Black Light_Valentine Roulette

by Livia Grant

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t one-size-fits-all, because it didn’t come around to cover her ass in the back. Or it was supposed to be an apron?

  She whirled around, craning her neck to see behind her.

  “Mmm,” Master D said appreciatively. “That’s nice. Everyone will see your rosy red ass—I mean, bottom—when I’m through with you.”

  His correction forced a smile from her and their eyes met. His, ice-blue and beautiful, crinkling at the corners. Had they ever crinkled before? Had she seen him smile before tonight? If she had, it hadn’t struck her the way it did in this moment.

  Something fluttered in her chest—the desire to earn that smile again. Well, that was weird. While she always wanted to get things ‘right’ with a dom—especially him—she didn’t ever get personal with it.

  “For the top, I’d love something simple. Maybe that schoolgirl blouse left unbuttoned and tied at the waist so I can play with these pretty little boobies.” He cupped one of her too-small breasts and squeezed.

  No. She was not experiencing a flush of pleasure at hearing him describe her breasts that way. Somehow she no longer felt like a sexy, savvy submissive, but more like an awkward teenager, unsure of her body, her desires, and how to act.

  Damn him—he was doing this on purpose.

  Kitty Girl brought the blouse and helped her slip it on. Jennifer batted her hands away to tie it herself, but Master D smacked her ass—hard. “Naughty, baby girl. Let the nice kitty help you or Daddy will have to spank you.”

  As if a spanking scared her.

  “Over her lap.”

  Okay, that was weird. And awkward. And definitely not something she wanted to try.

  She swallowed and dropped her hands, looking pointedly away, over Kitty Girl’s shoulder. “Sorry, Daddy,” she mumbled.

  The eyes crinkled again. He was enjoying this far too much.

  Kitty Girl finished tying her blouse. “She needs pigtails,” she announced.

  Jennifer barely managed not to show her some hand to hand combat moves she’d perfected in the service.

  “For sure,” Master D agreed.

  Kitty girl scurried behind the counter and produced a brush and elastic bands. She beckoned Jennifer over to a chair and pulled her hair into two high pigtails.

  “Do you want bows?”

  D tilted his head to the side, considering. “Nah, this is good.”

  Kitty Girl stood back and surveyed her with a self-satisfied smile. “Adorable.”

  Not a word she would ever elect to be called of her own accord.

  “Yes,” Master D drawled. “Isn’t she?” His long arm reached out, and he cupped her nape and pulled her out of the chair and flush against his body.

  The bulge of his rock-hard cock pressed against her bare belly, and something in her flared back to life, the awkwardness melting away as heat swirled in her core.

  His mouth descended on hers with another demanding, open-mouthed kiss. They hadn’t kissed before tonight. Not ever. She hadn’t thought it was his style. It certainly wasn’t hers.

  But as his tongue swept into her mouth, and his lips twisted over hers, punishing her, owning her, her knees went weak and moisture soaked her little G-string.

  “Daddy’s going to teach his little girl a long hard lesson tonight,” he growled when he pulled away.

  Her belly flipped.

  Even though, rationally, she still doubted he’d bring her to the place she needed to go, her body reacted to his words, the thrill of fear coursing into her bloodstream. And she fucking loved that he knew how to do this. How to say just the right things to make her go cross-eyed and weak with submission.

  Even as a daddy dom.

  Chapter 3

  Derek turned to the costume attendant and indicated the pile of Jennifer’s clothing and shoes. “Will you put her things in a bag for me to pick up later?”

  “Of course.” The girl beamed a megawatt smile, and Jennifer looked like she wanted to poke her eyes out.

  He hid his grin and tucked both hands under Jennifer’s armpits. “Up, baby girl.”

  Alarm comically flashed across her face. “What?”

  He didn’t suppress his amusement. “You heard me. Daddies carry their Littles.”

  “Oh God,” she moaned but took his lead, jumping to straddle him when he jerked up on her armpits.

  “Oh fuck, yeah,” he growled when the smooth bare skin between her breasts landed in front of his face. He dragged his tongue up the length of her breastbone to the hollow of her throat. “Baby girl, you’re making your daddy so fucking hard for you.”

  A reluctant smile tugged at Jennifer’s lips.

  Out in the middle of the club, a kerfuffle was happening. A sub yelled, “Red!” and stood up. She wore a collar around her neck, and her dom held the leash. Apparently pet play wasn’t her thing.

  He threw Jennifer into the air and shifted so she came down on his right hip, just like a little girl. “Let’s go for a ride, pumpkin.”

  She shrieked when he took off running, zooming through around the edges of the club where he could move without hindrance. Jennifer clung to his neck, giggles erupting from her lips, unable to remain dignified or stoic. Spectators pointed and laughed at his antics.

  He liked making her laugh, his little Jennifer. She was far too serious normally. It wasn’t his style, but the role playing helped them both break out of their norm. And hell, considering he hadn’t been able to get a date out of her in two months, maybe they needed to bust the mold.

  He hadn’t been planning on taking center stage, but he noticed the main stage was empty, and he didn’t require anything more than a chair for the scene he had in mind. He caught Chase’s eye as he jogged near and lifted his chin in the direction of the stage with his eyebrows raised.

  Chase grinned and waved a hand toward the floor, as if to usher them up.

  He held up one finger and eased Jennifer to her feet so they could both catch their breaths. He wanted to get in tune with her before they headed up there. Sending a sub into submission was something similar to hypnosis. There were certain signs he looked for, to know if they were under his spell, ready for anything he asked of them. And it would be easier to send her there in private than it would be on the stage.

  “Do I get to wear something else for our next round?” Jennifer didn’t hide her distaste for the baby girl outfit he’d put her in. And that was why he wouldn’t let her out of it.

  “No, baby girl. You’ll be spending the rest of the evening as my Little.” He touched her lightly on the nose with his forefinger.

  She wrinkled her nose, which made her look exactly like a petulant child.

  “You see,” he said, wrapping an arm around her back and pulling her soft form against his hard one. “You could use a heavy dose of daddy time. I know you don’t want to accept it—and frankly, I can’t believe I’m offering it. This is probably a once-in-a-lifetime chance for you, doll, so you should soak it up while you can.”

  “Right, because it’s so enjoyable.” Sarcasm dripped from her lips.

  He cocked his head and issued a stern warning look, his hand wrapping over her throat in a distinctly un-daddy way. “Careful, baby.”

  He knew he sounded dangerous. He had his cool, manicured dom mode and, to back that up, he had Deadly D. He didn’t usually show that side—except in his line of work, when he really meant business. But some women loved to hear it, and Jennifer was one of them.

  She shivered beneath his palms.

  Without removing the hand from her throat, he stroked his thumb along her jaw. His other hand wandered to cup her ass, which he gripped with enough force on her cheek to make her gasp. “Are you going to be a good girl for Daddy?” He kept the sinister warning tone in place.

  Her eyes dilated, body went soft beneath his hands. He had her submission. “Yes, sir,” she breathed.

  He knew she loved every minute of his threat, even before he moved the hand on her ass around front to cup her
mons under the fluffy skirt, slipping one finger under the gusset of her panties.

  Dripping wet.

  His blood surged, cock stiffened, rising against the zipper of his black jeans.

  He slid his digit back and forth over her glossy slit before penetrating her.

  Her eyes flew open in alarm, and she rose to her tiptoes, following his upward thrust. He used the hand at her throat to hold in her place as he pumped his finger in and out of her.

  She mewled, expression turning pleading and needy.

  He pulled his finger out and slapped her ass. “You want Daddy to fuck that tight little pussy, don’t you?”

  She swallowed and nodded.

  “Do you want him to do it on stage?”

  He watched the turmoil on her face. On one hand, his little sub never backed down, not from a challenge or an order. On the other, she wasn’t the exhibitionist type. If he had to guess, he’d say she only entered the roulette for the month’s free membership. Black Light cost a fucking fortune, and the military didn’t make you rich. That was why he’d retired and gone private contractor. He made three times now what he’d made as a SEAL.

  She shrugged, and answered with her eyes lowered. “Whatever Daddy wants.”

  “Mmm.” He rewarded her surrender by stroking his hands over her body, cupping both cheeks and kneading them. “You’re such a good girl. Always such a good girl for Daddy.”

  With her ass so delectably bare, he insinuated one finger between her cheeks, seeking out her most private hole and rubbing a tight circle over it. At the same time, he brought the opposite hand around front, delving once more into her moist heat. “Do you want Daddy to fuck you here?” He vibrated the finger over her anus.

  Her pussy clenched, muscles tightening around his finger. A scrambled, panicked look scurried across her face. “N-not really...?”

  With a sharp thrust, he buried two fingers up to the knuckle in her pussy, making her fall forward, hands flying to his biceps. “Don’t lie to me, little girl, or I will spank you so hard you’ll remember me every time you sit for a week.”

  Color bloomed up her neck and across her lovely face.

  “I will spank you all night long, until your ass is worn out and you’re limp with surrender. And then I’ll fuck your tight little ass and show you how much you’ll like it.”

  Her pussy spasmed around his fingers again, and she flushed even deeper.

  “Jesus, D,” she whispered.

  He eased his fingers out, giving her a feral smile. “Are you ready for your lesson?”

  Uncertainty flickered over her face, but she drew a breath and nodded. “Yes, sir—I mean, Daddy.”

  His lips stretched into a wolfish grin. It was so fucking cute when she called him that, especially because it wasn’t her style. He kind of loved the intimacy it conveyed.

  “Daddy’s going to spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week. Or at least a day,” he modified, dropping out of character to shoot her a conspiratorial grin.

  The quick, grateful smile she flashed back made his heart double pump.

  “You don’t believe I’m going to be able to break you as a daddy dom, do you?”

  She hesitated. “No, s—Daddy.”

  “You think I can’t make you cry like the little girl you’re playing?” He’d never seen her cry—not in all the times he’d punished her until she was falling down and shaking. Knowing her non-submissive side was as competitive as he was, he said, “I’ll bet you I can.”

  She turned and looked him square in the face. “What will you bet?”

  Bait taken. He had her number. To make it where she’d made it in the Army meant she had a type A personality. She was ambitious, probably a perfectionist, and certainly driven. She went after her release with those qualities—asking for more, needing to be taken far beyond what others could take.

  He stopped and turned her to face him. “A date. Outside of Black Light. You and me.”

  Her challenging smile faded, shutters slammed down over her face.

  “I know you don’t like to get personal, baby. But I think I deserve a chance. One chance to see you outside of this place.”

  She lifted her chin, her mouth firmed. “I don’t date.”

  “Afraid you’ll lose the bet?” he taunted.

  Her nostrils flared. “No.”

  He arched a brow.

  “Fine. I’ll take that bet.”

  She wasn’t agreeing to a date. No, Jennifer was sure she would win. Well, she had no idea how determined a man like him could be. He would make her cry tonight. And he’d have that goddamn date.

  Chase spoke from the stage. “Next up on the main stage is our ageplay couple—known here at Black Light as Master D and Slave to Pain. D and Slave, please come on up.”

  “Good.” He grabbed a chair from the audience and slung his duffel bag over his shoulder before he started walking again, propelling her up to the stage. He led Jennifer to the center, sat down in the chair, and dropped his dom-duffel of toys beside him. “Stand in front of me, legs wide, back to the audience.” He unzipped his bag and fished out a wooden hairbrush and the item he’d bought impulsively from a market on the way. It must have been divine inspiration, because it seemed quite perfect right now—a piece of ginger root.

  “Hold open your skirt in the back, baby girl. Show them that perfect a—bottom.” Using the hunting knife he kept on him, he quickly peeled the ginger and carved a thick finger with a bulbous end.

  She lifted her eyebrows, but obeyed, pulling the edges of the poufy skirt forward to increase the gap in the back, showing her muscular ass, threaded by the tiny G-string.

  He tugged her panties down until they dropped at her ankles. “Daddy needs your bottom bare for this spanking, angel.”

  He knew he’d pushed her limits by the way she’d frozen, jaw tightening. But her back was to the audience—they couldn’t see her twat—only he could. And while she set firm personal limits, he knew she wouldn’t safeword. No—his Jennifer would take just about anything he threw her way within a scene. Delicious experience had taught him that.

  He patted his lap.

  Jennifer started to roll her eyes then quickly dived over his lap to hide it.

  He collected both her pigtails and wrapped them up in his fist to tip her head back. “Don’t think I didn’t see that, little girl,” he growled.

  She actually giggled.

  It was so odd to see his serious sub laugh that he chuckled out loud, too. “Laugh now, babygirl. You won’t be laughing when I’m through with you.”

  “Okay, Daddy,” she mocked, clearly unimpressed.

  “Reach back and hold open your butt cheeks.”

  She obeyed. He hadn’t punished her anally before, even though he was a big fan of plugs and anal sex as a means of showing a sub who is in charge. It just hadn’t seemed right for her—she needed pain and lots of it, not so much the humiliation. But, tonight, she’d be getting the full treatment.

  He picked up the ginger finger and sucked on it to coat it with saliva. No lube for figging—it ruined the effect. He touched the end of the root to her anus and pushed lightly.

  “Open for it.”

  She squeezed instead.

  He kept steady, gentle pressure on the tight ring of muscles. “Exhale, baby.”

  The muscles relaxed as she blew out her breath and he slid the root in. “You earned yourself a figging, baby girl, with all that eye rolling.” He pumped the ginger finger in and out, twirling it to make sure the ginger juice touched all her membranes. “So here’s the deal. I need you to keep this ginger in your little bottom hole for the entire spanking. It must stay in until I take it out, understand?”

  He saw her pelvic floor lift, as if she was squeezing her pussy. Good—it turned her on as much as it did him.

  “Yes, Daddy.” He could tell the word daddy still didn’t come easily to her, and he loved watching her suffer with it.

  Maybe she was out of her depth. Damn,
she’d always prided herself on being able to take anything a dom threw at her. Anything. She would’ve been okay with ball gags and hoods, blood play, breath play, even. But calling Master D Daddy was just…

  What? Weird. Bizarre. Yes, all of those things. But what about it made her so uncomfortable? It was the affection.

  It hurt her. Made her chest ache.

  Fucking hurt her worse than any beating he’d ever given—and he definitely knew how to give it hard. Yes, Master D, with his rippling muscles, quick reflexes, and physical prowess, knew exactly how to hurt her in all the right ways. His whip never wrapped to her hip; he never beat one cheek harder than the other. He ramped up the intensity, delivering pain in measured doses, always taking her a little further than she thought possible. He knew when to pause, when to let her catch her breath, when to whip her relentlessly.

  He normally didn’t say much. She’d considered him the strong, silent type. Tonight, she’d heard more words from him than in the entirety of their other scenes. And hearing sweet words from him instead of cool, tight orders unmoored her.

  She didn’t want affection from him. Didn’t want to laugh, to share in secret conspiratorial glances or giggles. And she sure as hell didn’t want to be babied.

  The ginger hadn’t kicked in yet. She’d never been figged before but had certainly researched it, as she relentlessly studied everything in the BDSM lifestyle. It may take up to thirty minutes to activate and then would create a burning sensation in her anus.

  No problem. She could handle pain, even when it came mixed with a heavy dose of humiliation. She could handle humiliation, too, although she didn’t love it. But hell, she’d made it through basic training. She’d had her fair share of being humbled in front of a crowd.

  Master D spanked her with his hand, warming her ass for the hairbrush. He was considerate like that, even though he knew she wouldn’t complain if he went straight to the hard stuff.

  “A warm-up prevents bruising, little slave,” he’d said once, after she’d acted antsy for him to get on with the show. He’d punished her for her impatience, of course.