Chapter 21: Kneel

The florist in Chelsea unlocked the back door for us herself.

"Mrs. Bertolini," she said, and bowed her head.

I had worn the collar over a plain black dress, and this time I did not hide it.

Dario walked half a step behind me.

He had never done that in his life.

Down the stairs, the cabinet by the door held the phones of forty members, each in its own numbered slot.

I put mine in slot one.

Then the inner doors opened onto the red room, and everyone in it turned.

I had been blindfolded here, and I had knelt on that floor at his chair.

Now I walked across it with my chin up, and the members stepped back to let me through.

The stage stood at the far end, with one black armchair under the light.

I climbed the three steps.

I sat in the chair, and crossed my legs, and looked down at the room.

"Dario," I said.

He stopped at the foot of the steps.

"Come up."

He came up.

He stood in front of me in his dark suit, with his hands at his sides.

Every eye in the room was on him.

His face was perfectly still.

"Take off your jacket."

He did, and folded it, and set it on the floor.

"The shirt."

He undid it button by button and let it drop.

His chest was broad and scarred, with the dark hair thick across it, and I felt the whole room draw a breath.

"Trousers."

His jaw tightened.

He undid his belt and stepped out of everything until he stood naked in the light with his cock already hard and heavy against his stomach.

"On your knees," I said.

For one moment he did not move.

I saw him look past me to the dark where the members sat.

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