Page 54 of Dozer

I shrugged. “Laws are different in other countries. Technically, you have to be seventeen to drink in Greece, but the nightclubs don’t check ID. I spent a summer there when I was fifteen, and let me just say theyknowhow to party in Greece. I spent the next summer in London, when I was sixteen, and it’s legal to buy beer, cider, and wine at sixteen there, just not the hard stuff. Technically, you’re supposed to be eighteen to go to the clubs, but the underground ones will let you in at sixteen if you hand them some cash along with your ID.”

“And I imagine the underground clubs have other rules they don’t follow, too,” Angelica said.

I smiled and nodded, and lifted my drink as soon as the waiter settled it in front of me. The first sip was heavenly, and a small moan escaped.

Chapter 42

Daisy

Angelica returned me to the clubhouse around four that evening. She’d had a bonnet-type thing for me to put on my hair, and she said my hair might be flat when we arrived, but it wouldn’t be blown all to fuck and back.

Dozer was waiting for me in the parking lot, his hands crossed over his chest, and he already knew about the drinks. It was written all over his face.

“When Bash gives me that look, I’m in trouble,” Angelica noted.

I looked at her so fast, the world spun around us a little, and she chuckled. “I know, right? Bad-ass woman with her own career who takes no shit from anyone? Girls like us don’t date alpha guys because we want to dominate them, but because it’s nice to have a guy who can dominate us. Whatever you’ve done, apologize and mean it. It’s clear he loves you, even when he’s displeased.”

I took the thing off my head and handed it to her. “Thanks for this.” I pulled the ponytail holder out, put it on my wrist, and finger-combed my hair around my face. “Thanks for the tour of the city, too. And the conversation.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours. Gen asked Duke to bring extra lighting into the conference room, and there’s already a big mirror in there, plus we’ll have tabletop mirrors to use to getready with, so we can all talk and get started drinking while we finish getting ready.”

Dozer pointed me towards the door, I went in, and then he walked past me and kept going. I had to nearly run to keep up with his long strides, and I followed him through the half-full clubhouse front room, through the doors to the back, down the steps, through several hallways, and finally into his room.

“If you’d broken a rule on your first venture without me, I’d have either released you back to your parents, or put you in your jail cell for three months without allowing you aboveground a single time — depending on the rule you broke. But you didn’t technically break a rule. You did, however, go against my wishes, so you’ll have to be punished. First, though, strip and kneel.”

The floor on this level is finished concrete. I’d seen into Gonzo’s room once when the door was open, and there’s this nice throw rug, huge, so it goes partway under the bed. I imagine Connie put it in there, but I wasn’t comfortable giving Dozer interior decorating suggestions. If I had, I’d change out the curtains in most of his house. I had the feeling he’d gone to Target and bought every brown blackout curtain they had. His style, if I had to name it, wouldn’t be function over style, it would just befunction, because he never considered style. I mean, his house wasn’t hideous, but it also wasn’t a style that told you anything about the resident. My guess was he’d walked into a living room he’d liked at the furniture store and said, “I want everything in this room.” Probably the same for his bedroom.

But this room? Was a double-sized mattress on a wooden platform without a headboard or footboard, and shelves I think he bought at Walmart for the few things he kept here — a spare helmet, three pairs of folded jeans, about a half-dozen neatly folded shirts that probably came that way from the laundry people, and a large boot-box with some clean underwear and socks. A large box on the top shelf held butt plugs, wrist cuffs,a blindfold, nipple clamps, and who knew what else. A cloth laundry bin beside the shelf held some dirty clothes. There were large mirrors on two walls, but no pictures or artwork.

All this to say, I folded my clothes and put them on the shelf, and then kneeled on the cold, hard concrete and looked at the spot I knew his dick to be, under his jeans.

“Anything I need to know besides the drink ordered as a double?”

“I slipped up with Angelica and told her something about DC that most people don’t know, Master.”

“Tell me.”

I told him as much of the conversation as I could recall, and he asked, “Anything else?”

“Not that I can recall, Master.”

“Can you tell me why you ordered the double?”

“It wasn’t against the rules, Master. I mean, I knew it gave me more vodka than you intended me to have, but I did it without breaking a rule.”

* * * *

Dozer

If I’m honest, I’ll say I was both disappointed in her actionsandimpressed. However, I didn’t have the luxury of allowing her to go against my wishes without supplying consequences. I hadn’t been lying about possibly having to send her away if she’d completely broken trust, though. Things were happening that she didn’t know about, and if she’d proven completely untrustworthy, my options would’ve been to cut bait and be done with her, or to dismantle the cell in my basement and put it into the hidden room downstairs so a portion of it became her new, permanent home.

Thankfully, we weren’t there, though, and I reached up and into my toybox, felt for the bag I was looking for, pulled it out, and showed it to her. She recognized the uncooked rice, and her expression and scent were of resignation. She thought she knew what was coming, and she accepted it, but with dread.

It was going to be worse than she expected, though, because I needed to be certain she’d follow my orders to the letter over the coming weeks.

I settled the bag of rice on a shelf, pulled the box down so I could look into it, and put a waist cincher and an electro-butt-plug on the shelf with the rice. I scented more fear and dread, but that was okay. She was in for an hour of hell and we both knew it. Well, I knew how long it would be, she just knew it wasn’t likely to be five or ten minutes.

I left her in the room kneeling beside the bed — on rice with the waist cincher as tight as it would go, the butt plug set to give her super-intense random shocks no closer than a minute and a half, and no farther apart than three and a half minutes. A spreader bar between her ankles kept her legs apart, and her shoulders would be aching before long because her arms were in a single sleeve behind her, about a half-inch looser than the tightest we’d worked up to so far, since she was going to be in it so long. A bit gag pressed down on her tongue to remind her to watch her words in the future, and I’d dipped my finger in some capsaicin oil and then ran a line down her tongue, just to make sure she got the message. And finally, before I’d put the bit gag in, I’d suggested she thank me for only using the capsaicin oil on her tongue and not also using it as lube for the butt plug, and she’d meant every word when she thanked me.

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