“No, I won't. It's absolutely necessary for the staff to have knowledge of your actions, and I'm more than happy to fill them in on my side of it.” So saying, Finn went about relaying the last twenty minutes of the evening in detail.
Ava huddled deeper into her blanket and avoided the mistress's eyes. She reached out and grabbed the little towel Finn had used on her face, twisting it between her hands. For some reason, the woman was spearing her with that searing gaze, as though the entire incident rested on Ava's shoulders. Did she not know trying to intimidate Ava wouldn't prevent Finn from reporting her to the Dungeon Monitors? Scaring her was more likely to spur him into taking the complaint higher.
By the time Finn completed his recollection, the Dungeon Monitor wasn't looking happy. In fact, he looked like a mountain ranger who'd just discovered some idiots had set a fire in the middle of his forest. Molten chocolate eyes scoured over Marie Antoinette as he shook his head slowly. “Is that the way of it, Marie?”
She puffed herself up again, much to Ava's delight. It was so satisfying to see her deflate when the Dominants put her back in her place. If that made Ava a bad person, so be it. Sometimes the bullies deserved to get knocked down a peg or six, and Marie Antionette was a bully if ever she'd met one. The woman was sickeningly similar to Ava's father in some respects.
“It's ludicrous, Dillon. All I did was come over to introduce myself and this is the thanks I get.”
“Sounds as though you did a little more than that. It's not the first time a member has complained about your conduct. If this guy feels strongly enough about it to report the incident formally, it's out of my hands and landing in Spencer's.” The man called Dillon lifted a broad shoulder. “It won't just be a suspension of your membership this time, Marie. It's about time you learned you can't just impose yourself on others and expect them to welcome you into a scene.”
As Marie Antoinette kicked up a fuss, cursing and railing at the Doms, Finn shifted so Ava could see his face and met her eyes with a rueful smile. This wasn't how either of them had envisioned their return to Black Light, but what was a night in the club without drama? Hopefully by the end of this saga, there'd be enough of the evening left to discover what Finn had conjured in his head for their next scene.
Around them, curious patrons returned to their business. The chorus of sinful pleasure continued without a missed beat, whimpers and whispers and screams twining into one beautiful song with an orchestra of sound behind it. It was no longer as frightening as she'd once believed to be surrounded by the things that went on here. They weren't acts of sin and debauchery played out by freaks and sadists. They were tests of trust and dedication, strength and stamina.
If someone was really lucky, they were a declaration of love.
“I'll file the complaint,” Finn stated loudly enough to drown out the ravings of the pissed-off woman. “If she can't admit she did wrong and apologize for it, she deserves to pay the price, whatever it may be. I'm presuming Spencer is going to want to speak to me?” he asked Dillon as Marie Antoinette screeched in outrage.
The DM scrubbed his hand over his short dark hair. “I imagine so. I don't want to hold up the rest of your evening, so if you're still in the mood to play, go right ahead. All I ask is that you don't leave Black Light until Spencer has a chance to talk to you.”
“Not a problem. I need to speak with him regarding another matter, so might as well kill two birds with one stone. Thanks for stepping in.” Offering his hand, Finn introduced himself. “Finn McLeod.”
Ava rolled her eyes as the men shook hands as though there wasn't hell raining down around their ears. She barely heard the DM identify himself as Dillon Macallister over the shrieking rants of the Domme. She spotted another man hurrying their way and assumed backup was coming to investigate the noise. Finn and Dillon spoke quietly for a few moments, too quiet for Ava to hear, then Dillon stepped between Finn and Marie Antoinette.
She giggled when Finn scooped her off the loveseat, blanket and all, then performed possibly the most heroic act of all time and carried her away from the chaos of the mistress's vocal rampage. Her eardrums were ready to kiss her lover's feet for that small act of kindness. “Shouldn't we, you know, clean up after ourselves?”
“Dillon's cutting us a break and dealing with it, just this once. He's hoping he can calm the crazy one down if I'm not in her range of vision, and I don't want you getting hurt if she escalates the situation. So, we'll continue on with our night until Spencer comes calling.”
“Is she going to be in trouble?”
“That's not for us to worry about. People make choices, Ava. Her choice wasn't thought through, and now there'll be a price. Sound familiar?” Finn strode through the club, bypassing the main stage and some of the smaller ones. Many of the stations were already in use, but he didn't seem deterred by the lack of areas. “Spencer will take of it, little dove. Put her aside now, she's no longer our concern.”
“You didn't like her from the moment she stepped into the locker room, did you?”
He slowed, looking for something, then veered away to one of the smallest stages, dropping her onto her bare feet on the edge of the platform. “When a pregnant heifer carries a dead calf without aborting, she begins to smell rotten. Sickly sweet. It's an odor you don't forget quickly because it's a warning of bad omens; Marie Antoinette reeks of it. She's trouble with a capital T, and we've had more than our fair share of that this week.”
Ava winced at the imagery that brought to mind, then shrugged it off. She couldn't say his description was wrong—Marie Antoinette did indeed bring an air of upset into a room with her presence. Trouble, stress, and fatigue had been their curse since Tuesday; they didn't need any more and, so far, Black Light wasn't the stress-relief she'd been hoping for. The night was young yet, she mused, and studied the play station with mixed emotions. Gripping Finn's arm, she glanced up at him with a frown, then back to the sole piece of equipment waiting under a soft blue spotlight. “Um, Finn? Not to sound obtuse or anything, but what the hell is that?”
Finn stripped the blanket away from her, leaving her naked once more. His palms skated over her shoulders, down her arms, and plucked the towel she still held from her grasp. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered four words with ominous anticipation.
“Welcome to the Sybian, Ava.”
Chapter 14
Finn
“Sybian? What the hell is a Sybian?”
Sex machines weren't on her list of hard limits, Finn remembered, and her astonished question told him she’d never seen one before, let alone considered using one. Well, why would she? Before him, her sex life had been near non-existent.
“Take a look, little dove. I need to choose a plate for it, so I'll just be a moment. Make sure you don't touch the remote or any buttons; I wouldn't want you to ruin your surprise.” Finn nudged her forward, watching as she took hesitant steps toward the contraption in the middle of the stage. She reminded him of a wary filly, assessing an unfamiliar danger in her pasture. Wanting to know what it was but scared it would bite.
The Sybian itself was only a small box, no more than a foot long and wide enough to straddle comfortably. Some wise soul had mounted it on a flat-topped triangular podium almost three feet tall. The top was a good two feet wide—wouldn't want orgasm-drunk submissives toppling off the equipment while they were blissed out and boneless—and thickly padded.
Ava circled it with trepidation, poking the padding with a finger then setting her hand on it fully. She still looked beautifully baffled, her eyebrows drawn down in thought. Trying to work out how it worked, what it did, what she was supposed to do with it. Weighing her suspicion of the machine against her trust in him.
Finn padded around the edge of the platform without disturbing her, sticking to the shadows as he moved toward the black leather chest he'd seen concealed at the back of the staging area. He popped the lid, admiring the range of attachments. He knew what he wanted for the scene, it was just a matter
of fitting the correct plate to his requirements.
“Um, Finn? Master Finnegan? I don't get it. Am I supposed to ride this thing? Bend over it? Pet it?”
Chuckling to himself, Finn pocketed a packet of lube before rummaging through the plates in the chest until he found the one. “You'll find out soon enough, Ava. Move to the end of the bench and set your hands on the top of the knee rests. Close your eyes until I order otherwise.”
“Oh...yes, Sir.”
He carried the silicon plate to the Sybian, pleased to note Ava stood exactly as asked, with her eyes closed. Immediate obedience. Face relaxed and slack with her confidence in him, she appeared to be content even if she was trembling a little. He approved; nerves could be utilized but fear was useless if he didn't have a specific task for it to accomplish. “Before we begin, I want you to know there's nothing for you to be afraid of, Ava. This is a reward, a sweet end to the night.”
As he slotted the attachment onto the Sybian and checked it was secure, Ava laughed quietly, the sound tense but light. “It would be nice to think I'm past the point of being afraid with you, Sir. Besides, it's not you that scares me...much. Some of what we do is just...intimidating the first time. I think the sadist in you enjoys it.”
“You're not wrong,” he admitted. Satisfied he'd selected the correct size for her, Finn took the packet of lube from his pocket and ripped it open, squeezing the contents into his palm and discarding the wrapper. Spreading the cool gel between his palms, he grasped the pair of appendages affixed to the Sybian and lubed them up. “There's a kick in knowing you're out of your element. You already know I like to push your limits, little dove, and guide you further than you thought you could go. There's a bigger rush in watching you come alive and grow into yourself.”
With the machine ready to go, Finn retrieved the towel he’d taken from her and cleaned off his hands as he wandered around behind his nervous sub. Gripping her hips, he tugged her back until her body formed a bowed bridge between the table and him, her ass displaying his favorite holes. Not that he should have favorites when her mouth was as generous as it was, but these two...his touch was gentle between her legs, pushing his thumb into the wet heat of her pussy, then withdrawing to press through the resistance of her anus.
“Oh fuck. Not my ass, Sir, please. Not tonight.”
He withdrew, listened for her sigh of relief, then pushed in again, deeper and with conviction. Her juices smoothed his way, but Ava hunched her hips, wriggling her hips from side to side. He added two fingers to her pussy for good measure. “However polite your request, little minx, just remember who's in charge here. Christ, there was no need to lube you up. This tight little pussy seems inclined to leak all over my hand.”
“Oh my God, what do I need lubing up for?” She quivered, her fingers turning white as they dug into the padding.
“Keep those eyes shut,” Finn warned, enjoying the flutter of her pussy around his fingers. Even her ass appeared to be a greedy little thing tonight, clenching down on his thumb with an eagerness hidden by Ava's words. She should know by now, she couldn't hide her body's reactions. He reached around her with his free hand, sought out her clit.
Her hips jolted, juddered. She was trying to keep still, probably to avoid irritating her tender rear hole further, but a forceful wiggle of his thumb against sensitive tissues had her squealing and bucking. Shame he had plans for her, really. His cock was already back in the game and harder than ever. There wasn't an ounce of regret as he brought her to the edge of climax and held her there, listening to babbling pleas for release and soft, whimpering cries as he dangled her orgasm in front of her like bait.
“God, please, Sir, Master Finnegan, I need to come. I really need to...oh, please. Please let me come. I'll be good for the rest of the night, maybe even the whole weekend. Anything, I swear.” Her head hung low between her outstretched arms, her hair swinging gently in time with the undulations of her body. Seeking out every twitch of pleasure she could in order to push herself over the edge. “I'll do anything, I promise.”
“I do love it when you beg, Ava.” He trailed his free fingers over smooth skin, circling his way from her clit to the weight of her breasts dangling free. He cupped one, finding her nipple and rolling it between thumb and forefinger. She rode the fingers penetrating her of her own volition, warbling desperate words. “Ask me nicely for your surprise, and I'll think about giving it to you ahead of schedule.”
He was sure he heard her mutter, “Sadist”, amongst the flurry of brilliantly emphatic pleading she offered him. But as much as she begged, he didn't hear her say the magic words. “Come on, little dove. You're saying a lot, just not the right things. There's an orgasm with your name on it if you just ask for it.”
“Please, Sir,” she ground out between clenched teeth. “Please may I have my surprise now?”
A quick twist of his fingers, a waggle of his thumb, turned the tail end of the now into a frantic whine. She asked so prettily, he saw no reason to delay either of their enjoyment any longer. The tightness of her holes tried to suck him back in when he slipped his fingers free. Her moan was one of both relief and disappointment. Such a lovely sound, but he much preferred the noises she made when control wrested from her grasp and allowed her to express herself without interference.
Finn's entire world consisted of the area of stage beneath the single blue-tinged spotlight. Whatever was beyond the light, out in the shadowed darkness where shapes drifted and danced, held no importance. Even the laughter and chatter, the thud and snap of implements against skin and the sounds of sex, was little more than white noise to his ears.
He did love falling into this headspace, where reality whittled down to nothing but his submissive. Despite the privacy they had at home, it was easier for him to access this state of mind here. No cell phone, no front door for a ranch hand to knock on, no disturbances. The stresses and strains of the ranch were hundreds of miles away, the chains of one responsibility crumbling away to make room for the golden links of another.
Shouldering that weight, Finn helped Ava stand, his hand at the base of her spine as she swayed a little, then urged her closer to the padded frame. “I'm trusting you to keep those eyes closed, Ava. I'll know if you don't. I'm going to boost you up onto the platform in front of you. You'll stand when I tell you and listen to my voice for further instructions.”
“O-Okay, Sir.”
“Good girl. Up you go.” It was simple enough to lift her the few feet onto the padded rests. She stayed on her knees as Finn moved to the side and took her hand. His gaze shifted up to the beam hidden by darkness above her head and the fluid length of metal dangling down from it. The integrated cuffs hanging on the end looked soft and fluffy, perfect for subs struggling to surrender another orgasm to their Dom.
Altering his plans, Finn kicked off his boots and hopped up onto the table, taking the slim leather bands in hand to study them. The cuffs were new, the lambskin unblemished and clean. Upon closer inspection, he noted they weren't integrated as he first believed, but attached to the split ends of the chain by snap hooks linked to the D-rings. He'd pay for the cuffs, he decided, working the leather free of the buckles.
“My hand is in front of you, little dove. Take it and stand up,” he ordered when he was ready. “Carefully,” he added, aiding her as she fumbled. It was a huge test of trust for her to obey him when she couldn't see, especially with voluntary blindness. She could have refused, could have opened her eyes. But Ava passed the test with flying colors, fighting her way to her feet and struggling to balance as the firm padding under her soles dipped slightly with her weight.
Finn wrapped the cuffs around her wrists, fitting them snugly enough to slip two digits between the lambskin and her skin. He didn't believe she would need to use her safe word or the snap hooks, but he double checked the physical aspect of the safety parameters. “Are they comfortable, Ava?”
She twisted her wrists, checking her range of mobility. “Um, the right one seems
a little tight, Sir?”
“Is that a question or are you telling me it is?”
Ava frowned. “Sorry, Sir. I meant to say, the right cuff is a bit tight.”
“Clever girl. Let me fix that.” He loosened the cuff a notch. “How's that feel?”
“Better, thank you, Sir.”
“So polite, little dove. I need you to walk toward me with your feet spread. Don't want any stubbed toes tonight, do we? No, we do not,” he answered for her with a chuckle. “Come on, toward me. Plenty of room, you won't fall.”
“I don't suppose I could open my eyes, Sir?”
“Not until I say, Ava. Just keep shuffling toward me.” Adding a touch of firmness to his tone, Finn watched her do just that, her feet barely lifting as they moved forward, her toes touching down first to gauge the lay of the land. The chain clinked gently with the movement, reminding her she was restrained even if the cuffs became part of her. Sometimes the feel of the cuffs absorbed into a sub's mind, the brain registering them as an extension of their body instead of a tool. “Stop. Perfect.”
The stage shuddered when he landed on it, stepping off the padded table without a care. As soon as his feet connected, he turned back to her. “I'm right beside you, Ava. You're standing over the Sybian now. I'd like you to squat down, slowly. Use the chain if you need to.”
“Oh, my legs are going to hate you for this,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to catch. Prepared to pop her on the ass for the remark, Finn changed his mind when she obeyed before the last words faded. The long muscles in her thighs shifted beneath pale skin; the ones in her calves tautened.
Her body lowered slowly until the silicone heads almost brushed their destination.
“Wait.” Finn grasped the tallest dildo by the base, holding it upright. It didn't come close to his size, but this wasn't an exercise in stretching her open to see how much she could take. This was a reward and a taste of her newfound fantasy. If she enjoyed it, well, he'd need to have a discussion with himself to see if adding another man to the dynamic, even temporarily, was something he could abide. “Okay, little dove. Nice and slow.”
Black Light: Branded Page 25
