by Kitty Thomas
Champagne and hors d'oeuvres are passed around on trays around us. Dayne grabs a champagne flute from a passing tray and hands it to me. This time I sip. There are no tables in the ballroom, just a wide open space with different types of sex dungeon furniture, as well as leather couches scattered about, mostly along walls. There are large leather tables which double as beds—at the very least they're surfaces to fuck on, judging by the presence of people fucking on several of them.
A couple of the walls are covered in padded leather in what appears to be a supple rich brown with restraints bolted into the walls. All the leather is this color, complementing the white and gold.
Hooks along the walls hold various implements like paddles and crops and floggers and whips. A shelf with a small recessed light shining down on it showcases an assortment of canes. There's already an orgy going on around us, and nobody seems to be shocked by any of the fucking and sucking and whipping occurring in this space. I take a deep breath as I take it all in and take another gulp of champagne.
We pass several people, including many couples and threesomes. There are a lot of women in collars, some scantily clad, some nude. Everyone wearing clothing is dressed in black. I'm not sure if this goes on all the time or if this is a special event.
Several people say things like: “It's good to see you, Mr. Montgomery,” “We haven't seen you in months, Mr. Montgomery,” “Is this your new toy, Mr. Montgomery? She's lovely.” Absolutely nobody calls him Dayne. They all know him, but it's like they aren't allowed to be familiar with him—at least not in public.
Near the stage with the string quartet is a second raised platform with a very nice very large leather chair adorned with tasteful gold accents. Dayne leads me up the stairs and my heart rate escalates higher. Griffin and Soren are right behind us. They stand on either side behind the chair, looking even more like bodyguards than they did on the walk down here.
The music stops playing, and a spotlight shines down on us. Everyone in the ballroom stops what they were doing to turn and look at us. I think Dayne is going to say something to the assembled guests—like maybe some sort of welcome speech—but all he does is nod toward the string quartet.
Slow dark strains of cello music fill the otherwise now quiet ballroom. The cello is soon joined by one of the violins. Dayne turns me to face the assembled guests, his large hands wrapped possessively around my shoulders.
He leans next to my ear. “Are you going to be a good girl and do everything you're told?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper.
“Good. Take off the shoes.” He relieves me of my champagne flute, the alcohol starting to give me just enough buzz to bolster my courage. I remove the shoes, grateful for the easy snaps at my ankles.
When I'm finished, he turns me to face him, Griffin, and Soren. He pulls the front part of my dress back to reveal my thong—but only to the guys. My back is to our guests and the rest of the dress still shields me so no one else can see. He slides the panties down over my hips and orders me to step out when they reach the ground. Then he picks the thong up and tosses it out into the crowd.
I'm turned back around in time to see a man snatch it out of the air and put it into his pocket. He smiles, raises his glass, and nods at Dayne. I shiver at this, growing wetter between my legs thinking about my panties in that stranger's pocket, my panties that were already soaked with evidence of my arousal.
Dayne doesn't have to tell me what's about to happen. I know. At least I have some idea. He gently tugs the zipper down until the gown is fully unzipped, then he pushes the straps off my shoulders, and the dress falls to unveil me. I feel like a statue being revealed at an art opening.
I'm not sure how to feel about the fact that I had a spa day and got waxed a couple of days before the wedding. On the one hand I'm well-groomed, but on the other, there's nothing to hide behind. It's a far more intimate level of exposure than if I'd skipped that task.
Soren moves the dress out of our way as Dayne helps me step out of the gathered silk. Then he sits in the chair and points to a spot at his side in front of Soren.
“Kneel,” he says, “Facing that way.” He gestures out toward the assembled onlookers. I'm still wearing the opera gloves.
I take a deep breath but do as he says.
“Spread your legs. Let them see,” he says. He says it loud enough that many of the guests at the party can hear, judging by the anticipatory smirks that grace their faces.
But I comply. His order sends a flutter of excitement into my belly. After I'm positioned the way he wants me, the spell that seemed to fall over the room slowly lifts. Voices begin speaking again in murmured tones that gradually crescendo louder into a din. After another few minutes the sounds of fucking and whipping start to compete with the quartet for dominance and the elegant strings fade into the background.
I feel Soren's hand suddenly move around to grip the front of my throat. He leans close to my ear and whispers, “I need to fuck your mouth. Turn around.”
I look up to Dayne as if I need permission for this, but he's talking to Griffin about something. So I turn around, still on my knees. My hands shake as I unzip Soren and free his huge cock from his pants. I'm still not used to his size. Griffin and Dayne are big, but Soren is... frightening. And I'm not sure the impact will ever truly lessen.
He doesn't let me take him at my own pace, instead, he pushes his hardened cock between my lips and begins to fuck my mouth just as he promised. I start to panic, but when I do he backs off and lets me control the pace so I can lick and suck him the way I know he likes.
Then he speaks. But not to me.
“Colin,” Soren says, “I didn't expect to see you here this week.”
“Your secretary is a bulldog. The only way I could get to you was to fucking fly to Costa Rica and intercept your honeymoon.”
I flinch at the unfamiliar man's voice. I didn't hear him step onto the platform, and my field of vision has been narrowed to Soren's cock for the last several minutes.
“I'm sorry, we've been busy with the wedding,” Soren says. “What was it you needed?”
“I had to find a new CPA because of you, and I had to get ahead of a scandal from rumors which I believe originated with you.”
Soren continues to stroke my hair. “It wouldn't have happened if you'd kept your mouth shut about my private activities. I'm fairly certain that story you told Harold happened here at the resort. I could get you blacklisted for breaking the NDA.”
I freeze at the sound of my father's name. It could be another Harold, but Colin did say CPA and while there are fewer names that sound more like they could belong to an accountant than Harold, I'm pretty sure they are talking about my father.
“Oh fuck you,” Colin says. “You owe me.”
Soren laughs. “Oh really? And what do I owe you?” his grip around the back of my neck tightens as he realizes I'm doing more listening than pleasuring. “That's it,” he coos softly to me when I return my focus to him. “Good girl.”
I feel my entire body blush because this stranger is standing far too close to us and is no doubt leering down at me, no doubt appraising my technique.
“Well,” Colin says, “You could loan me your girl for a night. That might make up for it.”
I tense, and for a moment I'm actually afraid Soren might agree to this. Even though I'm sure Dayne and Griffin would put a stop to it. Even though I'm wearing the gold collar that's supposed to protect me. Even though I know how possessive Soren is.
Soren laughs. “If that little business of yours doesn't work out, you could go into comedy.”
“The little business that sits higher on the Forbes list than yours? Okay, Soren. I'm sure your stockholders would love to know about this arrangement you have. Can you afford the scandal? Can she?”
There's silence for what feels like forever where I assume there's some hostile manly stare down going on. Finally Soren says... “I could get you something. Something soft and sweet, and you can keep he
r forever. With conditions of course.”
“I'm intrigued.”
“Give me a few weeks to arrange it. I'll have my bulldog secretary set up a meeting.”
While I didn't hear Colin come up on the platform, I do hear him leave. My mind is spinning trying to figure out what Soren plans to give this dirtbag to keep him quiet.
When he comes, I'm so distracted I don't swallow. In truth I can't believe he managed to keep a hard-on during that tense discussion, but maybe it was the thrill of his frenemy watching him getting his cock sucked by a woman he wanted to borrow.
Soren puts his fingers under my chin and raises my gaze to his. “Stand up. Now.” His order is harsh, even harsh for him. It calls both Griffin and Dayne's attention when I stand.
“What's going on?” Griffin says. Dayne is standing too, now.
“I'm going to punish her.”
“What the fuck for?”
He raises my face to show Griffin and Dayne the evidence of my crime.
“No. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you, but you're not taking whatever shit you've got going on out on Livia,” Griffin says.
“You were the one who wanted a trade,” Soren says. “This is mine. Do you want to trade back?”
Trade what for what? I have no idea what deal is going on behind-the-scenes with these two, or what they've been bartering that has to do with me. And then I can't take it anymore. I just crumple to the ground and start sobbing, just like the first night in the tub. Then one of them is on the ground with me, holding and rocking me.
I think it must be Dayne or Griffin, but it's Soren's voice in my ear. “I'm sorry. Griffin's right. I can't punish you when I'm angry. I'm not even angry at you. It's that dipshit, Colin.”
He presses a kiss to the top of my head.
Griffin shows up a few minutes later with a warm wet washcloth and cleans me up. The mood, my arousal, everything is ruined. And this is the last night of the trip. I know they wanted to do things with me here at the party. And there's a part of me that wanted to do those things too. I was just getting to the point where I felt like I could trust them to start exploring these fantasies. These are my fantasies. It's not just theirs. I'm not just their puppet being forced along to obey whatever. I get off on this too. I don't like to admit that to myself but I do.
“Come on, let's go back to the house,” Soren says.
I shake my head. “No, we were going to... do things, and it's our last night here.”
“It's not the end of the world,” Dayne says. “We've each got some work we have to get caught up on, but we were planning on coming back in a couple of months. We could stay longer then. There's plenty of time for this.”
I take a long look around. Despite what felt like the hugest drama in the world to me five seconds ago, I realize everyone at the party is too busy with the party. They aren't watching us right now. They've got their own stuff going on. Nobody saw what just happened so there's no reason for me to be embarrassed about it. They didn't see Soren lose his temper, and they didn't see me crying. And they can't see anything now with me shielded by Soren's broad body.
“What was going to happen here tonight?” I ask.
Soren sighs. “We drew straws and Dayne got first sex. I got first anal. And Griffin got first punishment. Griff decided he wanted to be a hero and save you from first anal with me and he knows how much I like punishment. So we traded. I was going to punish you tonight anyway. Not because of anger, but because I wanted to do it.”
I let all that settle in. Half of me thought Dayne was kidding about drawing straws for me. It's at once both juvenile and barbaric. And I am grateful that Griffin made that trade, though I'm not sure a punishment from Soren is much more comforting.
“And I was going to fuck your ass,” Griffin says.
I take in a deep breath. And what? Now we're going to go back to the house because Princess Livia cried? Seriously fuck that. We're doing this.
“Let's do it then,” I say.
“Excuse me?” Soren says. It comes out a half laugh.
“Let's do the stuff. It's our last night. I want to do the stuff.” I turn to Dayne, “But can you make that Colin guy leave, please?” The idea of him watching this after the conversation I overheard feels wrong.
Dayne arches a brow. “You're asking me to ban Colin?”
“Not like forever. Just... until we leave.”
The guys exchange looks. Finally Dayne shrugs. “Sure, why not? It would amuse me to put Colin in the time-out corner for a while.”
Dayne hops off the platform and goes to talk to some guys who look like bouncers. They nod and then go off in search of Colin.
27
Soren
The Punishment
The Present.
What in the fuck is happening right now? So much for thinking Livia couldn't handle my darkness. Though the night's not over yet. I look at her to find she's got this sort of defiant look on her face, and fine. She doesn't want to be spared? I won't spare her.
Before she can catch her breath, I grab her arm and jerk her to her feet. Griffin has showed up again with a black robe to cover her, but I wave him off. No, she's in this. If she's in it, she's in it. There's no sense or point in covering or protecting her modesty now. They've seen everything.
She yelps as I half drag her down the stairs.
“Soren,” Griffin warns, ever the hero.
“What?” I snarl. “You heard her. She wants to do the stuff. So I'm going to do the stuff. You're welcome to come watch. And then you can do your stuff. Deal?”
Dayne doesn't try to interfere at least. This whole honeymoon setup is grating on my nerves. I know I agreed to this. I'm the king at home. He's the king at the resort. Griffin is... second at home? Third at the resort? Fuck I don't know. We've always just shared girls with no drama. We've rarely felt the need to create this hierarchy of possession or keep score. Because with every other girl we knew it was only temporary. And then there would be someone else to amuse us.
So if we didn't like how the power structure played out, we could just reset with the next one. But Livia is the last one. We all know this on a deep level so we have to get it right. And Dayne has enough sense to back the fuck off right now and not try to play his king of the resort and secret underground kink club card.
Though part of it I think is reputation. If he steps in and rescues her too much in public it makes him look weak. Welcome to my world, motherfucker.
By this point the music has stopped, and we're drawing attention. Guests are becoming interested again in our activities. Fantastic, I love giving a good show. It's been a long damn time since I've been able to do this.
I can feel the tendrils of fear and adrenaline coming off Livia. It's like it seeps out of her skin, into mine, into my bloodstream making my own blood pump harder and my own heart match the erratic rhythm of hers. I don't reassure her because I don't want to reassure her. She needs to know what she said yes to and that she doesn't get to fuck around with these things. So she'd better be sure.
I'm not angry now at least. Not at her. Not even at Colin. I know something that will get Colin off my ass and appease him, but all I care about in this moment is the gift I've just been given. Finally, I get to punish her.
I take her to the center of the room and space is made. People break their scenes and move out of the way, forming a circle around us. Every eye in this place is riveted to us. I turn to the string quartet and they rush to fill the empty space with music again.
I don't know the name of the piece they've selected, but it's dark, intense, and seductive.
I point imperially at the ground in front of me. “Kneel,” I say. My voice is hard, short, and clipped. And it makes her flinch.
She gets down on her knees and looks up at me. Real fear is back, and I'm a sick son of a bitch for being turned on by it. A tear slides down her cheek and I grip her chin, lean down, and lick it off her face. She shudders under the caress of my tongue.
“Tell me, slut, what is it you did to earn punishment tonight?” I ask the question loud enough that our assembled audience can hear. They are hanging on every word now.
They've no doubt spent the entire week trying to catch a glimpse of our new toy, wondering when we'd make an appearance with her and if we might share her. They know the gold collar means no. But they can still watch. We'll allow them that privilege at least.
Well not Colin, poor guy. He's been escorted off the property. I have no idea how long Dayne banned him for, but I do sort of love it. He earned that for even asking to touch her. He's not new. He knows the rules here.
“F-for not swallowing, Master,” she says. Her voice is so quiet.
“Louder. They need to know your transgression.”
“For not swallowing, Master,” she says louder, and when she looks up at me her eyes are those twin blue flames again. They say I can take whatever you have to give. Oh yeah? Show me.
“And what else are you being punished for?”
She looks confused. “I-I don't know, Master.”
“Don't you? Don't think I didn't catch you looking to Dayne for permission to suck me off earlier. Let's be clear... I saw you first. If you need anyone's permission for anything, it's mine. Is that clear, Mrs. Kingston?”
It's the first time I've called her by her new last name in public. And I can tell our guests didn't realize things were so much more permanent with Livia. They thought she was just another diversion. I'm sure there will be gossip wondering why she isn't Mrs. Montgomery.
“Y-yes, Master,” she says.
I glance up to the platform to find Dayne lounging in his big leather chair, shaking his head and chuckling. Griffin has moved onto the main floor and stands just at the edges.
“Be useful and bring me a cane, Griff.”
“Soren...”
“Bring. Me. A. Cane. As soon as I finish here, you get to deflower our little anal virgin.”
