Ghost Train

by L. M. Somerton

  “But what? It was dark in there. I fell over. I only saw him for a split second.”

  “It doesn’t matter. If he thinks you know something, that’s enough.”

  “But surely this will be all over the press and the gang will move their operations somewhere else,” Zach said.

  Clem shook his head. “I’m afraid we don’t want that to happen. There will be no coverage of what happened last night. The body in the ghost train will be passed off as an unfortunate homeless man seeking shelter who died of natural causes. We want our underworld friends to carry on using the amusement park until we’re in a position to identify the people at the top of the food chain.”

  “Dad said the man who attacked Garth last night got away,” Zach said.

  “That’s right.” Clem scowled. “We were so fucking close. Closer than we’ve ever been before. Harlequin could identify the gang’s leaders. He is also responsible for several murders in this country and abroad.”

  “So what happens now?” Stevie asked. “Do we go back to work and pretend nothing’s happened?”

  “That’s exactly what you’re going to do.” Clem scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m not happy about it, but the three of you will be able to help the investigation by keeping your eyes and ears open. You know what’s normal for the amusement park. It will be easier for you to spot something that’s not quite right.”

  “Out of the corner of your eye,” whispered Garth. “That thing at the edge of your vision, which sparks alarm bells.”

  “Exactly.”

  “It’s going to be an interesting summer,” Zach said.

  “And now, you three need to get to work, don’t you?” Clem moved toward them. “Garth won’t be in today. He needs some rest.”

  “Hmm, rest. Riiight.” Stevie giggled as he hopped off his stool.

  Garth rolled his eyes. “Get out of here. I’m fine, just need to snooze a bit. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  His friends trooped toward the door. “Breakfast at Mo’s in the morning before we start work,” Zach announced. “No excuses, no exceptions.”

  Garth nodded. “We’ll be there.” He said we, confident in the knowledge that Clem was unlikely to let him go anywhere alone any time soon. He said his final goodbyes and returned to the kitchen.

  “You have a good bunch of friends,” Clem observed.

  “I just hope they don’t get dragged into this too far,” Garth said. “Last night was a bit too real and far too close for comfort.”

  “Which is why I think I should tuck you up in bed and let you rest.”

  “Can we… Can we just watch a movie or something? If I go to bed now, I’ll sleep and then I won’t be able to rest tonight. Or do you have to work?”

  “My job today is to be here with you. I think a movie and some sofa time will do us both good.”

  Garth gave Clem a coy look through his lashes. “Is that an order, Sir?”

  Clem’s eyes gleamed. “I think it is.”

  Chapter Six

  “Take your clothes off, Garth.”

  Garth’s face heated and he wondered if he would ever get used to stripping off in front of Clem. It didn’t take long to wriggle out of the jogging bottoms, T-shirt and underwear he was wearing. He stacked them in a messy pile on one of the kitchen stools. He kept on the leather bracelet around his wrist. Clem stood and watched every move.

  “Good. Now stand with your legs apart and hands behind your back. Normally I’d get you to lace your fingers behind your neck, but not with that wound on your arm and your shoulder still sore.”

  Garth stood as still as he could manage while Clem walked around him, touching each bruise and scrape with the tip of a finger.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t take better care of you.”

  “It was hardly your fault, Sir.”

  “Using you as bait was foolhardy. I should have refused to go along with it.”

  “But it wasn’t your decision.” Garth nibbled on his lower lip. “That’s part of the problem, isn’t it? You weren’t in control.”

  “Perhaps.” Clem cupped Garth’s arse in a warm hand. “My marks have all faded.”

  “Not quite.” Garth wiggled one bare foot. “Those ankle chains made their presence felt. As for the rest, you’ll just have to make new ones.”

  “I may not have been in control at the park yesterday, but try to remember that I am now.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Garth ducked his head, smiling.

  “Once you’re healed, I think I need to schedule a daily spanking. You need frequent reminders of who’s in charge.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Garth’s cock bobbed to attention.

  “Go into the lounge and find us something to watch. I’ll be along in a moment.”

  Garth padded into the next room. Clem had a large collection of DVDs on a bookcase, so there were plenty of options to choose from. Clem’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and Garth wondered what he might be going to fetch—probably something from the ottoman at the foot of the bed. Garth took a deep breath and tried to focus on the film titles. There were a few comedies and one or two science fiction titles, but the vast majority were thrillers or adventure movies. Garth picked out one of the earlier Fast and Furious films, partly because both Vin Diesel and Paul Walker were easy on the eyes, but also because he’d seen it so many times he wouldn’t need to concentrate too hard to keep up with the plot. He extracted the disc from its case then knelt on the floor to insert it into the player.

  “Very nice.”

  Garth swiveled around to find Clem standing in the doorway, a smug grin on his face.

  “You look good on your knees.”

  Garth began to rise.

  “No. Stay as you are. Hands and knees, facing the TV.”

  Getting into position, Garth kept most of his weight on his good arm. He locked his elbows and took a few deep breaths. Something cold and hard touched his hole and he jerked away.

  “Keep still.”

  The pressure returned. The object slipped past Garth’s guardian muscle with relative ease. It was slicked with lube so there was little resistance. Garth sucked in his breath as the invader filled his channel. It wasn’t as big as Clem’s cock, but big enough. Clem jiggled the toy until it was fully seated.

  “Good. Let’s get settled on the sofa.”

  Walking a little awkwardly, Garth approached the couch. Clem had taken up a corner position facing the television. He patted the space between his legs. The couch was deep enough for both of them to sit comfortably with Garth’s back pressed against Clem’s chest, his arse fitting in the V between Clem’s thighs. When he sat, the toy inside him moved and he let out a small gasp. Clem put one arm around Garth’s chest, holding him in place. With his other hand, he grasped Garth’s cock in a firm grip.

  “You can be in charge of the remote,” Clem said. “It seems my hands are busy.” He began to jack Garth’s dick.

  It took Garth a few tries to turn on the television and get the film started. Even the simplest tasks became Mensa-level trials with Clem tormenting him with his expert fingers. There was another small remote on the arm of the couch. It just had three buttons and Clem let go of Garth just long enough to press one of them.

  “Oh my God!” Garth’s butt rose an inch or two from Clem’s lap before Clem pulled him back into position. The toy inside Garth’s channel vibrated, sending shockwaves through his body. It was almost impossible to keep still.

  “Oh, good choice. I love these films.” Clem said nothing about the vibrator. As the opening credits rolled up the screen, he rubbed a thumb over the leaking tip of Garth’s aching cock. Garth couldn’t see Clem’s face, but Garth knew he was smirking. He could hear it in his voice.

  “Spread your legs wider. Put them over my thighs.”

  The new position put additional pressure on Garth’s backside, pushing the toy deeper. Clem continued to jack him, taking him to the edge of release before he eased off for a while. Garth panted, a sheen of perspir
ation forming on his body.

  “You see, a D/s relationship doesn’t have to be all about whips and chains,” Clem said as if having a conversation about the weather. “Though I have to admit I do enjoy that aspect of the lifestyle. This is about you giving me control over your body. Whether you get to come is my decision. Maybe later, you can sit on my dick instead of the vibrator. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

  Garth moaned his frustration. “Please let me come, Sir. I’ll do anything.”

  Clem gave Garth’s balls a squeeze. “I don’t think so. Ask me again at the end of the film.”

  “But this is torture.” Garth wriggled in place, but Clem held him down.

  “That’s the general idea.” Clem chuckled. “We still have a lot to learn about each other, but this is one way of testing your limits. I know you like to be forced, Garth, and I will happily make you do as I say until you scream or say your safe word.”

  He tapped Garth’s shaft in a slow rhythm. “I want you wearing my collar. I want you plugged, gagged and chained to my bed. I want you to be mine, but you’ll go into this with your eyes open, knowing who I am and what I demand. You’re a beautiful submissive, Garth, but you have a mind of your own and I’ll give you the time you need to be sure this is what you want.”

  Garth couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He heard Clem’s words but had no idea how to respond. For now, his entire world revolved around his need to come and the excitement of being denied. He wanted everything Clem offered. He wanted Clem’s leather around his neck but, for now, he was grateful he was alive to be tormented. His brush with death seemed to make all his senses sharper.

  “Please!”

  “Of course.” Clem pressed the second button on the remote and the toy in Garth’s arse vibrated harder.

  “No!” Garth wailed.

  “Is that not what you wanted?” Clem asked, all innocent surprise. “You need to be clear what you’re asking for, boy.”

  “Not your boy.” Even as he spoke the words, Garth knew they were a lie. He had no idea how studying and spending time with his friends would work around a life with Clem, but he did know Clem would help him work it all out.

  “You’re thinking far too hard. Time for setting number three,” Clem said with undisguised joy.

  The orgasm was unstoppable. Garth screamed and bucked in Clem’s hold, secure in the knowledge that punishment was inevitable, but that it would bring as much pleasure as pain.

  Want to see more from this author? Here’s a taster for you to enjoy!

  The Retreat: Serving Him

  L.M. Somerton

  Excerpt

  “Who’d have thought there would be so many applicants for a role where the job description includes nudity and a willingness to get your arse whipped?” Carey Hoffman leafed through the pile of paperwork in front of him. “This is a lot harder than recruiting for club servers.”

  “Relax, Sir. It’s important we find the right people. The more applicants we get, the better chance we have of finding someone perfect.” Alistair Easton, Carey’s submissive, kneaded his Master’s shoulders. “Our first paying client deserves the best.”

  “That’s so good.” The tension melted from Carey’s shoulders as Alistair loosened knotted muscles. “Maybe we should go upstairs for an hour so that you can relieve other parts of my anatomy.”

  Alistair giggled. “Not a good idea if you want to invite people in for interviews this week. We have work to do.”

  Scowling, Carey turned to his friend and bar manager Harry Croft. “What’s a Dom to do, Harry, when his sub takes charge?”

  “Generally,” Harry replied, “I find it’s best to do what I’m told.” He ruffled his sub’s hair. Kai Smithson was seated on the floor between Harry’s legs. “You can always spank him later, but for now, Alistair is right. We have to get through all these applications this evening. We only have one post left to fill, don’t we?”

  Alistair knelt at Carey’s side, hands folded in his lap, his serenity in complete contrast to the noise and activity going on all around them. The Underground was always busy, but Friday nights tended to be hectic. Carey had sequestered a quiet corner for their discussion. A low table held paperwork and drinks, and cushions softened the floor for Alistair’s knees and Kai’s backside. Carey still found it hard to concentrate. He blamed Alistair for looking so tempting in leather trousers and a sheer silk shirt. He imagined removing the shirt, exposing Alistair’s smooth skin inch by inch, then watching his lover wriggle out of the trousers…

  “Carey?” Harry brought him out of his daydream.

  “Sorry, I got a bit distracted. Where were we?”

  “The last vacancy—if you can keep your mind on recruitment and off whatever it is you’re planning to do to Alistair?” He shared a conspiratorial grin.

  “Oh, yes. Right. Well, I’m thankful Mr. Wilder’s requirements are not too onerous. Tor Halvorsen will act as executive chef. He cooked for Joe and Heath when they had their taster weekend with Olly and Aiden and their reviews of his cooking were first rate. Olly said, and I’m quoting here, that Tor’s double chocolate brownies were better than an orgasm after two days in chastity.”

  Alistair and Kai both burst out laughing.

  Harry rolled his eyes. “Olly would be proud. He can create chaos even when he’s hundreds of miles away. That’s two extra strokes for you tonight, young man.” He gave Kai’s hair a gentle tug. Kai sucked on his lower lip but his eyes sparkled and he rubbed his cheek against Harry’s thigh.

  “Tor has recruited two kitchen assistants, both, I might add, stolen from here at The Underground,” Carey said. “As Mr. Wilder is traveling alone, Tor says that will be more than adequate to cover his stay and allow for days off for each of them. Tor intends to work through and take some time off in between clients. He’ll also take on training Benjy and Frank. Going forward, I think we should consider rotating the junior kitchen staff through The Retreat. Then they’ll all get experience of different kinds of catering.”

  “That’s a great idea. At least they won’t be shocked by anything they see at The Retreat.” Harry grinned. “Right. Goran has sorted all the drink supplies, so Mr. Wilder won’t starve or go thirsty.” Goran was Harry’s very capable deputy bar manager. “He can always take a quick trip down there if Tor needs him for anything. It’s always possible that the client will want to throw a party while he’s staying. Goran’s already offered to run the bar for events like that.”

  Carey nodded. “Excellent. Then we have Luke Redding as general manager. He’s ex-forces, like Tor.”

  “The Retreat is going to be run like a military campaign,” Harry said. “Tell me about Luke. I know he’s a member here but not much else.”

  “He’s a well-respected Dom. Kept up his membership even when he was overseas on active duty.”

  “Well, you do give service personnel an excellent discount.”

  “I do, and they deserve it. Whereas Tor was in the army, Luke is ex-Navy. Served fifteen years then took an honorable discharge to care for his father who died last year. Mother passed when he was a child so his dad brought him up. He told me at the interview that he gave himself to his career, then to his father, now it’s his time. He was very open. He doesn’t have to work for the money but needs a purpose. He’s a very experienced manager and won’t take shit from anyone. He’ll be perfect for mentoring the young men that will be working at The Retreat, as well as the contractors. Management of the house and garden staff as well as all the arrangements related to housekeeping and maintenance will sit with him, and if our guests want any training in a particular technique, Luke can either handle it himself or bring someone in from the club if he doesn’t feel qualified. He knows the area well too—he was based at Portsmouth for many years and the New Forest was a favorite daytrip destination.”

  “I hope I’ll get to meet him one day,” Harry said. “I’m surprised I’ve never come across him here.”

  “I’m sure you will. I inten
d to have post-stay debriefings with The Retreat’s management team here at the club.”

  “Good idea. So, when you Skyped with Mr. Wilder…”

  “Lorcan. He prefers to be called Lorcan.”

  “When you Skyped with Lorcan, did he have any special requirements for other staff?”

  “I think he’s going to be a low maintenance client—he was reserved, but friendly. The stay is a personal reward for selling his business. From what I could make out, he’s done little else but work for many years. He’s had some training as a Dominant and has excellent references from a couple of clubs I know in the U.S. He wants to see whether immersion in the lifestyle is what he wants because, as he said, he thinks it is but he’s never had time to prove it to himself.”

  “Sounds like he has his head in the right place.”

  Nodding, Carey flicked through a few applications. “I’ve done a full background check. There was an incident in his late teens, which I won’t go into here because it shouldn’t cause any issues. It marks him as a survivor. He plays hard when he has the time but that isn’t often. He admits to a preference for blonds. Smaller than him and not too muscled.”

  “How tall is he?” Harry asked.

  “Six feet one.”

  “That rules out three of these—all within an inch of that height. There are also several brunets and one redhead in here so I’ll put them aside. That still leaves six possibles.”

  “Whoever we choose has to be prepared to be very flexible.” At Harry’s feet, Kai giggled. “Not that kind of flexible, brat,” Carey chided. “Lorcan wants one man to be his personal assistant, valet and submissive. He doesn’t want a lot of people around the place because his break is about getting some breathing space, so this man will be at his beck and call twenty-four seven. Experience isn’t needed. I think Lorcan wants someone he can mold to his requirements, so we’re looking for a relative innocent—but one who knows what he’s getting into.”