Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"O

h, c'mon, Kristen. Tell me who got my snowflake. Please!" Matthew gave her his best puppy-dog eyes with his hands clasped under his chin. He was dying to know who'd chosen him for tonight's Secret Santa. When his friend wouldn't cave and just shook her head, he turned to her sister-in-law. "Pretty please, Angie, with cherries and multiple orgasms on top!"

"Nope. You have to guess like everyone else. Besides, I don't remember who got your name, and Master Mitch has the list now, right, Kristen?"

"Right."

"Bull crap." Scowling, which he didn't often do because he didn't want permanent frown lines before he was eighty—he took pride in his perfect pores and smooth skin—Matthew pointed a freshly manicured finger from one woman to the other and back again. "No wonder you two always get punished by your Doms—neither of you can bluff. I'd make a killing if we played poker. Master Mitch may have the list, but I'm sure you two memorized it before giving it to him."

Yesterday, he'd taken the last of his final exams. He was positive he passed all the practicals—when the paramedic students role-played how they would treat patients in the field based on different scenarios. The individual tests included running a cardiac arrest, EKG interpretation and subsequent treatment, trauma assessment, and scene management, among others, and he got through them all without any errors. However, as expected, the written exam was rough. Many paramedic students didn't pass their first time and had to retake it. Matthew prayed he didn't fall into that category. After walking out at the end of the test, he repeatedly second-guessed several questions he'd stumbled on.

He couldn't do anything about it now but wait, so he tried to push his worry to the back of his mind and focus on something else—currently wondering which Dom had his snowflake. Hopefully, it was someone compatible, engaging, and deliciously handsome.

He had the night off after swapping shifts with a single mother EMT so she wouldn't have to work on Christmas next week. Many police officers, firefighters, EMTs, and paramedics throughout the city often rearranged their schedules to let coworkers with little ones celebrate the holidays with them. The swap had been a win/win for Matthew anyway, letting him attend the Secret Santa. The Covenant always had fun games and events throughout the year, especially before the winter holidays, and he tried not to miss them. And now that his exams were over, he wanted to par-tay !

Several new gay Doms had joined the club over the last few months, but he hadn't played with any of them yet because of his school and work schedules. However, he could now look forward to getting to know them, especially the yummy Master Del.

Now there's a Dom I could seriously get into. Or let him get into me, pun intended!

Many people stood at the bar on the club's second floor, waiting for one of the bartenders to notice them. The place was packed, which wasn't unusual during December. Even though Saturday nights were already the busiest at the club, it appeared as if almost every member was there, probably because of the Secret Santa event.

Last night, Matthew had been too exhausted, mentally and physically, to attend the annual Reindeer Races, which involved Sybians, a grid marked off on the floor, and a pair of big fuzzy dice. Subs rode the ultimate vibrating sex machines, complete with a dildo attachment, while the Doms rolled the dice. Whoever's number came up was pushed forward one space on the grid. If a "reindeer" reached the finish line first, their reward was an orgasm. Any contestant who came before crossing the finish line had to race again. The record so far was four races in a row by a female submissive two years ago, and she'd nearly passed out from the multiple orgasms. Master Mitch finally took pity on her and let her sit out for the remainder of the event.

The Reindeer Races occurred in the garden, a domed annex added two years ago. With potted trees, shrubs, flowers, and grassy areas, it was like an indoor hedonistic Eden mixed with BDSM equipment, colorful cabanas, and comfortable seating. When the dome roof was retracted, it let in the fresh air, and you could see the stars and moon. For security, a thin mesh netting across the opening apparently reflected light when seen from above, so no one could use a drone or helicopter to take photos of the people playing in the garden. From below, you almost couldn't tell the netting was there. It was really cool.

In addition to the bar, the second floor of the main club also had seating areas, offices, stock rooms, and a boutique that offered toys, fet-wear, lingerie, and various other items. A massive opening in the center of the upper floor allowed people to observe the cavernous play area below. A grand staircase led down to the "pit," as the dungeon was dubbed when the club first opened. Under the bar were the locker rooms and lounges for both men and women. At the far end of the pit were twenty-four private playrooms, some with viewing windows.

Since neither woman standing in front of him would give in to his pleading, he sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. "All right. Fine. I'll play along if I must. How does this go again?"

"Once everyone is ready," Kristen explained, "We'll hand all the eligible subs an envelope. It'll have three clues about the Dom who picked you. You have to figure out who it is before time runs out."

"Thirty minutes, right?"

"Yup. If you win, you choose how you'll play for two hours. If you lose, the Dom chooses."

That would've sounded super easy if he knew all the gay Doms well enough, but with the new ones who'd joined recently, he might not be so lucky to guess correctly.

"Okay, how do we know which Doms are involved? I'm not all caught up with the club gossip lately, and some of the Doms I know could be in relationships now. There are also a bunch of new Doms."

Angie gestured toward a group of Doms milling about the bar. "See the necklaces some of them have on?" Several wore either a red or green lanyard with a large pendant of the same color. "They're Christmas bulbs that light up, and all the Doms taking part in the Secret Santa have one and will turn theirs on after we hand out the clues to the subs."

"Does it matter which color they're wearing? Like red for straight and green for LGBTQ?"

"Nope. The store just didn't have enough of one color, so we got both. If you don't know if someone swings your way, you'll have to ask one of the other subs. We'll explain all this and more when we start."

A half-hour later, with a white wine spritzer under his belt, Matthew stood to the left of the pit's oval-shaped center stage, surrounded by other unattached subs whose snowflakes had been picked by a Dom or Domme. He'd dressed extra festively for the evening of holiday fun in red leather shorts, green, gold, and white suspenders over his bare torso, a Santa hat, elfin ears, and red, pointed slippers with tiny gold bells on them. Usually, when he got his bi-weekly mani/pedi, he went with clear polish because of his public service job, but earlier that day, he asked for alternating fingernails of red and green. After a good night's sleep, he'd been able to forgo the concealer and wore a little mascara and an eyeliner he saved for special occasions. It was black but with a bit of sparkle. On his lips, he'd opted for a red-tinted gloss.

As the three owners and their significant others took the stage, the music pumping through the club's speakers was turned off. Everyone in the pit and watching from the balcony level turned their attention to the stage. Spotlights fell upon Master Ian, Angie, Master Devon, Kristen, Master Mitch, and his two submissives, his switch husband, Tyler, and their wife, Tori. Master Ian spoke first. "Good evening, everyone. Looks like we have a full house again tonight. Thank you all for joining us, not just tonight but throughout the year. When Master Mitch first approached my brother and me about opening a BDSM club here in Tampa, we didn't foresee our membership growing to almost five hundred kinky people. But here you all are, and we thank you for helping us make The Covenant the premier private lifestyle club on the Florida Gulf Coast."

A thunderous round of applause, accompanied by cheers and whistles, filled the air and echoed off the high ceiling. The Dom-in-Residence handed the microphone to Master Mitch, who had to wait almost a full minute before the din died down enough for him to be heard. "Thanks, everyone. And thank you to my cousins for taking a chance on my crazy idea and making my dream come true.

"Now, as you all know, tonight's Secret Santa event is for our unattached Doms and submissives. I'll hand the microphone over to Kristen and Angie in a moment, and they'll go over the rules, but we also have a holiday surprise for everyone. For those who may not have noticed yet, several ticket booths are set up down here, upstairs on the balcony, and out in the garden. Make sure you stop at one of them to get in on our big raffle. Tonight, we're giving away a few trips to Master Key, our new lifestyle resort in the Florida Keys."

The crowd went wild again, and Master Mitch chuckled. "All right, everyone. Fucking chill out so I can tell you how you can win." He pointed toward the big St. Andrew's cross at the back of the stage. In front of it was a small table with a raffle drum. When it came time, the drum would be spun to mix up the entries before the winning tickets were chosen. "We've already put one ticket per member into the drum—we wanted to make sure everyone had a chance, even if they couldn't be here tonight. If you want to purchase more tickets, they're twenty-five dollars each, five for a hundred dollars, or twenty-five for five hundred dollars. You can use your membership cards to make your purchase, which will be added to next month's invoices. What we raise tonight will go to our favorite charity—Healing Heroes—which my beautiful wife founded several years ago. The money you fork over will help train rescue dogs to be partnered with veterans suffering from PTSD."

There was a brief round of applause before the Dom continued. "We'll draw five lucky winners who can bring one guest with them for a three-night stay of their choice of dates, subject to room availability. You'll have to call the reservation number to see what dates are open. The only other thing you have to arrange is your transportation. The winners will also receive a welcome basket upon their arrival, filled with all sorts of surprises, and dinner for two, prepared by renowned Chef Adley Markham in the resort's five-star restaurant, Decadence. Each trip is valued at over thirty-five hundred dollars. Now, there's plenty of time to get your tickets—the booths will be open for the next three hours, so you don't have to rush—and then at midnight, we'll return to the stage to pull the winners. Your names will be on the tickets, so you don't need to be present. I'll send out emails tomorrow notifying any winners not here with all the paperwork and instructions for claiming the trip.

"And don't forget, in two weeks, we'll be closed on Friday and Saturday for Christmas. If you plan to join us for our big New Year's Eve party, please visit The Covenant's website and RSVP as soon as possible. It's limited to three hundred members because we're having a catered buffet, a bunch of demonstrations, and fun activities, and our very own Summer Hayes will give us a short performance that night."

Again, the crowd went nuts. Summer was one of the world's hottest country music singers and a submissive in the lifestyle. While she still recovered from injuries received in a motor vehicle accident last year in California and hadn't returned to touring or recording yet, she lived in the nearby Indian Shores. Like many of the club members who'd gotten to know her in the privacy of The Covenant, Matthew adored her. She was the sweetest thing, and everyone had been devastated when she was almost killed in the rollover. Thankfully, she was on the mend.

Mitch passed the microphone to Angie, who immediately gave it to Kristen, although her words faintly came through the speakers. "She's in charge. This was her idea."

Kristen laughed and held the mic in front of her mouth. "It might've been my idea, but you figured out how we should do it. Anyway, here are the rules. When we're ready, Angie, Tori, and I will hand out pens and envelopes with the clues to the eligible subs. Do not open them until we tell you to. The participating Dominants are wearing a red or green light-bulb necklace. The Doms will turn on their lights when we tell the subs to open their envelopes." She briefly consulted a piece of paper with the list of things she wanted to mention. "The Doms chose their snowflakes based on the sub's sexual orientation, so you don't have to worry about not being properly matched that way. The Doms were also given a copy of their chosen sub's limit list if requested, and as always, hard limits and safewords will be respected. If any problems arise, speak to a dungeon monitor.

"Subs will have thirty minutes to try and figure out who has their snowflake based on the three clues given to them. You cannot ask any Doms any questions—participating or not. You also can't ask Angie, Tori, Sterling, or me to help since we know who was matched with whom." She met Matthew's glare and winked at him. "Yeah, we lied, sweetie. Deal with it."

Numerous chuckles reached his ears, and he glared at Kristen as she continued. "Now, you can confer with your fellow submissives—including those collared or not participating for whatever reason—to figure out who your Dom is for the night. You can also use your envelope to jot down notes— don't use the card for your notes.

"When the thirty minutes is up, you must write down who you think has your snowflake on the back of your clue card. We'll call the subs up here one by one and announce which Dom you wrote down. If you're right, you can choose the type of play you and your Dom will do for the next two hours. If you get it wrong, then your Dom gets to decide. Make sure your decision is final before you write it down because if any names are crossed out on your card, it'll be an automatic loss, and your Dom will get to pick your play. That's why I said not to use your card for notes.

"Are there any questions?"

Matthew glanced around. Everyone seemed to understand how the game was played, and the excitement levels had risen as subs whispered about who they hoped had their snowflake. Matthew knew who he wanted, especially after spotting Master Del a little while ago. The Dom looked like sin incarnate tonight, wearing snug black leather pants, motorcycle boots, and a crimson leather vest without a shirt. Unfortunately, Matthew hadn't been able to catch the man's eye. Much to his disappointment, it seemed as if Master Del's attention was on another single gay sub named Branden. The Dom had probably picked his snowflake. Shit .

"All right, let's get started!" The four men left the women on the stage as Angie and Tori peeled off from Kristen, heading to the opposite sides of the raised platform. "Subs, if your last name starts with A through H, please see Angie. If your last name starts with I through P, then I'll have your envelopes at center stage." She pointed to her left. "And Tori will have Q through Z over on this side."

Three collared subs, carrying boxes of pens, joined the women as the eligible submissives moved toward whoever had their envelope. Matthew stayed where he was because it was the perfect spot to get his from Angie. It only took about five minutes for all the participating subs to get their envelopes and a pen.

Kristen picked up the microphone again. "Okay, we're ready to start. Master Mitch has a stopwatch and will give a five-minute warning and then a one-minute warning. You must hand your clue card to Tori, Angie, or me at the end of the thirty minutes.

"Here we go! Doms, please turn on your Christmas bulbs! Subs, please open your clues! Good luck!"

As glowing bulbs of green and red lit up throughout the crowd, Matthew ripped open the top of his envelope and slid the card out. It had a string of colorful Christmas lights bordering it, and the text was laser-printed with red ink.

Matthew B., here are the clues your Secret Santa provided.

Clue #1: Outside the club, your Secret Santa is tech-savvy.

Clue #2: The cane is your Secret Santa's favorite implement inside the club.

Clue #3: The one thing your Secret Santa doesn't want is for you to call him Daddy.

And, of course, no one immediately came to mind.

Damn. Okay, I can do this. Just think!

"Matthew, c'mere!"

He spun around to see his friend Natalia beckoning him over to where she and four other participating subs were huddled together. A collared submissive named Jamal was with them, offering his services to help each one deduce who their Secret Santa was. After Matthew joined them, Natalia was the first to read the clues off her card. "Okay, clue number one—his favorite piece of equipment is the spanking bench. Clue number two—he loves CIA thrillers. And clue number three—he . . . huh? He wants me to sit on his handlebars? What does that mean?"

Matthew only needed two seconds to figure it out, and he grinned. "I know who that is! It's Master Dimitri! Almost every time he plays, it's on a spanking bench. I also heard him talking to Master Marco a few weeks ago about a CIA thriller he'd read, and it sounded good, so I got the e-book to read after my tests were over. And the handlebars are his mustache!" The Dom had one of those long mustaches that curled up at the ends. For some men, it would probably look weird or old-fashioned, but for the handsome Master Dimitri, it worked.

Another female sub named Kristina agreed with a squeal. " Eep ! That has to be him!"

A smile lit up Natalia's face. "I've wanted to scene with him ever since he uncollared that blond chick—what was her name again?"

"Brenda," Jamal supplied with an eye roll. "The one who thought her shit didn't stink when Master Dimitri wasn't around. I was so glad when they broke up and she stopped coming here." His attitude did a one-eighty as he clapped his hands several times. "Okay, Carly, you're next. Let's do this!"

Carly and then the other three subs—two women and one straight guy—read their clues, but the group could only figure out for certain who Kristina's Secret Santa was—Mistress Odette. The sub was a little leery since the Domme was relatively new to the club, and they'd never played together. Kristina was on the shy side and felt more comfortable with the Dommes the longer she knew them. Matthew and Natalia reassured the other sub that she had nothing to worry about. Mistress Odette wasn't a sadist, and the few female submissives who'd scened with the Domme all had nice things to say about her.

Master Mitch's voice boomed over the speakers and announced, "Five-minute warning. Subs, you have five minutes left."

Jamal's dark eyes rounded, and he rotated his hands frantically. "Shit! Hurry, Matthew, you're the last one! Give us your clues!"

After he read them off, he looked at his friends expectantly but was disappointed when no one appeared to have a light-bulb moment. Everyone took a few seconds to glance around the large crowd, hoping for inspiration.

"Hmm, that's hard," Kristina said. "Maybe Master Alan?"

The Dom was an archaeologist and a college professor in his late fifties. While he liked using the cane during scenes, sex had never been included whenever Matthew played with him, which was fine since there was no attraction between them other than a masochist being drawn to a sadist.

Natalia shook her head. "Nope, it can't be him. He's definitely not tech-savvy. Last week, he picked up a brand-new smartphone right before coming here because his old flip phone finally died. I had to show him how to turn it off before he came inside so he wouldn't have to walk back out and leave it in his car." The only place cell phones were allowed to be used in the club was in the lobby. If they were brought inside, they had to be off and left in the member's locker. Occasionally, if a member was on-call, like one of the doctors or detectives, they could leave their cell phone at the front desk. If it rang or a text came in, whoever was working at the desk would get a message to them immediately so they could return the call.

"Okay, then, who else?" Jamal asked. "Master Victor?"

"I doubt it," Matthew replied, shaking his head in frustration. "The one and only time we scened together, it didn't exactly go well—kinda boring for both of us. That, and I know he looked at Angelo's limit list last week."

"Well, crap. It's gotta be someone."

"One-minute warning!" Master Mitch's announcement came over the speakers, and Matthew and the rest of his group started to panic.

Scanning the room once again, Matthew caught site of Master Del's profile. He stood toward the other side of the stage, talking to Masters Brody and Marco. "What about Master??—"

"Wait! I think I know who it is," Natalia interrupted. "Master Jonah!"

Matthew's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

She rushed to explain. "I've met him a few times while working the front desk. He just joined about a month ago and is kinda geeky in a sexy way, so I'm sure he's computer savvy. I think he's in his forties and has been in the lifestyle for a long time. Last week, I saw him give a demo to a baby Dom who was interested in caning. I'm not sure whether or not he likes to be called Daddy, but two out of three is better than anything else, right?"

Matthew reluctantly agreed. If it was a new Dom, he might've randomly chosen a snowflake, intending to meet a sub he didn't know yet. "Okay, Master Jonah it is."

He jotted down the name on the back of his clue card just as Kristen announced the time was up and the subs had to hand in their guesses. Hopefully, whichever Dom had gotten his snowflake, Master Jonah or someone else, they'd be able to give Matthew the pain he craved. The stress of the last few weeks in the paramedic program had him in need of the release he could only find with a good sadist. Mentally crossing his fingers and toes, he handed his card to Angie before dropping his pen into one of two baskets on the stage floor, with the empty envelope going into the other. Then, he rejoined his little group and waited with bated breath.