Bodhi

by A. R. Hadley

  “Pants off. Remove your shirt. Lean over the foot of the bed, facedown, and present yourself to us.”

  When Peyton returned with a cane, Audrey winced, but Peyton smirked. “Count, slave.”

  “One, two…” Gavin began as Audrey breathed through the lashes, feeling each strike as though her own. “…thirteen.”

  “Do you know what thirteen symbolizes in the Bible?” Peyton looked at Audrey. She looked at Gavin.

  “Answer me, Audrey.”

  “My Master told me not to speak.”

  “Gavin,” he said, kicking his legs further apart. The stripes were so red, they appeared raw and bleeding. “Some people think it represents rebellion and lawlessness. Tell her what you think.”

  Peyton lubed Gavin’s hole while he spoke. Audrey began to croak.

  “Mysticism is condemned by God,” Gavin said as tears filled Audrey’s eyes.

  But wasn’t sodomy condemned too?

  “Why the number then?” Peyton asked, the pleasure of what was about to happen apparent in his voice.

  “It’s always thirteen,” Gavin replied.

  Peyton dropped to his knees, bored his eyes into Audrey’s, and mouthed the word stop. Only she could see his lips move.

  Then she realized … Peyton broke scene.

  It was a scene.

  Shhh…

  She needed to pull herself together.

  A scene. A scene. A scene. Still, her Master — Rabboni? — was about to be fucked in the ass by another man, another Dominant, by a friend.

  By a man he loved…

  Oh God, it was all too much.

  Trust, Peyton mouthed and gave her a signal — his hand splicing through the air. Stop, he mouthed again. She knew she must’ve looked a wreck, fearful. Her thighs were quaking, and her bottom lip was being gnawed off by her teeth.

  “On all fours,” he said, indicating the floor, and Gavin obeyed.

  Peyton entered him in one single movement, and she heard Gavin grunt, saw his head drop, but she couldn’t see his eyes, nor Peyton’s now.

  “What’s thirteen, Gavin?” Peyton asked on a thrust. “Explain.”

  Gavin grunted louder. Peyton drove in, then pulled all the way out. Drove in again.

  “Tell us.”

  “It’s a blessing,” Gavin blurted as his breath shook. Peyton pulled out. He drove in. “A promise.” He sounded both pained and fulfilled, complete.

  “Audrey,” he continued, his voice breaking on the syllables in her name, and then she cried too, quietly, a hand over her mouth, tears falling. “We take what the world calls ugly and defiled and make it beautiful and righteous.”

  Peyton grabbed his friend’s hips and fucked him without courtesy. Rougher than Audrey had ever witnessed between two men firsthand. Gavin braced himself, a palm on the wall, meeting the pain and the blessing and the promise with his own backward thrusts.

  Several minutes later, sweat dripping off Peyton, he grunted his release into Gavin, then collapsed against him. After waiting a moment in silence, both men slumped forward and heaved. Peyton rolled Gavin onto his back.

  Audrey could see Gavin’s eyes now. They were wide, full of haze, and ready to be climbed into. His starry sky pulled her closer to his heavens even though she remained glued to the floor, her knees spread, tears falling and pussy throbbing.

  “Watch her,” Peyton growled as he stroked Gavin’s cock. Fast, then faster, then even faster. “Watch your little slave.”

  Gavin’s eyes filled with tears. Both Audrey and Gavin cried and choked, and then Gavin came in spurts, his head falling back toward the ground, as he openly sobbed.

  Peyton wiped Gavin’s forehead, quieted him, reminded him they were safe, then he commanded Audrey to come to them.

  “Lick his seed off his body,” Peyton said and then went into the bathroom.

  Audrey cleaned every inch of Gavin’s stomach, inside his belly button and across the hairs of his chest as her tears fell onto his skin. And she licked those too while he fingered her braid, saying nothing.

  Peyton returned with water, both to offer drink and to wash. He wiped them both. Audrey’s face, her mouth and cheeks, under her eyes. Gavin’s chest, face, then his back. Then the two of them, Audrey and Peyton, shared in the job of applying compresses to Gavin’s backside and then cream.

  The salve had barely dried before Gavin rose, positioned Audrey near the foot of the bed and on Peyton’s lap, and began to fuck her with a vigor she feared and craved. Peyton held her backside against his chest and spread her open because he could and because Gavin had given him permission to touch his “little slave.” Peyton held her wrists behind her back and one of her thighs out while they watched Gavin regain every bit of strength he’d surrendered.

  It was starting to burn. Her cunt. Her eyes. Lines were so blurred she thought maybe they’d never been invented.

  “You fucking animal,” Peyton hissed, and Audrey imagined the men’s eyes meeting in some sort of deep understanding. “You own her.” Peyton urged Gavin on when Audrey knew he needed no encouragement. “You fucking own her cunt.” Peyton spoke as though he were doing the fucking while he rubbed Audrey’s clit, making her involuntarily come while Gavin kept on driving inside her without stopping. As sweat dripped from Gavin’s forehead, Peyton smeared it over Audrey’s chest, applied kisses to her neck, nibbled her skin.

  “You don’t even know how alive you are right now.” Peyton’s voice cracked.

  Audrey was certain their eyes remained lock. Gavin’s gaze was like a laser beam, blue and wet, and it wasn’t on her browns.

  “I want her. This,” Peyton continued. “All four of us, man.”

  Audrey couldn’t speak. Even though she was the center of all they did, it was as though they didn’t need her there, but they did.

  “Make her come again,” Gavin growled, barely breaking his rhythm. “Feel. Us. Together. Touch her cunt and my dick.”

  Audrey cried out when Peyton went to work again on her clit, massaging it until it burned and burned and burned, and she screamed as he squished a finger into her body alongside Gavin’s dick.

  Alternating between panting and moaning, she came so hard around Gavin’s cock and Peyton’s finger it seemed Gavin could no longer hold back his own orgasm.

  The second he pulled out, Gavin spilled across her folds, her clit, her hole, her lower stomach, and then Peyton rubbed the semen over her skin, slid his fingers toward her seam, and slipped three fingers inside her warmth, finger fucking her while the two men’s eyes met over her shoulder in a fog of lust.

  But the third orgasm wouldn’t build. She had nothing left. Her heart had cracked open.

  She’d finally broken.

  “No, no, no … king,” she said, wrenching herself from their grasp. “King!” she screamed, and Peyton removed his fingers.

  Audrey took off to the bathroom and started the shower, and even though the hot water scalded her, she shook uncontrollably as though she were freezing.

  “Take it off. Take it off,” she cried the moment Gavin entered the shower, repeating the words as though bugs crawled across her skin.

  “I forgive you,” he said, a hand wrapped around her waist, breathing against her neck.

  “Take it off!” she screamed.

  He put a hand on the tile by her face. “This is play, Audrey. I toy with you. It’s a game.”

  “Stop. Stop telling me that. It’s all real. This is real.”

  “This is what it’s like to truly break. Let me put you back together. I forgive you.”

  “The line blurs,” Audrey said, weeping. “I never know where you end, and Master begins.”

  “I need Peyton. He breaks me. You don't think there have been times when I felt like I’m a sick fuck? My own son won't speak to me, Audrey.”

  “Then just stop all this. Change.” Those words were impudent, but she said them anyhow.

  “I could no more give this up than I could cease to be a man.”

 
; “I'm tired, Gavin…” she said, pausing only to choke back the hyperventilating sounds. “The two of us are coasting on a high we can’t sustain. You broke all your own rules with me.”

  “I fell in love with you.”

  “You love him too.”

  “Yes. He knows how to play the game. You’re still on the outside looking in. Remember? Two feet. One in, one out. I won't chase you back to domesticity, Audrey. I'm not the hero in a romance novel.” He lifted the key from the chain he wore around his neck and unlocked and removed the collar, and then he kissed her on the nape of her neck and placed the necklace in her palm.

  “You were always mine,” he said and gave her braid three quick tugs.

  “Gavin,” she cried.

  “I'm going to step out and dress, and then I’m leaving the room. Don't come to me tonight unless you plan on staying. Until you're ready to give me both feet.”

  27

  Audrey stood in front of one of the windows, drunk on adrenaline and sick to her stomach from the courage it had taken to show up at Bodhi tonight — free Saturday night, but wasn’t every night about freedom? — thinking she could blend into the crowd wearing a black cotton dress. It had drop shoulders and holes, gaping Os in the material at her biceps, her waist, her back.

  A scene had been happening for some time now. She could feel the dampness between her legs — not in her panties, because she hadn’t worn any.

  This was it, wasn’t it?

  The bottom.

  The addict who returned for a fix.

  Without her Master to guide her, she felt lost, mostly sick to her stomach, but lost nonetheless.

  People crammed in like cattle at the three conjoining windows, fogging the glass, men’s dicks stretching their pants, women with hands cupping their wanton triangles.

  And tied around Audrey’s bicep was a ribbon. A white one.

  She could’ve sworn Gavin kept the AC turned up on purpose. The sadistic son of a bitch wanted people to sweat. He always enjoyed dripping salt onto her face, her breasts. He used to enjoy licking every inch of perspiration from her exhausted, sated body.

  Her thighs clenched.

  The woman behind the glass sat on her knees, a spreader bar at her shins, keeping her legs wide open and apart. Another bar was fastened behind her biceps while her hands, lying against her supple ass, were clasped. Blood-red pumps and lipstick were the only other things the woman wore. Her tits jutted out, and her nipples were dark, pointing forward. Pretty little peaks made for damaging, taunting, and sucking. Her tangerine-sized breasts were repeatedly being slapped, tweaked, and manipulated by two different people assisting the Dominant.

  The luxury on the woman’s face made Audrey envious, made her pussy balloon. The pure ecstasy and pain etched on the bitch’s face gave Audrey hope she wouldn’t leave here tonight without getting what she came for.

  What had she come for?

  A quick fix? Or something she needed for the rest of her life?

  “What do you like?” a man with a throaty voice asked. He stood next to her, but she hadn’t really noticed him. He had a tent in his pants like all the others, though. It was hard not to take note of that. Hard. Funny, Audrey had made a play on words.

  She cleared her throat. “Pardon?”

  “What do you like?” he repeated, tipping his head in the direction of the foursome. One of the helpers, another sub, had his cock sliding in and out of her mouth now. Drool spilled from the corners and down her chin. Orders came from the Dom — no one could hear, but his lips moved — who held her head. And a woman, presumably the third submissive, continued to care for the pretty little breasts beginning to turn a shade of grayish-blue.

  “All of it,” she whispered.

  She caught the stranger sneaking a look at her unbruised back, the dress revealing everything to him but her heart.

  “You’re pure. White as snow.” He flicked his gaze from her skin to the scene. “I can remedy that for you. Tonight, if you’d like. I can find out if another room is open.”

  “I believe room three is open,” Gavin said, and he was behind her now, boxing her in so she couldn’t move. With his left hand above and beside her head and his front so close to her back, his presence burned her skin like heat from a thousand suns.

  She couldn’t move.

  Had nowhere to go.

  She sagged against the window, and Gavin waited until she righted herself. Fucking bastard wouldn’t touch her. Not with his hands. His icy gaze and sardonic words had already cut a deep wound within her soul. She was sure weeks hadn’t passed since she’d been near him. Because he felt like home. But he wasn’t home. Her body just liked to play tricks with her mind. Pretend she could have both worlds. That she didn’t have to choose between this life and the other.

  “Would you like me to escort you to room three?” Gavin asked, his lips at her ear.

  “Please,” the man said, his eyes fixated on the woman being fucked in the face by the helper, slapped and tickled with a flogger by the Dom, and held steady by the third assistant who made sure to fondle and pinch the submissive’s greedy little clit.

  The Master behind the glass was taking care of what he owned.

  Was that why she’d come to Bodhi after weeks of avoiding him?

  “Why did you come here tonight?” Gavin flicked the white ribbon on her bicep. The color indicated she was looking for a Dom.

  “I missed it,” she exhaled, and then he lifted the back of her skirt, causing her to gasp.

  “You missed this. You like having your cunt exposed to anyone”—he gave his curt gaze to the man who stood on her right—“who passes by?”

  Gavin grabbed her hair, yanking it hard until her forehead faced the ceiling and her eyes watered. “You want him to bruise this?”

  Him, him, him. Audrey knew who Gavin meant by him…

  “Do you love him?” Gavin had asked many weeks ago, before she’d safed-out and left him, a night he’d pinned her against the wall with her legs around his waist, his dick in her cunt. She was already breathless from the caning he’d administered and now the pounding. They were in his private room. The dungeon was empty.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d referred to himself in the third person, and despite the endorphins mounting — his cock buried balls-deep inside the door to her home she always left open for him — she finally understood why he said it.

  Like a snake on the prowl, his hand slithered up her chest until he came to a stop at her throat. He clutched it, her collar, her breath, keeping his thumb in the dip.

  “Do you love him?” He thrust each word into her body.

  “Yes,” she spluttered. “I do.”

  He filled her mouth with his fingers, causing her to retch. Drool pooled and spilled as he continued to pummel her as though she were a mere feather pressed into the drywall. Fucking her like an animal on a mission.

  “So beautiful,” he said, his voice sounding pained. “Being gagged. Being used. Being fucked. It's beautiful.”

  Eyelids fluttering, kidneys filling with liquid adrenaline, toes bending, she exploded, then became boneless. Only two things kept her upright: her owner and the unforgivable wall.

  Gavin continued to fuck her straight through her orgasm, not stopping for her sensitivities, not stopping for her to catch her breath. Sweat rained where they joined, causing them to slip and slide against one another. His jerks became more precise, slowing down, hitting her womb with each entry.

  “You think you come here to be made dirty, but you come here to be made clean,” he said, and their eyes met. What she saw was too much and so much, and she wanted all of it. “He makes you clean.”

  “Gavin…” she said, clawing at his backside. Something he’d only recently begun to allow her to do. Dampness covered him there too.

  “Clean,” he growled. “His cum makes you clean. He makes you clean,” he repeated, grunted, and then he filled Audrey up with his purity.

  “Do you love him?” he
asked with a note of panic in his voice.

  He grabbed her face while remaining inside her. His hands cradled her jaw, and Audrey nodded, sobbing without sound. And then he kissed her as hard as he’d fucked her. Bit her. Bruised her. She didn't think he knew how to kiss any other way. And she didn't want him to learn.

  Reaching down, he pinched her clit, rubbed it, flicked it until she screamed and bucked. “Call my name when you come. Not sir. My name. Him.”

  “Gavin,” she cried.

  “Yes.” He flicked, then pinched her, his semi-hard shaft still filling her up. “Come again.”

  “Gavin, Gavin…” She squeezed his hips with her thighs. “I love him.” And she released for the second time, but not the last, that night.

  “Please,” Audrey replied to Gavin’s question from where they now stood in front of the dungeon window, her ass exposed to anyone who wanted a look. The pliable stranger hadn’t moved.

  “Get on your knees, Audrey.” Gavin dropped the hem of her dress.

  “You two have played?” the stranger asked.

  “Take out your dick,” Gavin said to him in reply.

  The man didn’t need to be asked twice. Gavin had given an order. An edict. He was the CEO. The Master of this dungeon.

  The stranger had his dick out and his hand wrapped around it, his face communicating his allowance of practically anything: a finger in his ass, stripes painted across his skin, humiliation beyond his wildest dreams — maybe he would even bleed. Audrey knew those things to be true because that was how she felt too.

  “Don’t touch her until I give you permission.” Gavin grabbed the man by his base and placed the head of his prick at the edge of Audrey’s mouth.

  Gavin’s own zipper strained. Audrey could smell her Master. His scent brought it all back. The way smells usually did. It wasn’t just the smell of his sex. It was him. The cedar, the leather, the shadows. It was him.

  Him, him, him, him, him.

  God, missing him had morphed into denial, and now the overwhelming onslaught to her senses attempted to usurp it. She’d grown comfortable in the last several weeks, mistakenly thinking she could live without submission and dominance.