Dinosauria

Chapter 1

With some trepidation, Rey Johnson clicked the email open and scanned the contents. She was in! It was her first step into the future by way of the past. She squealed with glee, then covered her phone, and glanced out the door of her office. Fortunately, her assistant and the junior financial advisor were busy and hadn't heard the little cry of joy. Rey jumped up and quietly closed her door. The co-workers would think she was talking to a client, instead of jumping for joy.

Uh, not real jumping. Not like the old days when she was young and had energy and good knees. These days all jumping was strictly virtual.

Rey turned her phone over to look at the email once again. Her pending membership into the Black Spire BDSM club had been accepted. Her friend Bazine would be appropriately appalled, though Rey couldn't care less. This membership was for her and her alone. She'd spent her adult life doing shit she was supposed to do and now she was doing something for her own damn self.

The Black Spire had been listed as a new-ish club on the Fet Life newbie Discord server. Rey hadn't known what a Discord server was when she joined but found it all fascinating. And she could hide who she really was and lurk in the shadows. The reviews said the Spire was a friendly, fun place with lots of social activities and theme parties. Exactly what Rey was looking for.

Back in the day, when Rey was younger, she'd flirted with the BDSM Lifestyle way before it was popularized by bestselling novels and movies. At the age of 23, she'd visited a seedy place way out on Dort Highway, a club that her vanilla friends whispered about. It didn't look like much. When people drove by, all they saw was a badly-lit cracked concrete parking lot and a nondescript gray building. No sign. Only a forbidding steel door. Inside, the place looked like a bar-until patrons paid a huge bouncer to take the narrow stairs down to the dungeon. What Rey saw downstairs took her breath away. Tracie, a kinky acquaintance, spotted her, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into another world.

But the adventure hadn't lasted long. The State Bar, as it was known, ran into legal troubles and eventually closed.

The State Bar was already closed by the time Rey met her ex, married him, and had children. Dash Ko Konnix enjoyed a little bedroom spice-for a time. Eventually, though, he'd become disinterested in Rey, their kids, and the marriage. They never explored the BDSM world together.

Now, Dash was out of her life, the kids were grown and on their own, and Rey was free. She was also a middle-aged financial advisor with hot flashes and prescription blood pressure pills. Running a hand through her short, practical haircut, Rey wondered if she wasn't a bit out of her depth in joining a club. She closed up the email with a sigh and turned back to her list of clients.

***

The welcome email from the Black Spire sat in Rey's in-box for a day or two, while she tried to decide what to do. It included a link to a chat room where new members could talk. One night, after dinner, Rey grabbed a second glass of wine and opened her laptop. It was time to be brave. She clicked the link, created an account and username, and leapt in. Online users sent waves and welcomes. A Moderator asked her to introduce herself a little (without giving away sensitive information, of course).

Rey: I'm Kira. I'm not completely new to the scene, but it's been a while. I'm a cishet female submissive, exploring being a Middle or Little, though I'm not into immersive age play. Just want some cuddles and a break from being in charge of everything in my existence. I'm interested in power-exchange with a Daddy Dom, who will take me to subspace.

Not totally original or amazing. Rey wrinkled her nose. She sounded middle-aged and bland. Better to be honest, though. She'd done her homework: the community put a premium on telling the truth no matter how dull and pedestrian.

She sifted through all the responses. One guy seemed very forward. Another seemed interested in a service sub to kneel at his feet. She didn't think she'd be a good match for him. She wasn't interested in total submission. She was glad to be able to continue defining her interests, even if no particular respondent popped out as a winner.

Rey politely chatted with whomever was there, asking questions, getting the feel of the community. They all seemed so young, though, talking about a Playstation game that had recently been released. It sounded like something her grown son, Jacen, would enjoy. He, his sister, Kaydel, and their friends often had game nights. For Rey, game nights meant Monopoly and Twister. For her kids, now in their late 20s, it was XBox, Playstation, Steam, or roleplaying games, like D&D.

After reading the argument over some character or another, Rey left the chatroom, perhaps a little disappointed. She wondered if the upcoming get-to-know-you Munch would be the same. Surely, there had to be some more mature people there, those who might not be comfortable in an online chatroom. By nature, Rey was someone who liked keeping up with the latest technology. Jacen and Kaydel had always shown her how to work apps and gadgets. Her job required knowledge of new financial programs and she was pretty good at understanding how to navigate the web. But not everyone in her generation felt comfortable creating accounts, jumping into new platforms, and engaging with strangers online. Some didn't know how to work their smartphones.

With a sigh, Rey swallowed the last of her wine, got ready for bed, and opened her latest paperback. She examined the signature on the inside with delight. She'd won a signed copy of the latest Daddy Dom book from her favorite author, Golden Angel. Rey dived back into the book featuring a tall, buff Daddy with hands like dinner plates and a very stern expression. Glorious. As Rey drifted off to sleep, she reminded herself that real life was nothing like fiction-and she shouldn't hope for someone like the big, dark-haired Daddy in the book. He wasn't real.

***

The day of the Munch, Rey's best friend, Bazine Netal, watched Rey poke through her closet, eyeing and then discarding quite a few outfits.

"I don't get it. You're going to meet strangers at a kink club to see if you want to sleep with them? Or worse?" Baz had been voicing variations of this sentiment since she arrived at Rey's doorstep. Rey was beginning to regret telling her friend about the club.

Rey tossed a matronly blue dress, which she didn't remember owning, onto the growing pile. It slithered off onto the floor. She grunted as she bent down to retrieve it. Her back had gotten tweaked when she'd attempted a work-out. She'd gotten out of the habit of going to the gym. Now, she was paying for it.

"Yeah. Kind of." Rey held up a pair of black work slacks. "Would these do?"

"Sure. I guess. What do you wear to an orgy?"

Rey fished through the blouses with the pants over one arm. "It's not an orgy. It's a meet-up, like a cocktail party, but they don't serve alcohol. You get to meet people face-to-face and just talk."

She held up a dark purple long sleeved blouse. "You like this color?" She pulled it up toward her face.

"Not on you. Your skin is too golden for purple. I don't know why you have that thing." Baz made a face and fingered the blouse.

Rey stuffed it back in her closet. "Because I don't know what looks good anymore."

"You've given up, like the rest of us."

"Hmm." Rey was on to other blouses. Why did she have so many and yet so few that made her happy? She was used to just slapping on something comfortable, hopefully without stains. Or donning a prim, tailored work suit, of which she had many. She found a flowing shark-bite tunic in soft orange and pink with a few swipes of sage green.

"You should give this up, too. It's just weird." Bazine stood with a small grunt.

Rey eyed her friend. "The blouse? Or the kink?"

"The kink. Blouse is acceptable. Is this munchy thing for all ages or just for people of a certain maturity level?" Baz made air quotes with her fingers.

Rey pulled the top off its hanger to shake it out. "You mean middle-aged people?"

"Aren't we looking middle age in the rearview mirror at this point?"

Rey snorted. "Speak for yourself."

Baz tucked her chin. "Look at you, girl. You're not a spring chicken anymore. You've had two kids. You can't compete with young things in 3-inch heels and black leather dresses."

Rey lowered the blouse. "I'm not trying to compete with those women." But she sounded more sure than she felt. This was a crazy idea. Rey had visions of lithe, tanned, ripped people gazing at one another with clear, sparkling eyes, looking for partners to scene with. Who the hell would want to scene with her middle-aged, rounded self?

There was a real possibility that she'd go home in defeat.

On the other hand, she'd come this far and kink knew no age limit. She hoped.

"I have to try," she told Bazine. "Or I'm going to regret it."

"Your funeral."

"Toast me at the wake," Rey retorted as she ducked into the en-suite to change.

She returned to the bedroom to stand under Baz's purse-lipped gaze. Rey twirled and arched her neck, letting the shark bite blouse swirl around her.

"Thoughts?" She wasn't going to let Bazine's frown annoy her.

Her friend's expression cleared. "Yeah, you look good."

Rey gave Baz a dazzling smile. "Thank you."

"For an old gal." Baz winked at her.

"What?" Rey glared at her friend in mock outrage.

"Hey, I give you props for trying this cockamamie scheme."

"Cock being the operative word."

Baz groaned as she walked toward the door. "I don't even want to think about it." She turned. "But have fun with the perverts."

"I will. And we're not perverts, you kink-shaming bitch."

Baz snorted. "Says you, you ancient degenerate."

"Get the fuck out," Rey said, mildly, opening her front door. She gestured toward Baz's vehicle.

"Going, leaving. Call me when you're done. Dying to know what's gonna happen."

Rey closed the door behind her friend and leaned against it. "So am I."

***

The Black Spire Club, unlike the old State Bar, was no longer shamefully hidden on Dort Highway with the strip clubs and plasma donation centers. It was tucked away on Brush Alley, which ran parallel to Court Street, a main thoroughfare near downtown. There was a small section of angle parking as well as overflow around the corner. Rey had to park there since all the other places were full. A small sign pointed toward the alley with the words "Black Spire." Once in the alley, Rey walked down cobblestones, past anonymous metal doorways until she reached another small sign with the name of the establishment on it. A young security guard stood outside, looking at his phone.

Rey gave him a smile.

"ID, please," he said with a short nod.

She passed him her license. He handed it back without comment. "What's your business here this evening?"

"I'm here for the Munch."

He nodded. "Okay." He opened the door for her. "That way, ma'am."

Rey walked into a foyer with a sign on the wall, asking people to sign in. Another individual, a young woman, sat behind a desk with a list and a bucket of wrist bands.

"Hi, I'm Bo. Are you a member yet? Or just visiting?"

"A member." Rey pulled out a copy of her confirmation letter.

Bo looked at it. "License? We won't use your real name in the club, but we need to verify it against our member files. You're new, right?"

"Yes." Rey handed over her card. She wanted to ask Bo how old she was but refrained. The woman looked like she was about Rey's daughter's age.

The interior looked like a regular bar, with a long polished wood counter, tables and chairs in clusters, a TV on mute, soft music, and congenial atmosphere. This area of the club looked nothing like a kink club. People sat at tables or perched at the bar sipping drinks and chatting. To Rey's relief, there seemed to be all kinds of different people and body types, though the crowd ran a little young. If she had to guess, she'd say everyone was in their 20s or 30s. People welcomed her and she gave her club name, Kira, repeatedly. The group seemed friendly. One fellow with bright yellow hair combed over his forehead approached.

"Your first time?" His eyes sparkled light blue.

"Yes." Rey took a swallow of her sparkling water and nearly dribbled it down her front. She wiped her lip, belatedly remembering that she'd put on some muted lipstick.

"Are you interested in coming to the club to play?" He eyed her. "I'm called Moff, by the way."

"Yes, I am. I'm Kira." Rey winced. She was a brilliant conversationalist at the moment with her non-answers. She straightened her shoulders. "I dabbled in the Lifestyle in the 80s but dropped it when I got married. I'm back." She gave him a winning smile.

His eyebrows rose. "The 80s? Like, the 1980s?"

"Yeah. That was back in the day. Before BDSM got popular." She forged ahead. "Before it was even called BDSM."

"Ah," he said. "Yeah. I wasn't born yet. I missed all that."

"Sure, sure." She paused. "Let me ask you a question."

"Of course, I'm here to help."

"What's the median age here?"

"Uh, median age?" Moff looked puzzled.

"The middle of the age range."

"Middle age? We have a few middle-aged people." He pointed at a cluster. "I think they're in their late 30s maybe."

"No, I mean, what is the age that divides the population into two parts of equal size?" Rey cringed at her crisp financial advisor voice.

"I don't follow." He scrunched his forehead.

Of course not. Nobody knew what "median" meant.

"I'm just wondering if there are any people here who are older and if that population is small or large."

"Yeah, no."

Rey looked at him. "Yeah, no?"

"We welcome everyone. Are you looking for something in particular? Some age play, maybe?"

"Kind of."

"We have people interested in playing with a mommy." He looked around. "Oh yeah, talk to Ezra. Hey!" He waved and a dark-haired young man bounded over. "This is Kira. She's looking for some age play with a younger person." He turned to her. "Man? Woman? Gender-fluid?"

"Um. I don't know. A man because I'm straight, but I don't want to be a Top."

Ezra eyed her. "Oh, you like Daddies or Daddy Doms?"

Rey felt her face flush. She hadn't really spoken this stuff out loud before.

"Hey." Moff smiled. "It's hard the first time. It's fine. You don't have to spill."

"We're trying to see who to introduce you to," Ezra added. "I mean, I'm a Daddy Dom. We could talk and see if we're compatible."

Don't judge a book by its youthful cover, Rey chanted to herself. This guy looked like a kid, like her 27-year-old son. How the hell was he a Daddy? She could see his eyes narrowing as she hedged.

"Or," he added, "I can introduce you to some others."

"I'm sorry," Rey began.

The door crashed open to admit a tall man in a black suit with matching duffle bag. He strode through the small crowd, nodding and saying hello. His eyes settled on Rey for a moment as her mouth dropped open. She noted the silver swaths in his dark hair, the frosting on his goatee, and wrinkles around his eyes. He was older. He wore the finely-tailored suit with a crisp white shirt and tie and looked like he owned the whole world. When he raked Rey with a gaze, his eyebrows snapped into a frown behind his glasses. He looked absolutely ferocious.

A Dom.

No doubt about it.

He walked through the fire doors and allowed them to swing shut behind him.

She turned to her companions. "Who was that?"

Moff sucked his teeth. "Whoa, Daddy. I forgot how good he looks in a suit."

"Same," Rey breathed.

Ezra patted Moff's shoulder. "Down, boy. Kira, that's Kylo. He's doing a demo next weekend for us." He grinned at Rey. "Wanna come?

Did she want to come? With that big guy? Yes, please. That wasn't what Ezra meant-or maybe it was. On the spot, Rey signed up to watch the demo on impact play run by the mysterious older man. She hoped he was a member of the Spire because he was who she wanted to scene with. Hands down. Right on her ass.

Chapter 2

After their usual Saturday breakfast, Bazine trailed Rey around the mall's main department store. "What exactly are you looking for?"

Rey hummed. "Something a little less workplace and a little more club." She shifted dresses on hangers in the Women's Plus department.

Bazine held up a dress. "So what's this demo you're attending? You've been really cagey about it."

"Have not," Rey argued. But she had. She couldn't bring herself to type it out in a text or say it out loud to her friend. She pulled out a purple flowered boho dress and held it up to herself.

"No purple." Baz yanked a bilious green button-down shirt dress off the rack.

"No Kermit the Frog." Rey wrinkled her nose. "I kind of want fetish wear, to be honest." Saying it out loud was perhaps easier than she'd thought. It was the truth.

"Keep your voice down." Baz looked around to see if anyone was in earshot. "This is a nice store, not Frederick's of Hollywood."

"You know." Rey stared at the racks in disgust. "That would be the place to go."

Baz snorted. "Sure. Next time. I don't think those stores even exist anymore. And they don't have plus sizes." She pulled a silvery dress off the rack. "What about this?"

Rey fingered the shiny fabric. "Yes, Baz. This looks great. Good call." She gave her friend a high five.

The dresshad definite possibilities with its sweetheart neckline and shirred waist on one side. It hid a multitude of flaws. She tried it on and purchased it, along with gray thigh highs, hot pink flowered underwear and bra set, and some silver mid-heeled shoes.

After purchasing the items, Rey sat with Baz at the coffee shop in the mall.

"So, what is this event?" Baz pinned Rey with a narrow-eyed look. "Is it at the place?"

Rey dropped her eyes and stirred her coffee aimlessly. "Yeah, it's a class." She shifted in her seat. This was always where things got uncomfortable with people who didn't quite get it.

"For what? Who needs a class in kinky sex?"

Rey sighed. Where to begin?

"It's not just about sex. It's about power exchange and enjoying a particular mindset, a special dynamic between a Dom and submissive."

Baz winked. "Sure, sure. I've read the books like everyone else. There's toys and bondage and then crazy fucking."

"Sometimes," Rey hedged. She found herself reluctant to talk to someone who might willfully misunderstand. Baz was like that. She'd pick a fight based on nothing. The only problem was that Rey never anticipated the angle-that is, what Baz would choose to pick on. It gave Rey a headache sometimes. Baz could be a judgy bitch sometimes, even though her heart was in the right place.

Baz leaned forward. "Am I supposed to guess what the class is about?"

"No."

"You don't want to talk about it? I'm dying to know." Baz's eyes sparkled.

"You should come to a Munch, then. Everyone is welcome. You just have to show your ID and pay a cover charge." Rey tried to make her voice sound more reasonable than she felt. She wanted to snap at Bazine and her misunderstanding, which didn't seem fair. But Rey was tired of explaining herself.

Bazine waved airly, rather dismissively. "I don't want to know that badly. But the guy who is teaching looks older, you said. More our age?"

"Yes." Rey remembered the tall man's air of maturity and confidence. He was a huge presence in the room, even though he only walked through it. Of course, that could just be the fact that he was clearly a Dom.

"So, if I guess the nature of class correctly, will you tell me about it?"

"Before or after the class itself?" Rey sipped her coffee.

"Sneaky. I mean right now. You signed up for the class, you said. It's happening later tonight. Inquiring minds want to know what you're doing."