by Livia Grant
“I’ll try, Sir. Sometimes my head gets in the way.”
He chuckled. “Hmmm, tell me something I didn’t already know.” Getting more serious he added, “Try to turn off the brain and just let your body find its pleasure. Don’t be afraid of the pain. Lean into it. Turn it into pleasure. And if it does get too much, just say yellow. Can you do that?”
“I’ll try, Sir.”
Just like when he was backstage preparing for one of the hundreds of shows he’d done over the years, Lukus took his own advice, letting his dominance push everything out of his own brain, leaving only Master Lukus remaining. He took a few deep breaths, getting into the right head space before pushing to his feet. Reaching out to grab the leash hanging from Tiffany’s collar, he barked his first order.
“Strip, sub. The only thing I want to remain on your body is my collar and your wedding ring; the two things that show my ownership of you.”
He yanked on the leash to add an urgency to his command. Tiffany scrambled to her feet, but then slowly started to take the small scraps of fabric she’d been wearing off. She was stalling, but he didn’t mind waiting since every patch of clothes that came off heightened her anticipation. Her nipples were already hard and protruding, enhanced by the crusty and dried cum he’d left behind on the swell of her boobs hours before.
Once she was naked, he yanked the leash and pulled her towards the waiting bench. Maxim had made fast work of securing a naked Fyre to her bench and was now waiting for Lukus to be ready to start as well.
She didn’t go easily, forcing him to bark commands every step of the way. “Kneel,” brought her knees to the leather padded ledges towards the bottom of the piece of furniture. “Lean forward,” had her laying her chest and stomach against the padded leather top that would support her torso. The command she took the longest to obey was, “Hands forward on the grips.”
Within a few minutes he had secured her wrists, ankles, and waist with the leather belts that would hold his sub immobile. Knowing how she felt about this, Lukus leaned down to tease Tiff against her ear. “Since our very first night together, you’ve always loved being restrained, haven’t you, sub?” When she didn’t answer, he added a stern, “You love being forced to take whatever I dish out, don’t you? This way you get to pretend you’re still that innocent little girl you always want to be. If I make you do all of the dirty things your luscious body craves, you can blame me. You still try to deny that you love it when I paddle your ass until you beg me to fuck you, or when I shove my cock in your ass so hard and long that it gapes…”
Her breathy, “Oh, God…” told him she was slipping deeper into her submission.
“Time to start the scene, baby. Be sure to show everyone how gorgeous you are when you scream and cry.”
He grinned as he saw her full-body shiver. When he finally stood over her and checked out the other half of the stage, he found Maxim watching intently—his arms crossed over his chest.
It seemed both men were using this chance to learn more about the other.
“Ready, gramps?” the younger Dom taunted.
“Ready, asshole. You do know I’m only thirty-five, right?”
Lukus wondered if Maxim was doing it intentionally or if he was just a natural, but as soon as Lukus had turned around, Max had started talking louder—projecting his voice across the music and chatter of the other club members. Lukus felt all eyes in the stage area on them, people crowding in closer.
Instead of backing down, Maxim grinned, upping their little pissing contest. “What’s next? You gonna share your favorite color?”
“It’s black and blue, the color your face is gonna be if you don’t shut the fuck up.”
“So, let’s do this,” Max added. “You got me here. Lay down the rules.”
“Simple. We can use any impact implements available to us on our sub’s bodies. No skin-to-skin connection, though. That includes fingers, mouths, and especially cocks. First one to push our sub into an orgasm wins.”
“Is that all? I thought it was going to be something hard,” Max said with much bravado.
Reaching into his duffle, Lukus came out with his leather flogger. Stepping into position, he landed the first light strike to Tiffany’s milky-white ass before adding. “Get to work, junior.”
Knowing how important it was for his wife to slowly build into her submission, Lukus started at a warm-up pace, while Max skipped anything that might be considered light weight and went straight to a wide wooden paddle. Not a bad choice for a pain slut since anything too light would be wasted on Fyre. If what Tyler had said was true, only the bite of agony would push her towards a climax.
Lukus and Max fell into a rhythm for the first several minutes. Lukus kept a pretty steady swish of Tiffany’s favorite flogger marking from her shoulders down to her knees, painting a rosy pink hue across her entire backside.
Meanwhile, Max provided a masochist’s warm up to Fyre’s ass, one hard swat with the wooden paddle about every ten seconds, changing sides and angles to make sure he laid a layer of heat to his sub’s bottom.
While the implements were drastically different in severity and heat level, it was music to Lukus’s ears that the two women were each making similar cooing moans as they slipped deeper into the power exchange dynamic.
Just as Lukus decided warm-up time was over, he glanced up to see Maxim finish a swat and then look his way. The guy had his pacing down, while also displaying a natural instinct for the showmanship of playing at a club. Without a word of coordination, only an almost unnoticeable nod his way, both men walked to their own bags of tricks. Max traded the wood paddle in for a long leather Dragon-tail whip, one of the harshest whips in the Dom toy box.
Lukus had only used one on his now wife once, and it was one of the few true punishments he’d delivered to one very sorry Tiffany. Here, tonight, he decided to step up the fun by commanding his wife, “Eyes.”
Tiffany had to struggle to lift her head while secured in her current prone position. He adored how her long, blonde hair was all askew from being upside down. There was a nice pink in her cheeks to match the rose of her butt. Once he had her attention, he slowly undid his belt buckle, pulling the two-inch worn leather quickly out of his pant loops, taking extra care to let it flick loud enough to give his wife a preview of what was coming.
As soon as he folded the belt in half, making sure the buckle was secured as to not hurt Tiff, she let her head drop to await the first bite of leather.
Lukus looked up to check on Max and saw him adjusting the angle of his sub’s bench so the crowd would get a better view. He then nodded before laying down the first line of fire across Fyre’s ass. This time, it was Max who did a quick triplet of three slices of the tail across skin before pausing to let Lukus deliver a trio of belt lashes, each about a half-inch apart, across Tiffany’s ass.
It was time for the ladies to take their different paths. Fyre remained stoic, moaning lightly as she wriggled her ass as her welcome to the pain. Tiffany on the other hand released a cute squeak as each lash landed.
Back and forth the men worked, varying their strength and spreading the heat across their sub’s bodies with Max showing Fyre’s breasts some attention with his Dragon-tail. It was around the third strike to her tit that the masochist finally released her first cry out, matching the louder protests from Tiffany. While both women were slipping deeper into the scene, neither was close to orgasm… at least not yet.
Max made the decision when it was time to move to another implement, and Lukus followed his lead. As he put his belt back on, he contemplated his next move. He’d known when he suggested the scene that it would be a long shot for Tiffany to come without any stimulation to her clit, but the crowd of club members growing in front of the stage didn’t know that. A quick look into the dimness showed the members having a good time, just as he’d wanted.
Sticking with their escalation plan, Max produced a rattan cane for his next implement. It was a punishment tool he wo
uld never use on Tiff. Instead, he pulled his own wooden paddle out of his bag. It was his actual pledge paddle from his fraternity days at Northwestern University. The only change he’d made was to drill a half dozen small holes in the wood to up the bite level.
He was careful not to let Tiffany see what was coming, knowing the anticipation was one of her favorite parts of the lifestyle. Before starting, he used his best Dom command voice to let his naughty sub know, “You’ll take twenty of the next one, Tiff. You’ll count.”
He grinned at her groaned complaint. “I hate to count… Sir.”
“I know, that’s why I make you do it. Make it loud so the huge crowd watching can hear you.”
He was an asshole. He knew it, but he couldn’t help it. Tiff pulled on her bindings, subconsciously trying to get free so she could cover herself from prying eyes.
No more warming up. His first strike with the paddle was a bullseye, covering the center swath of both butt cheeks in one swat. Her breath hitched—almost frozen—for several long seconds before a long scream shook the club. To his sadistic self, the shriek was like hearing his favorite song. That side of himself now warred with the newer protective husband faction of his brain, keeping him strangely off balance.
Meanwhile, on the other half of the stage, Maxim had finally got the first cries of pain from Fyre as he laid down three welts across the underside of her heavy breasts. Back and forth they went, each man driving their captive deeper into their submission.
She’d been shedding quiet tears almost since they’d started, but it was around her eighth paddle that Tiffany broke down crying, begging for him to stop. Between counting and words like stop, no, and please, Lukus listened for the magic words—yellow or red. They didn’t come.
Fyre, was tearful too, but the words she was shouting were yes, more, and harder, so Maxim obliged her. About every five cane strikes the Dom stopped to inspect his handiwork, moving to cane a new part of her body if it seemed he was close to breaking open her skin.
It was around the fifteenth paddling to his wife’s ass that Lukus realized how stupid his bet had been. His dick was semi-hard before they’d even started. It was now rock hard and getting squeezed in his too-tight jeans. The wetness dripping down Tiff’s inner thighs called out to him, begging him to bury himself inside her. Unfortunately, he knew the only way he could make that happen was to let this little pissing contest he’d setup with Maxim run its course.
Tiffany’s ass was blotchy and in danger of bruising by the time he finished the twenty he’d planned for her. Taking a short break to check in on her, he lifted her face. It took every ounce of his self-control to keep from kissing her. Her teary eyes, smeared mascara, and running nose made Tiffany his epitome of perfection.
“Christ, I love you,” he said, swishing her messy hair back from her face enough to pull his hankie out. “Blow for me.”
Behind him Fyre’s screams had morphed to X-rated moans of pleasure. Maxim had her flying high in subspace, spacing out the cane welts to keep her floating there.
He was just deciding what implement to use next when behind him he heard Maxim’s shouted command. “Come for me… Now!”
Lukus spun, checking to see if the younger Dom had cheated and touched his sub, but what he found was the picture of a Master Dom, wringing a screaming orgasm from a submissive he’d never played with before. Max raised his gaze to give Lukus a victorious glare. Little did the guy know, there was no way Lukus could have lost tonight. He couldn’t care less if he lost to Max in the bet. All he cared about was winning the long game—getting the asshole to say yes to moving to Chicago.
Once again, a smattering of applause broke out as Max started to release Fyre, wrapping her in what looked like a robe with the Black Light logo on it, and then carrying her off to one of the cooling rooms. Some of the members started to disperse, but when Lukus didn’t bother to unbuckle Tiffany yet, others stayed close.
He used the time Max was away to move on to more intimate activities with his wife’s prone body. Alternating between hand spanks to her ass and slipping fingers through her wet slit before shoving fingers into her cute little rosebud, he worked on amping Tiffany’s pleasure until she was the one calling out the yes, more, and harder words Fyre had used before.
It took all of his self-control to wait for Max to return to the stage for Lukus to move on with his plan. For the first time, he saw an uncertainty on Maxim’s face as he tried to figure out if they were still in their bet.
Lukus made it easy for him after Tiffany started begging him to fuck her when he’d been edging her higher. Wanting to please his bride, Lukus unzipped his pants and let his heavy cock spring free. He felt a brief moment of euphoria at the pressure release, but lust flowed through his veins, demanding its due.
She couldn’t see him from her vantage point, so he used the element of surprise to quickly slide the tip of his dick through her pussy lips for a quick second before lunging his hips forward and plunging inside his screaming wife. He’d left her restrained for a reason. She was at his mercy as he pounded her hard and fast. He used no finesse or elegance. While they loved each other deeply, what was happening in front of the crowd of strangers was a rutting, plain and simple.
He chased his own orgasm, letting the cries of pain and pleasure from his submissive stoke his excitement higher. The only thing that would stop him would be a safeword, and he knew that would not be coming.
Movement to his peripheral view distracted him, causing him to lose his rhythmic thrusts for just a second, but recognizing that Maxim was now only a foot or two away from the splayed Tiffany made Lukus freeze. The asshole had the nerve to unzip his own pants and whip out that long erection he’d put on display earlier.
Lukus’s brain raced to rerun their discussion before the scene. He’d made it clear the asshole wasn’t to touch her, right? Look, but not touch.
Maxim grinned as he started to slowly jack himself off center stage. “Don’t get your undies in a bunch. I won’t touch her.”
Satisfied, Lukus rammed his shaft back into Tiffany’s pussy, surging into her again and again until he felt his own climax coming. Knowing how to literally push her buttons, he grabbed onto the spanking bench’s frame and lifted the end up several inches. He worked out hard, but even he wouldn’t be able to hold up the weight of the bench and his wife for long, but he knew he wouldn’t need to. All Tiff needed to detonate was a slight change of angle. As soon as the tip of his dick started pounding into her G-spot, she went off like a firework, screaming his name in one long cry of pleasure.
He wasn’t far behind her, shooting his wad deep inside her pussy. Like a caveman, he’d enjoy making her walk back upstairs to their suite with his cum dripping down her inner thighs.
Tiffany’s last contractions were squeezing his deflating cock when Maxim took another step closer to the still-joined couple in front of him. The asshole’s strokes on his own dick were now coming fast and furious. His breath started coming in short bursts just as the first spurt of white cum shot out, splattering all over Tiffany’s back and ass.
Conflicting emotions fought for attention in Lukus’s sex-overloaded brain. The asshole hadn’t touched her, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Max had marked Tiffany in an even more intimate way. Just as he was tempted to rage at the asshole for his audacity, the sound of the crowd’s cheers and clapping of approval worked its way in. Taking his husband hat off for just a minute and putting on his Master Dom hat, Lukus recognized the heat level of the scene they just presented was off the charts.
Damn if the asshole isn’t Goldilocks.
He should wipe the offending spunk off his wife. God knows he wanted to. Instead, he pulled his softening dick out of her snatch and then barked his next order—this time directed at Maxim.
“Don’t just stand there. Rub it in. She’ll wear it until I let her shower upstairs.”
For a few seconds it looked like the guy didn’t trust Lukus not to deck him if he touched T
iffany. Something in Lukus’s expression must have convinced him because a few seconds later Max reached out to gently massage his jizz across Tiffany’s back.
An awkward silence fell for a few long seconds before Lukus took charge again. “Help me get this mess cleaned up while I tend to my sub. Then let’s go to the bar. I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Fine, but fair warning. I only drink top-shelf shit,” Maxim cautioned with an arrogant grin.
He chuckled before answering truthfully. “Is there any other kind?”
Chapter Nine
Lukus
The clock behind the bar flipped to midnight as Lukus leaned against the wall just outside of the Ladies’ Locker Room. He’d sent Tiff in with strict instructions not to shower, but she’d been in there long enough that he was getting worried.
“I see you’re making some new friends,” a voice said behind him.
“Hey, Elijah.” The men shook hands before Lukus pressed him. “What can you tell me about the guy?”
“Not much. This is only his second month of membership. As friendly as he is outwardly, he’s actually pretty zip-lipped with personal details. But hell, he’s no worse than half the members. I’ll tell you this, he passed our background check. That’s all I care about.” Elijah paused before adding, “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Lukus grinned before adding, “Probably.”
“You could do worse. Just do me one favor. If he says yes, you have to give him the nickname of Master Goldilocks. You can tell him I said so.”
“Ha! Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We have a few hurdles to get through first.”
He was just about to ask Elijah to send in a woman employee to check on Tiffany when the door opened and an exhausted looking Tiff came out, wrapped in one of the Black Light robes.
Elijah teased her. “I see you’ve had some fun tonight, Mrs. Mitchell, but it looks like it’s past your bedtime.”
Lukus agreed with the Dungeon Master. “Let me give you the keycard. You can head up now and get some rest. I’ll get one of the DMs to get me up in the elevator and in our room later.”
