by Livia Grant
Tiff made several laps around the block, trying to give him time to call. Eventually, she gave up. Her gut was still sounding alarm bells, but her worry for Lukus overrode her worry for her own safety.
Making sure the car was locked tight, she grabbed her overnight bag and purse before walking down the well-lit stairwell to ground level. As usual, the streets were pretty quiet in this neighborhood at this time of night. She’d have felt better if there were more people loitering around.
Her heart rate accelerated when she realized there were two men walking about half a block behind her, having parked their car in the same garage. She tried to remain calm. They were most likely going to The Pit, as she was. They weren’t necessarily following her.
Regardless, she was almost running by the time she turned into the alley, rushing towards the locked club entrance. She fumbled in her purse for her keycard, wishing she had a pin-pad code instead.
She could hear the men’s footsteps. They were close. She got the door flung open just in time to enter The Punishment Pit, slamming it closed behind her. She let out a shaky sigh, knowing the only way the two men would be able to follow her was if they were Pit members, and if they were, they’d have to be fucking crazy to mess with Master Lukus’s submissive.
She turned down the employee hallway to head to his office but stopped when the door to the alley swung open. The two men stepped into the dimly lit hallway. They scanned the entry, obviously looking for her. With dread, she registered their faces lighting up when they saw her stopped a few feet away.
The tallest spoke to her first. “It is you. We thought you looked familiar.”
Tiffany was surprised they knew her. She was sure Lukus had never introduced her to them before. “Do I know you, gentlemen?”
The shorter, stocky guy snorted an unpleasant laugh. “Rich. We got our asses chewed by Mitchell for letting you into the club floor a few weeks ago. What an asshole, blaming us for putting you in danger and then letting you walk around out in the alley alone at this hour. If I wasn’t afraid he’d revoke my membership, I’d call him out on it.”
His taller friend smiled deviously. “I don’t think so, Joe. Knowing how possessive he is of her, I can only assume he doesn’t know she was out there alone.” He was pinning her with a glare. “I’m right, aren’t I? Lukus would go apeshit if he found out you were just out there alone.”
Tiffany’s panicked facial expression told him his answer.
Stocky man—Joe—was pleased. “Oh, man. This is great. I can’t wait to dish it back at him, the pompous ass.”
“Oh, crap. Please, I’m begging you not to tell him. Please.” Tiffany’s voice was shaky. She knew they were right.
The stocky jerk was moving closer, and she wished she’d have just kept going instead of stopping to talk to them. Lukus was going to be furious when he found out that she not only had been walking in the alley alone, but that she was now, once again, stuck talking to unknown club Doms—and without his collar, that was still upstairs, on. Shit. She was fair game.
Getting back to his office was suddenly more important than bargaining for their silence. Tiff spun around and started to walk down the hall quickly, praying they didn’t follow. She knew she’d dodged a bullet when she heard their taunting laughter at her expense. At least they hadn’t chased her down. Once she got behind another locked door, she stopped to catch her breath and calm down. She didn’t want Lukus to see just how afraid she’d been.
Tiffany made her way along the long hallway, passing by several storage closets and the large walk-in refrigerator. Lukus’s office was at the end of the hall, along with the large backstage dungeon where there was usually a lot of action before and after the shows.
When she got to the opening, she was amazed to find the dungeon empty. It was eerily quiet, until the shriek of a wailing submissive in the process of being walloped on the other side of the door filled the air. From the sounds of it, Derek was taking his job very seriously tonight. Each blistering blow of what sounded like a wooden paddle connecting with bare flesh was followed by heart-wrenching howls of pain. Despite the submissive’s distress, Tiffany found the involuntary clenching of her pussy unnerving. She hated that her body reacted like this to something that her brain told her she should run out and stop immediately.
Hoping Lukus had kept working instead of going out to take in the show, she ducked into his office. She was disappointed to find it empty, and surprised to see his phone sitting on his desk. While that may have explained why he hadn’t been answering, it only angered her more that he wasn’t keeping his phone on him when he should have been expecting her call.
She was halfway across the room to the small elevator she’d use to go to the loft when it hit her. Lukus had never not had his phone on him. Not once since she met him. Even when they were sleeping, his cell was on the bed stand, an arm’s length away.
Alarm bells were going off. She hated that the first reason—the only reason—she could think of as to why Lukus would have left his phone behind was if he were doing something he couldn’t be interrupted in the middle of. Like… no.
He wouldn’t do that. Not without talking to me first. He knows how I feel.
Her breaths were shallow as she mechanically dropped her purse and overnight bag on a nearby chair before turning to walk out to the backstage dungeon. The lingering sounds of the harsh punishment in progress a few feet away filled the space. One small, swinging door was all that separated her from the sobbing woman.
Tiffany paused, trying to think of any other plausible reason Lukus wouldn’t have his phone with him. She was just deciding if she were brave enough to crack the door open to take a peek when it became a moot point. Tears flooded her eyes as she heard the man she loved speaking loud and clear from center stage.
“I think I have your attention now, don’t I, Trisha?” The blubbering reply was too garbled for Tiff to understand what was said, but she wanted to throw her hands over her ears as Lukus continued on with his lecture as the paddle continued to rain down in a fast and furious rhythm.
“I’m so disappointed in you. You could have killed someone with your reckless behavior. You could have killed yourself with your reckless behavior. That is not acceptable, young lady. You are important to me. If you didn’t know it before tonight, then know it now.”
More unintelligible sobbing met Tiff’s ears. Lukus’s betrayal cut her. She had made it clear she didn’t approve of him doing shows. She had promised him she’d try to consider it for the future, particularly if she would be there to watch. But she hadn’t given her approval yet. Worse, she now understood he purposefully tried to hide this from her, thinking she was innocently waiting for him like a fool.
I wonder if he was ever planning to tell me—or was he going to lie when he saw me later?
She knew she should go back to his office and wait for him there. She should cool down so they could talk about this calmly. That was what a good little submissive would do.
Well, fuck being a good little submissive.
Sassy Tiffany wasn’t going to let a man walk all over her. Not even Master Lukus Mitchell.
Taking a deep breath, she went for broke, yanking the door to the stage open several inches. Only when she saw Lukus with his back to her, facing the audience as he stood next to a naked woman, spread wide and tied down to the spanking bench, did she finally believe it was true. She watched as Lukus, her Dom—fuck that—her boyfriend—softly stroked the lower back of the submissive in distress, using the same gentle caresses he used when he tried to comfort Tiff during an intimate spanking.
Lukus didn’t see Tiffany, but the punished submissive staring at her did. Despite the obvious physical pain the sub was in, a sly smile adorned her face when she realized Tiffany was witnessing the intimacy happening between her and the Master Dom.
Tiffany tore her eyes away from the woman to observe Lukus, holding her breath for the moment he would turn to see her. She waited as he stood facing t
he spanking bench, ready to deliver his next punishing strike.
As the crack filled the air, Tiffany’s eyes dropped to take in his profile. She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d known she’d find it there. It was always there during a punishment. It was the main reason she’d continued to request he not do shows.
There was no denying that her boyfriend was standing center stage, in front of a packed house, sporting a raging hard-on, ready to burst out of his too-tight jeans as he paddled another woman’s naked ass. As if on cue, the punished submissive let out a long groan as she dissolved into a powerful orgasm—courtesy of Master Lukus Mitchell.
It was too much. The sob that filled the stage next was not that of the punished submissive, but of a heartbroken Tiffany as she realized her worst fears were coming true.
His eyes snapped back to the source of the sound. She knew him well. It was easy to recognize his surprise, quickly replaced with a crush of guilt. Time stilled as they stared into each other eyes, both not sure what came next. Lukus took action first. Throwing the paddle to the floor, he made his choice. Instead of rushing to Tiffany to explain, he chose to lean intimately over the naked submissive to start releasing her from the spanking bench.
Reality was closing in. Past the loud ringing in her ears, she heard him telling the club that the show was over for the night. Tiff felt faint, and that just pissed her off. She turned, letting the stage door swing closed.
She was tempted to grab her bag and slink out to go lick her wounds, but that would have been too easy for Lukus. If he wanted to dump her, that was fine, but he better damn well have the balls to tell her like a man instead of fucking around on her behind her back.
Lukus Mitchell is about to regret ever meeting me.
The end, for now. To be continued in book five of the Punishment Pit series, Defending it All. Check out this short excerpt.
Lukus
Lukus’s hands were shaking as he worked to unbuckle Trisha from the spanking bench. He was used to having not only Derek, but also Rachel, to help with the show. The thoroughly thrashed sub needed aftercare, but there was no way he was taking the time to comfort Trisha to make sure she came down safely from the intense session they’d just shared.
He felt like a complete ass because he’d been extra hard on her tonight, but he was desperate to get backstage to Tiffany. He was already feeling guilty as hell for leading the show without at least telling her ahead of time. Now, to see Tiff’s look of betrayal as she discovered it in the worst possible way filled Lukus with dread. Regardless, he knew he had a responsibility to see Trisha was okay.
He looked out into the audience pit, only able to make out a few faces in the front rows due to the bright lighting blinding him to most of the large room. He saw Grey’s concern and waved him up to the stage.
Grey and Violet made their way to him. Lukus wasn’t surprised when Violet let him have it. “You’re a top-notch asshole, you know that Lukus? You didn’t even tell her you were doing the show, did you? Don’t lie to me. I saw her face. She’s the best thing that ever happened to you, so you better start groveling, buddy.”
Grey tried to quiet his wife, but he obviously agreed with her sentiment to some degree. “Violet, I suggest you keep your mouth closed. Lukus has his hands full right now. If Tiffany has already left, I’m not going to blame him if he comes looking for you to take out his frustrations.” Turning to his friend he asked, “What can we do to help?”
“I need you to close the curtains, then take Trisha backstage and stay with her long enough to know she’s going to be okay. This was a true punishment, so she doesn’t get any lotion or anything to lessen her pain, but I was hard on her. She needs to be monitored for a while. Can you do that?”
“You bet. I’m getting the better end of this deal. Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”
Lukus didn’t need his friend glomming on. He knew he’d fucked up. At least all this commotion had given his boner time to shrink. He could only pray Tiffany hadn’t seen it. He wanted to be angry with her for coming here without warning, but he knew he couldn’t. This debacle was all on him.
He rushed to his office, praying she was there. He burst through the door to find her standing facing away from him, her shoulders shaking from the sobs wracking her body.
Fuck, I hate to see her cry.
“Tiffany, I can explain.”
She spun around so fast that he was unprepared as she threw herself at him, beating his chest with her fists. “I can’t believe you! You’re a complete asshole, you know that? I can’t believe I actually trusted you!”
He held her tight against his chest, trapping her flailing arms between their bodies as he let her cry out her frustration. She was shaking in his arms, yet his own tension added to their trembling. He knew he needed to take control of the situation, but he wasn’t sure how. He went with complete honesty.
Reaching up to stroke her hair gently, he apologized. “I’m so sorry. I should have called and told you that I had to do the show tonight. Rachel is at the hospital with some pregnancy complications. Derek called at the last minute. It was too late to find someone else to fill in.”
She leaned back enough so he could see her eyes. He took it as a positive sign that she was at least listening to him. “I really hope Rachel is going to be okay, but that doesn’t matter. You know how I feel about you doing the shows. You promised me you would respect my wishes, and the first night we’re apart, you sneak behind my back to do exactly what you promised me you wouldn’t do,” she said.
“What did you want me to do? I already decided today that I’m going to hire a full-time person to take over the shows going forward, but it’s gonna take some time to find someone, damn it.”
“So this was your only option? Really? You couldn’t have canceled the show? Or found another Dom to fill in?”
“Listen, I thought of those things. I did have another Domme fill in during the nine o’clock show, but I couldn’t cancel another show. I already canceled one last night. People are getting pissed off.”
“Oh, well, people are getting pissed off. We can’t have that. Better to piss off me, your supposed girlfriend,” she snapped.
“That’s enough. You need to settle down.”
“No, Lukus. I don’t need to do anything other than get the hell out of here. I can’t believe I was actually worried about you when I couldn’t reach you on your cell phone. Little did I know you were too busy playing with naked submissives to bother answering your phone.”
Lukus’s guilt was receding and was fast being replaced with anger. “You’d better be careful, Tiff. You’re about to cross a line, and trust me when I say you are not gonna want to see what happens when you do.”
“Seriously? You cheat on me and I’m the one crossing the line?” Her voice was incredulous.
“Cheat? What the fuck are you talking about? I was doing my job. Period. In case you forgot, I own this club. A club I named The Punishment Pit for a reason. Members actually pay money to come here to perform and witness punishments.”
“Fine. I get that. It doesn’t mean YOU need to do the damn punishing.”
“Listen. I’ve respected your wishes, and I haven’t done any shows since I met you.”
“Really? So that was a figment of my imagination, seeing you paddling that slut’s ass while she came on stage?”
“First, Trisha is not a slut. She’s a confused woman with a lot of problems. Coming here to The Pit and being punished is part of her recovery,” he said, icily.
“Wow. That’s a new one. Punishment and orgasm therapy. You should market that as your new slogan.”
“All right, that’s enough. You’re out of control. You’ve just earned your very own punishment therapy session, and believe me, you’re not gonna enjoy it.”
“That’s rich. You fucking cheat on me and I get punished. What kind of bullshit is that?”
“I did absolutely nothing that came close to cheating on you tonight. Nothing.”
“Oh, so that raging hard-on you were sporting on stage for everyone to see… that was just for show?”
“Jesus Christ, woman! What the hell do you want from me?” Lukus flailed his arms through the air in frustration.
Tiff shouted back, up in his face. “I want you to admit you were wrong to do the show without at least discussing it with me first. I want you to admit that if I hadn’t come in when I did, you would have pulled that big boy out and fucked her right there on stage.”
Lukus had had enough. “I never would have fucked her. Never. You’re it for me, at least you were until you turned into The Taming of the Shrew tonight. I was doing my job. Period. Something I’ve done hundreds of times before and will do hundreds of times again. It’s business. Derek had to take Rachel to the hospital. There was no time to find anyone else to fill in, so I did what had to be done. And now, I’m going to do what needs to be done as your Dom.”
The end, for now. To be continued in book five of the Punishment Pit series, Defending it All.
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author Livia Grant lives in Chicago with her husband and furry rescue dog named Max. She is fortunate to have been able to travel extensively and as much as she loves to visit places around the globe, the Midwest and its changing seasons will always be home. Livia's readers appreciate her riveting stories filled with deep, character driven plots, often spiced with elements of BDSM.
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