Manwhore 2: The Ferro Family (2 page)

As I watch the last delicious strike of the rod, I notice tears streaming silently down the bottom’s cheeks. She may enjoy the idea of being a bottom—a submissive—but Club Noir isn’t her thing. It stuns me how many people wander in here, how many people will go this far for someone else when they can’t bear it.

I’m a different story. I want something to feel, something that makes sense to me. I understand this. It’s action and reaction. It also forces the bottom—the person in the slave role—to learn how to conceal their emotions. The master is called the ‘top’ here. The patrons flip roles between ‘tops and bottoms,’ doing whichever they please, and it sounds a little less scary than, ‘dominant and submissive.’ The actions are far from cute, though. Being a bottom isn’t for everyone, but it helped me hide the horrors that were so evident on my face all those years ago.

I order a cocktail and lean back in my chair. After it’s gone, I shuck my leather coat, revealing my collar, leather bralette and mini skirt, and shiny black thigh high boots. It’s warm in here.

The music pulses and the golden lights flash. The stage curtain drops.

Claire rushes up behind me, whispering, “When it's your turn, are you taking me with you? I don’t think I can do that.” She's visibly shuddering and turning a shade of green. I feel sorry for her.

“You should go home,” I say firmly.

“I can’t.”

“I won't do anything with you or to you. I only signed me up. You just stand by the wall all night. When you can’t stand anymore, leave.” I speak sternly, not looking her in the eye until the end.

Claire nods and resumes her position at the wall behind me. We watch another couple and then a trio. The hour passes quickly. I head to the back room to get ready and meet my partner. We need to go over any rules or safe words ahead of time. Most people have a firm line they won’t cross. If we don’t talk about it before time, there’s no way to know when to stop.

As I head to the backstage area, I see a couple doing more than they should. I look away, rushing past them. Sex in public spaces is a no-no. Sex, in general, is a no-no here. The owner will kill them when she finds out. And she will find out.

I walk into the women’s changing room. It’s decorated with soft silvers and shades of gray with lots of mirrors and warm light. There are white locking cubbies to store my things. One wall has costumes hanging on a long silver rod running the entire length of the wall. There are sheer dresses, revealing lingerie, harnesses, and more. Anything you could possibly want to put on the perfect show. And the price tags that dangle from each indicate they cost more than my weekly check.

I can take anything I want--Level Nine perk--but decide to remain in the clothes I’m wearing. I sit down in front of a mirror and braid my hair so that it’s not falling in my face. As I do so, I hear the other women in the room talking.

A brunette with ample cleavage dusts blush across her cheek and then says, “I didn’t see him either, but Angie said he’s here.” Her accent is thick, like the water in Jersey.

There’s another woman next to her, spraying enough hairspray to form a lingering cloud. Her accent is dually thick. “Lots of guys are here, but not too many leave the main floor.”

“I’m not new! He’s in the waiting room. Can you imagine? Sean Ferro on stage!” She’s giddy.

I drop my hairbrush and jump up quickly.

He is not.

He did not.

I’m going to…

I
WANT TO SCREAM
. I rush out of the changing room and race down the hallway to the waiting area. Sean’s standing there, shirtless, with dark slacks and a belt around his narrow waist. In the golden light, the muscles of his back are defined perfectly under smooth pale skin.

I walk up behind Sean and shove him hard. “What the hell?”

Sean turns around and looks at me. “No touching, Miss Driskill. We’re following my rules tonight.”

“The hell we are!”

Sean watches me, his face devoid of emotion as he calmly steps closer. I step back. “You know how this goes. Unless you want to lose face in front of your peers, you’ll do as I tell you.”

“You asked for me? What’d you do, follow me inside?” I go to shove him again, but he grabs my wrists. When I try to jerk away, he leans in close, tugging me until we are nose-to-nose.

“I left. When I returned, I signed in downstairs--where I remained until a few moments ago. They didn’t tell me which bottom I was with, so stop acting like you matter. You don’t.” He tosses my hands back and steps away.

I stand there, stunned, jaw hanging open for half a beat before I snap it shut again. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Then pay the penalty and move on.” There’s no trace of anger in his voice. It’s simply gone.

Sean pads away from me, and I notice he’s barefoot. I don’t want him like this, not here. I need to make him leave. I pull out the only thing I can think of. “They will crucify you in court. You can’t do this and walk away. You can’t go onto the stage, subdue a woman, and whip her! You shouldn’t be doing any public anything right now. What’s wrong with you? You’re a smart man--you should understand this is suicide!” I’m practically yelling, and my hands are waving around like a crazy person.

He arches a dark eyebrow at me. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“Then let's go over the rules and get out there. What’s your safe word?”

I stare at him, shocked. I’m too surprised to think, so the word tumbles out. “Aardvark.”

Sean looks down at me and laughs. “Seriously?”

“You won’t hear it again, so don’t bother teasing me about it. Listen, if you want to walk away, I won’t report it. Actually, I can cover it up. Everyone saw me walk in with a newbie. I’ll show her a few things, and she can take your spot. I’ll say it was a computer glitch.”

Sean steps toward me. I slide away again. He takes another step, and I back away once more. We do it a few more times until my back hits the wall. Sean presses against me, close enough to whisper in my ear, “I don’t need your help.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m already dead, remember? I’m a monster. It’s time I show the world who I really am and stop denying it.”

My stomach twists as he throws those words in my face. It’s as if he knows I’m the one who started those rumors. I grab his wrist and yank him in the other direction, but he won’t move. I growl. “Fine. If you want to be a dumbass and do it in front of as many people as possible, follow me into the web room.”

He hesitates. “The room with the live feed?”

I tug again. “That’s the one. I have a very pretty mask, and they have very elaborate dungeon sets. You can pick your torture chamber and set it free on the Internet.”

Sean nods as if determined and follows me down the hall. All of the doors are unmarked, or this wouldn’t work. I have no idea what I’m going to do once I get him inside, but I can’t let him do this. I have to try something.

When we come to the door, I swipe my keycard. It’s the only thing that will open the lock from either side. I hold the door open and am grateful there’s only one dim glowing red light inside. “There’s no going back.”

Sean turns and looks at me, equally stubborn and committed. I hold the door open and gesture for him to walk inside. As he passes me, I hold my keycard behind my back, fold it in half, and press hard. It snaps. I drop it to the floor and step inside, allowing the door to lock behind me.

S
EAN PADS
to the center of the room and turns slowly, the red light spilling over his pale skin like blood. He stands beneath the bare bulb, shirtless. His chest rises with each breath and makes me notice his taut nipples.

As our eyes adjust to the dim light, it becomes increasingly evident we are not in the web room. Though now used for storage, this room was once a Level Nine playroom. The walls and ceilings still boast their original racks, but now hang full of out of date and infrequently used items. The old grates now have handcuffs, satin ribbons, rope, and other bindings hanging down from the grid.

His jaw tightens, and he steps toward me. “You did this on purpose.”

I stand my ground. “Yes. You’re behaving erratically.”

He says nothing. His eyes bore into me, filling me with ice. I can’t see the depths this time. I can’t read him at all. Pulse hammering in my ears, I explain. “There are better ways to control your emotions. Saying fuck it and making sure the world sees you’re the monster they think you are will backfire.”

“How?” His strong arms fold over his firm chest. He’s listening. And angry.

“Because they’ll get hung up on the sexual acts. They’ll think less of you, not be more frightened. You crave power and control. But if you make your actions at Club Noir public, no one will fear you. They’ll think you’re a deviant, and that’s all.”

He’s closer now, inching toward me. He towers above me, and I know this was stupid. It’s probably some sort of misplaced guilt about labeling him as a monster in the first place. He wouldn’t be setting himself on fire and showing the world if I hadn’t made the world think it first.

He watches me from beneath thick, dark lashes. “No, they won’t.”

I insist. “Yes, they will. But, if you keep it a secret, if no one knows, you can control everything. You can have moments of peace, retain power, and keep the world wondering how much they should fear you. That’s the better plan.”

“How often do you come here?” The shift in his tone is noticeable. He’s no longer playing defense. Something changed.

My mouth hangs open. “I, uh, not much. Not recently.”

He nods and steps away. Sean slips his hands into his pockets and hangs his head. He paces as he speaks. “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time. I’ve had images in my mind, things that I feel in my arms, in my hands, that I need to do. It’s not a want, Miss Driskill, it’s a need. I feel like I’m suffocating and you’re the only one who sees it.” He turns on his heel and glances up at me.

My stomach dips as my heart pounds harder. My skin prickles all over as if something bad were about to happen. Sean steps toward me one pace at a time, and says, “Tell me what to do.” He stops in front of me and waits.

Shaking my head, I laugh nervously and step away. Hands up, palms toward him, I back away another step. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do.” He steps closer.

“I don’t.”

I step away until my back hits the empty metal rack bolted to the wall. The steel bars feel like ice on my bare skin. I swallow hard as Sean takes one hand and then the next and holds them on either side of my head, pressing lightly. “Teach me how to forget what I’ve seen. I know you can do it. I know you figured out how to wash the memories away. That’s all I want, a moment without seeing her body covered in blood. A moment without—” he swallows hard, sucking in air and forcing his chest to press against mine. “Without hearing her beg me to come home. I want to forget what happened to us that night, what I lost. Because I lost everything and no matter what the trial outcome is, it’s my fault. This nightmare never ends. My mind never stops thinking of things I could have done differently. If I’d called, if I'd taken her away, if I’d—”

I can’t stand it anymore. The pain within him pierces his voice, ripping him apart in front of me. Every moment he breathes, he’s in agony. I understand because I live the same lie. I look serene on the outside, but there’s only turmoil within.

I pull my wrist out of his grip and press my finger to his lips. “I get it. I wish I didn’t, but I do.”

In that moment, I feel it. This mutual understanding is the footing of friendship. It could turn into something, but I know it can’t. Not with him. He’s trying so hard to forget who he is and what he’s endured that there will be nothing left of him if he goes through with this.

“Then teach me what you do. I’ve seen you in court. I‘ve seen you smiling and acting like nothing weighs you down. I know that’s not true, so how do you find solace?”

It’s like he punched me in the stomach. The part of me that I try so hard to hide is completely visible to him. “I’m not sure I can teach you what you want to know. I’m a ghost of who I was before. Part of it is letting yourself wither. If you have no soul, it doesn’t hurt as much.”

He nods and then steps back. “I died with Amanda. I’m not looking for healing—I just want to survive living.”

It’s becoming more evident that I’m going to be with him. That’s what he’s asking me, to show him how to find a sexual escape. If I do this, if anyone finds out about my being with Ferro, I’ll never work again. At the same time, I remember being where he is, so close to the event and still feeling so raw. I wanted that period of my life to vanish, and it took so long to figure out how to make that happen.

Sean steps toward me and falls to his knees. He lowers his head, making it clear he’s submitting to me. “Please, Paige…help me.”

The words, the way he pleads so softly, decides it for me. I breathe his name as he kneels at my feet. I’ve never felt so powerful before in my life. The great Sean Ferro is at my feet, begging me for help. It should fill me with pride and make me feel powerful, but it doesn’t. The reason why is simple—no matter what I do, I can’t heal his heart.

W
E START
with the simple things, after stripping him and going over the rules. He says he has no limits, no hard lines. I don’t press him. As he stands there wearing absolutely nothing, it’s difficult not to look at him. Normally, I wouldn't, but he’s so beautiful. Every inch of his body is perfect. If I keep thinking about it I won’t be able to do this. It’s not about sex—it’s about control.

I grab a pair of handcuffs and reach for Sean’s wrist. His lips part and he breathes slowly. I feel his eyes on the side of my face as I reach up and cuff him to the overhead grate. As I work, my arm brushes against his cheek and I wish I could kiss him.

Ignore the naked part. Humiliation is part of being the bottom. He’s naked, and I’m not. It’s not sexual, at least it’s not supposed to be, but I feel so pulled to him. I scold myself and try to snap out of it.

I don’t blindfold him because I need to see his face. I go over a few basics that pertain to me and then add, “Do not speak unless I tell you to. Do you understand?”