One Night in a Dungeon: Savage Kinksters Book 2

by Shay Savage

  One Night

  in a Dungeon

  Shay Savage

  Copyright © 2020 Shay Savage

  All Rights Reserved

  Editing: Chayasara

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without the express permission of the author, Shay Savage —except in the case of brief excerpts or quotations embodied in review or critical writings.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover design by Jada D'Lee Designs

  Table of Contents

  A Note About Rope

  Chapter 1—Rocco

  Chapter 2—Casey

  Chapter 3—Rocco

  Chapter 4—Casey

  Chapter 5—Rocco

  Chapter 6—Casey

  Chapter 7—Rocco

  Chapter 8—Casey

  Chapter 9—Rocco

  Chapter 10—Casey

  Chapter 11—Rocco

  Chapter 12—Casey

  Epilogue—Ivan

  Author’s Note

  More Books by Shay Savage

  Kindle Unlimited—Read for Free!

  About the Author

  A Note About Rope

  This story contains rope bondage used for both relaxation and sexual play. Rope can be a lot of fun, but it is potentially dangerous. Please do some research before you decide to try it out with your partner! At the end of the book, you can find some reference links that will lead you to some great resources to explore.

  Enjoy!

  Shay Savage

  Chapter 1—Rocco

  “Time to move, Rocco.”

  For the third time, Cree’s voice breaks through the barrier of blankets wrapped around me. My brain is in a not-quite-asleep fog, and I don’t want to move. At the same time, I know I should make the effort, open my eyes, and fake having my shit together for another day. I take a deep breath and push my head through the opening at the top and blink a few times.

  Cree is on the other side of my single-occupancy dorm room, pouring water into the coffee machine. I blink a few times, watching him get the coffee brewing. He pulls open the blackout curtain, and daylight floods the room. I duck back beneath the covers.

  “None of that now,” Cree says. His tone is authoritative but not unkind. “Get your ass up.”

  I sigh as I turn my head slightly, letting the blanket fall from my face. The sunlight is a bit much for my eyes, and I reach up to rub the sleep from them.

  “If you don’t get moving,” Cree says, “you’ll be late meeting with Casey.”

  Casey. The thought of her pale face rimmed with black hair causes me to grimace but not from distaste. I don’t know how I feel about her or her request to spend time with me. She wants to play with rope—she’s made that clear. I just don’t understand why.

  “Do you want to back out?” Cree moves to the edge of the bed, speaking softly. “I can call her and say it’s not going to work out. This is your decision.”

  The word “decision” rolls around in my head. I swallow hard.

  “Do you think I should?”

  “That’s not my call, Roc.”

  I rub my eyes again. A throb in my right temple matches my heartbeat, thrumming out the words: “Make a choice. Make a choice. Make a choice.”

  Decisions are hard. Technically, I’ve already agreed to talk to her about whatever it is she wants, but I know I can choose to back out if I want to. Want. Desire. Choice. All these decisions. They just make my head pound more. Easier to just go with it.

  “I’ll meet with her.”

  “Then move.”

  I push myself to a sitting position on the bed. The blankets are still tightly wrapped around me in a warm, safe cocoon. The idea of leaving my quiet little nest of fabric is unsettling. It’s time consuming. It’s easier to just lie back down.

  Sometimes, moving is really, really difficult.

  I’ve been told a thousand times by a dozen therapists what I should do to keep myself positive. They’ve always been right. For a brief time, forcing myself to go to the gym every morning really did improve my overall mood. It got me out and around people, which is never easy, and made it a lot more likely that I’d make it to my classes. Knowing what I should do and actually forcing myself to do it aren’t the same thing.

  Transitions are the problem. Even thinking about change brings a heavy, sleepy feeling to my limbs. Remaining static is easy. Adjustments—even small ones—set me on edge. It’s easier to stay where I am, how I am, what I am. Stay in bed; stay in my small, cramped dorm room; stay in my head. Maneuvering myself from one state to the next is the most difficult thing in the world, and I have to consciously force myself to do it each and every time.

  Cree reaches out, and I work my arm out of the blankets to take his hand. He pulls me around so I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, and some of the blankets fall away.

  “Have you eaten today?”

  “No.”

  “We can grab bagels on the way back to my place.”

  “The steamed ones?”

  “Of course.”

  “I can buy this time,” I say, nodding toward the wallet on the nightstand. “I got my check last Friday.”

  “I’ll take you up on that!” Cree tilts his head to one side. “How do you feel about Kas joining us?”

  Kas. Cree’s new lady friend. I met her over the weekend at the Power Exchange dungeon. I like that Cree seems happy with her, but I have the feeling she’ll be cutting into my rope time with him.

  “For bagels?”

  “Yeah. She’s actually in the next building right now, finishing up her last class of the day. She just texted me. Class is over in about fifteen minutes.”

  Eating with someone means I can avoid conversation by having food in my mouth, but it also means some conversation is expected, and talking to people is draining. Every sentence is a change. My arms feel heavy at the thought, and I wonder if I’ll even be able to lift a bagel to my mouth. Images of myself sitting at one of the tables outside the bagel shop, unable to eat because I can’t lift a small, round sandwich course through my head, and I don’t know if I should laugh or cry.

  “No pressure, Roc. It just seems like you got along with her last weekend.”

  “Yeah, she’s okay.” I don’t talk about my trepidation. Cree already knows, but he also likes hearing me voice my consent. “I don’t mind.”

  “Shall I have her meet us outside?”

  “I need a shower.”

  “You want her to come here?”

  “Here? In my room?” A woman in my little dorm room. That would be a new one. What would she think?

  “Well, yeah. Only if you’re okay with it.”

  “You’re the only one who’s been in here.”

  “Do you want to keep it that way?” Cree asks.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Move forward.”

  I glance at him. His words aren’t a command or a request but more of a suggestion. I know he doesn’t mean the position of my body, either, but rather a more general sense of moving forward in life, but I’m not ready for this kind of move.

  “No.”

  “Okay.” He gives me a lopsided smile. “I’ll tell her to wait for us outside.”

  Cree is a good guy, and he’s going to make a great therapist someday. This new girl of his seems pretty nice as well. Though she’s still a stranger to me, I don’t feel that sense of judgmen
t I usually get from people, and I wonder just what Cree has told her.

  I glance at him as my chest tightens; then I immediately relax. Cree has always kept my past to himself, and I don’t think he’d be any different just because he’s getting laid.

  “Can we tie first?” I ask. “Just a little?”

  “All right with me,” Cree says. “Not for long, though, and for the love of God, shower first. Please.”

  He laughs, and I smile slightly.

  “Okay.”

  By the time I’m finished with my shower, Cree has his rope out and is ready to go. I kneel on the floor in the middle of the room, and within a couple of minutes, he has me wrapped in ropes. It’s not as much as I might want to have, but it’s enough. It’s enough to get me there.

  Subspace.

  This is it. This is the feeling I crave. This floaty, warm, mind-numbing, silent, ambivalent, senseless sensation of being nothing…of letting go…of being in a world where nothing can get to me. Nothing can reach me; nothing can cause me pain. This is the only time I feel at peace.

  And it is far too brief.

  Cree’s voice brings me out of my silent escape. He’s already started to untie me, and I feel the deep sense of loss as he tells me we have to leave.

  I’m still numb as I dress and follow Cree out into the quad where Kas is waiting. She smiles and greets us, but I don’t respond. I have no voice. Kas doesn’t seem to mind, and I follow them both to the bagel shop where I eat in continued silence.

  Kas talks about her class. Cree asks questions. I hear nothing but the buzz of their voices. I take a bite of my bagel as I reach up with my free hand and run my fingers over the rope marks on my arm.

  Kas smiles at me as she gathers up our trash and deposits it in the bin. I glance at Cree as we head back to his place, and Kas walks along with us. He sees my distress and informs me that Kas is going to study in his room while we meet with Casey.

  “We’re going out afterward,” he says.

  “Is that okay?” Kas asks me.

  I think about it for a minute. Kas hadn’t been a part of my mental image of this meeting, and changes make me uncomfortable. Then again, she won’t actually be in the same room, so I only have to adjust my thinking for the walk to Cree’s apartment and not the meeting itself. I take a deep breath and nod.

  “Rocco?” Cree tilts his head to look at me, and I know he wants a verbal answer.

  “She’ll be in your room?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where’s Quinn?”

  “He’s got lab until four o’clock.”

  “It’s okay,” I say after a deep breath.

  As soon as we get through the door of Cree’s apartment, Kas gives him a quick kiss and then disappears into the back room. Cree sits on the small couch, and I drop down on the floor near the chair.

  I don’t like to sit on furniture. The act of sitting on soft cushions feels strange to my body, as if they’re trying to suck me in, so I prefer the floor. My bed is the sole exception, and that’s only because it’s a super-firm mattress.

  “So what do you think of all of this?” Cree asks.

  “All of what?”

  “Casey wanting to tie with you.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you like her?”

  “I don’t know her. I like being tied, and I know I can’t rely on you being there all the time. Maybe I should have someone else available, too, especially…”

  “Especially what?”

  I don’t want to answer him. Kas seems nice, and it’s clear Cree would rather be spending time with her, not me. Who could blame him for that?

  “Rocco?”

  “I just…I know you don’t have that much extra time.”

  “Are you saying that because of Kas?”

  I shrug.

  “Rocco, I don’t want you to agree to rope play with Casey just because you’re afraid I won’t have time for you anymore. I’ll make time. Just because I have a girlfriend now doesn’t mean I’m leaving you on your own. I wouldn’t do that.”

  Girlfriend. I don’t understand the concept. A girl. A friend. Put the two together, and the meaning changes completely, but why? Just because you’ve seen each other naked? Cree has seen me naked. Does that make him my boyfriend?

  No. Definitely not.

  I might not have ever been on a date, but I know when I think about the concept, it’s always with a woman.

  “You know, having her tie you isn’t going to be like it is with me.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No, it’s not.” Cree chuckles. “I’m pretty sure she wants more than just tying.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, she wants to fuck you, Roc.”

  “She does?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t answer that one, buddy.” Cree laughs loudly. “You’d have to ask her that question yourself. She’s coming up the walk now.”

  I wrap my arms around myself as my heart begins to beat faster. As Cree answers the door, I’m sure this is a mistake. He can’t be right about her motivations. No girl has ever looked at me and said, “That’s the guy I want to have sex with.” I’m not muscular like Ivan, and I’m not attractive like Cree. I’m not outgoing or even remotely social. Cree must be mistaken.

  Cree jumps up and opens the door. Casey drops a heavy black bookbag next to the coatrack, and I feel the vibration in the floor beneath me. I stare at the bag, wondering what’s inside that makes it so heavy.

  “Hey, Rocco.”

  I glance up at her face, knowing I’m supposed to respond. Cree’s words are still mulling around in my head, and I can’t believe he’s right about her intentions. Those thoughts consume me, and I neglect to answer her at all, and she frowns thoughtfully.

  I’ve certainly seen Casey around before, both on campus and at Gym, but I haven’t paid any more attention to her than I do anyone else. Now I look her over, trying to understand why in the world she wants to tie me.

  She’s wearing a black tank top, which shows the multitude of tattoos on her arms, black jeans, and black, lace-up boots that reach halfway up her calf. Her hair is black. She has black makeup around her eyes and wears jewelry that is silver and black.

  She likes black.

  Cree leads her over to the couch, and she sits facing me. Cree leans against the wall, watching me closely. I drop my gaze to the floor and end up staring at Casey’s boots. They’re black leather with silver brackets holding the laces. The laces flow in beautiful crisscross patterns, and I follow the strands up and down with my eyes. Casey starts talking, and I hear Cree answer her a couple of times, but I’m too focused on the laces of her boots to listen.

  Even with my focus on her laces, I see Casey moving her hands a lot as she talks, and each time, her bracelets clatter together. The chiming sound reminds me of something, but I can’t quite place my finger on it.

  “Rocco?” Cree’s voice brings me out of my shoelace inspired trance.

  “Huh?”

  “Casey asked you a question, bro.”

  “Oh.” I glance up to her face but keep my focus on her mouth instead of her eyes. “Sorry.”

  “I was asking if you want to give it a try.”

  “Give what a try?”

  She frowns again, and Cree sighs heavily.

  “Better start over,” he says. “Rocco, listen up.”

  I feel my neck heat up as I nod.

  “I’ve been practicing tying for a while now,” Casey says. “I’m nowhere near Cree’s level, but I think I’m getting to be a pretty good rigger. I’ve taken most of the classes and gone to the SIGs at Gym.”

  I look up at her, still waiting for that slight increase in pitch that indicates a question.

  “Cree? I’m pretty good, aren’t I?”

  I glance at Cree.

  “Yeah, you’re getting there. I wouldn’t want you suspending anyone without some supervision yet, but you’re
good with floor work, and Rocco prefers that anyway.”

  I look back and forth between Casey and Cree. I’m supposed to answer a question. What’s the question?

  “Rocco? Will you let me tie you?”

  Oh, yeah. That.

  My throat constricts, and I can barely breathe.

  Chapter 2—Casey

  My body is beginning to ache with the exertion of keeping myself still as I wait for Rocco to respond. If I were to relax even a little, I’m sure I would begin to shake.

  I don’t take rejection easily—never have. Cree warned me to be careful with Rocco, as if I didn’t know he has some issues. I do know. I don’t understand the details, but I know he’s a mess. I’m quite familiar with being a mess, so that doesn’t deter me in the slightest. I want this. I really, really want it, and I have no idea how I’m going to react if he says no.

  For a brief moment, I reflect on the first time I saw Rocco.

  It was at the end of last semester. I’d been on hiatus from the dungeon for over a year as I tried to fulfill the Domme half of an intense, power exchange relationship. Despite his natural submissiveness, Justin had been a forceful and demanding partner. Nothing I ever did was enough for him, and it began to wear on me as well as affect my studies. I had been a regular dungeon girl before Justin, but he wanted nothing to do with that crowd.

  Rocco was already at Gym when I came in, but I didn’t notice him until later. Cree had him in a back corner, away from everyone else. At first, I only noticed a ball of flesh and rope on the floor. When they finished, and Rocco stood up, I saw a tall guy with a gorgeous, lanky form, silky, long hair braided behind his neck, and the most intensely sad eyes I had ever seen. I wanted him instantly even before I noticed the bulge beneath the tight shorts he was wearing.

  A very significant bulge.

  I watched him for weeks, both in and out of the dungeon. Aside from his relationship with Cree, I never saw him with anyone else. I also never saw him engage in any kind of play other than rope, and I knew nothing about rope at the time.

  So I learned.

  The learning curve for rope work, shibari in particular, is a steep one. The basics come pretty quickly, but the intuition behind the skills of someone like Cree isn’t something I could just pick up by figuring out which knots went where on a Take-Kote harness. Cree has finesse. Cree has charisma. Cree has a line of rope bottoms begging to have him tie them up.