A couple in the row next to them glared at them for talking.
Ronin watched as Iggy uncoiled a lump of hemp rope that looked frayed. He wrapped a half-assed, uneven gauntlet from the girl’s elbows to her wrists. Then he fashioned a chest harness, pinning the girl’s already abused nipples between two tight sections of rope. When he plucked off the clothespins, the rush of blood sent her swaying forward, and he jerked her upright—by yanking on the back of the rope harness.
Next he pushed the girl to the floor and did a cross tie on both ankles. When he started a reverse shrimp tie by connecting the girl’s ankles to her bound arms with no ropes supporting the girl’s legs, or her torso, Ronin almost stormed the stage. This guy didn’t know what the fuck he was doing and there was a real possibility the girl could get hurt.
“Ronin, baby, remember to breathe,” Amery murmured.
“Jesus, Amery, this is all fucking wrong.”
“I know. This place isn’t what I thought it was. We’ll leave as soon as we can.”
That’s when he noticed the guy on stage, who should’ve been focused on his rope model’s frame of mind and physical state of being, was glaring at them.
Ronin glared back.
But Iggy couldn’t hack Ronin’s hard stare for more than five seconds before his gaze darted away.
That’s what I thought, you motherfucking worm, you’re a fraud.
The girl turned her head toward the audience. Her eyes were wide with fear, not glassy from blissed-out rope subspace. She was shaking her head, trying to remove the gag so she could speak. It was obvious she wanted to stop the scene, but Iggy wasn’t paying attention to her.
When her frightened eyes met Ronin’s, he was instantly on his feet, striding onto the stage, snapping, “Yamete!” He crouched and removed the girl’s gag. “You wish to end the scene?” he asked in Japanese.
She nodded.
Ronin stood and reached for the safety scissors next to another pile of ropes.
“What are you doing?” Iggy demanded. “Get off my stage.”
He ignored the man’s blustering and sliced through the gauntlet. Then he snipped the ankle ties and gently lowered her feet parallel to her body. Once the girl was free of ropes, she scurried into the shadows, followed by Iggy when another man strutted onto the stage.
The guy walked right up to Ronin and said, “Play along, Master Black,” and moved center stage to address the audience.
Who the hell was this guy? And how did he know his name?
“The type of bondage we showcase here at Go takes years of dedication, and hours of practice to learn . . . the ropes, so to speak.”
The audience laughed.
Ronin glanced at Amery; the conversation was totally lost on her.
“Sometimes a scene doesn’t proceed as planned. Luckily tonight we had an expert in the audience, and once he saw the potential problems with the scene, he stepped in to stop it.” He not so subtly pushed Ronin into the spotlight. “We are honored to have Master Black with us this evening. Master Black is an accomplished kinbaku and shibari rope master, a true bakushi. Not only has he studied with the great Master Yasuji for the past two decades, he’s been Japan’s record holder for the fastest hojojutsu tie for years. This man knows his way around ropes.”
The audience clapped and whistled.
“While we’re setting up the next demonstration, please stretch your legs, or visit the lounge. And a reminder there is no recording allowed in Go. Thank you.” He bowed to the audience and then faced Ronin.
“Master Black, you have my eternal gratitude for putting an end to that shameful demonstration.” He bowed again. “I’m Go-jen. Owner of Go. I would like a chance to speak with you in my office.”
“As long as my wife can come with us.” Maybe Amery could keep him calm because he was seething.
“Of course. Follow me.”
Ronin held out his hand to Amery when they passed by their row. He expected her to demand to know what was going on—the language barrier put her on edge—but she remained quiet.
Go-jen said, “I apologize for the lowbrow entertainment that forced you to take action.”
“That guy knew little about rope play. How can you pretend those types of scenarios bear any resemblance to kinbaku or shibari?” Ronin demanded.
“I don’t.”
“But don’t you advertise this club as such?”
“Advertising as a ‘bondage club’ leaves the definition open to interpretation. Tonight my usual performer and his model were both out sick. I couldn’t cancel tonight’s first show because of the second act”—Go-jen shot Amery a questioning look—“so my day manager found a replacement. Iggy dabbles in rope play at a fetish club. His job was to tease attendees with a soft-core S-and-M scene. But he is a performer and he took it too far. I would’ve been here to oversee the scene, but transportation issues made me late.”
Ronin translated everything up to that point for Amery.
“So the first time Master Black is in my club is the night everything is fucked up. I imagine the chances of you doing a demo are pretty slim now.”
That took Ronin aback. “What gave you the impression I was here for any reason besides to observe?”
Go-jen looked at Amery.
“What did he say?” Amery asked Ronin.
“He seems to think I’m here to do a demo.”
“You are. Well, technically we are. It was supposed to be a surprise. So, ah . . . surprise.” She looked away.
Ronin touched her chin and forced her attention back to him. “Did Yasuji guilt you into this?”
“No.”
“Then what changed?”
“You changed.” She closed her eyes before she continued. “You don’t understand what it’s been like for me watching you struggle, not only with your jujitsu training limitations, but the limitations I’ve placed on you with public rope play. I told you months ago I’d be willing to do private demos and you’ve not scheduled anything because I don’t think you believe I will actually go through with it.”
She had that right. The owner of Twisted had practically offered Ronin his first-born child if he’d return to the club strictly in an instructor’s role for private lessons. Ronin kept putting him off because after Amery first mentioned the possibility of her participating in private instruction with him, she’d never broached it again. And he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t push her. “Why now?”