Chapter 5

Jasim

Entering Club Tiacapan I feel, like always, as if I’ve thrown off the shackles of the daily grind and that, just for a little while, I can leave the real world to go fuck itself. My sense of pride in what I, and my partners, have achieved swells through me as I make my way across the main room, hearing sounds of pleasure and pain as the members enjoy their proclivities in a safe and secure environment. Anyone with the money can play here. We have senior politicians and judges, CEOs of major companies of both sexes and with whatever leanings. Who cares if a crown court judge likes to be submissive in his or her free time? To let go of all that pent-up stress if just for a while? No one gives a damn. Not here.

And it’s not only the rich and famous who come to play. There are little known, but well used, membership options for those who deserve it, and for those who pay it back to the club in other ways. A construction engineer involved with our recent extension, or Diamond, a girl with such deeply ingrained submissive tendencies that it would be nigh on criminal to deny her a safe place to play.

Then there’s a number of operatives from Grade A. As two of my co-owners are also partners in the security firm, any of their staff can join for a greatly reduced membership fee. It leads to a healthy balance of Dominants and submissives, and others with varying kinks.

Heading to the bar I find, as it seems nearly always, Master Ralph. He makes his money on the stock exchange, by day staring at screens and calculating odds and having millions pass through his hands. By night he comes here to play, and to tend bar, finding enjoyment in simple interaction with like-minded friends.

“Master J! Looking like a good night.”

Turning my back to him, I lean against the bar and survey my kingdom set out before me before saying over my shoulder, “It is that, Master Ralph.”

“All dungeon monitors are on duty.” In his position at the back of the room, Ralph has a clear view of what’s going on. “And your brother’s here! Was good to catch up with him, and to meet his lovely wife. He’s taken a leaf out of Master K’s book I see.”

Moving my attention to the suspension rig which takes up most of one wall, I see Nijad binding Cara, preparing to hoist her into the air. In comparison to most, and to my relief, she’s very modestly dressed, with all the important parts covered. As I watch, I see my brother expertly attaching carabiners to the ropes he’s bound her with, getting ready to raise her up. Even from here I can sense his wife’s complete surrender and utmost trust in her Dom as illustrated by her winsome smile, her open mouth, and her closed eyes. Nijad’s standing tall, his back ramrod straight, pride in his sub on plain view. Feeling pleasure on their behalf, that my investment, my club, has given them that, the opportunity to play and experiment with equipment not readily available to them elsewhere. And now Cara’s high into the air, and turning slowly as she hovers above the ground. She’ll be deep in subspace by now, everyday concerns and worries left far behind. And Nijad’s full focus will be solely on her.

“They’ve got a private room booked.”

“I know, Ralph. And I think they’ll be needing that soon,” I chuckle, as I turn back to the barman. “Give me an orange juice, will you?”

“Playing tonight?”

“I might very well.” My cock’s been half hard since I dropped Janna off, and I need something to clear my head and get her out of my mind. My eyes scan the room, taking in the familiar equipment and then alighting on the available subs, seated off to one side. Just when I’m thinking of who I might approach, a meaty hand slaps me on the back, almost splashing the drink I’ve just picked up out of my hand.

“Jon, you bugger! Might have guessed it was you.” We exchange man hugs, and then I pull his wife in for a hug. “Mia! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Thought I’d wait until I stopped breastfeeding my daughter. Leaking boobs wouldn’t be a good sight in the club.”

I can’t stop the grin coming to my face, “This is a kink club, sweetheart. Ouch! Jon, man, can’t you control your wife? Mia, you know what happens when you’re violent.”

Mia’s eyes have opened wide, “I barely touched you.”

Jon’s chuckling, “Doesn’t matter, Mia, love. See that spanking bench over there? I reckon that’s got your name on it.”

As he points to it, I’m amused to see his wife’s eyes lighting up. Yeah, they’ll be having fun and making up for lost time tonight. As Jon lifts his chin, signalling his intention to bag the free bench before anyone else does, I touch him on his arm, “Jon, it looks like I might be going back to Amahad soon.”

His eyebrows rise, “Another quick in and out?”

“Not this time. Longer. Perhaps a month, maybe two.”

“Didn’t expect that.” He knows my aversion to going back home. Tapping his fingers on his chin, he realises why I’ve told him. “You want close protection?”

“Might need it. I’ll be travelling to the oil fields.” I’ll have Amahadian guards when I go into the desert, but will feel more comfortable with the anti-abduction skills that the experts on Jon’s team can provide. Particularly when at the back of my mind I have the niggling worry my elder brother might employ methods the last emir might have used to force to get me to stay in the country. He’s got many options. He could rescind my diplomatic status, revoke my passport... I suppress a shudder at the thought of what, to me, would be worse than death. Yeah, an independent bodyguard might be needed to protect me from my own family. I trust someone from Grade A to have the resources to get me out of the country whatever happens.

I watch as he contemplates what I’ve told him, then slowly he nods, “I’ll speak to Ben. Let us know your schedule and I’ll sort something out.”

“Thanks, mate.” And with that, I let him go, my mouth quirking as he leads a protesting Mia over to the spanking bench. Her complaints on her part all a ruse, her brattish behaviour to wind up her Dom.

“Master J?” A seasoned submissive comes running up to me. I watch her boobs as they almost bounce out of her corset. Hmm, her approach is a bit hurried, but maybe I could play with her tonight? And punish her for approaching a Dom uninvited.

I feel myself starting to grin as I consider an appropriate chastisement, and take a second to compute what she says.

“There’s a telephone call for you.”

Damn, I’d misread why she’d addressed me, “Thank you, Angel.” Leaving the main room, I go to my office out back. No one, not even me, takes a mobile phone into the club. It’s not unheard of for me to get calls here, but also not common. Usually, my staff would deal with anything that comes through. It must be important. Or strictly personal.

Sitting down in my comfortable leather chair, intrigued, I pick up the old-fashioned handset that’s connected to the landline. “Kassis.”

“Er, is this Sheikh Jasim?”

The uncertain and breathy female voice surprises me, and I’m not immediately able to place it. “Speaking.”

“Er, it’s Janna. Janna Stevens.”

And just like that my cock’s fully erect. I lean back to give myself more room to ease it, but I doubt she’s ringing up to give me phone sex. More’s the pity. Unable to see her, to have her relative youth flaunted in my face, or to betray my inappropriate reaction, I allow her voice to excite me.

“How’s the head? Everything okay?”

“My head is fine. Thank you for helping me.”

“My pleasure.” And it certainly was. Thinking back, I’d enjoyed every minute ministering to her, sleeping beside her. Too much. Whatever she’s calling for, I know I mustn’t see her again. There’s only so much temptation a Dom can take when faced with such an obvious sub.

“What can I do for you?” I prompt her, when there’s silence at her end of the line.

A sound as if she’s taking a deep breath, “I’m calling to ask a favour. A very big one, I’m afraid. I don’t quite know how to ask you…”

As her voice tails off, I wonder what request she’s going to make. Is she going to ask for membership to the club? Racking my brain, I try to remember if I mentioned I was an owner? But if I hadn’t, how did she know to contact me here? Bates. She must have got in touch with Bates and he told her who I was. Would I allow her to join? Could I stand it? Seeing her corrupted by somebody else? Someone in the right age bracket? Mentally I run through possible Doms, but come up with none other than myself. And I’m definitely not suitable. For a start, I’m far too old.

“I didn’t tell you anything about me.” She’s speaking again, and I realise I’ve been distracted.

Ah, so now she’s going to tell me she’s into kink. I’d never have guessed it, she seemed far too innocent and unworldly. Perhaps it’s an excuse to see me again?

“You want a membership to Club Tiacapan,” I sigh, wondering how I can dissuade her. Seeing her lithe body tightly laced into a corset would be far too much temptation for me. Just the thought starts my cock throbbing painfully. Though her hair’s dark, her skin is fair, a lovely contrast. I start to imagine it pinking up under my hand. Shit, I can’t possibly have her playing here and keep my hands off without losing my sanity. I’ll have to discourage her.

“What? No! That’s not my scene at all.” Her indignation comes down the line, showing me that, while I’ve got the reason for her call all wrong, she’s denying her nature. I sigh with relief, and swallow down my regret.

“What favour are you asking then?” This call’s dragging on, but I find I don’t mind that. My hand goes to my crotch and I finger my stiff dick.

“I’m in a band, I don’t know if you’ve heard of us? Anarchy Rules?”

“You sing?” I hadn’t thought about it, but now she’s said it, I can see her doing that. Something sweet and melodious. Strange band name for that type of music though.

She gives a gravelly laugh, I squeeze my cock harder, “You really wouldn’t want to hear my singing voice.”

No, I’d prefer to hear her screaming my name, if I’m totally honest. I murmur something insignificant, it encourages her to go on.

“I’m a guitarist. We play rock.”

I wonder whether it’s a girl band. Fuck, others like her on stage? Making a mental note to find out where they’re playing, and balancing the phone between my ear and my shoulder, I jot the group’s name down on a writing pad. And then I think of another possible reason for her call.

“Sorry, Janna, we don’t have live bands playing here.” We couldn’t afford to. Taped music doesn’t have eyes and ears that could see or hear all the wrong things and threaten our members’ anonymity.

“No, I’m not asking for that. Jasim, the guys I play with have asked me to contact you. It’s a bloody cheek as I barely… I don’t know you at all, really.”

Guys. There goes my fantasy of an all-girl band. Then I have to suppress a growl at her use of the word play, and then remind herself she’s not using it the same way I do.

“Go on, Janna,” I encourage her. “Just spit it out.”

“We’re planning to make a video, to coincide with the release of our next album.”

“You can’t film in the club.” I’m adamant about that. Not even when it’s closed.

“No, no. Look, I’m making a hash of this, but I’m embarrassed to ask.” Her frustration and self-consciousness make me want to put her at her ease.

“Janna, you’ve slept in my bed.” And why did I have to remind myself of that? “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Just come straight out and say whatever it is you want to ask me. I’ll either say yes or no.” And no will probably be the answer. Placing the heel of my hand hard to the base of my cock, I try to will it to go down.

“Your brother’s harem.” Her voice has dropped to a whisper.

Her mention of that surprises me. My first thought is that it’s not Kadar’s special place any longer, he’s rescinded his ancient rights to the place. In fact, his wife, Zoe and Cara have renovated it and are offering the place as a destination for hen parties, of all things. It’s only just getting off the ground, but they’ve taken a few bookings so far, and from what I heard, it’s already showing signs of being a success. Then my brain catches up. Shit.

“You want to have your hen party there?” Is she going to get married? Was there a man waiting in the wings, even while she was lying beside me? The memory of her giving no indication of that serves to deflate my cock. I don’t like cheaters.

“No, no. Definitely not.” Her hasty denial elicits a sigh of relief, but leaves me annoyed that the thought bothered me at all. “The thing is, Jasim, the guys have seen pictures of the harem, and think it would make the perfect backdrop to the video we want to make for our next album. And other locations nearby, we could go out into the desert or film at a souk.” Her voice sounds excited, and I picture her envisioning the exotic locations.

Choking back my immediate dismissal, and the thought of the horror I’d see on my older brother’s face were I to suggest it, I take a minute to think before replying. Unexpectedly, Kadar had agreed to the outlandish idea of hen parties, and one of his main aims is to attract tourists to Amahad. In view of what I believed was a rather odd change of use for the harem, I can’t summarily discount that he might welcome the publicity. I slip on my businessman’s hat.

“What kind of following do you have? I’m afraid I haven’t heard of…” I consult the writing pad, “Anarchy Rules.” Kadar wouldn’t go for it if they were just starting out. However much I might want to help the girl I’d treated as a medic.

“Okay. That’s fair. I’ll tell you something about us. We’ve been around a few years. I joined them seven years ago.”

“Shit, you must have been young!”

“Fifteen.” She laughs down the line. “A child prodigy they’d have you believe, but I think a precocious brat is probably nearer the truth.” And the thought of her being a brat starts my cock throbbing again.

Ignoring my body’s unwanted reaction, I urge, “Go on.”

“Well, we started off like everyone else, playing in local pubs. But we’ve become somewhat known. Now we’ve moved onto clubs and bigger venues. We’ve got quite a large following, and make just enough to support us. There’s six in the band in all, four of us are original members, two, the twins Rory and Liam, joined three years ago. Rory replaced one of our original members. Sorry, I’m rambling. You don’t need to know that.” She pauses, presumably to get her thoughts together. “We’ve done music vids before, the last one got over a hundred thousand hits on YouTube. But it was amateurish, and we want to do this one right. We’ve got a film crew in mind, and have been searching to find the right location.”

A hundred thousand visits for one video not well produced. It’s easy to understand how, done right, they could improve on that. The idea intrigues me, and I begin thinking how I could sell it to Kadar. He’ll want more information, I open my mouth to start to ask her to send me a few tracks so I can judge for myself, or the link to the video, but different words come out of my mouth.

“Have you got any gigs lined up? I’d like to come and watch you play before I make any decision about forwarding your proposal to the emir.” Fuck, why did I suggest that? My idea of fun is not being in the midst of a heaving throng of rockers headbanging the night away. I must have been at Uni the last time I did that. Not that I have anything against rock music, I’m just too old to go to a live gig. Which reminds me, too old for the likes of her. And it will probably be far more gentle than the gigs I used to go to, and would bore me to death.

“Oh, Jasim. That would be wonderful. We’re actually playing tomorrow, if that’s not too soon?” And the enthusiasm in her voice tells me I can’t disappoint her.

I ask her for details of when and where, and write them down. Perhaps I could send one of my younger friends instead? Preferably a happily married one. And why should their marital status concern me?

But I would like to see her again. To watch her in her element, doing what she obviously loves. A vision comes to me of her in a beautiful white virginal dress, strumming along at the back of the band, the other members tolerating her as she adds a bit of eye candy for the men. If I see her like that, among youngsters of her own age, surely that would put some sense in my head and squash this unwanted attraction?

Then I think of the band. Is she sufficiently protected? Do they take care of her?

And do the members take care of all her needs?

I suppress my growl at the thought, and temper my voice so I’m able to respond politely. “I’ll be there. And I’ll look forward to it.”

Ending the call, I sit back in my chair, my cock hard as iron. What is it about this girl/woman? And why does she affect me? And why do I, a Dom, seem to be unable to control myself even at just at the sound of her voice?