Chapter 9: A Man Who Likes to Be in Control

The drive to the city was a long one, and after dropping his sister, niece, and nephew at the airport, Blake made a couple of stops to pick up a few needed supplies before heading back to Lake Miranda. He arrived back at the lodge in the late afternoon.

Rather than going to his place, he let himself into the main lodge and reheated some left-over spaghetti. He carried that and a cup of coffee out to the back deck overlooking the dock and the lake. He sank onto a lounge chair and ate his spaghetti, watching across the water.

There was still no sign of life on the island. He wondered what she was doing. Shaking his head, he went back inside to wash his dishes. He watched a little television on the satellite but grew restless, wandering back out onto the deck. It was fully dark now and there were still no lights on the island.

Do you suppose she’s okay? Surely she didn’t do anything stupid. She was pretty mad yesterday. Could she have gone somewhere? Blake’s mind raced with possibilities. If she’d turned on the propane and not been able to light the lights or the stove for some reason… Maybe I should go out there and check.

He snorted and shook his head. That’s just what she wants me to do, come check on her, give her another chance to play on my sympathies. No way. Not going to happen. “Sorry, princess, this is one man you won’t control.”

And he was right about that. Blake Walker was a man who liked to be in control, craved it, really. Back in his cabin, he poured himself a glass of bourbon, took a well-worn book from the shelf in his living room, and sank into an overstuffed leather chair that faced the glass doors to the deck, offering a wide view of the lake.

With a sense of familiar comfort, he idly flipped through the pages. He smiled, recalling the day that his friend Scott had handed him a copy of the same book. Scott Nielsen, a tall muscular outdoorsman with Nordic-looking features, wore a neat goatee and kept his long blond hair in a braid down his back most of the time. He had been Blake’s supervisor at the wilderness school. In fact, he’d been head counselor when Blake had been a neatly-shorn client.

After Blake had joined the staff, he’s followed Scott’s lead, growing his dark beard and allowing his hair to reach shoulder length. Their friendship had stemmed out of a sense of camaraderie and similar personalities.

That particular day, their discussion had returned to the fact that Blake rarely ever went out, preferring to spend his off time working around the camp.

“I don’t know,” he’d stalled when Scott had once again broached the topic of dating. “I just don’t really know what I want. It seems like it would be a waste of time.”

Scott had shaken his head. “I’m talking about a date, not marriage. The hardest decision you’d have to make is whether or not you want to fuck after dinner.”

“Still, I’m good for now, man.” Blake had known that he should try. It wasn’t as if he had felt some obligation to Faith’s memory, although there might have been a little of that. But on the few occasions he had gone out, something about it had felt…off-kilter. He had known better than to try to explain what he himself didn’t understand.

Scott had disappeared, returning moments later. “Here.” He’d tossed a paperback book to Blake. “Read this and see what you think,” Scott had said cryptically.

Now, in his cabin on the lake, Blake glanced at the cover of the book in his hands. The Gentleman Dominant. The book had changed his life.

The night had Scott loaned him the book, Blake had devoured the entire thing before dawn. The words he’d read resonated with him, had validated his instincts. Finally, everything he felt had made sense.

First thing in the morning, Blake had sought out Scott. “That book. What made you give it to me?”

Scott had watched him thoughtfully. “You remind me of me. You’re Dominant. That’s why trying to date in the vanilla world doesn’t feel right to you.”

After that, the two had shared many in-depth conversations, Blake asking all sorts of questions while Scott had patiently answered each one. Several weeks later, during a week-long break between camp sessions, Scott had taken Blake to a club in Toronto.

It had been in a nondescript building in a downtown neighborhood. After passing through security, Scott had led them into a large open room. It had been dimly lit and painted a dark color, though Blake hadn’t been able to tell if it had been black or blue or grey. Sheer white fabric had been draped on the walls, giving the place a harem feel. Conversation groupings of comfortable leather furniture had been scattered around the edges of the space and there’d been a bar at the far end of the room. Loud music had permeated the space, the beat pulsing slowly, with sensual instrumental flow.

Blake had endeavored not to stare at the men and women who moved through the room, some standing in small groups, others seated and watching the action. Some of the patrons had been dressed as he and Scott were, nice jeans paired with dress shirts, open at the collar. Others had been wearing fetish gear, all leather and spikes. Some of the women had worn lingerie, and one or two had been nearly nude.

“Everyone here is either a member, or a guest of a member,” Scott had explained. “It’s pretty relaxed, but there are a few rules. Don’t speak to someone else’s sub. You can tell the ones that are unattached—they don’t wear collars.”

Blake had glanced around and had noticed a man leading a scantily dressed woman with what looked like a dog leash. The pair had stopped at a chair where the man sat. The woman knelt on the floor by the man’s feet.

Scott had laughed at Blake’s expression. “I know. Right now, you feel like you’re in over your head. Let’s get a drink and look around a little, see if we can find something you like.”

Sipping a bourbon, Blake had followed his friend through the club. Scott had pointed out a group of unattached submissive women seated in a corner. They’d been chatting quietly among themselves.

Up a flight of stairs, the atmosphere had been different. The space had been divided into sections, each defined by three walls, the open side allowing for a small audience to gather and watch the proceedings in each scene. The smaller spaces had been outfitted with various types of furniture. In the first one, Blake had recognized a St. Andrews cross from the photos in the book. A large naked man had been strapped to it, face first, and a woman in black leather had been using a crop to mark his ass. Blake had pulled a face and Scott had chuckled, leading them onward.

In the next space, a man had been using rope to bind a beautiful nude woman. She’d knelt as he’d woven the rope into intricate designs on her body. He’d paused occasionally to kiss her neck and speak to her softly. Blake had been mesmerized by the fluid motions and by the intimacy the two seemed to share.

Scott had laughed again. “Okay, we’re getting warmer.”

A few spaces down, a man had been seated in a rolled arm leather chair. A woman dressed in a sheer pink nightie had been face down across his lap. Blake had watched as the man had drawn up the nightie, pulled down her pink panties, and had begun to spank her. He’d covered her ass with quick, sharp pops that had quickly turned her pale moons bright pink. After every few smacks, he’d smoothed his hand over her cheeks, then had started again. After the second round, the man had moved his fingers to the tender pink lips that had peeked out between her cheeks, rubbing them sensually. The woman had groaned with pleasure.

Blake’s cock had been on board with the proceedings, stretching painfully against his jeans. When he’d turned, Scott had been grinning at him. “I think I know where we start with you. Let’s go back downstairs.”

While Blake had headed to the bar to get more bourbon for both of them, Scott had gone to speak to the group of submissives they’d seen earlier.

“I think you’re going to like this,” Scott had said as he accepted his glass from Blake. “Look at the cute brunette over there in the blue baby-doll nightie.”

Blake had looked over Scott’s shoulder to see the entire group looking their way. The woman Scott had indicated had smiled shyly.

“She’s a ‘little.’ I think she’ll be the right fit for your first time here.”

Blake’s stomach had performed a small flip. “I don’t know. Maybe for my first time here I should just look around.”

Scott had clapped his shoulder. “You’re Dominant. You’ve got this. Just remember what you’ve read and go with your instinct. All you have to do is go up to her and hold out your hand.”

Blake had blown out a breath. “Okay. I can do this.”

“That’s the way. Now, I’m going to find myself a lovely sub. See you later.”

Blake had watched Scott disappear into the crowd. Then he’d turned back to the women across the room. As he had approached them, their conversation had stopped, and they had all turned their eyes to the floor.

Blake had cleared his throat. “Sub?”

Her eyes still on the floor, the brunette had answered. “Yes, Sir.”

He’d arched his eyebrow the way he would have with an unruly camper. “Come.” He’d held out his hand and she’d grasped it.

“Yes, Sir.”

Holding her hand, Blake had led her to a single leather chair facing away from the crowded room. He’d sat and indicated for her to kneel at his feet. The woman had sunk to her knees and had bowed her head, resting her hands, palms up, on her thighs.

“Good girl,” he’d murmured.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she’d responded.

Blake had sat and sipped his bourbon, trying to wrap his head around what was happening. A beautiful young woman had been willingly and happily kneeling at his feet. She would undoubtedly have done anything he asked. Suddenly, the responsibility of being Dominant, of caring for a submissive, had dawned on him. He’d gently smoothed her hair.

Shyly, she’d looked up at him. “Daddy?”

“Yes, kitten.” His automatic response had surprised him.

“May I please suck your cock?”

Blake’s eyes had widened. He’d quickly replaced his surprised look with another arched eyebrow. “Have you been a good girl?”

“Oh, yes, Daddy! I’ve been very good.”

He’d nodded. “Alright, then.”

She’d giggled. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Happily, she’d reached up to undo his belt and unzip his jeans, reaching in to release his enthusiastic erection. Looking up at him, she’d lapped up the pre-cum pearl that had pooled at the top of his head. “Umm, yummy, Daddy!”

When she’d taken the whole of him in her mouth, Blake had allowed his head to loll back, and he’d groaned softly. He’d known he wouldn’t last. It had been a long time between drinks, and she had worked him mercilessly, circling him with her tongue, working his most sensitive spots, applying the right amount of suction. His moment had built, and he’d grunted as he’d sent hot jets of his essence streaming down her throat.

After she’d licked him clean, she’d smiled up at him triumphantly. “Thank you, Daddy.”

He’d smiled down at her. “Thank you, kitten. You did a very good job.” He’d held out his hand to her. “Would you like to cuddle on Daddy’s lap for a while?”

She’d beamed up at him. “Yes, Daddy, I sure would.”

Blake had patted his thigh and she’d scrambled up, curling her body into his chest, tucking her head beneath his chin. He’d wrapped her in his arms and sighed contentedly. This. This was what he had longed for. He’d gently rocked her as he’d murmured softly into her ear.

Too soon, Scott had reappeared, flashing Blake a knowing smile. “The club closes in a while. Are you about ready to go?”

Blake had hugged the sub and had placed a kiss on her temple as he’d set her gently on her feet.

“It was nice meeting you,” she’d said. “Maybe I’ll see you around here again.”

Blake had nodded. “Maybe so. And it was nice.”

Scott had waited until they were driving back to the camp. “So? How did it go?”

Blake had tried to suppress a smile. “It was good.”

Scott had smirked at him.

“It was really good.”

“I knew it! I knew you were a Daddy Dom. It’s always the big burly guys.”

“What kind of Dom are you?”

Scott had shrugged. “Whatever kind strikes my fancy at the moment. I like to play in all kinds of ways. Which is why I don’t settle down with one girl. You, on the other hand, could settle down with a ‘baby girl’ in a New York minute.”

Now, in his cabin on the lake, Blake smiled at the memory. That first visit to the club had led to several more, and he’d finally become a member in his own right. He had watched the Daddy Doms he met there, had studied their techniques in spanking and in relating to their submissives. It had been surprising to discover that his own pleasure increased as he’d learned to pleasure the women with whom he played.

He had learned to use cuffs, ropes, and other tools in a safe and gentle manner, and he had learned to use impact play safely. He’d even spent more time with the brunette submissive and with several other littles. After moving back to the lodge, he’d retained a limited membership that allowed him a certain number of visits per year.

Outside of the club, it hadn’t been easy to meet submissive women. He’d met one or two online, and while the sex had been everything he’d expected, it had essentially been contractual. He’d also befriended a D/s couple in town and occasionally they introduced him to women they’d met. Never, though, had he found that intimate emotional connection with a submissive woman, a ‘little’ who’d allow him to be the Daddy he craved to be.

If Blake was being honest with himself, his experience the previous day with Shasta Pyke had done nothing but rekindle his desire. She was a little girl in need of a Daddy if he’d ever seen one. Her petulance, her attempts at manipulation, her temper…

That little girl needed a spanking. He’d said as much when he’d left her on the island, and almost regretted it. It was not something she’d understand.

He sighed to himself and stared out into the night.