Chapter 1

Chapter One

Walt

“I want a blue unicorn named Merlin to be a friend for Uther Penunicorn, and all the Kinder eggs, but not the ones from America, which have bad toys, and pink Docs with butterflies, and…” Gabby Knox squirmed on Walt’s lap and straightened her tartan pinafore dress as her husband, Sean Franklin, otherwise known as Death, watched over her. “Oh, I almost forgot, Santa! I need a Weatherby 307 with a Nikon scope so I can practice marksmanship with Daddy. I want it to be pink to match my boots.”

“I see.” Walt Thompson hid a smile at her somewhat eclectic wish list. “Have you been a good girl, Miss Gabby?”

“Of course not. Daddy likes it when I’m naughty.” She giggled and kissed Walt’s bearded cheek, then hopped from his lap. “What a silly question, Santa!”

Sean rolled his eyes and smiled wryly as Susan Metz, Walt’s pretty elf, gave Gabby a gaily wrapped box which, judging by the size and shape, contained the rifle she wanted. Sadly, it probably wouldn’t be pink.

Every little at Club Apocalypse got a present, ostensibly from Santa, but chosen by their Daddy or Mommy.

Hell, he didn’t even mind the itchy Santa suit, or the sweat beading under the furry hat. Thankfully, he’d managed to grow out a decent beard for the occasion, so he didn’t have to wear a fake one.

Strange how things turned out. Before Walt retired from the sheriff’s department, he would have said Club Apocalypse needed to be shut down. It had taken way too long for him to realize the gossip about it being a brothel wasn’t true.

In fact, Navajo County was better for its presence. Even if he didn’t count the increased tax revenue, the Four Horsemen and their wives had finally managed to get rid of The Shepherds of the Coming Peace cult—the real thorn in his side.

The land where the cult compound once stood now boasted a women’s shelter with highly trained female guards, a state-of-the-art security system, a job center, and even had educational outreach from the University of Arizona, all supported by the Horsemen and the Caroline Foundation, named for the mother of Ryan Wood’s wife, Carrie. Rumor had it that the start-up funding for the foundation came from the Shepherd’s hidden assets, which to his mind showed karma was alive and well in Arizona.

“It’s Kendra’s turn to sit on Santa’s lap,” Mark Luciano—also known as War—pronounced as he pushed Club Apocalypse’s vice president of operations toward Walt.

Walt hid a frown and glanced at Susan, who shrugged. Gabby’s had been the last gift, and he didn’t have anything for Kendra.

He wished he had something to give Susan too. She worked hard, both in the dungeon as a scene assistant, and in the restaurant as a server, but never took any of the numerous invitations to play. Hell, she’d even helped out during the classes he’d taken, and as his experience in BDSM grew, so too did her confidence.

She definitely wasn’t the same woman who had clutched his arm like she was afraid someone would try to stop her when he took her away from the Shepherds. Aside from gaining a bit of much-needed weight, the look of weary desperation in her eyes was gone and she didn’t flinch at loud noises anymore.

Well, not as much as before anyway.

Her bravery still astonished him. For her to work at a bondage club after all the abuse she’d suffered… Susan wouldn’t believe him if he told her, but she was the strongest woman he knew, and he admired the hell out of her.

Susan took Kendra’s hand to lead her to the giant chair where Walt sat. “Come sit on Santa’s lap, Ms. Hall.”

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Kendra?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Susan’s warm brown eyes twinkled as she smiled, revealing cute dimples he suddenly wanted to kiss. With her red-and-white elf outfit, striped tights, and a green hat with a bell on it covering her silky brown hair, she was adorable. He loved seeing her secure enough to be willing to tease Kendra too.

Of course, it wasn’t the first time he’d wanted to kiss Susan breathless—amongst other things—but at fifteen years her senior, he was too old for her.

“Brat.” Dressed in a tailored pantsuit and heels, Kendra sighed and perched on his knee. “I’d like an assistant for Christmas, Santa. Failing that, I wouldn’t mind some help hauling that ginormous pile of donations to the Caroline.”

Club Apocalypse’s members and staff had outdone themselves. Comprised of toys, furniture, clothing, and everything else a woman might need to set up a home, the donations took up most of the southwestern third of the dungeon.

“I called in a favor and got you a semi with a box trailer,” Walt murmured. “Tell me something you want just for you.”

“A nap. Excuse me, please.” She jumped to her feet and hurried off to greet a new arrival before he could reply.

“Did you have a gift for her, Mark?” Walt asked.

“Yes, but she won’t arrive until tomorrow. I invited her best friend, Linda, for a visit.” Mark smirked, then added, “I was going to tell Kendra, but I guess she’ll have to wait for the surprise.”

“And teasing her with what her present might be is the perfect opportunity for a mindfuck.”

Mark’s evil smile would have scared anyone who didn’t know him. “That’s the best part.”

A year ago, learning Mark was a sadist with a fondness for mental torment would have had Walt looking for a way to get a warrant for his arrest. These days, it was just another dynamic in the wonderful world of safe, sane, and consensual kink.

“Well, since you’re here, wanna sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what you want?”

“I’m good.” Mark’s gaze never left Kendra. “I already have everything I could have ever wished for.”

“I guess you do.”

Too bad Walt was wishing for something he couldn’t have.

Susan

She finished picking up the torn wrapping paper and empty boxes left from the pile of presents they’d distributed to the Littles. It was fun watching them enjoy their party.

This was Susan’s first real Christmas. She’d managed to finish crocheted afghans for all the Horsemen and their wives just in time for the party. They even had gifts for her, which she wouldn’t have expected in a million years.

Along with a brand-new laptop for school, she now had the use of a car. It was a company vehicle, which didn’t belong to her, but with their help, she’d soon be in a position to buy her own. Carrie was even giving her driving lessons, which was the best gift of all.

She just wished…

I want to sit on Santa’s lap.

Well, one particular Santa’s lap.

Walt looked like all the pictures she’d seen of the man in the red suit, with a thick gray beard, silver hair that tended to curl on the ends, and bright-blue eyes. The only thing he was missing was the stereotypical round belly. She’d had to help him tie a pillow over his trim abdomen to make the costume fit right.

Susan pushed thoughts of cuddling on Walt’s lap aside and tried to hide her warm face as she carried the trash to the bin in the staff corridor. She really wished she’d thought to make him an afghan too.

He’d be an amazing Daddy Dom.

Heck, she didn’t even know if a Daddy dynamic was her thing. In the time she’d worked at Club Apocalypse, she’d observed almost everything the kink world had to offer.

None of the impact play enticed her. It didn’t scare her anymore, but Susan doubted she’d ever be willing to try more than a barehanded spanking. Sensation play, on the other hand…

Master Mark and Kendra let her try wax and his violet wand once after a class, and she almost cried when it was time to put the toys away. She also loved watching the Shibari demos, but feeling her skin come to life with the heated wax and tingly sparks…

Shuddering with remembered pleasure, she got her mind back on what she was supposed to be doing.

Considering it was a fundraiser for the Caroline, the Christmas party was fairly vanilla. The dungeon would open later for adult play, but seeing the Daddies and Mommies take care of their partners stirred longing to life inside her, and she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like if Walt was her Daddy.

Unfortunately, she’d never get up the nerve to ask. Finding a partner would mean having to reveal the scarring on her back, bottom, and thighs, and she didn’t want anyone to see the physical evidence of what the Shepherds had done to her.

She was also being completely dumb about it. Walt had already seen the photos the police took for evidence, as had dozens of attorneys, judges, jurors, other police officers, nurses, doctors…

More people had seen her bare bottom than were at the party.

Then there was the issue of physical intimacy. She shuddered, remembering how Edward, her supposed husband, would sweat and groan over her for a few minutes every Friday night. He didn’t care if she found pleasure, or even if it hurt. Thankfully, he was in jail and would hopefully stay there for another couple of years—not that she’d have anything to do with him if he wasn’t.

Despite his claims to the contrary, she and Edward weren’t legally married. Jonas Jamison, the self-proclaimed cult messiah, had never been ordained. Although some of the couples had gotten marriage licenses, none of the certificates had ever been filed.

It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad, but Susan wasn’t the only woman who was delighted about not having to deal with a divorce. Out of over fifty women, only two stayed with their husbands and got married for real, and those couples had been plotting to leave before Jonas’ arrest.

“Hey, Susan.” Jake McBride, her boss, and the restaurant’s head chef took the trash bag from her and tossed it into the bin. “Did you and Walt get a chance to eat yet?”

“No, Sir. I’m sorry.” She didn’t dare call him Famine like everyone else did.

Although Jake was a great boss and had never been anything but patient and kind, he got irritated when the staff didn’t take their scheduled breaks.

“You don’t need to apologize. Being Santa’s elf is a big job.” His stern expression softened as he put his hand on the middle of her back to steer her toward Walt. When they reached him, Jake said, “There’s food in the break room. Olivia even set out a bottle of wine for you and Susan to share as a thank you for helping out tonight.”

“Oh?” Walt took off his Santa costume, revealing a black T-shirt and jeans, but kept the furry red hat. “What’s on the menu?”

His muscular arms flexed as he untied the thin rope holding the pillow to his abdomen, and it took Susan a lot longer than it should have to stop gawking at him and help.

“Olivia’s comfort food special. Potato soup, braised lamb shanks, steamed broccolini, green salad, and whole-grain rolls. Hit up the cookie-decorating table in the dining room for dessert.”

Susan swallowed a moan. After a lifetime of beans and rice with the occasional piece of boiled chicken or pork, she’d gained almost twenty pounds, and adored her new, healthier body almost as much as she loved Olivia’s cooking with its liberal use of fresh produce and unfamiliar but delicious herbs.

Jake’s food was always wonderful, but Olivia cooked from her heart as if she knew how to warm Susan’s soul.

Walt grinned as he folded the costume. “You had me at Olivia’s comfort food.”

“Asshole.” Despite the insult, Jake laughed. “I’m the chef here, remember?”

“Yeah, but I only remember on Saturdays when you do smoked prime rib.” Walt offered Susan his hand. “Supper awaits. Will you join me, little elf?”

“I…” His brilliant blue eyes caught her, and she forgot what she wanted to say. After scrambling for a few words that didn’t sound stupid, she took his outstretched hand. “I’d like that.”