by Livia Grant
“Fine. I’m going to make love to my wife and then jump in the shower. I’ll be there as soon as I can, but I can’t stay long. I really do need to leave in time to make it to the soccer match.”
“No problem. See you soon, doc.”
After they disconnect, Lukus heads off to shower to try to get his day started. He wonders how Brianna fared in her cage overnight. He pushes down the guilt he feels for confining her alone in such a cramped space.
“Stop being such a pussy,” he tells his reflection. “She deserves this and more. She deserves every little devious thing your sick mind can dream up.”
Lukus feels surprisingly better as he heads to the shower. He’d much rather drag his friend’s wife in to suck him off, but knowing that’s not in the cards, settles for stroking his soapy cock until thick ropes of cum splash the shower tiles. Just thinking about how hot Brianna’s body looked draped over the spanking bench the night before, her own cum dripping down her inner thighs, makes him contemplate jacking off a second time in hopes he’ll be able to contain himself when he sees her naked body again this morning.
Chapter Seven
Brianna’s bladder is about to burst by the time she finally sees Lukus emerging from his office across the room. She hates how calm he looks. He’s obviously had a shower; his dark hair is still damp. But he’s neglected to shave and the rough, dark stubble of hair on his handsome face gives him a dangerous, bad-boy look that causes her core to wake up and take note. She tells herself that it’s the fear causing her body to react, but if she’s honest, she’ll admit she’s drawn to Lukus’ power, his strength.
‘Wake up Brianna! He’s the enemy.’
She doesn’t wait for him to get nearby before she lets him have it. “God damn you, Lukus. I can’t believe you actually put me in a cage and left me here, naked and freezing, all night as if I’m a dog. I know Markus is angry at me, but I won’t believe he actually condones you treating me like this.”
He’s arrived next to her cage and squats down eye level with his reluctant captive. “Nice to see you this morning too, Brianna. If you wanted the deluxe accommodations, you should have kept your legs crossed. Whores who cheat on their husbands don’t have much in the way of standing around here, sweetheart.”
She hates how casual he sounds, especially when she’s trying to keep from panicking.
“What would have happened if the building caught on fire? I could have been trapped… killed. It’s not safe at all to keep me locked up like this.”
Lukus laughs out loud, catching her off-guard. She’d never seen him smile, let alone laugh. She hates how his face lights up. She’s pretty sure she sees a hint of a dimple in his chin, making him suddenly seem younger and less menacing. But she’s not fooled.
His voice is annoyingly warm when he replies. “I think the only fire you should be worried about, little girl, is the fire that’s going to light up your ass during your next punishment session.”
He’s not moving to open the cage yet and Brianna is getting impatient. “You need to open the door and let me out. Now. I really have to go to the bathroom.”
He watches her intently before he answers, all traces of humor now gone. “Let’s get this straight right now. I don’t have to do anything and that includes opening this door. I know you didn’t have time to review the membership contract you signed, but if you had, you’d know you’re little more than a puppet. And I, my dear, am the puppet master. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be.”
“I’m not some simpering submissive here to bow at your feet. You can’t treat me like this.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” He stands and moves away from her.
Brianna panics. “Wait… Lukus. Where are you going? I told you. I really need to go to the bathroom.”
His dark green eyes are intense as they take her in. “Is that any way to ask your Master permission?”
She hates the slight smirk she sees playing on his lips, but she knows she needs to play nice. “Please,” she says through gritted teeth.
“Please, what?”
“Please, open the door so I can go to the bathroom.”
He stands staring at her, waiting expectantly, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest.
She doesn’t know why he’s just waiting. “What?”
“It’s time you address me properly. I’m not ‘Lukus’ to you. You will call me either ‘Master’ or ‘Sir.’ Try again.”
Bri’s hackles are up. How dare he? Still, she fears she’ll need to play along if she’s ever going to get a chance to escape. Swallowing her pride, she manages to choke out her request again, this time hoping it meets with his domineering approval. “Would you please open the door and let me out so I can go to the bathroom… sir.”
He makes her wait for several long seconds before smiling and walking back to the cage. He makes a slight detour to stop and pick up something from a nearby table. Brianna can’t see what he has in his hands until squats near the door to her cage.
“Give me your hands through this hole in the door.” His tone leaves no room for dissent.
Bri pushes her wrists through the small opening in the door, her request coupled with a reflexive, “Yes, sir” before she can catch herself. She knows he’s enjoying her submission because a sly smile lights up his face as he begins locking fleece-lined cuffs around her outstretched wrists.
“Now your ankles,” he demands.
Brianna is not at all happy about this request since it requires her to sit back on her sore, bruised ass in order to stick each ankle. The pain from sitting is sharp and a strange pleasure washes through her as she’s reminded of the strong punishment at Lukus’ hands the previous night. She lets a gasp escape as she moves and glances up in the hope that Lukus didn’t hear.
He smiles at her. “How’s your ass today?”
“You know exactly how it is, you bastard,” she snaps out without thinking.
He’s just finishing locking the fleece-lined ankle restraint as he grabs hold of her foot and squeezes with full strength. Brianna cries out in pain.
“Care to try that answer again, sweetheart?” His voice is deceivingly calm. His green eyes show just how close to danger Brianna is skating right now.
With tears in her eyes she tries again. “My back, ass and legs are really sore today… sir.”
He squeezes for a few more seconds before releasing her. “Better. We’ll get you trained yet.”
Satisfied that all the restraints are attached, Lukus unlocks the padlock securing Brianna’s cage and swings the door open. She’s forced to crawl out on her hands and knees, and is grateful when he helps her up, his almost gentle assistance a contradiction to his earlier treatment. Her cramped legs feel like spaghetti and he supports her until she steadies herself enough to walk.
Only the pressure on her over-full bladder hastens her along. “I really need a restroom.” She remembers to throw in a soft ‘sir’ as an afterthought.
Lukus takes her right hand in his and steers her across the room to a corner of the dungeon she hasn’t seen yet. She doesn’t see a door in this direction, which confuses her. When Lukus stops near the wall and drops her hand, Bri looks up at him.
“Where’s the door to the bathroom?”
He raises an eyebrow and she quickly adds another ‘sir’.
“Slaves don’t have the privilege of a private restroom or a real toilet for that matter.”
Bri looks around and with horror knows immediately he intends her to squat over the five-gallon bucket sitting in the middle of what looks like a four-by-four tiled shower floor with a drain in the middle. She now notices the showerhead jutting out from the wall just behind the bucket.
Her voice is barely a whisper. “You can’t be serious?”
His voice is so powerful, so in contrast to her own. “Oh, I’ve never been more serious. If you need to pee, here’s your bucket.”
She can feel him staring at her as she loo
ks down at the bucket, her heart racing.
They stand there in a silent showdown until she finally looks up at him, tears streaming down her face. “Oh God, please. Don’t make me do this. I can’t.”
His eyes are boring into her. Already stripped naked, she didn’t think she could feel more vulnerable in front of her captor, but she’d been wrong. The harsh look on his face is striping another layer from her already fragile psyche.
“Well, I guess I could be persuaded to let you use my master bathroom upstairs. You could take a hot bath and use all of the facilities… privately of course.” He pauses as she briefly gets her hopes up before dashing them just as quickly. “All it will take is one little signature on your divorce papers. You sign and I take off the cuffs, get you a hot bath, a soft bed and some clothes. I’ll even let you call that liar of a friend of yours and let her come pick you up. You can go on your merry way, free to start the rest of your life.”
His words toughen her up. “I told you last night and I’ll repeat it again because it seems you might have a hearing problem. I am never - do you hear me? - never going to sign the divorce papers.” After a dramatic pause, she defiantly raises her chin, looks him square in the eye. “Sir.”
He slowly breaks into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Suit yourself. You have two minutes and then we’re moving on.”
Her bravery quickly evaporates as she realizes the fragile position she’s in. She’s about to burst, but there’s no way in hell she can squat over the bucket to pee. Not in private and certainly not with him watching her. She makes up her mind to just power through. “No, thank you. I don’t need to go anymore, sir.”
“Okay. If you say so, sweetheart.” He takes her hand again in a deceivingly gentle manner and leads her towards his office.
As they enter his office, the smell of coffee and pancakes jostle a growl out of her hungry stomach. She quickly takes in the details of the space and is surprised to find a homey but masculine office. The walls are lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves holding hundreds of books, CDs and DVDs. A comfortable-looking brown leather couch, oversized chair and ottoman sit in the middle of the room.
A space between the shelves directly across from his huge desk holds high-tech entertainment equipment. Upon closer inspection, she also sees what looks to be an opening to what looks like a small elevator.
He surprises her by acknowledging her inspections of the surroundings. “I live upstairs. I turned the top floor of the building into one huge loft.”
Completing the room is a round, heavy wooden table with six padded chairs surrounding it. Decks of cards and stacks of poker chips are piled on the far side of the table and the scent of cigar smoke mingles with leather. It’s the comforting, masculine scent of a man cave.
Lukus takes a seat in front of the one and only plate of food placed on the table. Brianna pulls the chair next to him but he abruptly stops her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She’s flustered. She truly doesn’t know what he expects of her. Suddenly more self-conscience than ever, she brings her arms up to cover her breasts and tries to hide her pussy from his probing stare.
“do not sit at the table. You’ll kneel here and I’ll feed you what I think you deserve to eat.” When she stands staring at him as if he’s from outer space, he reinforces his point. “Kneel. Now.”
He points to the floor and only then does she see the pillow placed there, presumably for her to kneel on. Their eyes lock in a heated stare down. Bri starts out so very strong, but with each passing second of his probing gaze, she feels her resolve crumbling. She can feel the shivers beginning to shake her body and prays that they’re not visible enough for Lukus to notice. She doesn’t want him to know how deeply he’s getting to her.
He doesn’t need to say another word. It only takes about thirty seconds before Bri’s resolve is gone and she finds herself slowly dropping to her knees on the pillow. She can’t bear to look him in the eye any longer, which is bad enough, but she feels more traitorous tears streaming down her cheeks. It takes all her will to keep from sobbing her distress.
e
Lukus is grateful she finally looks down when she does. He needs some time to regain control over his own rambling emotions. He knows that had she continued to stare him down much longer, she would have seen his own resolve wavering.
‘Why the hell am I letting her get to me?’
Even though he doesn’t have his own permanent submissive at the moment, almost every weekend at least one of the club members requests a private punishment or training session with Master Lukus. He never has trouble being the strict disciplinarian and trainer they expect, having mastered hardening himself to the crying or sobbing submissive. Their tears and even screams let him know he was getting his job done. So how can a few quiet tears on the face of his friend’s wife give him pause?
He knows the answer immediately. It keeps coming back to his guilt. He knows Brianna is no ordinary club member. She has absolutely no clue what she’d been forced to sign up for, no clue of how dark his world could get, no clue of how severe a Master Lukus punishment can be, no clue of how much mind-blowing pleasure he could deliver to her hot, tight body.
‘Don’t go there, dip shit.’
His stomach churns with an uncomfortable roll as he thinks about the devious, humiliating plans he has for his captive, but he forces aside his doubts as he reaches out to cut the pancakes and sausage on his plate. After taking a few bites, he pokes the fork through a bite of pancake and sausage and holds it in front of Brianna. When she doesn’t open after a few moments, he eats it instead.
He makes a show of ignoring now as he takes up his iPad and catches up on his email and current events while continuing to eat. Occasionally he stops to offer her a bite, but she holds firm in her refusal to eat from his hand.
When there are only a few bites left on his plate, he finally addresses her. “I’d think long and hard about refusing the next bite I offer you, sweetheart, because I assure you, it will be the last food you’re offered until much later today. I have big plans for you and I suspect you might want to keep up your strength.”
As she continues to hold her ground, defiance in her eyes, Lukus can’t help but be proud of her strength. It’s been a long time since he’s met a woman like the one kneeling at his feet. Just his luck, she’s completely off-limits.
e
It’s hard for Brianna to resist taking the bites offered so far because the hunger is already gnawing at her. She has very good reasons for refusing the food. Not only does she want to show Lukus she won’t submit to being fed like a dog while she kneels at his feet, she knows anything she eats or drinks is eventually going to have to come out again. She does not want to use a five-gallon bucket as her toilet while he watches.
There are only a few bites left when he holds out the next offering of food for Brianna. She feels anger as she closes her eyes, opens her mouth and leans forward to take in the bite. As she slowly chews, she’s surprised to feel Lukus gently stroking the top of her head as he might a faithful family pet. The fact that she finds his touch oddly comforting does nothing to lessen her anger, and she flashes him a defiant look. His ensuing chuckle just fuels her anger. He feeds her the remaining three bites before handing her a cold bottle of water to wash down her breakfast.
Brianna is thirsty but only sips the water sparingly, hoping to avoid compounding the pressure on her bladder. She begins to worry what kind of punishments Lukus may have planned for her today. She’s terrified of losing bladder control and peeing during a spanking.
She musters the courage to demand an answer. “So what exactly is your plan? I already told you I’m not going to sign the divorce papers. So do you plan on tying me up and wailing on my ass with every punishment tool you own until you have to finally give up?”
Their eyes have found each other again and for a brief moment, the showdown is amicable. Then Lukus’ face turns into the mask of the
deviant Master he is. His answer is chilling. “Brianna, I think it’s time for you to learn there are an endless number of punishments at my disposal. Now that I know you actually get off on the pain of a well-delivered paddling, you’ve forced me to change my plan. I can’t very well punish you with orgasms, now, can I?” He waits a minute to let that sink in before finishing his thought. “Sweetheart, I hate to tell you but there are way worse punishments than pain. I’m going to enjoy introducing you to a few of them this morning.”
Chapter Eight
Lukus can tell his threat has unnerved Brianna. Any other day, seeing a submissive begin to shake with fear at his words would have him proud of his own mastery. Today, he just feels like a complete asshole.
He’s so distracted by Brianna, he’s failed to hear the light beep that should have alerted him to someone entering the club with their keycard. As a result, James’ arrival startles him.
“What the hell is going on here, Lukus?”
Brianna and Lukus both swing around to see who’s entered. Lukus gives his friend a look that would intimidate a lesser man, but James simply shrugs it off.
Brianna, on the other hand, looks utterly confused at the appearance of the family friend. Her first instinct is to pull her hands up to cover her nakedness in a show of modesty. But modesty takes a back seat to self-preservation. Finally, someone she knows! Someone to rescue her! She jumps to her feet and throws herself into James’ arms, holding onto him for dear life.
“Oh thank God you’re here, James. You have to get me out of here. I need to get home to Markus. Please James, take me home.” She doesn’t even try to hold back her sobs.
With her face buried against James’ chest, Brianna is oblivious to the silent showdown the two dominant friends are having. If looks could kill, both men might be dead on the floor. It’s clear James is furious at Brianna’s condition. Lukus in return, is furious that James is undoing all the progress he’s made this morning. He’d been chipping away at her defenses and closer to signing the divorce paperwork. Now, James’ comforting her has set them back.
