The Fix (Nightlong Series Book 2)

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

  “But what do you like the best?” he asked, wanting to score Brownie points tonight, if only to gain some sort of intellectual regard from her.

  It seemed crazy she was giving him – a novice – freedom to do what he wanted, but at the same time he decided she knew what she was doing and therefore that meant he was safe and protected from any mishaps. Unlike him, she was experienced. Well, he hoped so anyway. All he had was her word because nobody inside Pernox talked or gossiped about Shay; so he only had their own, intimate private conversations to judge her on, but she seemed sound of mind and experienced… she seemed…

  She snapped her fingers, bringing him back to the moment.

  He was nervous as hell.

  “Red, amber, green?” she asked.

  “Amber… ish,” he admitted.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m afraid I won’t please you, or that you’ll see how foolishly inexperienced I am… and we won’t get these chances to talk on Saturday nights anymore. That we won’t, you know… continue to make Teddy furiously jealous.”

  She chuckled mirthlessly, no light in her eyes, just a fake chuckle which scared him to death. In the same instance, she seemed to re-right her face into a softer expression, the weirdo gone.

  He tried to shake off a sinking feeling.

  “No sex, remember?”

  “I remember.”

  “Okay,” she said, and began stripping naked.

  Shay unzipped her riding boots, slipping them off. She unbuttoned her jodhpurs and her blouse, leaving herself in just a matching lace bra and high-leg thong.

  She was petite, but pretty, with tiny breasts and dainty musculature which showed she was strong despite her small size. In awe of her muscled legs, he asked, “Is that from riding?”

  “You could say that.”

  He watched her climb up onto the velvet-covered slab which had to be uncomfortable to lie on. In fact he knew it was, because he’d lain on the same thing dozens of times over! It was one of the many and various humiliations the men visiting Pernox happily endured.

  Sacrificial offerings, the men of Pernox gave away their control while down in the dungeon, and left feeling better about everything after having their minds completely occupied by euphoric pain for an hour or two.

  “I’m ready,” she said, on her back, ready for him to begin.

  “First thing’s first, I don’t feel comfortable like this.”

  He removed his robe and peeled it back to reveal just his black slippers and white boxers beneath. She glanced at his groin and muttered, “You are a big boy. That wasn’t a lie.”

  “I don’t lie. What’s the point?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know…”

  He was slightly aroused but not nearly fully and even soft, his shape showed through his boxers most days, because most days he wore white. He liked cleanness, therefore he liked white shirts, white underwear… white panties on a woman, though he could never imagine Shay wearing white anything. Her blouses, black. Even her polo shirts were dark or blue. The only thing she ever wore white was the white riding crop she always carried about her person.

  “Why is your riding crop white?” he asked, looking down on her.

  He noticed her pink nipples through the gauze of her bra and licked his lips, imagining how they might taste. Many women’s nipples tasted of shower gel or soap, but he liked the natural taste of a woman’s skin… more earthy. More natural.

  “Most are black or dark-brown. It’s the one thing I want to be different.”

  “Your weapon?”

  She smiled, not offended. “I could’ve had red too, but white means something to me. Only people who are really kinky know what it means.”

  “Closet submissive,” he guessed.

  “Sure you’re not kinky?” she asked, with a wink.

  “I’m definitely not submissive, I know that.”

  “That’s very true.” She laughed, but for real this time, her fingers resting casually on the necklace around her neck as she chuckled. Perhaps it was a moment of unguarded happiness and covering the pendant round her neck meant something… he didn’t know.

  “Let’s start by tying you up then?”

  “Yes,” she said, and she wriggled around, the thought of being tied up obviously arousing.

  He produced a set of wrist and ankle cuffs, all in red leather. Buckling the small straps on each one, he then fed appropriate-sized chains through the metal loops on her wrist cuffs and attached the chains to hooks drilled into the head of the stone slab. He did the same with the ankles, securing her tight to the foot of the slab too. She still had a certain amount of manoeuvrability, but no way could she escape the bed.

  “Thank you, sir,” she said, immediately falling into a character he had never met before, one servile and soft, her voice gentle.

  She lay inert and at peace, not jiggling her bonds whatsoever. Calm and collected, her pupils remained normal, her breathing level.

  The biggest revelation so far, however… was that he loved being called sir. His cock liked it even more, now sat tip-up inside his boxer shorts.

  “You said you liked the wax?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  With his back to her, he walked up to where the candles burned on one of the wooden shelves erected into the crude walls. Then as a test, he poured a little on the back of his hand. It stung like hell, but a moment later he peeled the cold wax off and all that remained was a slightly red strain on his skin, the pain tapering off immediately.

  “Where’s a good place to start?”

  She looked up at him. “Sir, the point is, I’m in bondage, so you make the decisions. I don’t want to be in charge, not tonight. I want to be free.”

  “Okay.”

  Nervous, he decided a good place to start was on her leg where the muscle was thickest, where the skin was toughest. He dribbled a bit of wax onto one of her quads and her muscles rippled with pleasure. The red wax cooled into a splodge decorating her tanned skin. She sighed and thanked him. “More sir, please.”

  Spreading her legs, she offered him her softer inner thigh and he took the hint.

  “Ah, ah,” she gasped, the wax hitting such thin, delicate skin.

  Panting, her eyes opened and closed and she seemed to relax enough to leave her legs splayed wide open, revealing the smooth skin of a woman regularly waxed down below.

  Dante couldn’t see anything beneath the thick black gusset of her lace thong, but he could smell her arousal, softly diffusing into the air around them.

  It was obvious pain made her horny. Her body had flushed red since he’d stained it, and her belly bore a slight sweat, plus her pussy smelt fabulous – definitely musty, absolutely wet.

  “More?”

  “Please, sir.”

  “I’m hard and I’m going to get harder, the more you get wetter.”

  “I’m going to come if you’re not careful. I said no intercourse, but I didn’t say no orgasms.”

  Thrilled by her words, he put one hand inside his boxers, wrapping it around his shaft. With the other hand, he aimed for her ankle, dribbling some more wax there.

  His cock solid and hot, he was ready to come already.

  He was always ready, a young man with a high libido and no full-time job except wanking… this was his paradise.

  “Somewhere even more dangerous,” she whispered, her eyes closed, her pleasure clear to see as her chest rose and fell, as she clung to the chains fastened against her like they were her only security in the world.

  “Here?” he asked, pressing a finger against the soft dip at the bottom of her throat. This part of her was particularly pronounced and lovely, given her small frame and daintiness.

  “Yes,” she sighed.

  He stained another sensitive area of her body and she cried out in both pleasure and pain, the surrounding area of skin showing redness too.

  “Here?” he asked, touching her nipple.

  “GOD!”

  He sp
ilt wax on her lace bra but knew it would hurt the skin beneath. She screamed and wriggled her hips side to side, thrusting them in the air as if in serious need of a cock inside her.

  He finally looked between her legs and asked, “Your clit, Shay?”

  “Yes,” she said, not opening her eyes, not yet.

  He poured a generous dollop on her clit and she threw her hips into the air, throwing them over and over, almost performing the crab as her hands and feet gave her balance to move her midsection, the only part of her body really free to move. He watched with utmost fascination as she came and at the same time, his balls tightened and his thighs grew hot as did his pelvis… and from his anus to his gut, he felt euphoria flood his body until it entered the head of his penis and erupted down his hand, inside his boxers, the release intense as he saw Shay wriggle and roll around with nothing but exultation in her murmurs and smiles. In a world of her own, her eyes still shut, she seemed oblivious of his own orgasm.

  He’d given her pleasure and to watch it had given him a sort of pleasure he had never experienced before – and he’d now had over 500 women in his short lifetime. Just a small amount of hot wax had made her mimic sex moves and – had made her come off the charts. He saw the moisture smeared around the edges of her panties and knew she really had come – screaming in fact.

  He wanted to take a little kiss from her, maybe even smell her hair, but when she opened her eyes she said, “Thank you, sir. I’m most satisfied.”

  Her eyes cold again, he took that as a hint she was ready to be released and he unbuckled her, setting her free.

  She threw her clothes back on and led him up into the spa house.

  It all seemed… too easy.

  Surely… just the wax alone wasn’t enough?

  In the drawing room, they shared a drink in silence because he didn’t know if speaking was something they even needed to do, not after what they’d just experienced together.

  He wanted to speak, and to reflect on the experience, but would she think him a fool if he told her how shockingly aroused it had made him, too? How being in control and being in charge – had made him instantly hard. Seeing her like that… it had raged out of him harder and faster than ever before. A massive amount of semen still had his cock stuck to the inside of his boxers, even many minutes afterwards. It was like he was still dribbling the aftermath out of his body and he needed to complement this by allowing his mind to release, too.

  “You enjoyed yourself then?” he asked, because the answer to that was all he wanted to know.

  “I got what I wanted,” she said, then rose to her feet and left the room.

  Instead of begging to join her in bed, whimpering like a pup, he walked back down to the dungeon and out of the male exit. He got to the hut and into his car, took out a Hamlet cigar and started puffing away on it as the sunrise began to change the sky from black ink to violet.

  Sitting back against his headrest, he shut his eyes, slowly enjoying his cigar. His mind wandered to the scene in the dungeon and he imagined Shay’s hot pussy thrusting onto his cock like she’d thrust her hips into the air tonight. He imagined her so tight and wet, trembling with every stroke, her body mastering his even as she was tied up. She owned his cock as she pushed up and at him hard, sat on his knees, giving her free access to use him as she pleased.

  Dante opened his trousers and lazily grabbed the head of his cock, massaging and stroking, tugging himself gently. In his mind, he made her taste the scent of herself on his cock, then swallow his cum.

  He erupted inside his boxers for the second time that night and made an unholy mess his underwear wouldn’t recover from.

  Undressing, he removed the boxers and used them to clean himself up. Tossing them in a plastic bag in the boot, he pulled on jeans and went commando, started up the engine and headed back to his flat in Chelsea, which his father now wished he’d never bought the rogue son who constantly annoyed his neighbours with loud music, marathon shagging sessions and late-night takeaway drops.

  Due to meet his mother and Daltrey for Sunday lunch later that day, it was clear the uncharacteristic smile plastered from one side of Dante’s face to the other was going to bring about an inordinate amount of questions from both.

  Four

  SINCE THEY’D BEGUN ENGAGING IN nights where she was on the receiving end of his lash, Dante and Shay had both developed more and more appetite for the exchange of power. She gave up her body to his control and didn’t ask anything else of him. Secretly, however… he wanted to give up his heart, to share his fears and worries with another. He wanted nothing more than for someone else to carry the burden of his sadness, matched with a heart so torn and heavy, desperate for succour. He longed for answers, for something… for life. He yearned for someone to take away the need in his heart and wrap it with theirs. He felt alone and it was what was killing him; because the hunger for Shay was there, the obsession, the need and the want, but neither of them wanted to consummate any sort of relationship. Any sort of love. Not with one another, anyway.

  He wondered how such obsession could exist without love; how he could walk away from her every weekend without so much as his cock having gone anywhere near her, but she’d stay in his head all week so that he couldn’t think about anything else but what they might do the following Saturday night. So why did he want her, but not?

  He sensed she would never give herself to him, not wholly. He also knew she was a liar. Things didn’t add up. Timelines of stories she often told were mismatched from one telling to another. She once told him her elder sister was three years her senior, then in another retelling she’d told him the same sister was actually two years older. He knew she was a liar, but that was all he knew. But why was she a liar? He had yet to find out.

  He was twenty-three now and already, several times, he’d told her they had to cease these Saturday-night sessions which were going nowhere. She’d been in his life for a full two years and still, he knew absolutely nothing about her. Like, what food did she like? What films? Music… clothes… cars… past loves… past hurts. Family. Childhood. He knew nothing, really. He needed his head back so he could screw women frivolously instead of being hung up on a woman he didn’t even fancy. He knew nothing real about her – and that was the problem. Maybe if he knew more, he could consider them soul mates – lost lovers with a debauched, uncaring parent in common… or something.

  How could he love someone he knew so little about? He looked up her family name in birth, marriages and death records and had found no mention of a Shay Lawrence fitting her name or background. He was certain Shay wasn’t who she said she was, so why had his uncle trusted her so much?

  In summation, he was obsessed – and confused – when it came to Shay.

  ***

  DALTREY had never approved of Dante spending so much time at Pernox but suddenly, the brothers hardly saw one another anymore and Daltrey knew why. His little brother had a woman there. He wanted to meet this woman, find out if she was worth it. Something told him she wasn’t. Daltrey was certain whoever this woman Shay was, she wasn’t making his brother happy – just distracted. Dante didn’t work, didn’t call anymore, not even their mother… and he had to do something.

  So one night, Daltrey followed his younger sibling to Pernox, unbeknown to Dante. Daltrey waited for his moment before pushing past the doors of the hut, hunting her down inside the dungeon, regardless of the fact he was breaking protocol. One of the bouncers collared Daltrey but Dante rescued his brother, who promised he would leave right after he had chance to speak with Shay, the woman who seemed to have his little brother wrapped around her finger.

  Inside Shay’s private bedroom, where she gave him an audience as he spewed his bile, Daltrey heard a bunch of lies in return he didn’t believe. He decided he had no choice…

  ***

  AS Daltrey left Shay’s bedroom, Dante ran after his brother.

  “What was said? Why are you here? Why are you angry?”

  “L
eave me alone,” Daltrey protested, eyes to the floor. Many of the girls did a double take when they saw the brothers together, almost like twins.

  Daltrey was so quick on his feet, Dante couldn’t find a moment to talk to him as they moved through the spa house.

  It was only in the tunnels underground that Dante finally pulled his brother back, grasping his shirt in his hands, pressing him against the wall.

  Daltrey didn’t fight back, merely let his eyes do the talking.

  Dante knew his brother was determined he shouldn’t see Shay anymore and when at loggerheads, the two of them were explosive. Both Sinclair boys had strong minds.

  “What was spoken up there? Tell me,” Dante implored.

  “She is pure malevolence. If you love me, get away from this place.”

  Dante shook his head. “We don’t even have sex. She’s just a friend, I swear it!”

  “If you don’t leave her, I will expose Pernox,” Daltrey spat, escaping his brother’s hold and uncharacteristically pushing Dante to the floor. Dante’s heart was bruised more than anything because Daltrey hated violence and now he saw in his big brother’s eyes how deplorable he viewed Pernox.

  “Please, Daltrey. I don’t know why you’re so upset! Just tell me.”

  “No,” Daltrey growled, and pointed at Dante, “you’ve got a month to sort yourself out otherwise I tell the first paper I find on Fleet Street about this place. The whole shebang. Either end it with her, or I blab. I swear on my life, I won’t let you ruin yourself for her.”

  Daltrey broke into a sprint, making his way out of the tunnels, his legs unable to carry him out of there quick enough.

  Dante never knew the details of the conversation which had transpired between his brother and Shay in private… because Shay’s bedroom was pretty much soundproof and all Dante had were the words of his brother to mull over:

  She is pure malevolence.

  ***