Completely Mine: Bliss Series, Book Four

by Hall, Deanndra

  “That’s true. But could you send out an email to the membership, maybe remind them of the confidentiality that protects everyone?” she asks.

  “I can and I will. Consider it done.”

  If it means she’s safer, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything to keep her safe, happy, healthy, and near me. That includes dying if need be.

  And I hope it doesn’t come to that.

  Chapter Six

  “Ready?”

  She shoulders the bag she’s carrying and nods, then takes my outstretched hand. “Ready.”

  We walk straight into the building, through the short hallway from the office to the common room, and all the way to the front. I hit the switches and turn on all the lights, and then we both head to the locker rooms. As soon as I come out in my leathers, boots, and black tee, I turn on the sound system and start prepping the bar for use. There’s movement a distance away and I look up. All I can do is give a long, low whistle.

  She’s got on the most beautiful satin corset I’ve ever seen, dark gray against her peachy skin. There are lace panels in it, and I can see the definition of her ribs. Her belly has a little pooch and the top of the matching thong rides barely under it. No stockings, just heels, something that looks like brushed stainless, and their one-inch platforms give their owner legs that seem to go on forever. On one arm she’s wearing a silver bracelet that looks like a snake crawling around her forearm, and on the other is a wide bangle with a heart cut out of it. When she reaches the bar, she holds both palms up and twirls. “Well, whaddya think?” she asks when she stops.

  “I think you’re beautiful and I’m the luckiest guy in this club,” I tell her.

  “Right now, you’re the only guy in this club,” she points out.

  “Yes, but that’ll also be true when it’s full of people.” I point to a stool and she takes a seat. “Rules.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “While we’re here, you will call me sir or master. You will be appropriately subdued, and you will avoid meeting the eyes of any other Dominants, except for Clint, Steffen, and Dave, as they’re personal friends.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’d very much like it if you’d become one of the submissives the others can go to for advice and encouragement.”

  “I’d like that too, sir.”

  “Good. You’ll share that little position with Melina. They already respect and trust her. Hang with her and they’ll understand that they can trust you too.”

  “Yes, sir. Makes sense.”

  “What you’re wearing is perfectly fine, but nothing more revealing. I do not want the other Dominants to be able to see your nipples or slit unless we’re scening. So the outfit you wore last night is verboten, got it?”

  She gives me a little salute with two fingers. “Got it, sir.”

  “Also, if you will be quick to pick up implements that are used in performance areas and clean them, that would be very helpful. Right now we’ve got enough that we’re waiting until the end of the night, but then we’re stuck here cleaning stuff for hours. If it was cleaned a little at a time, that would help. There’s a separate bathroom in the back of my office. You’re welcome to use it, and there’s a huge counter back there, as well as a big box of latex gloves, so it’s a great place to clean things.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, and no alcohol for you while you’re here.”

  “But, sir―”

  “No alcohol for me either.”

  She nods. “Okay, then. That’s fine, sir.”

  “Good. I can’t think of anything else, except please keep an eye on the clock. When it hits midnight, make sure I know that. Sometimes if I’m really busy I don’t see it. I can’t be serving liquor after that time. If anybody got into an alcohol-fueled accident after midnight and the cops found out they’d just come from here, I’d be in big trouble.”

  “Yes, sir. Don’t want that.”

  “Nope.” The doors open and a couple of Dominants walk in. “Okay. Members are starting to come in. Be friendly, but do not let them touch you.”

  “Oh, no, sir. I’m off-limits.”

  “Yes,” I say and lean across the bar toward her. “You are.”

  She leans in and meets me, her lips pressed to mine. When she pulls back, she’s all smiles. “I love you, sir.”

  “I love you too, little subbie. Now go get to know some folks, but remember the rules.”

  “Yes, sir!” I watch as she steps up to a couple of submissives and introduces herself, and for the first time, I think this is going to work out great.

  “Dad get you lined out last night?” I hear a voice ask and turn to find Clint standing there, grinning.

  “Of course. He’s good at that. Didn’t hear you come in. Doing okay?”

  “I should be asking you that,” he says and taps the bar top. In seconds, I’ve poured him a gin and tonic and he’s taken a seat. “You seem better today than last night.”

  “Oh, much better. We got everything straightened out.”

  “Good! That’s good news. I know Trish and I sure went through some shit at first, courtesy of me, of course,” he says, then takes a sip.

  “Yeah, well, we all learn, don’t we?”

  “We sure do.”

  “But she’s going to need to talk to all of you together at some point. Is that doable?”

  Clint looks up at me from under his brows. “Of course. Good as done. Just let us know when and where and we’ll all be there.”

  “You speaking for Steffen?”

  “If he doesn’t like it, I’ll take him out in the parking lot and whip his ass,” Clint play-growls.

  “I’ll sell tickets.”

  He chuckles. “You’ll make a fortune.”

  I watch as Trish comes out of the dressing room wearing an exquisite quarter-cup corset and matching thong. And no shoes. Clint’s not real tall, but without heels, she’s extremely short. She looks great, especially considering her age, and she’s got two of the most beautiful nipples I’ve ever seen, perfectly round, beautiful color, and identical. When she steps closer, I take a good, long look. Yep―he’s been working on them. They’re hard as rocks with better than half an inch protruding. I’d heard he makes her wear bindings sometimes when they go out. He likes the look of them poking out underneath clothes, and I have to believe he likes other guys looking at them too.

  “Well, look at that! Aren’t you beautiful?” a voice says and I know it to be Steffen’s.

  “Eyes on your own sub, Cothran,” Clint says, but he’s playing and I know it. Sheila has joined Trish and they’re headed to the locker room.

  “They are. And so are yours,” Steffen says, goading Clint.

  “Nope. Looking at mine.”

  “I am too.”

  “Shit, Steffen, do you have to try to rile me up every time you see me?” Clint asks, and I’m struggling to keep from busting out laughing.

  “Yes. It’s part of my job,” he mouths intentionally, to which Clint flips him off. “Well, okay, if you insist, bend over.”

  “You wish.”

  “You two are nuts,” I tell them as I grab a glass. “Steffen, what’ll it be?”

  “Sure won’t be what he’s having. Ick. Martini. Extra dry.”

  “Pussy,” Clint murmurs.

  “Yes. I like it very much,” Steffen replies. “Asshole.”

  I just roll my eyes. “How the hell has Dave stood the two of you all these years?”

  “He loves us,” Clint says in his girliest voice, a big, cheesy grin on his face.

  “Yes. He does,” Steffen adds in the same voice.

  “Aww, god.” I just shake my head and reach for another glass in anticipation of someone else wanting a drink.

  When Sheila comes out, I almost faint. She’s bare. I mean, totally and completely bare. Not a stitch of clothing, and not even a little strip of fur to camouflage her slit. Not so much as a piece of jewelry. Totally and completely naked. “I take it you guys are sceni
ng tonight?” I ask the two Dominants.

  Steffen nods. “Yep. Together.”

  My eyelids pop open wide. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Just watch. Submissive, let’s go,” Clint orders Trish, and she takes a step behind him and follows him to a performance alcove, Steffen right behind her with Sheila in his wake.

  And that’s when things start to get interesting. Cirilla comes running up to the bar. “Sir! Did you see who’s here?”

  “Yeah, and they said they’re going to scene together,” I tell her and her mouth falls open.

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.” I’m almost laughing. “Can’t wait to see how this goes.”

  “Me neither. Can I, um, watch?” she asks, her face sheepish.

  “Absolutely. I would prefer that you watch.”

  “Thank you, sir!” she says as she almost skips away.

  The crowd is gathering, just as I knew it would. They’re all curious. Hell, I’m curious. Might as well close the bar. Nobody’s interested in drinking anyway. They all want to watch.

  Bless her heart, Cirilla’s having a hard time seeing, so I grab a wooden crate from over at the side of the room and bring it over, then help her climb up on it. Since we’re all the way in the back, she’s not impeding anyone else’s view, and she can see very well. As we watch, Trish slips off the thong that matches her corset, and Clint directs her to a spot in the middle of the space. Then he grabs a small platform and places it on the floor, helping her up onto it. As soon as she’s settled in place, Steffen points to a spot just behind her and Sheila steps up, then turns her back to Trish’s and presses up against her.

  Oh, this is gonna be good.

  That’s when the guys start the process. There are ripples of whispers throughout the audience as each implement is added. First, they’re belted together around their waists. Each man goes to their sub’s left breast, attaches a clamp to their nipple, and drops the strap attached to it over their shoulder and the shoulder of the other woman. The clamp on the other end of each strap is attached to the right breast of the other woman. As soon as the clamps are in place, we watch as the Doms tighten the clamps until the subs are almost squirming. Then they shorten the straps until those nipples are dragged upward and the weight of their tits pulls downward, stretching their nipples. Ah, delicious agony. I love it.

  When that’s done, they bring out two more sets of clamps with straps and I can’t figure out what they’re going to do with those. In seconds, I find out. I watch as each Dom places a clamp on the left outer lip of their sub’s cunt, then passes the strap around the outside of her hip to the other Dom and they repeat the same thing for the right side. Then they tighten those straps. The bindings are so tight that their clits are completely exposed. Oh, this is good. This is really, really good. For all their silly fussing and arguing, these two work extremely well together, and their submissives trust each other enough to let go and do what they’re asked. I have to wonder―do they swap? Because Trish seems comfortable with Steffen there, and Sheila seems to feel the same way about Clint. It would make sense, at least to me.

  Any wiggle, any twist, any movement at all, and the clamps pull. If Sheila wiggles, it’ll cause Trish pain too. If Trish shifts, it’ll open both her and Sheila’s slits even farther. They can’t win, and that’s the whole idea.

  Clint drops to his knees and sucks Trish’s clit into his lips. The only sound she makes is a faint gasp. Steffen, however, has other ideas, and he takes a small vacuum device and attaches it to Sheila’s clit. As soon as he presses the button, she moans loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. Two very different approaches as we all watch Clint sucking hard, while Steffen grins as he watches the tiny machine do all the work. But they’ll get the same results, and that’s all they want.

  Five minutes go by, during which time we hear each Dominant repeatedly tell their submissive, “No coming. No. Don’t do it.” It’s obvious both submissives are suffering, and that realization comes at the same moment that I discover I’m throbbing. If the top of my leathers were any lower, my cock slit would be peeking out at me and winking. When I glance over at Cirilla, she’s still as a stone, but I get a huge surprise. There’s a river of wetness running down the inside of her thigh, and in that instant, it’s all I can do to keep from reaching over and plunging my fingers into her. God, I want to so badly, but not here and not now.

  When Clint pulls back and looks at Trish’s clit, it’s the size of the end of my thumb. Running my tongue over my lips, I can almost taste it, can almost feel it in my lips. At the same time, Steffen disengages the suction machine and pulls it away, and Sheila’s clit is huge. I’m talking hanging down and engorged. Looks like a tiny little dick. He reaches down and flicks it with his fingertip and she jumps. That action makes Trish squeal as her nipples are pulled even tighter. God, this is good.

  Both Doms nod to each other and reach into their gig bags. That’s when the whole crowd begins to murmur. Vibrators. Big ones. Oh, yeah, there’s gonna be some screaming in the house tonight. I can see that. They click the latex-covered tools of torture on and I know what’s about to happen. Each Dom issues his own order: “No coming until I allow it.”

  They press those vibrators against those engorged clits and I know both submissives see stars. They’re trapped, any movement hurting both them and their friend, and there’s a sweetness to it that most wouldn’t catch. But I do. Their friendship means something to them, and they try not to hurt their friend. At one point I think Sheila is going to wobble and fall over, but Steffen steadies her and keeps going. I can’t hear him, but I can see him mouth, Easy, easy. Easy, sub. Trish is the first to cave when she says, “Oh, please, Sir, please? I need to come. Please?”

  “You’ll hurt your submissive friend. Is that what you want?” Clint asks.

  “No. Oh, please, Sir. Please? Oh, god,” she moans, and everyone can see the effort she’s putting into standing still.

  “How much longer?” Clint peers around and asks Steffen.

  “I dunno. What looks good to you?”

  “Fifteen minutes?”

  That gets a response from Sheila. “Oh, god, Sir, no! Please? Fifteen minutes? No, oh, no. No, no, no,” she says, starting out shrieking but whispering by the time she finishes.

  “Don’t tell me how this is going to go, sub, or I’ll make it twenty,” Steffen growls.

  “Yes, Sir. Twenty minutes, Sir. Whatever you want, Sir.”

  “Oh, god, please, Sir!” Trish cries out. “I’m not sure I can hold out much longer!”

  “You’ll hold out until I tell you to come, do you understand?” Clint snaps.

  She sounds pitiful when she whines out, “Yes, Sir.”

  Wow. They’re working their submissives over, and every guy in the house is stroking his fly. Actually, there are a couple who’ve just freed their cocks and are openly stroking them right there in the crowd. As I watch, a couple more do the same, and then three more. At least four of them have their submissives down on their knees, sucking their dicks, and they’re enjoying every minute of this. Then I turn and look at Cirilla.

  She’s got a tit out of her corset and she’s working that nipple over good with a thumb and forefinger. The other hand is between her legs and she’s stroking herself. “Submissive!” I whisper loudly.

  Her eyes pop open wide. “Yes, sir?”

  “No. You don’t make yourself come. That’s my job. And get that nipple back inside that cup.”

  “Yes, sir,” she says, her face pink with embarrassment.

  “I know this is hard to watch, but trust me, I’ll take care of your needs later,” I tell her, and I watch as her face lights up and her eyes soften. “I love you, subbie,” I whisper as I lean over and kiss her arm.

  “I love you too, sir,” she whispers back. “This is exciting, don’t you think? I mean, watch them. It’s awesome!”

  “Yes. It is. The four of them work well together.”

  Just as those word
s come out of my mouth, I hear Clint say, “Come for me, submissive. Let go.”

  “Submissive, give me your orgasm,” Steffen orders.

  Both women shriek as their orgasms take them and their bodies shake, pulling against each other, the clamps tightening and straps forcing them together. And the Doms aren’t stopping. This is some heavy-duty play, more than I thought they’d do, and it’s as intense as anything I’ve seen in a long time. Their hips are bucking, pulling against those straps and yanking their slits open even more, and I watch as each Dominant slips two fingers into his submissive and pumps. That sends them both straight into another orgasm, more powerful than the first, and their mouths drop open in pain as the clamps stretch their skin impossible distances. More importantly, they’ve both stopped screaming. They’re deep in subspace, so deep that the pain is a relief and the pleasure is automatic.

  And then I get the shock of my life, the one thing I didn’t think I’d see. The Doms start removing clamps and dropping them, and in a move I couldn’t have anticipated, Clint grabs Sheila and Steffen grabs Trish. In seconds, each man has the other’s submissive pinned to the wall, her legs over his hips as he powers into her, thrusting hard, banging her against the wall, grunting with the effort, the submissives’ hands on the Dominants’ shoulders, barely hanging on as each man pounds into the respective submissive and sucks and bites her tortured nipples. It’s crazy. It’s powerful. It’s art in its purest form, sex as it was intended to be, raw and painful and glorious. And I’m so hard that it hurts to breathe. I hear Clint say, “Come for me, submissive. Grip me.”

  Across the area, Steffen orders, “Come around me, submissive, while I fuck you.” Both submissives cry out, their bellies clenching, while the men pour themselves into them, thrusting hard and violently until their essence is spent.

  The room is silent. I think everyone else there is as shocked as I am. In a few seconds, someone starts to clap, and then another and another, until the whole room is applauding. I can’t. If I so much as move a finger, I’m going to come in my leathers. I look up into Cirilla’s face as she stands there on the crate, and she mouths the words, I’m sorry. When I shrug, she points.