by Livia Grant
“Well, the first few days he was out there, he was doing what I asked him. Watching. Reporting in. He took some pictures and I’ve had Cameron working, tracking things down back here. Rach got sick before you heard the news. It looks like Jake has a side business running a whole host of 1-800 sex lines and, even more lucratively, he’s set up several fake studios in a warehouse he rents. He has about a dozen women online in real time, doing varying degrees of depraved sex acts on-demand. Cam tracked most of ‘em down, and you know it’s pretty hardcore shit when it makes me uneasy to watch it.”
“Yeah, but is it illegal?”
“That’s the thing. We haven’t been able to link him to anything illegal yet, other than the fact that a couple of the sites dabble in non-con material. They flash disclaimers that the women are actors and have signed contracts to consent, but Dylan reports that more than a few women leaving the warehouse were crying or being helped by their friends this week. Davenport himself carried one chick out wrapped in blankets. He drove her to some apartment building and spent an hour inside with her before he left.”
This was the part Lukus most wanted to talk to Derek about. “I’m getting worried about your brother,” he continued. “He’s been out there alone for almost a week now. Davenport’s not stupid. He’s gonna make him. He’s changed cars and done the normal recon protocol shit, but let’s face it, Dylan isn’t trained, and I can tell he’s getting pissed at me insisting he sits on the sidelines to just observe as women are being exploited. His words. Not mine.”
Derek’s reaction confirmed Lukus’s worries. “Fuck, you need to get him out of there. There is no way Dylan is gonna sit in his car and look on while a woman is roughed up. I take it he hasn’t seen the websites in action?”
“Do I look like a moron? I’ve kept that part from him. He doesn’t need to know what’s going on inside that warehouse, but he’s a smart kid. He’s putting it together on his own, and I hear it in his voice. He isn’t going to sit on his ass much longer. I came to see if you could go to help him tomorrow, but I can tell the answer is no. I’ll talk to Tiff tonight when I see her after the show. I think I’ll head out there in the morning. She has some bachelorette party tomorrow night anyway, and Saturday she’ll be busy with prom shit.”
Derek sounded surprised. “So, she really is letting you do shows? I’d love to see that.”
“She isn’t letting me do anything. I’m doing shows. Period.”
“Yeah, right.”
“If you must know, I’ve conned Mistress Martha into doing a few shows to try it out. I know she’ll never want to take it on full-time, but she always loved taking the stage with Robert, and she’s been lonely. I convinced her that punishing other people’s subs might help her snap out of her funk. She’s gonna give it a shot this weekend.”
“That’s a good idea. If you end up going out to Cali, I could maybe take some shows. I don’t want to be gone too long, but I can get one of her sisters or her mom to come sit with Rach for a few hours.”
“How do you explain the Daddy/baby crap to them?” Lukus asked.
“Her family’s known for years about that part of our marriage. They used to give me shit about being a domineering ass, but they’ve seen how happy Rachel is, and have come to terms with our full-time D/s relationship. All they ask is for us to be careful when the kids are around, which I get. If only my own family would get on board. My mom came to visit once, and walked in on me spanking Rachel—and now regularly warns me that women don’t like cavemen. Can you believe that shit? Rachel is my life.”
“Yeah, and she’s lucky it was a just a spanking she walked in on. Pretty tame, all things considered.”
“No shit.”
They were interrupted by Lukus’s cell phone ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw it was Dylan. He checked the time and saw it was just before seven here. That made it five in the afternoon in California. Lukus hadn’t expected to hear from Dylan yet. He answered, putting the call on speakerphone.
“Hey, it’s early. What’s happening out there?” He could hear pounding music in the background.
“I hate this asshole. That’s what’s happening. Please tell me it’s time to beat the shit out of him, because I’ve just about had it.” Dylan was shouting to be heard over the music. Not exactly a smart thing to do if Davenport was close enough to hear him.
“Where are you?” Lukus asked.
“Every day the asshole leaves his office, picks up a different woman, they go to dinner, and then he takes her home and he goes inside just long enough for a romp. Then, like clockwork, he leaves to go to the warehouse. Sometimes he picks up seedy-looking women to give them a ride there. Other times, he’s gone in alone. Tonight, he switches it up. I’m sitting here watching him at the other end of the bar scaring the shit out of an innocent-looking bartender. Fuck.”
“What?”
“He keeps grabbing her arm. She’s trying to get away from him, but he’s hurting her.” Dylan sounded furious.
“What the fuck are you doing inside there? I told you to stay in the damn car. He’s gonna make you if you keep following him into all of these places.”
“Fuck you. This guy is a predator, and there’s no way I was going to let him near Hannah without keeping an eye on her.”
“Who the hell is Hannah?” It was Derek pressing his brother for answers this time.
“Hey Derek. How’s Rachel?”
“She’s fine. Who’s Hannah?”
“No one,” Dylan said.
Lukus had a bad feeling about this one. “You’ve been talking to some of the women he’s been seen with, haven’t you? I told you under no circumstances were you to do interviews without backup, but you didn’t listen to me, did you?”
“Screw you. You expect me to sit on my ass while he screws around, scaring all of these women? What kind of a jerk do you take me for?”
Lukus could hear the emotion in his voice.
This is not good.
“Alright, listen to me. I want you to stand up and walk out. Right. This. Minute. If that’s Hannah there, and she sees you, she’s going to react. Davenport will notice. You’re gonna find yourself in a world of hurt,” Lukus told him.
“I’m not leaving Hannah unprotected. I didn’t have to phone you. I called to let you know things are escalating. If you want in on the action, I suggest you get your ass on a plane—or you’re gonna get here after the fireworks are over.”
Derek and Lukus shared a worried look before Derek took over. “You listen to me, you little twerp. You get the hell out of there, and go back to your hotel and wait there.” Lukus sent his friend a silent message. Derek read it. “Lukus is getting on a red-eye later tonight and will be there by morning. You’ve done good up until now, but you need to wait for backup.”
“You wouldn’t if you were here.”
“The hell I wouldn’t. This guy is violent. Don’t be stupid. Now get your ass out of there.”
“Fine. But you better be here by the morning or I make no promises.” The call dropped.
Lukus saw the worry on Derek’s face. “He’s not going to go back to the hotel, is he?”
“Not a chance in hell. Who do we know out in California?”
Chapter Three
Brianna
Crack!
“Oh God. That’s it!” Brianna had lost track of time as she was tied immobile to their new spanking bench. She was on the receiving end of a fiery paddling from her loving husband. The punishing strokes, delivered with Markus’s old fraternity paddle, had been varied in pace and strength. He played her body like a musical instrument, taking Brianna to high highs, ready to spill into a powerful orgasm, before bringing her back down again, forcing her to wait for the elusive high she’d been chasing.
Markus was careful to remind her that tonight was not about punishment. In fact, she’d been an exceptionally good girl this week. Even in her sex-hazed mental state, Brianna recognized how lucky she was that her husband was e
xperienced in the BDSM lifestyle. He may have been slow to recognize her desperate need for his strict physical discipline, but he was making up for lost time.
They’d spent every evening this week trying out the array of sexual wonders their new dungeon held. Every night, Brianna left the room snuggled in Markus’s arms as he carried her naked, back to their bedroom—her body properly punished and sated, her mind at peace, and her heart more in love with her husband than the night before. She had never been happier.
Crack!
His next strike brought her back to the present. Her groan betrayed how close she was to coming. She pushed the urge down.
“Brianna. You’re fighting it. You’re not ready for it to end yet, my little pain slut?”
How could he have known? No verbal answer was required. She couldn’t form words if she had to. The pain was all consuming. The flaming burn across her entire ass and upper thighs had a direct line to her sexual core. Her breath was shallow as she struggled to stave off her orgasm as long as possible. It got harder when Markus cupped her left breast in his large hand, squeezing it painfully tight before pinching her nipple with what felt like all his strength just as his right hand brought the heavy paddle down, perfectly centered on the sensitive sit-spots of both legs.
That was the one. The strike that pushed her over the edge of the cliff, free-falling into the kind of orgasm she could only achieve through pain. The kind of orgasm so addictive, she’d been stupid enough to risk her marriage in search of it weeks before. As she gasped for breath, Bri realized how lucky she was to have her husband delivering her drug of choice.
When she felt his steel-hard cock pierce her dripping pussy in one powerful insertion, she was reminded that Markus was getting something out of this arrangement, too. They’d never had better sex than these last few weeks. Gone was the gentle lovemaking she’d grown impatient with. She hoped it would return in small doses at some time in the future, but for now, she was more than happy to have her husband fuck her with abandon after their nightly exploration into pain and pleasure.
Markus stood behind her as she was bent over, secured tightly by leather straps to the spanking bench. The furniture had padded ledges for her knees. The whole device was adjustable and tonight, he had splayed her legs as wide apart as the apparatus would allow. Bri felt her wetness as their bodies slammed together. Each connection of his body against her flaming skin renewed the pain of her spanking, bringing her close to another orgasm within a short minute.
His grunts, as he pistoned her, only added to her excitement. “Oh God. Markus! More!”
His thrusts stilled. He remained buried deep in her folds, leaning over her back to speak deceivingly softly in her ear. “That’s a naughty girl. What’s my name when we’re in this room?”
Oh, God. She really had forgotten in the heat of the moment.
“I’m so sorry, Master, sir.”
Markus tsked in a playful tone. Still, the punishment for her misstep was pure torture for Brianna. Slipping out of her hot folds, he stepped away from her body to walk to the front of the bench.
Brianna’s head was being supported by a chin rest that was perfectly placed to hold her head up and facing forward. Until Markus had stepped in front of her, she had a perfect view of the scene in the full floor-to-ceiling mirror covering one whole wall of the dungeon. Instead of their reflection, she now caught a glimpse of her husband’s glistening cock before he placed the tip against her lips, plunging forward to impale himself down her throat, triggering her gag reflex. She struggled to accommodate his cock as phlegm coated her throat and tears spilled from her eyes.
The taste of her essence was all-consuming as he fucked her mouth, slow and deep. As much as she loved sucking her husband off, Brianna recognized this for what it was: a tangible correction for her misstep in addressing him. Markus had discovered that, unlike when being ridden hard in her pussy and ass, Brianna had yet to figure out how to convince her body to orgasm while being fucked down her throat. While she did love sucking his manhood, she hated when Markus wasted a perfectly good load of hot cum down her throat when he could be depositing it deep in her other holes, instead.
His thrusts were coming faster as he grabbed hold of her hair, helping to immobilize her completely, putting his thrusting cock in complete control of the depth and pace of her facial fucking. She could feel the telltale signs her husband was about to shoot white ropes of jizz when he abruptly pulled away from her body, leaving her gasping for fresh air while he resumed his place behind her.
His final ride to orgasm was hard and fast. Her eyes were watering from the skull fucking. She blinked away the tears, bringing the picture of her husband’s abandoned pleasure clearly into focus in the reflection of the mirror. They made the perfect picture of Dominance and submission as their eyes locked in the mirror.
“That’s it, my little pain slut.”
Rapture was cresting. Brianna closed her eyes, only to be barked at. “Open those eyes. Always open. Always ready to show me your pleasure and pain.”
It was hard, but she managed to keep her eyes on her husband as joint pleasure consumed them. Her pussy was wonderfully sore as Markus remained balls-deep, leaning over her trapped body to tweak her nipples as they enjoyed this post-fuck intimacy.
Minutes later, he was lifting her in his arms to carry her to their master bedroom two stories above. They’d leave their Master/slave personas here, replaced with their loving husband/wife roles. They often took a long shower or soaking bath together before bed, but tonight, Markus pulled back the bedspread to tuck Brianna between the cool sheets. She hadn’t realized how tired she was.
“You stay here, sweetheart. I’ll get a warm, wet cloth to wash you and then we’ll snuggle.”
Her eyes were already closed. “Hmm-mm. I love you.”
He kissed her forehead. “I love you more, Brianna.”
Markus
Markus was preparing the warm cloth for his wife when his cell phone rang. It was Lukus’s ring tone.
This can’t be good at this hour.
“Hey. What’s up?”
“I need your help.” Lukus was speaking rapidly. “Dylan’s about to screw up. Derek can’t leave Rachel, so I have to get out there. Can you take care of Tiff and make sure she gets back safe from that bachelorette party tomorrow night?”
“Why? What’s changed? I thought you were gonna send Derek or Z out when they could go?”
“It can’t wait. I just saw Derek tonight. He’s never gonna want to leave Rachel that long and honestly, I don’t blame him. Dylan is getting himself into trouble. I need to get out there to take charge.”
“What kind of trouble?” Markus asked.
“He’s getting too close. Davenport may be a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them. He deals with shady people. He has his radar up, and Dylan isn’t experienced enough to dance with this guy. We have too much at stake to let this go sideways.”
Markus hated letting others take charge of something he had so much invested in. “Did he fuck it up?”
“I honestly don’t know. That’s why I need to get out there. I should have gone earlier. I just hate to leave Tiff right now.”
Markus heard a beep just as Lukus told him, “Hey, he’s calling again. I’ll conference him in.”
Markus used the waiting time to gently clean the remnants of their passionate sex from his wife’s body. She was already asleep as he sat on the side of the bed next to her. He was stroking her long, dark hair as Dylan came onto the line, shouting in anger.
“That fucker just forced a crying woman who was trying to get away into his car and drove off. I swear to God, I’m gonna kill him when I find him again.”
Lukus was trying to calm him down. “What do you mean, when you find him again? You lost him?”
“Hell, yeah! I’m in this rented piece of shit trying to blend in. He’s driving his top end Corvette Stingray. What do you think?” Dylan spat.
“Did he make you? D
oes he know you were trailing him?” Markus knew Lukus well enough to hear the strained restraint he was using. “Well?”
“I know he doesn’t know who I am or why I’m tracking him, but yeah. He knows I was following him.”
“God damn it! You had one fucking job. Sit outside and observe from afar. You just couldn’t handle it, could you?” Lukus exploded.
“Screw you. You wouldn’t have sat in the car either if you’d seen the way he’s treating these women. I’ve seen him with dozens of them. Most of them look like they are on board with what they get and even like it, but a few of them—shit, they look scared.”
“All right. Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re going back to your hotel and you’re gonna stay there. Take a shower. Order a pizza. Watch a movie. Sleep. In that order. I’m on my way to the airport. I’ll be there by morning. We’ll make our next plan then. Together. Do you hear me?”
When Dylan was silent, Lukus repeated his orders. His cold command finally brought Dylan in line.
“Fine. I don’t know where he went, anyway. I’ve looked for him at his house and the warehouse, and he’s not there.”
“To the hotel,” Lukus said.
“I’ll be there, but we’re going on offense with this prick after you get here, right?”
“Oh yeah. And Dylan? Watch your back.”
“I will. See you when you get here.” He dropped from the call.
Markus looked down at his beautiful wife. A fierce anger consumed him at the memories of all Jake Davenport had done to the woman he loved, what he tried to do to their marriage.
That prick needs to be stopped, and I need to be there to see his face when it happens.
“Lukus, when you get to the airport, buy two tickets. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can,” Markus said.
