Dungeon Building

by Melinda Barron

  Evelyn hoped she hadn’t missed anything too important while she’d been daydreaming about Logan Hendricks. If she was going to act like an addled schoolgirl, this wasn’t going to work. She had a job to do, and she needed to concentrate.

  She flipped the page on her notebook, hiding the list, but she couldn’t help but think about it as the meeting crawled on. The item she kept thinking about was the spreader bar.

  In her fantasy, she was kneeling on the couch, the bar attached between her legs, keeping them wide open.

  Her arms were handcuffed behind her back, and Logan was slapping the flogger between her legs. It was hitting her pussy just right, and she was just about to come. The strands hit her slit once, twice, three times, the tips slipping inside her wetness and striking her clit, but her orgasm was just out of reach. Logan wasn’t putting enough oomph behind his strikes. He was drawing it out, and it was oh, so sweet.

  “Please, harder,” she murmured, realizing too late she’d said the words out loud.

  “What did you say, Evie?” Michael Jugg asked. He was sitting two chairs over from her. He owned the local grocery store.

  Get a grip, she yelled internally. “Nothing. I was just wondering how much longer the meeting was going to run.”

  “Me too,” he said with a laugh. “I have a business to get back to.”

  “And I have stories to write so I’m not behind,” she whispered. “They keep repeating the same things.” At least she hoped they did. What she really wanted to do was go home and get ready for her date with Logan. It was their first public outing. She wondered how it would go.

  * * * *

  “Logan, in my office.”

  Logan set his pen on the desk and stood. When the chief yelled out across the room, it wasn’t a good thing. Jesse Blackwell was ten years Logan’s senior, and a great police chief. He was also a Dom in search of a sub, since his wife had passed away two years ago.

  He’d told Logan several times that he was ready, if Logan had any female friends that were of the submissive persuasion. Logan had mentioned a few, and the chief had told him they were all too young for him.

  “I want a woman at least in her late thirties,” Jesse had said. Logan had told him he would continue the search.

  When he was in the office, Logan closed the door.

  “I want you working with Penn on this mayor thing,” Jesse said. “We have to get to the bottom of this and fast.”

  “Okay.” Logan sat down in the chair. “Does he know that?”

  Steve Penn was the captain, and not one who took well to help from others.

  “Yes, he does. To tell the truth, he actually looked relieved. Charlie’s really pissed about this, and he wants it solved, like yesterday, so push everything else aside and work only on this.”

  “Got it.” Logan stretched out his legs.

  “Of course you can keep your date with the lovely newspaper woman tonight.” Jesse chuckled. “Is her pussy tight?”

  “Now, chief, I don’t kiss and tell.”

  “You mean fuck and tell.” Jesse sighed. “She got any friends?”

  “A few, as a matter of fact,” Logan said. He thought back to Saturday night, to Suzanne. He would put her close to forty, which would be a good age for the chief.

  “Really?” Jesse perked up. “When can I meet her?”

  “Give me a few weeks,” Logan said. “I’m still trying to secure Evie. I’m not convinced she’s going to play nicely, so to speak. She’s a little…undecided.”

  “From what you told me Sunday, it is going fast,” Jesse said. “I wish I’d known she was a sub. Of course, she’s a little young for me.”

  “I didn’t know, either.” Logan had called Jesse Sunday to relate the story of Saturday night’s party. By the time it was over, the two of them were laughing pretty hard.

  “While we’re on the subject of subs,” Logan said. “Do you know anyone, locally, who builds bondage furniture?”

  “Tucker Mattson out near the river does,” Jesse said. “He did a few things for me and Misty. Good work and it lasted. Plus, he builds to order. I had a few…special items in mind for our dungeon. We were not disappointed with what he produced.”

  “I’ve always wondered about him,” Logan said. “I didn’t know he did that sort of work.”

  “Tell him I sent you,” Jesse said as his phone rang. “And probe your woman about info on the mayor’s house. See if she knows anything. Of course, that would be after you probe her in other ways.”

  They were both laughing as Logan exited the office. He went back to his desk, and the list he was making. While he intended to take Inky’s suggestions, he had certain items that he knew she wouldn’t consider. Hopefully, Tucker Mattson could get him what he wanted.

  The first thing they would need was a bed, and he wanted one like he’d seen at a party recently, with a stockade built into the footboard, so a sub could be locked into place while she was standing at the end or kneeling on the mattress.

  He also wanted a vise he’d seen that he could use to bind her breasts. He’d thought about making one of his own, but unfortunately, Logan was all thumbs when it came to any sort of carpentry. He always hired his work out.

  Logan glanced around the room. It was empty, except for the dispatcher and receptionist, who were engaged in conversation. He looked up Tucker Mattson in the phone book. The man answered on the third ring, which made Logan wonder about him even more. What was he doing home in the middle of the day? Did he make enough off his unique furniture that he could work from home?

  After he’d introduced himself to Tucker and said Jesse had recommended him, the builder listened while Logan described what he wanted. It was pronounced doable, and Logan made an appointment to visit on Saturday, so Tucker could take Evie’s measurements.

  Logan asked him to also take a neck measurement. He had a friend in Denver who made custom collars for subs, and he wanted a few for his Inky, but he didn’t want her to know about it. He wanted them to be a gift, or should he say gifts. December would be a month of giving, leading right up to the New Year.

  It was quick, but Logan knew from the minute Evelyn had pushed him into that bathroom that he had to have her, and he didn’t intend to let go. If he gave her time to think about it, she would come up with reasons why they shouldn’t be together. It was best to take things fast.

  He glanced at his watch. It was time for his shift to end. He could head home, take a shower, and have time to browse some Web sites to order things for the dungeon.

  Then tonight…dinner, a movie, and Inky. This time, he would make her strip, and he would make her come…hard.

  * * * *

  If Logan laughed at her discomfort one more time, she was going to bop him upside the head. She didn’t care if he was the Dom and she was the sub. He shouldn’t be taking so much pleasure in her anxiety.

  Everywhere they’d gone tonight, people had stared and done everything but point. They’d talked behind their hands, and she was sure the topic of conversation was the two of them, both at the restaurant and now at the theater.

  “Did you get Sparky the key?” he asked her after they were seated. She juggled the huge tub of popcorn he’d bought, even after she argued the fact that they’d just had dinner.

  “Yes,” she reported. “He said they had the bigger tub I wanted in stock.”

  “The bigger one will fit the two of us quite nicely,” he said before he reached into the bucket on her lap and grabbed a handful of corn. After he swallowed, he said, “I want a big shower too.”

  “Got a water fetish, Logan?” She took a great delight in seeing his face darken, because she knew he wasn’t feeling the discomfort that she’d felt today. Too many people had looked at her like they knew she’d had sex last night, and it had made her distinctly uncomfortable. At least she could piss him off a little right now.

  Despite the fact she wasn’t hungry, she reached into the bucket for a handful of popcorn. She tossed a few in her
mouth and started to chew. After she’d swallowed she said, “Well, do you? I am a reporter, by trade, so I ask a lot of questions. But of course you know that.” She batted her eyes at him. “So, water fetish?”

  “You’re going to think fetish,” he muttered before he stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth. He took a swig of soda and swallowed before he leaned over and spoke into her ear. “You got two minutes to go into the bathroom, take off your panties, and bring them back to me.”

  “What?” She had another handful of popcorn halfway to her mouth. Part of it dropped to her lap.

  “You just lost five seconds.”

  Evelyn jumped up from her chair. Logan grabbed the tub before it fell to the ground. “Five more seconds,” he said.

  There was nobody sitting next to her, but there were people about six seats away. She pushed past them, wondering why she’d ever opened her mouth to tease him, and wishing he hadn’t wanted to sit in the center of the aisle. Obviously, if she pushed him too hard, this is what would happen—she’d be given a task that was almost impossible to complete.

  It was a miracle that she didn’t run into anyone on the way there, and that all three of the stalls were empty. Even more miraculous was the fact that she’d worn a dress tonight. It was easy to slip off her panties, but as she crumpled them into a ball in her hand, she realized she didn’t have a pocket to put them in.

  Hopefully, her luck would continue, and she would make it back to her seat without running into someone who wanted to talk about newspaper business, or tell her what their children or grandchildren had done and ask if their picture could be put in the newspaper. Pictures of kids were the staple of a small-town newspaper, and she always said yes. But now was not the time to discuss them.

  She pushed through the door, wondering how much time she had left. As she headed back to the auditorium, her luck ran out.

  “Evie,” the mayor said as she tried to sidestep the line at the concession stand. He had a soda in one hand and a carton of popcorn in the other.

  “Evelyn, so good to see you,” his wife, Madeline, said. She put her arm around Evelyn’s shoulder and pulled her into a hug. When she released her, Madeline looked around the room. “Where’s Logan? I hear the two of you are sparking, as my grandmother would call it.”

  Evelyn flushed. “We’re just friends,” she said.

  “Oh, that’s how Charlie and I started out.” Madeline took her husband’s arm. “And look at us now, thirty-three years later.”

  I bet Charlie didn’t want to build a dungeon in your basement, she wanted to say. Or maybe he did. You never knew about these things. As Madeline started to talk about how she and Charlie met, Evelyn became increasingly aware that she had her underwear in her hands, and if someone bumped into her, and she lost her grip, there was every chance they would drop onto the floor for half the town to see.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard what happened to our house,” Madeline said, her voice low as if she were trying to make sure no one else heard. Evelyn wanted to tell her that the whole town knew already.

  “It’s terrible,” Evelyn said, forgetting about the silky drawers in her hand, and the fact that she’d blown her two-minute time limit. Maybe Madeline would give her something they could use in Friday’s story. “Do they have any leads?”

  “Not that I know of,” Madeline replied. “Maybe you could ask Logan and then call me with information. They aren’t really telling us anything.”

  “Logan won’t tell me anything either,” she told the woman. It was time to tell a little white lie, to keep people from thinking she and Logan were discussing police business. “We made a pact not to talk shop during our…” How was she supposed to describe their time together?

  “Dates,” Madeline supplied, smiling sweetly.

  “Yeah, dates.” Or scenes would work too, Evelyn thought, at least when they were alone. Although they hadn’t had one yet, and they hadn’t really talked about them either. Maybe it was something she needed to bring up.

  She needed to ask him about the rules. But were they that far yet? All she’d done was give him a blowjob. But then she remembered the panties in her hand, and how she’d jumped to do his bidding. Plus he was ordering sex toys for her basement, so yeah she could say that they were that far.

  “Enjoy the show,” she said as a way of saying good-bye.

  “You too.” Madeline patted her arm, the one with the hand that clutched the underwear. Evelyn clasped them tighter. “Say hi to Logan for us.”

  “I will.” She waved with her free hand, then made her way back to her seat. She sat down just as the lights started to dim. She tossed her undies onto Logan’s lap.

  “Madeline and Charlie say hi.”

  He burst into laughter, and she wanted to scream at him that it wasn’t funny. He laughed so hard that he choked on some of the popcorn that was in his mouth.

  After he’d taken several drinks, he leaned toward her. “I’m really sorry I missed that. I bet you were as red as a strawberry. You busted your time limit.”

  “You knew I’d run into someone, and there was no way I’d make it.”

  “I did.” He put his hand on her thigh and slowly started to inch her skirt up.

  “Logan,” she whispered as she batted at his hand. “We’re in public.”

  “Don’t fight me,” he warned. His hand was still now. “Just spread your legs a little and don’t move.”

  “That’s not going to be easy.”

  “Nope.” He was inching the skirt up again. “Especially when you come.”

  “Please don’t do this,” she said, glancing around. No one was paying them any attention, but she knew there was no way she would be able to sit still once his hand found its mark, and she was right. She wiggled in her seat and again asked him to stop as his finger dipped inside her slit.

  “What if I leave a stain on the seat, or worse yet my skirt. Please, don’t do this.”

  “Stand up,” he told her. She did as he asked, keeping bent over so she didn’t distract the people behind them. But as she watched him place his denim jacket on her seat, she looked behind and saw there was no one there. There were only about three rows behind them, and the crowd had seated themselves forward. It was light for a Tuesday night, and she was happy for that.

  “Sit back down.” She felt a little better knowing there wasn’t anyone behind them. After she’d sat back down she looked up. She’d done a story one time about theaters. One of the things she’d learned was how the person working the projection booth could look down and see what was happening in the seats.

  The worker, a man in his sixties, had told her about watching the audience from time to time, and how he would see people necking. Sometimes they got carried away, and he would radio down for an usher to put a stop to things. How would that usher feel, she wondered, if he were dispatched to their row, only to find the police lieutenant with his hand between the newspaper editor’s outstretched thighs?

  “Logan,” she whispered. “We’re in—”

  “Not one more word,” he responded. “Just sit there.”

  He’d found her pussy, his fingers sliding into her folds easily, since she was as wet as a river. At this rate, his jacket would be soaked in seconds flat. It was only fair to warn him.

  “Logan,” she said urgently.

  His finger passed up and down her inner folds. “You can’t follow directions, can you? I said, not one more word. Now be quiet, or face the consequences.”

  He continued to stroke her, and Evelyn’s orgasm started to build. It started slowly, working its way to the tight bundle of nerves that Logan would circle with his finger, but not actually touch.

  She was almost there, and she wanted to beg him to pinch her and damn the consequences if she made noise, and people figured out what they were doing.

  But then he stopped, so abruptly that she gasped. In front of them, someone murmured, “Shush,” and Evelyn clamped her mouth shut until the danger had passed. She was com
ing back down, and she was thoroughly unsatisfied. What she should be is happy, because now they wouldn’t be discovered with their pants down…or off, period.

  She centered her gaze on the chair in front of her as she fought to keep hold of herself. When she was sure she was in the driver’s seat again, she looked back at the screen. She hadn’t watched enough of the film to know what was happening, and she was pretty sure Logan didn’t know either. But he acted as if it were the best movie he’d ever seen—for about fifteen minutes.

  That was when he turned in his seat and put his hand between her legs again.

  Please, please let him get me off this time. I swear I’ll be quiet and good. I want to come.

  But he didn’t. He stroked her just like he had the last time, his touch light enough to bring her just to the edge. Once again she was almost there when he pulled his hand away, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

  Evelyn was proud that she didn’t cry out, didn’t beg for more. When he patted her leg and said, “Good girl,” she wanted to yell at him not to patronize her. She might be a sub, but she wasn’t a dog to be rewarded if she did something right. It reminded her of Carl, of his words at the end of their relationship.

  “You belong to me, and you have no rights. I’ll let you know when you do good or bad. That’s what you live for, nothing else.”

  Anger shot through her, and she pushed Logan’s hand away. She lowered her skirt and crossed her legs.

  He didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. Then he turned to look at her. In the darkness she couldn’t quite make out his expression, but she could tell from his posture that he wasn’t angry, just curious.

  He studied her for a few moments, but Evelyn kept her gaze on the screen. He settled back in his seat, and they watched the movie. When it was over, they ran the gauntlet that came from doing something in a small town. It was never an in-and-out situation. People went out to be seen and to gossip. The audience gathered in the lobby to discuss the film and to talk about ongoing events.

  Everyone they ran into asked about the break-in at the mayor’s house, and Logan assured them it was a one-time thing. He stressed that no one had been injured. For certain, there had been a great deal of property damage, but even the mayor’s pets had been left alone.