Claiming Fifi

by Tara Crescent

  “Fuck him. Add a million-dollar early cancellation clause to his contract.”

  I laugh. “Already done.” I tug at another weed, my smile fading. “I found a pair of platinum cuffs in your room.”

  “I was going to give them to Fiona,” he admits.

  “Was going to give them?” I stare at him in exasperation. “Seriously? Are you still blaming yourself for Sandy’s death?”

  “No.” He straightens his shoulders. “It was an accident. She died doing something she loved. She was happy.” He takes a deep breath. “At the end of the day, that’s all I can do. Life happens. I can’t wrap Fiona in a cocoon. It would smother her.”

  “So what’s the hold-up? Why aren’t we back in DC, knocking on her door?”

  “I want a future with her,” he says. He hesitates. “I hurt Fiona. Maybe it’s best if I stay away from her.”

  I get up. “I’m done with this bullshit,” I tell him. “Stop treating Fiona like a child. Get your ass to DC. Apologize to her. And if she throws you out, then stay away from her. But give her a chance to decide what she wants first.”

  His jaw tightens, and for a second, I wonder if I’ve pushed too hard. Then a smile spreads across his face. “Fair enough,” he agrees, getting to his feet. “Let’s go find Fiona.”

  37

  Fiona:

  I head back to my office, determined to confront Adrian and Brody, no matter how much it scares me. But when the elevator opens, I see a familiar figure outside my door.

  Xavier Leforte.

  “What do you want, Xavier?” I ask tiredly, moving past him to unlock my office.

  “Can I come in?”

  I’m in no mood to deal with him. “I guess.” I walk past my small reception and enter my office, taking a seat at my desk and waving Xavier to the chair opposite me. Less than three weeks ago, he’d walked into my life, and changed everything. I’m not sure whether I’m glad about that or not. “What do you want?”

  He holds out a check. “I came to give you this.”

  It’s my fee. One hundred thousand dollars. I stare at the piece of paper. “You don’t have to pay me,” I tell him. “We both know the job wasn’t real.”

  “The job was real. I needed something so I could put Downing away. You made that happen.”

  “Why did you care so much?” I ask him. “There are thousands of people out there like Raymond. Why was he special?”

  “He wasn’t,” he replies with gut-punching honesty. “But Layla is, and she would have gone after him if I hadn’t acted.”

  The woman at the club. His former submissive. She’d left Xavier fifteen years ago, and still, he moves heaven and earth for her.

  Adrian and Brody would do that for you.

  Even now, I know, deep down in my heart, that if I ever need them, they’ll be there. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

  I’m not sure how to fix the chasm that’s sprung up between us, but I need to try. Because I don’t want to be like Xavier Leforte. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life thinking about the one that got away.

  “The security guard who allowed Raymond to walk into the club with a weapon has been fired,” Xavier adds. “But it made me realize it’s been too long since I did a full security review. I’ve hired Adrian and Brody, of course. They’ll be spending a lot of time at the club in the upcoming months.” His lips lift in a slight smile. “Which is good, because it appears that I now own a motel in Mississippi. Brody tells me that I have you to thank.”

  “You’re welcome.” Brody’s talking about me to Xavier? My heart starts to beat faster.

  Then Xavier’s words sink in. They’re going to be spending a lot of time at the club? Hell no. I don’t want other submissives throwing themselves at my dominants.

  “I ran into Adrian and Brody on my way here,” he adds. “They asked me to give you this.” He fishes out a business card from this pocket, and hands it to me, along with a black blindfold. I recognize the Lockhart & Payne logo on the card.

  With shaking fingers, I flip it over and read the message on the back. Tonight? In our office.

  My throat goes dry, and my skin prickles with anticipation. Xavier clears his throat. “Thank you for everything, Fiona.”

  I watch him leave, and then I run a comb through my hair and apply a coat of lipstick. I have a date with my dominants.

  It’s seven in the evening. When I look through the glass doors, the Lockhart & Payne offices seem deserted. The lights are dim, and there’s no one in sight.

  I reach for the buzzer to dial the after-hours number, but before I can press it, Adrian appears in front of me.

  My heart is hammering in my chest. “Hey,” I say softly.

  “Fiona.” He opens the door, and I enter, unsure of where I stand with him, but absolutely determined that I’m not going to let him push me away.

  But my mouth has different ideas. “You left.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I hold up the blindfold. “Did you send me this?”

  He nods. “I did.” He reaches for me, and I go to him instantly. Who am I kidding? I can’t stay away. “I’m sorry,” he says, hugging me tightly, his voice choked with emotion. “I was an idiot.”

  “A fucking fool, I’d say,” Brody cuts in. I look over my shoulder to see him standing there, watching the two of us with a smile on his face.

  “Don’t shut me out again,” I whisper. “Please.”

  “Never,” Adrian says quietly. “I love you, Fiona. I want a future with you. We both do. If you’ll have us.”

  I blink back the tears that fill my eyes. “Yes.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I love you too.” Brody moves closer, and I pull him into the hug.

  My dominants. Both of them.

  “So the blindfold…”

  “Mmm.” Brody’s eyes dance with wicked heat. “You probably noticed we cleared out the office. This time, I want to hear you scream, sweetheart.”

  Hell yes.

  “There’s only one more thing.” Adrian pulls a small box from a table behind him and hands it to me, his eyes filled with love. I open it to see two sleek, thick platinum cuffs inside. “You’re ours, Fifi, if you’ll have us. And I want the world to know.”

  Yes.

  I can’t hold back my smile. I drop to my knees and hold my wrists up to them. “Will you put them on me? Both of you?”

  They do. When they’re done clasping the cuffs in place, they lift me to my feet. Joy is filling me, like a balloon in my chest, almost suffocating me with happiness. “I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

  “Forever,” they promise.

  I can’t wait.

  Epilogue

  Fiona:

  The floor is packed. Everyone has turned out to see Adrian and Brody scene with a submissive. “They haven’t been at the club for two years,” Keira says pragmatically, chuckling at my wide-eyed expression. “Besides,” she adds, “there are rumors going around about Raymond Downing. I heard he’s been kicked out of Club Ménage, and you had something to do with it? Everyone’s very curious.”

  She looks at me, waiting to see if I’m going to confirm her words.

  Not me. I signed Xavier’s non-disclosure agreement. Besides, I’ve already spent the money he gave me. I’d donated it to a newly established fund set up to aid women who couldn’t afford to bring charges against their abusers.

  No woman should ever have to choose between confronting her rapist and feeding her family. My fee from this job is a drop in the bucket, but it’s a start. Xavier’s kicked in a few million dollars too, and so has the significantly more intimidating Rafael Garcia.

  The fund is already helping. Callie Weiss still doesn’t want to press charges against Brody’s father, but Kayla Perkins, the teenager that Eugene Payne assaulted, has decided to sue.

  It’s tough for Brody, but deep down, I know that his primary emotion is relief. “I’ve been ashamed of my parents for most of my life,” he says. “But I’ve rea
lized that they’re not the family of my heart. The two of you are.”

  I shake my head to clear my thoughts and return my attention to Kiera, who’s surveying me strangely. “Me?” I ask, faking a laugh. “You must have me confused with someone else.”

  “Fifi.” Adrian’s voice is a caress of sound against my ear. He pulls up a barstool to the right of me. “Are you ready for tonight?” Brody sits at my left, and they both order sparkling water.

  Seeing where we’re sitting, a strong sense of déjá vu fills me.

  Less than a month ago, they’d sat next to me, but I’d been nervous, jumpy, afraid. What a difference a few weeks can make. “I’m ready.”

  “Are you nervous?” Brody’s fingers stroke my cheek.

  “A little. I didn’t realize how busy the club was going to be.”

  Adrian’s smile is knowing. “Are you turned on?”

  I laugh. They can read me pretty well. “A lot.”

  “Good.” He glances at the crowd, his eyebrow raised. “Shall we?”

  This is it. I’m going to be a kitten on stage, under the spotlights, in front of all these people.

  Not just a kitten. Adrian and Brody’s kitten.

  I take their hands and let them lead me forward. I’m ready.

 

  The stage curtain is closed. The area is set up with a table and a spanking bench, and a large pet bed to one side. None of the equipment causes me concern. We’ve been playing together for weeks, and I’m absolutely certain that Brody and Adrian won’t put me through anything I can’t handle.

  Adrian moves in front of me. “This is a demo,” he says, his voice reassuring. “The goal is to have a good time. We won’t be pushing your limits today. But you still have safewords, and I don’t want you to hesitate to use them.”

  “Yes, Mr. Lockhart.”

  Brody approaches me with an armful of clothes. “I went a little overboard on your costume,” he grins. “Here, let me help you into your outfit.”

  Their hands disrobe me and help me into a pair of white fur panties, and a white fur bra. The panties are handily equipped with a hole to accommodate a tail. Convenient. “They won’t stay on long,” Brody murmurs, his eyes amused, “but you might as well look the role at the start.”

  I shiver in anticipation. The fur is soft, silky. Underneath my bra, my nipples are hardening to points. I run my fingers over them, and Adrian gives me a stern look. “Do you want to get punished already, Fifi?”

  “Sorry,” I murmur, chagrined.

  Brody chuckles. “Lift your leg up,” he says. “Let’s get these boots on.”

  The boots are thigh-high and tan, trimmed in white fur. Brody helps me into them, his knuckles grazing against my pussy as he zips me up. “Very nice,” he says, his eyes heated. “Now, the final touch. Your mittens.”

  I hold out my hands, and they slip on the mittens. “Kittens don’t have fingers,” Adrian says in explanation as they bind my hands.

  “Yes, Mr. Lockhart.”

  “Kittens don’t talk either. During the demo, you can purr and meow, but you can’t use your words, okay?”

  “Meow,” I reply, trying it out.

  Adrian grins. “Good Fifi,” he says. “Let’s finish getting you ready.” He lubes up my butt plug tail, and inserts it into my tight anus, spanking my ass as I wriggle. Brody fastens a headband with pretty cat ears on my head, and buckles a pink leather collar studded with rhinestones around my neck. Finally, they tie a mask over my face, one that covers my eyes and most of my face.

  They step back and look at me. “Very nice,” Brody says, his tone appreciative. “Such a pretty kitten.” He wraps his hand around my hair, pulling me close and planting a kiss on my lips. “Ready?”

  I nod, fighting back my nerves. Adrian and Brody are well-known at the club. They’ve played here with Sandy many times. This is their first time doing a public demo with me, and I want to make them proud. I’m determined to be the best kitten I can be.

  The curtains swing open. Spotlights shine down on the stage.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Brody steps forward with a grin. “Thank you for coming. Adrian and I are delighted to be back here at Club Ménage. Tonight, we’re going to do a pet play demo.” He turns to look at me. “With the assistance of the lovely Fifi.” He attaches a leash to my collar. “Fifi, come.”

  I start walking forward. “No,” Adrian chides, laughter in his voice. “On your hands and knees.”

  Of course. Pets don’t walk on two feet. I lower myself to my hands and knees, blushing as my tail brushes between my legs. Brody leads me to the front of the stage, and I crawl behind him, tugged forward by the leash. My pussy floods with heat at the way he’s leading me. This is so naughty. The more he treats me like a pet, the more turned on I’m getting.

  When Brody reaches the front, he pats his thigh, his meaning clear. I’m supposed to crawl toward him and nuzzle against his leg, exactly the way a kitten would do.

  I’m caught between embarrassment and surrender, and my need to surrender wins out. All I have to do in this roleplay is to be an adored, cherished pet. All I have to do is allow myself to sink to the warmth of their care.

  I rub against Brody, my cheek brushing against him affectionately. “Good kitty,” he says, patting my head, his voice hoarse. His cock hardens, and the outline of his erection is clearly visible underneath his pants. I resist the urge to nuzzle against it and wait for my next set of instructions.

  Adrian takes over. “What we have here,” he says, addressing the audience, “is one very pretty little kitten.” His eyes twinkle. “Now, I know some of you think that puppies are much better pets. More obedient, more pliable, much easier to train. But,” he says, his hand stroking my back, “kittens have their charm. Kittens are more playful, and training them,” he flashes me a grin, “is so much more fun.”

  He lifts me up and set me on the wooden table, tugging at my leash until I kneel. “When you get a new kitten,” he says, “you must examine her very carefully, to make sure you have yourself a healthy pet.” His fingers work the clasp of the bra, and it falls off my shoulders, exposing my naked breasts to the hungry eyes of the audience. “I’m going to demonstrate on Fifi here.” His callused hands knead my globes, squeezing them, rubbing my nipples between his fingers, causing them to harden and swell in response.

  “Nice firm breasts,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Now, let’s move lower.”

  Brody approaches with a pair of scissors. Three snips and my panties lie in tatters on the table. He pulls away the fabric with a wink. “Spread your legs, Fifi.”

  I part my knees, focusing on Adrian and Brody, not the watching crowd. “The best kinds of kittens,” Adrian continues, “love their role.” He thrusts two fingers inside my pussy, and pulls them out, showing everyone how they gleam with my juices. “When one finds a kitten so precious and perfect,” his voice is tender, “one never lets her go.”

  I never want to let them go either. I love them so much that it is almost painful to breathe.

  His fingers are at my mouth. “Taste yourself, kitten.”

  I purr as I lick his fingers, and I can’t resist nibbling them. Adrian shakes his head. “It seems that we have some more training to do,” he remarks to the audience. “Let’s finish up the examination here, and we’ll take care of that. Fifi, turn around.”

  He positions me so I have my back to the audience, and presses my shoulders down so they rest on the table. His touch is almost impersonal, as if he’s a vet handling a pet, firm and in-charge. My pussy gushes at my treatment, and his quiet chuckle indicates he’s noticed my arousal. “Fifi seems to like being on display,” he says conversationally to the crowd.

  “You’re doing great,” he whispers into my ear, kissing my shoulder. I warm at his praise. In a louder voice, he says, “Now, it’s time to train our kitten.”

  “But first,” Brody walks back to the front, holding a pair of nipple clamps with silver bells dangling on their end. �
�Let’s get these on.”

  He lowers his hot mouth on one nipple, and Adrian repeats the motion on the other side. Both of them suck until I’m aching with need, moaning with desire at the way their tongues and their teeth scrape at my flesh. When I’m so turned on that I’m ready to break the rules and beg for their touch on my pussy, Brody tightens each clamp and set the bells swinging. “Kittens have a tendency to sneak up on people and pounce,” he says cheerfully. “This way, we’ll be able to hear her coming.”

  “Let’s test it out.” Adrian lifts me off the table and places me on the floor. He holds the leash in his hand, and sets off in a walk around the stage. I follow on all fours, my breasts swinging as I move, the sounds of the bells clearly audible. My cheeks grow heated at the melodic chimes. This is so very naughty, and I am so very wet.

  Brody helps me onto the spanking bench, and the spotlight obligingly follows me. He buckles me down, fastening wrists, ankles, elbows and knees so I can’t move. “Adrian and I arm-wrestled for the privilege of spanking Fifi,” he says, laughing, “And I won.”

  Adrian chuckles as well, positioning himself in front of me. “I’ve got you,” he says in a low voice, a smile creasing his face. “I’m going to hold you the entire time.”

  Warmth floods through me again. I’d told them my limits, and rather than rail against them, they’re respecting them. I’m the luckiest woman in the world.

  The sharp slap of a leather crop against my naked ass brings my attention back to the scene. “Kittens,” Brody says sternly, as he brings down the crop on my exposed flesh, “do not nibble and nip at fingers.”

  “Meow,” I moan. The stroke stings, but leaves heat in its wake.

  “Did you say something, Fifi?” Brody asks, punctuating his question with another smack. I hiss and shake my head. Adrian’s eyes survey me carefully, his fingers stroking my face, scratching behind my ears. “Good kitty,” he says softly. “You like being trained, don’t you?”