the NDA that everyone signs as well as the terms of service regarding anonymity and technology.

While I knew that Dasan wouldn’t do anything to put either of our careers at risk, I feel better having read everything for myself.

Which was likely why he decided to give me that particular punishment.

There are still two punishments hanging in the air that he hasn’t decided on after having determined that my report was a punishment for not trusting him.

He’s right. I need to trust him. I do trust him. But even my trust doesn’t dissuade my fear of being caught. The more time we spend together, the more I realize that my fear isn’t just in regard to my job. Maybe moreso, it’s fear of getting caught and losing Dasan.

Today’s fear is something else entirely. Yesterday, we spent the afternoon and evening in our remote cabin while I performed sexual services for my alpha. It was probably the hottest, most satisfying day of my life. The way he took pleasure in everything I did for him.

Beyond the physical pleasure though was his pleasure in me. When I brought him water. When I ordered us room service. When I answered the door at his request in nothing but a towel around my waist to retrieve the room service. When I washed him.

Everything I did seemed to please him. I was fucking high with that feeling. Seriously, like coming out of my skin, high as a damn kite.

But right now, we’re on the ferry heading to Bane Island. This is a residential island which means there’s technology here. Knowing this has me tense, despite trying not to let it bother me.

“The man I’ve been talking to is a dom named Miles,” Dasan says.

I stick close to his side, my anxiety rising the closer we get.

“He has a full-time sub named Benji. There are two other full-time dom/sub couples, then there are three single doms and two single subs. My understanding is that for these meetings, those singles typically pair up for scenes.”

“Scenes?” I ask.

“It’s the term they use to describe a planned BDSM encounter or activity. Sexual activity, power exchange, mutual kink. That kind of thing.”

“So… Do we have scenes?”

He smiles, his arm wrapping around my waist. “I think we do, though it’s not planned. This is one of the things I’ve left up in the air because I’m not truly comfortable in this role yet as far as how I’m supposed to conduct things, such as scenes.”

I frown. “I think the idea confuses me. I think I get it for, say, an… uh… episode? Can I call it that? An episode of, like, spanking. When it’s over, the scene ends, right?”

“Right.”

“But is that what we’re doing?”

“No. You and I toe the line of part-time and full-time, which makes the idea of a scene a little murky.”

“We toe the line because of hockey?”

“No. Remember? Hockey is an alternate universe. It doesn’t exist here, and we don’t exist there. We toe the line primarily because of the lack of consent in a thorough conversation where we talk about what that looks like.”

“I’m not questioning your judgment,” I begin, earning myself an amused smile, “but we need that conversation to happen in front of other people?”

He presses his lips to my cheek, and I can’t help but glance around to see who might have seen that. “No. We’re going because I need to feel confident in my role, in your role, and how that looks on a long-term basis. If that’s what you want?”

I nod without thinking. “Yes. I do.”

“I hoped so.”

“Did you doubt, Alpha?” I murmur, my voice automatically lowering to take into account those around us who might overhear.

I’m only a few inches shorter than Dasan, but the way he looks down at me has me feeling small. Not in a bad way. But in the way that I imagine someone—an alpha—would feel larger than life, making me feel small and fragile and needing his protection.

“No. I’m relatively confident that you and I are on the same page most days.”

My heart jumps. “Just most days,” I repeat.

“I feel your anxiety today,” he notes.

I wince. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll earn your trust.”

My flinch feels more like someone’s hit me and made me stumble a little with the force of it. “I do trust you. I swear.”

He presses his lips to my head where they remain for a few seconds.

It’s a strange feeling. I don’t feel… innocent, exactly, but I feel like I become far more…

young in nature when I let myself go to fully embrace being Dasan’s omega.

It’s not an age-play thing. That’s not what I feel.

But with youth comes a certain amount of innocence.

As if I’ve lost many of my life’s experiences and been transported to a more impressionable time.

I’m not sure that makes sense, but that’s what I equate this feeling to. When you’re young, and the thought of disappointing the person most important to you makes it difficult to breathe. All you want is their approval. Their smile. Their love.

This is a little different because we’re adults. I want all those things, but it’s no longer with the innocence of a child. It’s with a man for whom I want to be his sole source of… well, everything.

“Your heart is going to jump out of your chest, omega,” he says quietly, his voice almost a purr.

I take a deep breath and focus on getting my breathing under control. “I trust you,” I say. It’s true. It is. I trust Dasan more than anyone. “That doesn’t mean I’m not afraid. I’m here as proof of that. Despite my anxiety of being outed, I’m here.”

“You know, I agree that that’s a sign of your trust in me. However, we weren’t entirely talking about trust. We were talking about being on the same page. I need to learn from other doms, but I think you don’t care to learn from other subs.”

My mouth opens to argue, but… I think he’s right. I don’t really care about that. I chew the inside of my lip for a minute then shake my head. I don’t answer because I’m not sure how to answer. I guess I don’t see why I need to learn from others. Why can’t we just have our own thing?

I’m left feeling a little unbalanced as we get off the ferry onto Bane Island.

There’s a locker complex here where I see people depositing and picking up their phones.

I don’t take my hand out of Dasan’s, but I end up gripping it tighter.

My heart pounds, and no matter how much I try to convince myself that no one will take our picture and post it all over the internet, I can’t convince my brain that it won’t happen.

Especially not when we pass a large bulletin that serves as a warning to all non-Kala residents, reminding them that they’re now moving into a technology-permitted zone.

“You okay?” Dasan asks as we walk down the road. He appears to know where we’re going, for which I’m thankful. I can’t force my mind to concentrate on this route no matter how hard I try.

“Yes,” I answer.

“Do you need a warning about lying right now?”

I glance at him and shake my head. “You already know I’m anxious and afraid,” I point out. “Which means I think my ‘yes’ is a loophole since you already know, so beyond those two things I’m feeling, yes, I’m fine.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. I’m relieved when he picks up our linked hands and kisses the back of mine. I don’t know why exactly, but it allows me to take a deep breath. Maybe I thought he was angry with me, and that eased my mind a bit.

As we leave the area of the docks where restaurants and shops are, we’re deposited into what is clearly reminiscent of a suburban neighborhood. There are even kids here. Dasan weaves us along streets until he looks at the number on the mailbox and inclines his head.

“I haven’t seen a single car,” I note.

“Nope. I haven’t either.”

He squeezes my hand and leads me to the door. Oh god, I want to sink into the ground right now. What if someone in that house is a hockey fan?! They may not recognize me, but they might recognize Dasan. One innocent picture is all it’ll take to out us.

I’m fighting my internal panic when the door opens, bringing us face-to-face with a man that can only be described as a biker.

He’s big, hairy, covered in tats, and wearing a leather vest covered in patches, a leather collar, and leather pants over socked feet.

I haven’t seen a car on this island, but are there bikes?

“Hi,” he greets in his deep, rough voice. “You must be Dasan and Shively.”

Dasan nods. “Yes. Are you Miles?”

The man’s eyes widen. “Oh no! No. I’m Harvey, Master Emmett’s boy. Master Miles is out back. Come this way. I’ll lead you to him. You may take your shoes off at the door if you please.”

Dasan and I step inside and out of our shoes. We follow the big guy through a beautiful, airy house and onto the back porch. There’s a whole lot of people here, and I hold my breath, waiting for that telltale sign of recognition. A flash going off.

I’m distracted as the big Harvey kneels in front of someone that reminds me a lot of Noah Kain. There’s something soft and beautiful about him. His longer hair is up in two buns. He’s wearing a skirt and nothing else but some impeccably done makeup and nails.

He nods, pleased when Harvey kneels at his feet in the same fashion that I kneel at Dasan’s. Uh… wow.

I’m distracted from my distraction of the surprising scene when a man steps in front of us. He offers his hand to Dasan, likely having guessed right that I am not the dominant here. Maybe it’s my deer-in-the-headlights look as I take them all in.

“Dasan?” he asks.

Dasan inclines his head. “Yes. Miles?”

He smiles. “Yes. I’m Master Miles. Do you prefer Master Dasan or just Dasan?”

Dasan looks at me. “That depends. Who calls me master?”

Miles looks between us. “What does your boy call you?”

“My omega calls me alpha,” Dasan answers.

Miles smiles. “Very well.” He turns to the group, standing at Dasan’s other side and gesturing toward them.

“This is Master Mason with his boy Nika. Master Emmett with his boy Harvey. That there is Master Remy and Master Rory who are with their boy Esmond today. Master Alder is with his boy Caelum today. And that sweet little thing is my boy Benji. This is Alpha Dasan and his omega, Shively. They’re visiting us from Canada. ”

“Are there no meet-ups in Canada, sir?” Benji asks, tilting his head to the side as he studies us.

“I’m sure there are, but they’ve chosen to honor us with their company. That’s kind of them, isn’t it, boy?”

Benji nods, offering us a sweet smile. “Yes, sir. It is.”

Miles offers us a seat. Dasan pulls me along, taking the pillow from the chair and setting it on the ground at his feet when he sits. I drop to my knees, facing him at an angle, my cheeks burning. Holy fuck. There are people seeing this!

A buzzer goes off in the other room, and one of the other boys jumps to their feet. “Excuse me, sir,” he tells his alpha. Or… master.

“Go ahead, boy.”

“Why don’t you help Caelum finish the meal?” Emmett says to the giant Harvey.

“Yes, sir,” Harvey answers and gets to his feet. He flashes me a smile as he follows Caelum.

“I think that’s a great idea,” one of the other masters says, the one who shares his boy with another master. Their names began with R, I think. “How about all our boys file into the kitchen to help Caelum?”

Their boy gets to his feet, nodding as he says, “Yes, sir,” and follows. The other two follow, then all eyes are on me. I tense.

Dasan’s hand lands on the back of my neck.

I look up at him, and his smile calms me a little.

“Go ahead,” he says quietly, gently squeezing the back of my neck.

He leans down when I hesitate and murmurs, “You’re safe here, Shiv.

Look there.” I follow the nod of his head to find a basket filled with phones. “Our privacy is safe.”

I take a breath and let it out as I get to my feet. “Yes… Alpha?”

Dasan smiles and nods. “Correct. No sirs for me. Only for the other masters.”

I nod. I think that means I’m supposed to use that when they address me. Keeping my eyes down so I don’t have to try that, I head for the door the others left through and follow their voices and laughter until I find the kitchen.

My presence makes them pause as they watch me. God, this is weird.

I’m relieved when I’m met with a series of big smiles. “Hi,” Harvey says as he waves me over. I join them at the counter, and for a second, I see that three of the five are wearing collars. I glance at the other two, one of which was the first boy who jumped up when the buzzer sounded.

“We’re not owned,” Caelum says, obviously noting where I’m looking.

“Owned,” I repeat.

“Yes. We don’t have a committed dom. We’re… single, I suppose.”

“Oh.” I’m keenly aware of the absence of a collar around my neck right now. What does it mean that I don’t have one?

“My master says that you’re a new sub,” the one with Miles says. Was his name Ben or something?

I nod.

“That’s cool. What kinds of things do you do? What kind of sub are you?”

“Uh… I don’t know how to answer that.”

He laughs. “Okay, well. My relationship revolves around acts of service. Not just sexual but all kinds. Like cooking and laundry and house stuff. Nika is a brat, but be careful with that. It’s a conversation between you and your master.”

“Alpha,” Harvey corrects. “He has an alpha. Not a master.”

“Sorry,” Ben says.

“Acts of service,” I note. Do I do that?

“I’m a slave,” Harvey says, grinning. My breath catches. “It means I submit to any form of pain, anguish, punishment, or exercise that my master Emmett desires.”

I try to picture the Noah-like guy, and my eyebrows knit together. Nope. I can’t see that. Wow.

“Esmond is also a service sub,” Benji says.

“Yep,” Esmond agrees, flashing me a smile. “I’m Remy and Rory’s sub today because we thought you and your ma—alpha, I mean… might like to see a Dom switch. Rory is a switch, meaning that he also has some sub needs as well.”

“I didn’t know that was a thing,” I admit.

“Caelum is a Little,” Benji says, nodding in Caelum’s direction. “There’s a healthy Little community on the island too. He joined us today so you can see what a Little and Daddy look like.”

“Master Alder is being Daddy today,” Caelum says shyly. It’s only now that I’m standing in the kitchen with them that I realize he’s wearing a one-piece bathing suit with a shark in floaties on the front. The same exact suit a four-year-old might wear. Where did he even get one that fit him?

As I stare around the kitchen at them, I realize that maybe there is a whole lot I can learn. I don’t even know what a Little is, though from context, I think I can guess.