Page 1 of Rock Bottom
Chapter 1
Silver
I love performing with Mythic Beast, and I love my bandmates, but this tour had been a long one. I needed sex in the worst sort of way. Not just sex, but a full scene. Pain. Discipline.
And so, for the first time in nearly a year, I was on the prowl. I was wearing the makeup one would expect of a male submissive because my goal on this night was to find a Dominant man to take me back to my hotel and thoroughly abuse my body inallthe right ways.
And that isn’t as dangerous as you’re thinking because I already had a nearby suite, with two bodyguards tailing me and another already in the room. He’d hide so whoever I brought back wouldn’t know he was in there, and if I got into trouble, he’d get rid of the asshole — probably after beating the hell out of him first.
I’d specifically requested the Fabulosa Trio tonight, three guys who work well as a team, and I was paying for them out of pocket. Eunice and Collosa were tailing me, and Fabio was in the hotel room.
But finding a Dom in a bar can be tricky for a number of reasons. Mostly, I can go out as a gay twink and people don’t recognize me as part of Mythic Beast. I’m the bass player, not the front man. Plus, sometimes I’m a woman and sometimes I’m a man, but I’m never a gay twink on stage. When I feel feminine, I dress as a woman. When I feel masculine, I dress as a man — and I can pull both off, so I never look like a man dressed as a woman, or a woman dressed as a man.
The fan base isn’t used to seeing me as a girly-boy.
And what better city to go hunting than Miami, Florida, right? We had a night off while in gay paradise, so I was absolutely going to play.
I went out with my neck bare, no collar and not even a necklace, wearing leather chaps with blue jean short-shorts under them to stay legal. I wore a thin black tee, cut off just below the rib cage. My breasts arenota male chest, but there isn’t enough boob to notice under a black tee in a club. Technically, I’m a tiny little A-cup, but I rarely wear a bra unless I’m trying to create cleavage with push-up cups. I can also strap them down so they’re mostly flat, but I didn’t do that tonight. I can usually pass them off either way so long as I’m careful about the kind of shirt I wear.
I’d tried on four pairs of boots before I settled on the black ones without a heel, to keep me as short as possible.
Heavy eyeliner with some contour shading under my cheeks for drama, and I’d styled my hair to look short tonight.
My hair comes down just past my shoulders, and the band has a hair stylist who travels with us who does my extensions when I’m on the road and want to be a girl, which gives me hair to the middle of my back. I can’t deal with wigs, but extensions look natural and they work well.
The thing is, it’s partially shaved on the left side, up under the long layer, so if I swoop it all over to the right, there’s lots of drama on one side. Also, I can pin up the longest pieces of it, slick back the parts I swoosh over, and I look totally emo, even with blond hair.
And that was the basis for tonight’skinky emolook.
I’m not the kind of guy who sits at the bar and waits for people to notice me, so I ordered a drink, walked the club, and soaked in the vibes. When my drink was empty, I hit the dance floor.
Forty minutes later, I was on the outside deck with an ocean breeze at my back, talking limits and boundaries with a man decked out like a Dom.
And then came the part that would probably send him packing so I’d have to look for someone else, but better to find out here than once we were naked. “Do you know what DSD is, Sir?”
Completely blank look, so I tried again.
“Ambiguous genitalia?”
He smiled. “That one I know. What parts you got, Joey?”
“Dick and a vaj, Sir, along with the necessary asshole.” And okay, technically the doctors called it an enlarged clitoris when I was born, but it looks and acts like a dick, so I think the doctors are full of shit. I mean, it isn’t like I’m super-well endowed, but it’s definitely not a micropenis, either.
He looked at my chest and back up to my face. “I’m still game, and I assume the large gentleman off to our right is watching out for you?”
Unless they’re in the business themselves, no one ever recognized the Fabulosa Trio as security.
“You a cop, Sir?”
Collosa walked to our table, flipped a chair around, and sat in it backwards. “Military intelligence, likely with the company, which means he might tell your secrets to the government, but he won’t blab them to the public.”
Thecompanywas code for the CIA. Interesting, but not important, so I said. “Pretty sure the government already knows my secrets.”
The man sat back. “You got a Master or Daddy who provides security when you want to play? Because this man doesn’t come cheap.”
I looked at Collosa, and he shrugged. “Doubtful he knows who I am, but he’s high-level enough to figure out the cost, considering the fact I found out his info when it’s been so well buried.”
The Drake geeks would’ve figured it out, but no need to clue my potential play-partner in. I also wasn’t going to tell him it’s my money paying for the security team. I met his gaze and said, “I have the penthouse suite half a block away. It’s a nice evening for a walk. You coming?”
