Page 15 of Amy's Santa

Why the fuck is he telling us this when he should be talking about Amy?“Christ, man, you’re talking about the whores. That’s what they’re there for.” I doubt it was a good look for an outsider, but to hell with what he thinks. “What the fuck has that got to do with Amy?”

Xander’s forward leaning posture shows that he’s going on the offensive. “Amy was brought up in an environment where sex was on tap, pleasure casually given and taken.”

“Kids were kept away from all that,” I say scornfully, while remembering there was one occasion at least where Amy had not. I often wonder if that’s why she left the compound. I push down my guilt, I’d done what I’d had to do, and Wizard had played his part admirably. Too well perhaps.

“And you’re accusing us of… what?” Drummer says, eerily calmly. “That we set her up to meet an abusive fuck in a BDSM club?”

“Not at all,” Xander refutes fast. “Heart, it might be hard for you to accept, but Amy is far from being a kid anymore, and we both know she’s not stupid. From what you just said, you have whores on tap. No, don’t get defensive, what I saw was women enjoying themselves.” He pauses until I shut my mouth, then looks over the desk. “Drummer, I’m not accusing you of anything. What I’m saying is her background has given Amy a healthy outlook on sex.” He shrugs, then continues, “A knowledge that there’s pleasure to be had between a man and a woman—or even another woman, or multiple partners come to that. Exploring and having fun sexually was nothing she was, or is, or should be ashamed of.” He levels that stare on me. “It might be Christmas morning, but if you even hint to her that what she’s been up to is dirty or wrong, then I’m taking her away immediately.”

I seethe at his threat. “I’m her father.”

“You could hurt her… damage her, with just a few wrongly placed words.” He rubs at his temples. “You don’t understand her. Oh, I’ve no doubt you knew her as a child, but she’s not been a kid for a very long time. What she does goes to the very heart of her.”

“You’re saying she’s promiscuous?”

I don’t like that word. But then Drummer got his name for banging everything in sight before he met Sam, and I wasn’t shy myself before I got married for the first time. Xander’s right, Amy’s been subjected to promiscuity all of her life, why shouldn’t it have rubbed off on her? But as I’m thinking maybe I can understand, even if I don’t like the idea, Xander stops me with just two words.

“Definitely not.” As both sets of eyes land on him, Xander continues, “BDSM clubs are not just about sex, or about sex at all a lot of the time. They are about letting someone be the way they truly are, giving them a safe place to explore not only their sexuality, but their psyche deep down inside, which maybe they normally need to keep hidden from the real world.”

Put like that, it almost sounds respectable.

Until he says the next words, “Amy’s submissive.”

“Amy?” I scoff at him. “Fuck, she grew up bossing the little ones around, do this, do that. She’d stand up for them too. She’s no doormat.”

“Of course she’s not,” Xander counters. “But I bet her bossing was to keep them safe, and I would place good money that she helped her stepmom with the chores. Got pleasure from doing things for someone else.”

“That about sums her up, Heart.” Drummer’s steel stare has dialled back from killing mode to maybe just permanently maiming instead.

Amy’s man continues, “She’s a nurse, and a good one. A typical role for someone who gets satisfaction from serving. Having direction and obeying rules.”

Drummer’s eyes meet mine, and he says in a dangerous tone, “And what role did you play, at this BDSM club? Where does Amy come in? Was something taken too far?”

It’s a fair assumption to make, and I don’t really need Xander’s hesitant nod to confirm it. What I don’t like is the image of him abusing her. I start to open my mouth, but Drummer gets in first.

“So you have fucked her?” He must have been lying when he said he had not.

Xander is adamant. “No. I’ve never played with her.”

“Think you’re toying with us. Spit it out, man.” Drummer’s growing impatient. “Did you or anyone else hurt her?”

Now both hands rub at his temples. “Yes.”

“Details, man.” I want to know who I’m going to kill, and from the look on his face, Drum does as well.

“Look, it’s not my story to tell, but I’d rather this interrogation was directed at me, and not at her. Right now, she wouldn’t survive it.” He huffs. “I can’t actually believe I encouraged her to come to you, seems she was right you’d have difficulty being able to understand.”

“Well help us out, man,” Drummer impatiently demands.

A quick grin crosses Xander’s face. “I’m a Dominant, a Dom, and the excuse for the way you both are acting is that you share some of the same traits.” My eyes narrow, and my brow creases. “You’re protective to the extent of being overly so, you want to make it right for any of your family who are, or could be, hurt. I’d go so far as to suggest you prefer the controlling role in the bedroom and want to see your women take their pleasure first.”

I find myself smirking.

“While a submissive has the desire to serve, a Dom prides himself on control, and that means above all, being in control of himself. A true Dom will never be hot-headed, will never lose his self-control. The safety and pleasure of his sub is paramount. Or should be.” His lips narrow, but I don’t interrupt, thinking he’s getting to the gist of it now. “A huge part of BDSM is about communication. Before any scene, there’s a negotiation, and how the scene will progress is agreed upfront.”

“Doesn’t sound very spontaneous.”

“It’s not,” Xander agrees, “for the most part. And therein lies the safety element, the need for explicit consent. If the Dom is going to request oral sex, either give or receive, agreement is obtained before the fun starts. Same with whipping or flogging, bondage or anything else.”

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