He stroked her legs with both hands before untying them so she could stretch them out. Then he spun her around again and she already had her mouth open to lick him clean, the taste of their juices mixed together rolling over her tongue as she slowly, lovingly sucked him.
He tenderly stroked her hair. “Such a good girl.” He pulled her off his cock and she assumed he tucked it away in his shorts. Then his hands cradled her head.
“Say it.”
She’d been already starting to climb back into consciousness, but his hard, commanding tone yanked her back down into subspace the way it always did.
“I belong to Sir, mind, body, heart, soul, cunt, and ass. I serve Sir at His wishes, at his whim, whenever and wherever He demands. Everything I have and am belongs to Sir, to give to Him when He demands.” Normally, she only said it to him in the morning and at night, kneeling before him or next to him, depending on what he wanted.
But when he wanted her to say it any other time, it was always a sure-fire way to pull her mind exactly where he wanted it focused.
“Such a good girl.”
He quickly untied her arms and hair, scooping one arm under her body as he loosened and released the belaying ropes so she could get her feet under her. Still keeping one arm around her, he worked quickly to remove the belaying ropes from the harness so he could ease her down onto her towel, which he’d apparently positioned during his own prep after he’d blindfolded her.
He still didn’t remove that. First the nipple clamps, his mouth moving in to suck at her nipples and ease the pain, the left and then the right, as he removed the clamps and blood came rushing back into them. Next, he worked to untie her, no doubt coiling his ropes as he did. She heard the sound of them hitting the rope bag as he finished coiling each one and tossed them in.
Once the ropes were gone, he draped a fleece blanket around her. “Stay,” he whispered.
He disappeared, but only for a moment, before he returned and helped her up and away from the mats. Still blindfolded, she let him guide her across the patio, then heard the sound of a slider being opened and the feel of carpet under her feet. He took her to the sofa, where he sat and then pulled her into his lap, cradling her against him.
“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered back.
He chuckled. “You know that makes me want to fuck you again. Be careful.”
Smiling, she tucked her face against his chest and relaxed, knowing she was utterly safe in his arms and content to let the world stay away for a little bit longer, before he removed her blindfold.
Her island of calm, her rock, her lighthouse.
He always had been.
Her sanity in more ways than he realized.
Hopefully ways he’d never even know about, if she was lucky.
For now, the last thing on her mind was that night.
And for that, she was extremely grateful.
Chapter Eight
Bill and Gabe had just left home and were on their way to Cali’s when Bill asked it.
“You’re carrying, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” she mumbled.
He let out a sigh. “Do I need to make it a hard rule?”
“No, Sir,” she mumbled. “I was going to lock it in the trunk anyway. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“The ‘big deal’ is that we are off the clock, and you know damn well I’m carrying. I thought we’d agreed that when we’re going to a party, you don’t carry.”
“Nooo, technically you said you wished I wouldn’t carry.”
At the next red light, he stared at her, his right eyebrow arching skyward. “Gabe,” he quietly said. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I trust you. I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t trust you. It’s everyone else I don’t trust. You know as well as I do how fast shit can go downhill.”
“This isn’t a human trafficking raid. This is a BDSM party. These are our friends. Friends we trust.”
“And if June hadn’t been carrying that day on Manasota Key, when they’d gone out there to do tai chi and walk on the beach, she and Betsy might have died. And June’s a civilian. Light’s green, Sir.”
She breathed a slight sigh of relief as Bill turned to start driving again. “Okay. New rule, sweetheart. Daddy’s good girl is not allowed to carry at a private party without permission. And by carry, I mean on your person, in your purse, or by any other means. Understood?”
Gabe knew she could safeword for it…but knew Bill was counting on her not safewording for it. “Yes, Sir.”
“Say it back to me so I know you aren’t trying to find a loophole.”
“I’m not allowed to bring a firearm with me to a private party without asking Daddy’s permission first. Happy?”
“No. Try it again without the loophole.”
She felt her face heat. “What loophole?”
He actually pulled over, into a convenience store parking lot, shifted the car into park, and turned to face her. “Gabe,” he quietly said. “Either you trust me to keep you safe, or you don’t. Now say it so we can go to the party, or safeword, or option three, we can go home and have a talk about this and I’ll call Ethan and Brita and tell them we aren’t meeting them there. Your choice.”
She stared into his hazel eyes, melting, finally letting out a huffy sigh. “When going to private parties, I won’t bring any weapons, as defined by Florida’s concealed carry statutes for civilians, or weapons which are allowed to be carried by active law enforcement officers, without Daddy’s permission.”
He smirked. “Good girl. I think. What else do you have?”
She snorted “A collapsible baton in my purse. But to be fair, probably half our friends carry those in their toybags.”
“If they’re a Top, yes. Did you suddenly become switchy and fail to tell me about it?”
She scowled. “No, Daddy.”
He laughed and leaned in for a kiss. “You’d think after a couple of years with me that you’d be used to this by now.”
When they reached Cali’s house, he held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
Gabe somehow managed to hold back her frustrated grumble as she removed the gun, her private sidearm, a .380, from the sticky-pouch holster in her purse. She popped the magazine and removed the chambered round before handing the firearm and ammo to him.
“I’ll let you keep your badge and your baton,” he teased. “How’s that?”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“I don’t see Ethan’s car. They’re probably not here yet. You sit here while I lock this up.” He popped the trunk and got out to lock her firearm—and probably his, too—in the gun safe mounted in his trunk.
Gabe didn’t know Ethan and Brita as well as Bill did. Bill had worked with Ethan, Sarasota County Sheriff’s Office detective, on joint task forces, and the two had become friends as a result. Brita was a retired sheriff’s office detective and former military. After being injured on the job, she’d taken a disability pension. Gabe still worked as a special agent for the FDLE out of the Sarasota office. Human trafficking and crimes against children were her areas of expertise.
Unfortunately, there were plenty of cases for her to work on.
Brita and Ethan had only recently started making it out to private events. Since Ethan was still active law enforcement in Sarasota, they didn’t want to take the risk of going to Venture. They didn’t even come out to the munches, although Brita had once met them at Sigalo’s for a Saturday night dinner.
The two weren’t exactly an official couple, but Gabe was still unclear as to why. Bill had mentioned it was something to do with Brita not wanting to label it, and he hadn’t wanted to pry. They were sort of a mix between friends with bennies and dating, now dipping their toes into the kinky end of things.
After how she and Bill first started out, Gabe understood complicated relationships.
Bill shut the trunk and walked around to open her door an
d offer her a hand. They’d been able to park on the street, in front of Cali, Max, and Sean’s house at the end of the cul-de-sac. There were a few other cars there already.
“Did you bring the card?” he quietly asked.
Her mood immediately shifted, somber. “Yes, Sir.” She held it up.
He pulled her in for a kiss. “Good girl.” After opening the back door, he handed her the casserole carrier with their contribution to the potluck dinner, then grabbed his toybag. After locking the car, he led her to their front door and rang the bell.
Max answered, greeting them with smile and hugs. “Glad to see you guys made it.”
“Wouldn’t want to miss it,” Bill said. “God knows we miss enough of them from work.”
“Yeah, that must suck. Come on in.”
Gabe waited for him to shut the door before handing him the card. “That’s for Kel and Mal.”
His smile tightened, drawn. “Thanks. I’ll go put it with the others.”
“Any updates?”
“Chelbie said Mal still doesn’t want to see anyone yet, but she appreciates the love and concern.”
“How’s Kel doing?”
He shrugged. “Chelbie kind of hinted it’s hit him really hard, too. Obviously. But you know us stubborn Doms. I’ll go put this up.”
“Oh,” Bill said. “If you’ll let me know when Ethan and Br—”
The doorbell rang, cutting Bill off.
Max held up a finger. “Hold that thought.” He opened the door, and there stood Ethan and Brita.
“Ah, perfect timing,” Bill said. “Max, these are our friends, Ethan and Brita.”
“Ah, you look familiar,” Max said, welcoming them in. “I think we’ve met before at other parties.” More people were approaching. “I’ll let Bill and Gabe show you around. They’ve been here before.”
Gabe fell in step with Brita as Bill led the way, talking with Ethan.
Brita leaned in. “Ethan made me leave my sidearm at home,” she muttered. “Rat bastard.”
The laugh felt good. “Sir made me hand mine over when we got here. He locked it in the trunk. He also instituted a new rule that I’m not allowed to carry at a private party without permission.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“And you let him?”
Gabe shrugged. “I trust him. Besides, he let me keep my badge and my baton.”
* * * *
Brita wasn’t as familiar with some of the members of the Suncoast Society as Ethan was. When they’d ventured into this…whatever it was, she’d been desperately worried not to out him at work. To the point that she didn’t want to attend the munches with him, even though he’d said he was fine with them going to the events. Still, he’d given in to her on that point.
For now.
He’d accompanied Bill and Gabe to several of the private events before trying to talk Brita into attending with him.
Yes, her logic brain knew he was a big boy capable of taking care of himself. He had clearly stated that he wanted her to leave that worrying to him.
It didn’t make her anxiety go away. Fortunately, he was patient and understanding and willing to give her time to grow more comfortable at her pace. If she was ever going to trust someone, she’d trust Ethan. She’d known him for over eight years now, and if she couldn’t trust him, she had no business being in a relationship with him.
As Bill and Gabe introduced them around, Brita tried to relax…and couldn’t. Not due to any fault of the other partygoers, but due to her own training and PTSD.
And the fact that she felt naked without a firearm strapped to her.
BDSM was something she wanted to explore more in-depth with Ethan, but she wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t too broken to be able to fully enjoy it, no matter what Ethan said to the contrary.
She knew Bill and Gabe were relatively light players on the BDSM scale. It wasn’t even impact play that bothered her. She knew the people here were all consenting adults. Nothing happened that hadn’t been agreed upon ahead of time.
It was…the people.
Not even the people in particular. Just…people.
Crowds.
It was something she was working on, and being at a private home was easier than, say, a crowd in public. It was easier for her to release her hyper-vigilance in a situation like this than at a concert, for example.
Thank god Ethan’s patient.
The man was practically a saint to put up with her. And tonight he kept his arm draped around her shoulders, her five-seven frame fitting perfectly against his six-two.
Eventually, though, Ethan noticed her discomfort.
Ethan leaned in, waiting until she met his gaze. “You all right?”
She gave him a quick nod. She didn’t want to get into a “discussion” right now. Not there, surrounded by mostly strangers.
Not the best place.
She still wasn’t even sure what niche she fit into in regards to BDSM. She knew she loved Ethan, especially since he’d been amazing and not forced her into a commitment she wasn’t ready or able to make yet. They were exclusive, even if she didn’t call them boyfriend and girlfriend.
They were…friends.
Good friends.
Friends who fucked.
Frequently.
They mingled and while Gabe and Bill went to go play, Brita and Ethan ended up chatting with Cali and Max, two of their three hosts tonight. Brita had seen the e-mail Cali had sent out, but she wasn’t sure she’d even met Kel and Mal.
Ethan, however, had. And had even brought a card for them, which he’d handed over earlier, upon their arrival.
“I didn’t get to ask you earlier. How are they doing?”
Max shrugged. “As well as can be expected. We’re going to check in with Chelbie tomorrow and coordinate dropping off the cards for them.”
Someone else needed Max and Cali’s attention, and the two of them headed off.
Brita leaned in. “Remind me which ones they were again?”
“Who?”
“Kel and Mal? I thought Mal was that singer guy.”
“No. Mal short for Mallory. She worked the phone table at the Valentine’s Day party.”
Brita gasped, heat filling her face at her stupidity. “Oh, my god,” she whispered. “She was so happy! They were deciding on names and everything.”
Ethan grimly nodded but didn’t reply.
Neither of them had biological kids, and Brita knew she didn’t want any. Ethan was still close to his stepson from his previous marriage, and Brita doted on her eight-year-old niece.
That was as close as Brita wanted to having children.
But…
She remembered the couple now, Kel frequently checking in with his wife, happily telling people about their plans, including they were getting ready to put the nursery together.
Nope.
Even more reason for her to hold fast to her decision.
She had enough stress and worry in her life now. She didn’t need the additional worry of kids of her own. While she enjoyed time spent with her niece, Jordan, she practically panicked if the little girl was out of her sight, even though Brita knew that was an irrational response.
But she’d seen too many bad things happen to people, including to children, in her line of work. And she’d gotten shot after responding to a domestic dispute, her injuries compounded by falling off a porch onto a low, concrete wall, while trying to protect a little boy from his mother’s drunk and raging boyfriend.
“Want to go snuggle and watch?” Ethan suggested.
“That sounds good, thanks.”
* * * *
It’d taken Bill a lot of patient loving to work Gabe up to finally feeling comfortable getting fully naked even at the private parties. Now, once he firmly took control of her during play, she could shut her mind off and give herself to him and enjoy where he took her.
Made her feel not-broken.
Tonight, instead of a bench, Bi
ll had opted to stake out a quiet corner in the living room and started using his growing shibari skills on her to securely truss her up.
At home, he frequently used handcuffs on her. Fast, easy…and since they both had regulation cuffs, accessible.
Now she sat, naked on a towel, blindfolded, with her legs tied bent at the knees and her arms secured behind her, leaving her open and vulnerable. Obviously tonight there wouldn’t be any of the lighter impact play he sometimes engaged in with her.
Bill pulled her back so she lay against him and reached around to play with her nipples. “Someone’s going to have to earn these orgasms tonight.”
Gabe swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir.”
“Is my good girl going to suck my cock in front of everyone after we’re done?”
She arched her back to push her breasts against his palms. “Yes, Sir.”
Bill increased the force of his pinching, until a soft moan escaped her. Her clit tingled, throbbing from both the anticipation and from what he’d started doing to her.
“Then my good girl also needs to wear a butt plug for me. Because by the time we get home, I’m going to be ready for a second round.” She felt him reach for something, then came the feel of it touching her, sliding around until he found her rim. “Right there?”
Nervous, she nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” Bill started pressing it against her rim, a smaller one, one she could easily take. As he slowly fucked the lubed toy into her, she had to bite down on her lower lip to stifle her moan.
“That’s it. Take it for me.” She couldn’t really move to help him, either, from the awkward angle she was at, with his right arm reaching down between her legs in front of her.
After a few minutes of teasing, brushing his thumb across her clit as he worked the butt plug into her ass, he finally got it seated in there.
“Good girl.” She felt him pick something else up.
The click and hum reached her ears a split second before he pressed the head of the Hitachi against her clit. Between the sweet fullness in her ass, and the relentless vibrator, her orgasm started immediately.
Now she didn’t have time to feel self-conscious in the least, because she was too busy trying not to scream at the pleasure slamming through her.
Happy Spank Patrick's Day [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 6
