Claimed

by Jaymie Holland

  They laughed and talked for a while. John was an FBI agent and Zach owned a couple of exclusive restaurants. Roni was a fashion designer and Christy owned a popular downtown boutique.

  Rick was a little quiet but friendly and sociable. Leslie had never been around him with other people, so she hadn’t known what to expect. Some people were more talkative one-on-one than they were in a crowd.

  They had been laughing and talking a while when John looked at Rick and said, “I thought you looked familiar and now I know why.”

  Leslie glanced at Rick and he seemed to be bracing for something.

  “You’re the Navy SEAL who was decorated with the Navy Cross a few months ago.” John smiled. “It’s great to meet a true American hero.”

  Leslie’s eyes widened. “You didn’t tell me that.”

  “That’s amazing,” Christy said.

  Zach nodded. “It’s an honor.”

  “Wow.” Roni smiled. “I’ve never met a real hero before.”

  Even in the dim light of the kerosene lantern, Leslie thought Rick was blushing. He raised his hands like he was pushing away the compliments. “I’m no hero,” he said. “I was just doing my job.”

  “You went far above and beyond, my friend,” John said then looked at Leslie. “Don’t let him fool you. He may be humble but he is a hero.”

  Rick looked distinctly uncomfortable. “There are many men and women in the service who are true heroes.”

  “Shhh.” Roni put her finger to her lips. “At these things no one uses last names or says anything about knowing the person outside of the event.”

  “Sorry about that,” John said.

  Rick shook his head. “No problem.”

  John looked at Leslie. “This one’s a keeper.”

  Chapter 9

  “Why don’t we check out what’s going on inside?” Zach said, saving both Leslie and Rick from further embarrassment by John’s comment.

  Roni stood. “Let’s go.” She had dark red hair and a full figure and looked great all in leather. John seemed to agree as he stood behind her and palmed her ass, causing her to jump and laugh. Roni was exuberant and fun but she loved to submit to the right men. Looked like John might be that guy. Leslie had heard a story that he had saved Roni’s life, a story she wanted to hear more about.

  “It’ll be fun looking at everything.” Christy stood, too, and grasped Zach’s hand as he got to his feet. Christy wore tight leather pants and a leather bustier. Zach settled his hand at her waist and drew her close to him. Christy had been new to KC but she seemed to have taken to the lifestyle really well. Leslie could tell by the way Christy was with Zach that he was her Dom and was protective of her.

  Rick got up with Leslie and she took his hand again. He seemed even quieter, probably due to his discomfort with the praise lavished over him just moments before. But he squeezed her hand and she gave him a smile as he looked down at her.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said.

  “You’re pretty hot yourself.” She let go of his hand and gripped one of his tight ass cheeks. “Yes, you’re definitely all that and more.”

  They paused for a moment to watch the pony girls trotting in an arena. Leslie didn’t see Kelley. She’d hoped to say hi to her friend.

  “What do you think?” she asked Rick as he observed the action that was taking place in the arena.

  “Explain to me why those women are acting like horses,” Rick said.

  “They’re called pony girls,” she said. “It’s all about control and bizarre looks.”

  “Control and bizarre looks?” His gaze followed one of the pony girls who pranced nearby. A pony boy was also in the ring. “I thought I’d seen everything.”

  “Pony girls often wear modified horse tack like bridles with bits, harnesses, and are usually outfitted with special hooves,” Leslie said. “They usually have a butt plug inserted that has a horsetail coming out of it.”

  Rick looked like he might be intrigued by the whole thing.

  “They might have manes and elaborate headdresses.” Leslie gestured toward a woman who was exceptionally outfitted. “Sometimes they wear horse masks or horse hoods.”

  “Most of them are standing up,” Rick said. “Only a couple are on all fours.”

  “Yes.” Leslie nodded. “Pony girls usually walk upright and are often used to pull carts that carry their Doms.” She looked at Rick. “They’re normally well trained. During their training sessions, they’re taught how to act like ponies—whinnying, high stepping, and prancing are just a few things that they learn.”

  “Let’s go inside.” Leslie tugged on Rick’s hand, pulling his attention away from a harnessed pony girl with pasties on her nipples. She didn’t think it was the girl, so much as it was the fascination he had watching what she was doing.

  Before Leslie and Rick went into the house with their friends, he paused to watch a woman in a schoolgirl outfit on the grass who was on her knees and in stocks. A Dom erotically flogged her bare ass and he was leaving red marks on her ass and thighs. She was crying out with every stroke.

  Someone said, “Put a gag on her and that’ll shut her up.” Those standing around laughed.

  By her expression, it was obvious that the woman loved the attention.

  Rick shook his head, looking amused. “Yep,” he said. “This definitely wasn’t in the training manual.”

  “You must have lived a sheltered life,” she said in a teasing voice.

  He smiled. “If you call never having had any experience around BDSM as being sheltered, I guess so.”

  Leslie laughed. The last thing in the world a SEAL could be was sheltered, but she liked introducing him to something he wasn’t very familiar with.

  They walked into the house that looked pretty normal, save for the unusual way that a lot of people were dressed. The lights were low, people clustered in groups, talking and enjoying the evening.

  Leslie, her friends, and the men they were with all looked vanilla in comparison to almost everyone else in the spacious front room.

  The Kink Club paid for the catering and women and men wearing skimpy leather outfits carried serving trays and moved throughout the room with hors d’oeuvres. There was a bar in a corner of the room where wine, beer, and well drinks were provided.

  Rick raised an eyebrow as he got a good look at some of the furniture. “There’s a woman who’s a lamp.”

  “And those men are serving as a coffee table.” She pointed toward two tightly bound men, each on all fours, with a table on their backs. She gestured toward someone in a stuffed armchair with his feet up. “And there’s a human ottoman.”

  She could tell that Rick was holding back his amusement when he saw a couple of nearly naked human end tables, too.

  “Let’s go upstairs.” Roni raised her voice and pointed to the ceiling. “The real fun stuff is up there.”

  Rick looked hesitant but Leslie gripped his hand tighter and drew him along with her and they headed up the stairs.

  The farmhouse was a big place and upstairs there were six bedrooms. Each had been transformed into a different theme.

  The first room had a St. Andrew’s cross and a man was strapped to it while a female Domme used a whip on him, drawing out every strike of the thin leather. Red welts patterned his torso and legs. The man cried out with each lash.

  When it came to players at the club, they had to adhere to the guidelines of safe, sane, and consensual BDSM. If they didn’t they were out. There were dungeon masters and mistress in each venue. Wearing black armbands, their job was to make certain everything was safe.

  A woman was bent over a spanking bench, being paddled by another Domme. A chain dangled from the ceiling that a third person hung from while being flogged by a male Dom.

  In the far corner was a set of stocks with a sub being struck with a riding crop by a Dom.

  Male and female Doms and their subs were waiting for their turns.

  “Ah, here’s the debauchery.” Rick l
ooked down at Leslie. “You do know that if one of us was to get flogged in here, it wouldn’t be me.”

  She hooked her arm in his and smiled. “No worries. I’ve never gotten into public spanking.”

  “That’s probably because you always liked to do the spanking,” he said. “In the past.”

  “Yes.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “In the past.”

  They went to the next room where a male and a female were using rope bondage and giving a demonstration on good techniques. The hogtied female did not look like she was going anywhere soon.

  “Interesting.” Rick observed the intricate rope bondage being used on several subs.

  “Take notes,” Leslie said with a smile.

  He glanced down at her. “Believe me, I am.”

  After watching some of the rope bondage for a while, they moved on to the third room. In it subs were suspended and played with by their Doms and Dommes. A couple of Doms were teaching how to suspend safely.

  “Suspension can be dangerous if not done right,” Leslie said to Rick.

  “Have you ever been suspended?” he asked. “Other than the sex swing you have.”

  Thoughts of Michael came to her but this time she didn’t feel the pain and anger that normally went along with memories of him. Maybe she was over what he’d done and able to move on.

  “Yes, I’ve been suspended,” she said. “But it was a very long time ago.”

  “You have something to tell me, don’t you,” he stated. “Something you need to get off your chest.”

  She was quiet for a moment then she nodded. “Yes. I will tell you sometime when we’re alone.”

  “Good.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m here for you.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  A fourth room had subs who had been put into various devices, like stocks and cages.

  Rick looked over five cages, side-by-side and there was a man or woman in each cage. He glanced at Leslie. “I think I’d like to put you in yours. In private.”

  Pleasant heat swept over her at the thought of Rick caging her.

  He gave a devious grin before turning his attention back to what was going on in the room.

  A Domme had her sub in a set of stocks and was using a cupping set on the female’s breasts.

  Rick looked puzzled. “What is that Domme doing?”

  “There are Asian techniques where cupping is used to treat illness, sore muscles, injuries, and other things. There are different ways of doing it.” Leslie nodded toward the Domme. “She’s using suction cups with a gun that takes out all of the air in the cup and sort of sucks a little of the skin and flesh in that spot into the cup. In BDSM play it’s another method of controlling a person’s pain and pleasure.

  “She’s doing it on that woman’s breasts.” Rick looked at Leslie. “That’s gotta hurt.”

  Leslie nodded. “Believe me, it does.”

  “I thought you didn’t let anyone do anything to control you,” Rick said.

  She shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

  The fifth room had Doms using things like violet wands, clothespins, and other interesting items and techniques while topping their subs.

  Room number six was wax play. Massage tables were lined up and on them were women with naked breasts and men with bare chests. Doms and Dommes were dripping different colors of candlewax onto the subs’ bodies, some in intricate patterns.

  “I love wax play.” Leslie looked up at Rick. “There’s something so sensual about creating a masterpiece on a sub’s body.”

  “Doesn’t it burn?” he asked. “Wax can get hot.”

  “Certain types of waxes can be used that don’t burn the skin,” she said. “Baby oil is normally rubbed on each person’s body to make the wax easier to remove.”

  After touring the upstairs events, Christy and Zach decided to enjoy the spanking room while Roni wanted to experience wax play with John.

  “How about practicing using some rope bondage on me?” Leslie said to Rick. “Breast-binding is fun and any number of other things.”

  “I’m hungry,” he said. “How about we go for some of that barbeque that I’m smelling right now.”

  “Barbeque sounds good.” Leslie tried not to feel disappointed that Rick wasn’t into doing any of the upstairs activities. Maybe later they would. Come to think of it, she was pretty hungry, too.

  As they walked outside, Rick said, “All of the toys are fun and I enjoy exciting you by what you love.”

  “Wow. You get into this more than I thought,” she said.

  “I told you that I liked it,” he said. “I never found anyone who wanted to play so I never pursued it.” He looked down at her surprised expression. “Hey, I’m a male. What male doesn’t look at the Internet? I always enjoyed the bondage sites, so I’m not a complete newbie to it.”

  “I didn’t realize you had a real interest in it,” she said. “I thought it was more curiosity.”

  “I don’t find that the public thing is something I would probably do unless you were turned on by it,” he said, “it seems to lose some of its intimacy with everyone around, but the thought of doing it all with you excites me. Watching all of this is actually a kind of foreplay. There are things here I find hot and would love to try with you.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Never thought I would like the collar and the leash, but that is a hot look,” he said. “It is a bit of a contrast for you. In control, independent, but I would love to pull you around at the end of a leash.”

  Leslie smiled. “I can’t believe I am actually saying this, but being at the end of a leash with you would excite me. Just about all of this excites me, but it takes it to another level when it is with someone you are connected with.”

  “So, it takes it to another level for you with me, huh?” he said.

  She hooked her arm through his. “Let’s just say you are in the exciting phase for me.”

  “Oh, the phase right before being discarded on the heap of males you have gotten rid of.”

  “I should never have told you about that.” She laughed. “I will admit that you would be the hottest looking male in that pile.”

  “Thanks for that image.” He shook his head but had an amused expression. “Good to know what phase I am and that I will eventually be in the discard heap.”

  How different you are Rick Pierce, she thought. In some strange way, she could not tell him how she felt though. It was as if there was an element of control deep in her that wanted him to wonder… If he even did. Another part of her wanted to think that there was nothing to this. It was all about guarding her feelings.

  After she and Rick found paper plates and filled them with barbeque ribs, bread rolls, potato salad, deviled eggs, and roasted veggies, and each grabbed a can of soda, they found an empty table in a far corner of the farmyard. She scooted onto the bench across from Rick and they dug in.

  “So good.” She sighed as she pushed her nearly empty plate aside.

  He had gone back for seconds and had just polished off the rest of his dinner. “Excellent.” He set his plate and plastic fork aside like she had, then folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Why don’t you tell me now about whatever it is in your past that bothers you so much?”

  Taken by surprise, her lips parted but nothing came out.

  “You can do it, honey.” His tone, the way he looked at her, somehow gave her courage she hadn’t had for a long time.

  “I was a sub once.” She studied Rick’s features but there was no change in the way he was looking at her.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “His name was Michael.” She looked up at the millions of stars in the sky that were so clear out here in the country. She turned her gaze back to Rick. “I loved him. At least I thought I did.”

  “What happened?”

  She glanced down at her hands, so small after having stared up at the heavens. When she looked at Rick again, she said, �
�He was having affairs with other women.” She shoved her hair behind her ears. “It hurt so much that I swore I would never let myself care again.”

  “That’s when you started topping.” Rick didn’t look judgmental, just concerned.

  She nodded. “Bondage, domination… It’s a part of me that I couldn’t push away into some corner. I’ve found domination to be almost healing.”

  “Almost,” Rick said.

  With a nod she said, “Almost.”

  Talking about Michael made her feel like a weight had been lifted from her chest and she actually felt like smiling for the first time when she thought about him. He wasn’t worth her anger and she should have realized that a long time ago. It was time for her to move on.

  They were quiet for a moment and she looked into his gaze, wanting to tell him how she felt now but the words wouldn’t come.

  “Why don’t you ever talk about your family?” he asked.

  She frowned. “Because there isn’t anything positive to talk about.”

  He didn’t look like he was going to let her put him off. “Maybe that’s something you need to get off of your chest, too.”

  “I suppose.” She sighed. “I grew up with very wealthy and very absent parents. I was raised with a host of nannies and tutors then sent off to boarding school as soon as I was old enough. My father was a mean bastard and my mother was a social snob.” Leslie pushed her hair out of her face. “Getting pregnant with me was the last thing on earth she wanted. She had surgeries to get her body back in shape but it was never quite the way she wanted it to be.”

  Everything rolled out of her so fast she hadn’t been able to stop herself. She clenched her fist on the tabletop. “I wasn’t wanted and it wasn’t the best upbringing any child could have.”

  He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. His touch was almost healing. It was like he took the bad feelings, the bad memories and drew them into himself then disposed of them. It was the oddest, yet wonderful, feeling.

  “I didn’t realize how much I needed to get that out.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t talk to anyone about my parents or Michael.”