Fulfilled (3 page)

“Graham, not every woman in the world is submissive,” Mrs. A responded crossly. “I’m not, and yet you persist.”

“Ah, honey. But you do submit on occasion, and it makes it so much sweeter.”

Lois felt like she’d entered a new reality. Submissive. Like those women on the website. He thought
she
was submissive. Well, compared to Mrs. A, Lois was a veritable pushover. Except when it came to children. She was always the boss of them, if in a “mother knows best” way. But she could acknowledge she was possessed of a quiet, unassuming personality, always wanting to please. But submissive as in sexually? Surely one had to have sex to be that kind of submissive. Maybe it was part and parcel.

The Alexanders appeared to have resolved their disagreement when Lois turned her attention back to them. Mr. A smiled and patted her other hand.

“I might be overstepping here, Lois, but would you be interested in coming to an evening at our club?”

“Club? Like a BDSM club?” Lois heard herself ask the question for clarification while making an attempt to sternly admonish her prurient curiosity to take a back seat. Prurient curiosity won.

“Exactly. I admit I’m surprised you know about BDSM, but if you haven’t already packed and run screaming from this house, you might want to explore the Lifestyle.”

“Graham, give Lois a little time! Remember how you pushed me and how that nearly turned out.”

Mr. A gave his wife a look promising all kinds of excitement, and Lois threw caution to the winds. What would it be like to have someone look at
her
like that?

“I might,” she said cautiously. Oh, she was going to hell, if in good company. A ridiculous urge to laugh stole over her, and she gave into it. The Alexanders joined her after a startled moment. When the hilarity passed, Mr. A leaned back and stared at her again.

“Ask.”

He was a mind reader, too. “It’s really none of my business.”

“We’ll let you know if what you ask can’t be answered.”

Okay. Lois took a breath. “Are you one of those dominant guys?”

“I’m a Dom. Kennedy is my sometimes submissive.” The two again shared one of those moments they often had. The ones that made Lois feel she was missing something special, or at the very least wasn’t in possession of the key to the code.

“And uh, Nathan’s mother?” Probably not the smartest thing to ask, but Lois was beginning to put the pieces of some strange puzzle together.

Mr. A’s face tightened but he nodded. “I met her in the club, Club Pleasure.”

“And Mr. Payne?” Surely not that courtly older man.

“A visiting Dom. He met her there, too. There’re all kinds of Doms.”

Holy crap. “And your friends?” Was she the only so-called normal person in their circle?

“Some are, some aren’t. Most of them know our interests and are okay with it. You need to know, Lois, our motto is safe, sane, and consensual. There’s also a hard-core element, but we personally don’t subscribe to that. Not to say you can’t if you find it’s what you need. We don’t judge.”

Lois shivered. “I don’t know. It’s all too fast. And I’m kind of getting on in age.”

Mrs. A laughed her infectious chuckle. “Lois, dear. There are no age limits. It’s not all about sex, really. It’s a big part of it, but it’s about relationship and power exchange. Although I concede it makes the sex much better. There are so many layers. I’ve hardly scratched the surface, and I work for the club owner.”

Lois blinked. Mr. Morrison and his beautiful wife. They were married, too, and had a family. Layers. Now
that
she could handle. She was an excellent researcher and could learn all about the subject before she accompanied them to the club, this Club Pleasure. Then she sobered.

“I can’t leave Nathan.”

“You’ll be going with Graham, Lois. I’ll stay with our son.”

“But…” Lois shut up. It wasn’t her call who cared for Nathan. She needed to relinquish her intense need to care for the child she’d raised for eighteen months to his parents.

“Lois. I understand your attachment to Nathan. You’ll always be part of his life, you must know that. But maybe it’s time you got your own.”

She nearly hated Kennedy Alexander in that moment.
Truth will out, Lois.
Her mother’s acerbic voice battered her thoughts, and she fought against it even as she accepted it. She, Lois Wright, had no life. She’d been a caregiver from the time she could meet any of her mother’s needs and, by extension, her father’s. Then she moved right into the field of child care to take care of other people’s kids. Maybe she deserved something more. Just maybe.

“When?”

“This Friday night, Lois. Kennedy will show you some Internet sites to visit and answer your questions. What she can’t I will. Think of it as a study group.”

There was that sly wit of his. She’d witnessed it a lot but was rarely on the receiving end. A wall she hadn’t realized stood between them came tumbling down. “Thank you, Mr. Alexander.”

“First thing, Lois. It’s Graham and Kennedy. We’re past formalities, wouldn’t you say?”

Well, seeing other people’s private parts and sexual preferences probably qualified as informal. “Okay. Yes.”

She’d try.

The next few days flew by. Nathan likely sensed the heightened emotion and changing dynamics in the household because he was cranky and unsettled for a short time before returning to his sunny little self. He did gravitate more and more to Kennedy, and Lois encouraged him. He’d have a little sister in five months’ time and would have to share all the caring adults in his life, but she wasn’t really concerned. There was lots of love and attention to go around. Even if she didn’t take to this so called Lifestyle, Lois wasn’t going anywhere. She was calling her employers by their first names more often than not, and she supposed her increased comfort level had a bearing on her ability to let go of Nathan. If she wished for her own child, and she did, Lois didn’t share that with anyone. Kennedy likely guessed, but said nothing, merely included her in the discussions about the progress of baby number two, as well as all the things one did to prepare for a new arrival. Kennedy professed to get some comfort from talking with Lois. She was thrilled to be pregnant but scared, too, and didn’t have a mom. Lois was honored, if feeling ill equipped.

Lois read and researched BDSM. The more she understood it the more she thought it might well be for her. Graham explained the opportunity to be placed with a Dom of her own if she wanted that once she explored all the options. Lois tried to hide her irreverent mirth at the idea of a dating service via a sex club, but Graham naturally picked up on it. He truly missed very little when he focused on a person.

“You’re loosening up, Lois. I like it. We both do. I’m enjoying this other side to you.”

She smiled at him. “I like it, too, Graham. It still feels a bit awkward, but I’m actually more comfortable over all.”

“You made me feel a little incompetent as a father, Lois, even as I was grateful for your help. You’re very confident with Nathan.”

“And with my peers and librarians, museum curators maybe. But not with much else. I haven’t a clue in other social situations, having no experience whatsoever. So I just hang back and keep quiet, like a wallflower. That’s probably why you think I’m submissive.”

“That’s not why, Lois. I know subs. And Club Pleasure is hardly your average social situation, but at least we all play by the same rules. Are you ready to attend?”

“Kennedy has answered all of my questions, at least all I’ve come up with so far. I’m intrigued. Terrified, but intrigued. Theory is far different than practice. I learned
that
in college.”

“And look how well you translated it! Friday night then. Kennedy will help you choose appropriate clothes. You can observe a scene or two, meet a few people. There’s no rush. In fact it’ll probably take you awhile to decide. And then you’ll need to pass the membership tests before you can formally join. We’ll leave at nine.”

Graham wanted to make sure Nathan was settled before he left. It went without saying, and Lois liked him for it. “Fine.”

* * * *

She stared at the woman reflected in the mirror. Kennedy had perused her wardrobe and suggested she wear the pencil skirt and simple white wraparound blouse she wore when out with her staid acquaintances. Lois expected something different, something more va-va-voom, something she didn’t own, but was advised she was observing, not participating. If she chose at another time to connect with a Dom or request training, he would tell her what to wear, more often than not. Lois thrilled to the idea of someone taking care of her, making decisions for her. It made her excited and relieved somehow. She was tired of taking care of herself and everyone else in her life, although she wouldn’t be able to totally erase her care-giving self. It was a bit of a conundrum. She wondered if there was a way to strike a balance.

The only significant change in her appearance was her hair. Kennedy insisted she wear it up in a fairly complicated style she’d never hope to replicate, instead of in its usual no-nonsense braid. Lois brushed it until the mousy blonde shone with subdued highlights and thought maybe she looked okay. The other changes were subtle. Her eyes looked bigger, full of anticipation, and there was a flush of hectic color across her cheekbones. Even her lips looked fuller, more relaxed. Could this be anticipation? Excitement? It was an interesting feeling. Kennedy suggested she not bother with makeup, as she usually didn’t use any, aside from lip gloss.

“Ready?” Graham rapped on the doorframe, and she and Kennedy both jumped. He was wearing those leather pants with the boots she remembered and a snowy-white shirt. Kennedy crossed to him and went up on tiptoe to offer her lips. He bent to accommodate her, looping an arm around her waist, and Lois thought they should get a room.

“You take care of her, Graham. And I don’t know why you feel the need to wear your leathers!”

Lois heard the lack of censure in Kennedy’s voice, heard the teasing. So did Graham, who winked at her over his wife’s head.

“You never know if Patrick might need an extra pair of hands or something in the dungeon, honey.”

“Your leathers won’t protect you if you pull that crap, Gray.” Kennedy morphed from sweet, teasing wife into threatening, possessive wench in an instant.

“And there’s my girl.” Graham kissed her again, and Kennedy clung to him. “Later, sweetheart. Don’t wait up. I promise to wake you and tell you all when I get home, but you get your rest. Baby brat is making you tired.”

Lois immediately felt guilty. Kennedy was pregnant, exhausted, and being left at home to watch Nathan while she went to a sex club.

“Enough, Lois.” Graham deepened his voice and fixed those silver eyes on her. Lois looked at Kennedy for a split second before nodding hard in compliance.

“Let me find those shoes for you, Lois.” Kennedy hurried down the hall. They wore the same size in footwear despite the disparity in body type. Kennedy was small and curvy. She was just small.

Lois ducked her head and followed. Graham chuckled behind her, and she knew she heard him mutter
submissive
under his breath. And he wasn’t talking about his wife. Kennedy returned with a pair of red stilettos, and Lois gingerly stepped into them. She instantly felt the difference. Librarian, meet slut.

“Good choice, honey. We’ll see you later.”

Lois impulsively hugged Kennedy and stepped back in haste, casting a look at Graham.

“S’okay, Lois. Graham doesn’t have those kinds of fantasies. Because I don’t.”

She was so not going there. She pretended to smooth her skirt while her employers kissed yet again, and then Graham was opening the door and escorting her through it. He helped her into the truck, and if it wasn’t for her turbulent anticipatory thoughts, Lois would have remarked on his courtliness. She felt no sexual interest in Graham per se, or in Kennedy, so thought she was probably a voyeur if any label applied. Although she didn’t think about that evening in their bedroom if she could help it. Much.

The drive was comfortably silent and went quickly. When Graham pulled up in front of a tall building close to downtown, Lois scrutinized it as best she could in the street lighting. She had no idea what a BDSM club should look like, but this one fit in with the surroundings, and she’d have walked past it without a second glance. Graham spoke to the man on the door who agreed to park the car and introduced her to him. He wasn’t overly tall, but he was immensely broad, his chest and forearms covered in some remarkable tattoos, some of them quite shockingly beautiful. His glance slipped over her in a practiced manner, and Lois shivered. It was both blatant and assessing, almost leisurely, before he nodded. Maybe it was a test.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Alain.” The librarian spoke with learned civility. The slut was terrified.

Maurice smiled at her, a remarkably sweet smile for such a bad boy. “Likewise.”

He held the door for them after pocketing Graham’s keys. Graham preceded her, and Lois realized she’d been relegated to a submissive role as soon as they crossed the threshold. It amused her in a distant way, but the skittering of her heart in her throat was front and center, vying with the loud, pounding beat of the music. Graham led the way into a large room filled with different seating arrangements and stopped by one configuration of two chairs and a little table. He gestured to one chair, and Lois obediently sat. It was nice not having to wonder what to do, where to go, where to sit, how to act. She knew people were looking at her, and she surreptitiously peeked around from under her lashes. She didn’t have that awkward feeling, that
look at the geeky woman who just came in
feeling she often had in social situations. She was under Graham’s protection and felt content.

There were a few couples in the room, and one woman sitting between two men on a large couch against the far wall. All were engrossed in one another. The man on the right of the woman in the middle stroked her hair, and she leaned into him, her eyes closed and lips parted. The other man palmed her knee. It wasn’t overtly sexual, yet it was. It made Lois’s nipples bead and her sex tingle. There were three men dressed similarly to Graham. One of them was perched on the arm of a chair with his back to her, while the others leaned against the wall. The single men were all looking at her, and they weren’t hiding it. The one sitting twisted around to stare. He had a quality about him, something she tried hard to place. She considered, and then figured it was his casual arrogance and confidence. Not overdone and reassuring somehow. Interesting. She rarely looked at men, but now her horizons had widened and—