The Brat and the Master - a BDSM Erotic Novel by Aishling Morgan Read Free Book Online Page B

the girls were obliged to keep their nipples covered, if only with crosses of tape, and not a single one of the many fine bottoms he could see was fully bare. There was no equipment either, and Adam suspected than even putting Caroline across the knee for a spanking would be judged as inappropriate behaviour and draw down the wrath of the abundant security in the venue.
    ‘Look, it’s Mark,’ Elaine said, waving to the tall, leather-clad figure who stood at the bar with two girls in nothing but collars and matching underwear.
    Adam suppressed a groan. His time on London’s fetish scene had introduced him to a whole world of previously unimagined pleasures and freedoms, but it was not without its drawbacks. Chief among these was Mark Langley, Steelhand, whose condescending manner and casual assumption of superiority in all things had proved an almost constant irritation. Worse still, all of his other new friends, Elaine and Caroline included, looked up to the big man, accepting him as the kingpin of their social group without question.
    Steelhand spoke briefly to one of his companions, Della, a tall, slender girl with a permanently aloof expression, then strode across to their table. He kissed Elaine’s hand and gave Caroline a playful cuff before greeting Adam with a curt nod. The two of them had never really got on, with Adam unwilling to give the unquestioning respect Mark expected as his due – and declining his offer of training then soiling his leather coat had not made for the best of introductions.
    Both remained politely formal, even when sharing Caroline’s favours, which they had now done on several occasions. Adam had to concede too that Mark was the font of all knowledge when it came to fetish activities and without doubt a useful man to know.
    ‘Do you know anything about the people who’re running this, Mark?’ Elaine asked.
    ‘Everything I need to,’ Mark answered. ‘They’re called Open Field Enterprises and were set up back in the late ’80s to ruin raves. They’ve climbed on every bandwagon since. Keep your face covered, by the way. There are reporters about.’
    ‘Oh,’ Elaine answered with a nervous glance to one side. ‘We’d better stick to online names, then. Sorry, Steelhand, but …’
    ‘It doesn’t matter to me,’ he said, cutting in with a gesture of his hand, ‘although I might have to spank you for the lapse.’
    Adam saw Elaine stiffen, but she said nothing and Mark continued.
    ‘Just be careful who you talk to, that’s all. The News of the Screws may have been closed down but that doesn’t mean we’re safe.’
    ‘Would they really take the trouble?’ Adam asked doubtfully.
    ‘Not for you,’ Steelhand answered, ‘and probably not for Sappho, unless there was some sort of celebrity hook. Me, they wouldn’t dare.’
    ‘Why not?’ Adam asked.
    ‘Let’s just say that I was at Cambridge …’ said Steelhand.
    Adam made to reply to this, convinced that Mark was either a fantasist or an outright liar, but he could think of no way of proving his point and held back.
    ‘So, Mr Mistoffelees,’ Steelhand asked, ‘are you hoping to catch a kitty tonight?’
    ‘I think I’ll pass,’ Adam replied. ‘Somehow the atmosphere’s not quite right.’
    ‘You ought to try,’ Mark went on. ‘There’s a lot of talent out there, a lot of it new and some of it genuinely kinky, and it’s about time you brought in somebody. It’s not hard. In fact, I’ve just been talking to a little cutie myself. She should be joining us soon. Go on, give it a try. It’s not fair to rely too heavily on Lady Sappho’s indulgence, you know.’
    Again Adam made to answer but thought better of it, sure that anything he could say would only leave him looking mean or petty. As always with Steelhand, it was easier to go with the flow than to risk confrontation. Caroline had brought him a glass of red wine and he took a sip to hide his annoyance, only to discover that it tasted as if the