by Livia Grant
Leaning forward, I kissed her softly.
When I pulled away, she smiled. “Oh, and I’m green, sir.” Her eyes closed for a moment or two before she tried again, this time opening them completely. “Make that yellow-green. I’m a little wobbly, but not too bad.”
“We’ll take it slow.” I knew she’d remain unsteady until I was done freeing her from the wheel. I untied the ropes holding her breasts captive, slowly unwrapping each one. She drew her breath in with a sharp hiss as the last rope released and blood began to flood back into tissues that had been constricted.
“Easy,” I said when she flinched as I cupped the abused mounds. She quivered as I gently massaged her breasts, softly stroking over nipples that still had not yet receded to their normal size. I didn’t rush, giving her body time to process the return to normality. When she gave a long sigh, I asked, “Better?”
“Much, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, there’s still the matter of the hook in your ass. Ready to have it out?”
“Is that some sort of trick question?” she asked snarkily. I moved behind her and gave a tug on the rope connecting her hair to the anal hook. “I’m sorry,” she squealed, her toes curling against the floor. “I meant, yes, Master. I would very much appreciate it if you’d remove the hook from my ass.”
I untied the rope from her hair, allowing it to drop as I took hold of the steel. Turning it a little, I slowly began to work to release her from a bondage I was positive she’d never considered possible.
“Oh God.”
The way the words were uttered had me immediately halting any progress.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just got a mental picture of myself as some sort of mutant fish only instead of a hook in my mouth, I… Well, hell, I guess I did swallow it, didn’t I?”
I couldn’t help it. Chuckling, I resumed my task. “Yes, but I don’t see a fish. I see a beautiful woman not afraid to explore her sexuality.” Another sigh had me halting again. “I’m serious,” I reassured her.
“I know, and the sub in me thanks you,” she said, turning her head to look over her shoulder.
“And what does Ms. Keller think?”
“She’s beginning to wonder if there is anything you aren’t so damn good at.”
With a final tug, the ball popped free and she squealed. “I suppose I could use more practice at this,” I offered, bending forward to plant a kiss on each of her ass cheeks. Rising, I quickly undid the cuffs around her wrists and ankles, then helped her down from the wheel, keeping her hand in mine. “I’ve yet to show you the rest of the club. Ready to go back to the theater and see where our final spin will send us?”
Red hair swished as she shook her head and then smiled. “Wasn’t it you who said curiosity killed the cat?”
I pulled her to me and bent down to speak against her ear. “A very wise woman reminded me satisfaction brought it back.”
Chapter 10
Ember
We returned to the theater after a quick stop in the ladies’ room where I emptied my bladder and then washed my face and hands. When the wheel stopped spinning, I couldn’t decide if I was being punished for being a bad girl, or if Braxton was being rewarded for being… well, for being Braxton.
As if needing to confirm what Mistress Madison had just announced, I leaned over the wheel to see the traitor — aka the little white ball — had really landed where she said it had.
Anal Intercourse.
I mean seriously, what were the odds? The grin on Braxton’s face told me there was no way in hell he’d listed this as a hard limit. I suppose I should have, but there were far more worrisome possibilities on the list attached to the application I’d chosen instead.
“What if there has already been a lot of anal play?” I asked, sudden inspiration flaring as I turned my gaze to the woman who was in charge of the event.
“Was intercourse part of that play?” Madison asked.
My first thought was to ask if ginger plugs or stainless-steel hooks qualified but lost my nerve. Instead, I simply shook my head. “No.”
“Then you may consider the play as a bonus,” she offered with a grin.
“Oh goodie,” I muttered only to hear both of them laugh.
Madison glanced over at a clock and added, “It’s a little after 10:00 o’clock, so you have less than an hour before the end of Roulette.”
Before I could respond, Braxton said, “In that case, we’d better get to it.”
He might not be dragging me across the floor but sweeping me off my feet and tossing me over his shoulder proved that within the modern businessman lived a Neanderthal.
“I can walk you know.” I was speaking to his back on our way out of the theater.
“This is faster,” he said, stating the obvious as he pushed through the curtain.
“Very funny,” I huffed. “You know, for a man whose very success depends on everything being exactly in the right place at the right time, I’m really surprised you seem to get off on… well, on messy stuff.”
“Don’t expect me to apologize,” he said as he carried me through the club for the final time. “Not when you’ve got such a fabulous body no heterosexual male could keep his hands off.”
“Flattery is not going to get you anywhere, Mr. Foster.”
His loud bark of laughter had my belly fluttering, as if already understanding a submissive did not decide the agenda of this particular meeting. Accepting the fact he was not setting me on my feet until he reached his destination, I lifted my head to see exactly where that location might be. We passed an elevator on the left side of the room, my fingers gripping his shirt as he went up some steps.
Crowds of people filled the corridor. Braxton paused but all I could do was stare at the wall.
Holy shit.
I was looking at a woman locked into stocks. It wasn’t that or even her mouth being stretched obscenely wide around the cock of the man standing before her that had me staring. Both of those weren’t exactly novel in any BDSM club. What was absolutely amazing about the photograph on the wall was that it showed the woman’s hair was not only mussed, it had been teased to within an inch of its life. I seemed to remember the style had been referred to as a beehive in the 60s. I could understand why as her hair stood at least a full foot from her scalp.
Another small niche held a bra, belt and panties unlike any I’d ever seen. They weren’t made of silk, lace, or even cotton. Reflected light identified them as metal. The studded belt had two chains connected to what I first thought was a pair of panties in the shape of a shield. The small keyhole at its base revealed the set as some sort of archaic chastity device.
Whipping my head to the left, I was met with neon lighting that washed everything with a rosy hue. I saw a few women behind a huge plate glass window modeling… no, posing… no, advertising was the word springing to mind.
“Is this place what I think it is?” I asked.
“If you think it’s a Red Light District, then yes,” Braxton said, continuing to press forward, people parting before him like the Red Sea had parted for Moses.
“Are those… Omigod, they are! They’re actual glory holes!”
“They are,” Braxton agreed, bending forward so I slid off his shoulder.
And since he’d stopped in the middle of the hallway, only a few feet from a hole where a man’s cock was appearing and disappearing as he thrust into some anonymous mouth behind the wall, I did the only sane thing — I attempted to climb back up him like a spider monkey.
Braxton chuckled, pried my nails from his shirt, and set me onto my feet.
“You are not going to stick me behind some wall,” I protested, stomping my foot the moment my heel touched the floor.
“Not all of you,” he said, the statement so ludicrous I simply had no immediate response.
Braxton placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me around. I was so focused on attempting to decipher his meaning I wasn’t immediately awa
re Braxton’s hands had pushed my dress off my shoulders until silk fell to my waist.
“Remember what Mistress Madison told us; we don’t have a great deal of time.”
He had my shoes and clothing off in under thirty seconds, leaving me in my stockings and heels. Stepping forward, he rapped his knuckles twice against the wall.
The fact someone had actually dreamed up such a hallway should have prepared me, but I was still startled when the wall began to shift apart. Braxton motioned me forward, so I went backwards.
A deep masculine voice stating, “Wrong direction,” preceded a gentle pressure against my shoulder blade, halting my retreat.
Looking behind me, I saw the reason why another man would touch a submissive who was obviously with a partner. This man was also a dom and was simply keeping the submissive kneeling at his side from having my stiletto heel planted into her thigh. Sitting back on her feet, she was as naked as I, except for the cat ears she was wearing and the long furry tail that curled around her hip. I had no doubt exactly where the other end was.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized.
“No harm done,” the dom said. Dropping his hand from me, he gestured toward the opposite wall. “Though I do suggest you remember your choice to serve and return to your dom before he decides to come get you.”
Perhaps it was his suggestion, though it was more likely the knowledge I wasn’t the only woman being asked to do kinky things, but I followed his advice. When Braxton reached out, I took his hand and allowed him to draw me back to the wall.
“You didn’t have this on your hard limit list, but I need to know if you are claustrophobic, or put down anything having to do with sensory deprivation.”
I seriously considered taking the out being offered, but while it would keep me on this side of the wall, it wouldn’t keep me from knowing I’d lied. “No… but that’s not to say I’m a huge fan of dark enclosed spaces.”
“I think you’ll be surprised,” he said. “Lean forward and put your head into the hole.”
My heart pounding, I gave him a last pleading look.
He ran his fingers along my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Have I disappointed you yet?” he asked.
He’d taunted.
He’d tested.
He’d pushed.
He’d demanded I give him far more than I’d ever thought possible.
But the one thing he hadn’t done was disappoint me.
“No, sir,” I answered honestly.
“And if you give me your trust, I promise you won’t be disappointed now.”
And wasn’t that what this journey was all about? Not only pushing myself to try new things, but trusting him enough to give myself permission to enjoy those experiences along the way? Looking up, I nodded.
He didn’t speak, simply slid his hand up to curl around my neck and offered silent guidance as he helped me comply with his request. I bent forward and stuck my head through the wall and discovered fear of the unknown was often unfounded. Instead of a dark, dank hole, there was light along the entire length of the hallway. Not only was there a woman kneeling as she serviced the cock before her, there was a man a few feet away. He was wearing the uniform of a Black Light dungeon master.
“Thanks for popping in,” he said, giving me a smile and a wink as he stepped forward.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, but his lame humor surprisingly helped settle my nerves and allowed me to smile tentatively in return.
“Is more of you coming through?”
I honesty had no idea what he meant but Braxton saved me when he answered, “No, not today.”
“Okay then, don’t be startled. I’m going to close the wall, but you’ll be fine,” the DM informed me.
The photo of the woman in the stocks came to mind as the wall began to close. Before I could panic, Braxton’s hand began to stroke along my back. “You’re doing great. Kaiden won’t leave you alone.” He pressed something into my hand, and I recognized it as the ball I’d held earlier. “Like before, if you need to stop, just drop the ball.”
I closed my fist and felt him lift my arm and press it against the wall. It was amazing how just that seemed to anchor me. I placed my other palm on the wall as well.
“Ready to play?”
His voice was slightly fainter but still audible as he’d obviously crouched down to make sure I was all right, to assure me he was still there.
I nodded and then rolled my eyes again when the DM chuckled and said, “He can’t see you nod, honey.”
“Oh, right. Um… yes, I’m ready, Master.”
Chapter 11
Braxton
I’d negotiated more deals than I could count. Wagered millions of dollars on my ability to read people and understand what drove them. Hundreds of employees depended on me to make the right choices and keep Foster Enterprises not only solvent, but a company they were happy to work for. I was proud of my achievements as I worked damn hard for every one of them, but the thing that I valued the most was this.
Trust.
Trust in me to keep her safe from harm.
Trust that, as her dom, I would demand much of her, push her further each time we played with the goal of making sure every moment of her submission was treated as the valuable gift it was. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to enjoy her protests, whimpers, gasps, moans, and mewls as I did all sorts of salaciously kinky things to her body. I hadn’t been lying earlier when she’d been on the exam table. I really did think dirty girls made the best partners.
Straightening, I ran my hand down her arm and along her side, splaying my fingers to trace along flesh quickly pebbling into tiny little bumps. Running over the curve of her ass, my cock twitched with anticipation and I grinned.
It was time to get dirty.
I used my foot to press against the inside of Ember’s ankle, giving her silent instruction to spread her legs apart. A moment of the barest hesitation before she obeyed had me suspecting she believed I was about to step between them. She’d learn I seldom did what one expected.
Unbuckling my belt, I pulled the leather from its loops and doubled the length in my hand, securing the buckle end in my fist. Ember had said she loved bondage, and I knew she’d enjoyed the flogger as well. Though she’d seemed reluctant after her last spin, she’d not truly objected. That alone had me determined to give her more.
Checking around me to ensure I wasn’t going to strike anything other than my intended target, I lifted my arm and swung. The solid smack of leather against flesh was met by a muted startled yelp from within the wall. I continued, working the belt across her cheeks, placing each new stroke a fraction of an inch below the previous. When I placed the first across the sensitive skin where ass met thigh, Ember’s slim hips began to sway. It was a dance done since the beginning of time and yet one that would never go out of style.
The lighting in the hall cast a reddish glow on everything, including the glistening of Ember’s cream as it began to seep from between the lips of her pussy. Moving forward, I ran my hand over her buttocks. They were warm to the touch. Slightly raised ridges were a hue darker than the rest of her flesh. Sliding my hand down, I cupped her cunt, slipping a finger into her and then another as the sound of her moan drifted from the wall. A third was added, her body bowing as if attempting to pull away. Poor girl. She was going to learn how futile trying to deny me what I wished her to experience was always going to be.
A quick slap of the belt against the back of her right thigh had her squeal and my entire hand minus my thumb pushed into the tight wet heat of her. I didn’t give her time to reflect. Adjusting the angle of my hand, I slipped an arm around her waist, holding her still as I pulled out only to thrust forward, building up speed until the only audible sound within our little world was the distinctive slap of flesh against flesh, the only aroma that of a woman in a heightened state of arousal.
When she began to keen, the sound eerie yet so fucking sexy, I increased my speed, until her mus
cles clamped down around my fingers. Pulling my fingers out, a small amount of liquid flowed. She was so incredibly wet, but I wasn’t near satisfied. I resumed, pushing her toward an experience she’d never forget. I fucked her hard and fast, my fingers deep inside her before pulling out the moment she began to clench.
“Please!” she screamed, “Please fuck me!” her need evident in her raw plea.
“Not until you come for me,” I demanded. Sliding my hand back into her, changing the angle to allow my fingers to abrade her sensitive walls, I granted her no mercy as I continued to pump in and out of her. Her entire body trembled, though the hand holding the red ball never so much as flexed. Ember’s mind might not believe she was capable, but her body knew exactly what it needed, what her very soul craved.
“Come, now,” I ordered, ripping my hand from her, the keen becoming a scream that lifted the hairs on the back of my neck as liquid squirted from her.
Dropping my belt, I heard applause thundering along the corridor, but I didn’t bother to look to see what had earned the crowd’s approval. I didn’t really care. The only thing I was concerned about was the repeated plea coming from behind the wall. Pulling a condom from my pocket, I stripped out of my clothes. Sheathing my cock, I stepped between her trembling legs.
Spreading her cheeks, I pushed my thumb into her ass. The play over the previous hours allowed her to yield with only a slight jerk of her hips before she pushed back to meet my thrusts.
“Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes!”
Replacing my thumb with two fingers, I coaxed her sphincter to relax, but my cock wasn’t going in without help.
“Here.”
A hand holding a tube came into view from my right. A guy had to love a club filled with kindred spirits.
Squirting a liberal amount on my fingers, I began to work the lubricant into her. Coating my cock, I dropped the tube. I took my time, pressing in inch by inch, not only to allow her time to adjust, but because I fucking loved watching a submissive’s little hole slowly surrendering, the wrinkles rimming her little pucker disappearing as the skin was forced to stretch wide, allowing my cock to sink inside.
