Missing Ink

by E J Frost

  She does. Two very distinct stomps.

  I rub her ass for another moment before stepping back. My shoulder’s still good and loose from the earlier whip cracking, but just to make sure of my aim, I step to the side and crack the whip twice, once on either side of her. She shudders at each crack, but after the second one, gives a clear whinny.

  I slash the whip across her ass.

  Although I’ve used nothing like the force I put into making the whip crack, it lays down a line of red fire across those pale gold cheeks. Her skin ripples with the impact. Her body jolts, muscles tightening and releasing. A strangled groan breaks out of her, but no scream. I move in immediately to press my palm over the mark, feeling the heat burn into my skin. There’s no wetness against my fingers and I sigh with relief. It was a good strike. Now that I’m confident, I can relax into the rush of excitement that tingles through my blood, the pleasure that tightens my balls.

  When Bren whinnies, my cock jerks and leaks in my pants. I bend over her and kiss her trembling shoulders. “Good girl. That’s my good girl. I’m proud of you, girl. So proud. You make me so proud.”

  She shifts under me as she stamps her right foot twice.

  I rub my hands down her back, gentling and praising her the way I would a real horse, before I lean back, open my pants, and feed my cock into her. I fuck her for a few strokes, consumed by my need for this woman, before I pull out and tuck my cock back into my pants, leaving them open, because I’m going to be right back inside her after the next stroke.

  I step back and roll my shoulder to loosen up before I snap the whip across Bren’s ass again, aiming an inch down from the first mark. Her buttocks clench tight as the red line rises across her skin and her back arches, but she immediately relaxes again and instead of a scream, all that comes out of her is a harsh gasp followed by a low moan. I move in again and fuck her for a full minute, running my hands up and down her back, stroking her hips, fingering the two red marks, and reaching around to slap her clit for the last few strokes.

  Bren’s shaking when I step back but her whinny is strong. Sure of both my aim and her pain tolerance, I snap the whip across the roundest part of her ass and before she gets out more than a high bleat, move in to press my hands against the weal. The other marks are spreading now, bleeding into each other. The redness against her skin, the shuddering rise of her ribs as she breathes through the pain, the clench and release of her muscles, even her thick, sweet, buttery scent, it’s delicious. It fills me. Pushes out every bad memory and submerges me in our heated connection. This time, I fuck her until she comes, clenching hot and frantic on my cock as I batter her clit with my fingers, braying through the bit and bucking with each swell of pleasure.

  She slumps against the pillory when I pull out and give her another lash of the whip. Her moan is low and her whinny is weak and I’m sure she wants nothing more than for the scene to be over, but she stays with me, my bold girl, shaking off the hit and straightening her legs before the last strike. Pride swells my chest almost as thickly as pleasure as I lay down the final stripe across the backs of her thighs. It’s a sensitive spot and it draws a garbled howl out of her before she hangs limp against the wooden restraint.

  “Good girl,” I encourage her as I set the whip aside and walk around in front of her. Her eyes are closed and the muscles of her face slack, her cheeks streaked with tears, but when she hears my footsteps, she opens her eyes and blinks up at me. I unclip the bit, wipe her face, and massage her jaw for a moment.

  “Give me a color, girl.”

  “Green, Sir,” she says thickly.

  “As grass?”

  She nods into my hands.

  “Give me one more orgasm, girl.” I kneel in front of her so we’re eye to eye and she can see everything I might not be able to say. “I want that ass.”

  She nods again but I can see she’s flagging. I drink it in. These moments, when she chooses to submit to me despite the difficulty of it, when she has to work against her own will, are the most precious. The ones that really feed the black hole of my soul.

  “That’s my filthy filly. I’m so proud of you, girl.”

  She breaks into a tired version of her bold-girl grin. “Thank you, Sir.”

  I stroke her for another minute, making sure the connection between us is open and strong, before I clip the bit back between her teeth, move behind her, and take out her tail plug. She shivers at the loss. I give her body a minute to close while I roll on a condom, take a bottle of lube and the bottle of hot sauce out of my toy bag and anoint the condom and my fingers. I go light with the hot sauce on the condom but liberal on my fingers. I want my masochist engaged but not agonized.

  I circle the furl of her anus with my tip and see the moment she registers the heat. Goosebumps ripple across her back. She shivers and sways on her hooves. I tease her, pushing my tip in and then easing it out while she huffs through her bit. I feed my cock into her, letting the burn bite deep as Bren wiggles and stamps. Even through the condom, the grip of her sphincter and the heat of her ass are magnificent, drawing a deep groan out of me as I sink in to the hilt.

  I thrust lazily, simply enjoying the sensations, including the sounds of Bren huffing through her bit and stamping her hooves as the hot sauce spreads. Despite her noises, her ass squeezes and squeezes on my cock like she just can’t help herself. My girl loves the bite. The muscles of her buttocks and hips ripple under her silken skin. I stroke her with my clean fingertips and hear her moan.

  I pick up my pace a little, feeling the pressure mounting in my balls, urgency prickling up my spine. Despite her fatigue, Bren keeps pace with me, pushing back into each thrust. I reach around and rub my tingling fingers through her pussy. She squeals. Her ass clamps down so hard it forces a surprised grunt out of me. I’m not going to last long if she keeps that up, but it feels too good to stop. I finger her, spreading the hot sauce over her sensitive tissues, as she howls through the bit and batters my cock with the muscles of her ass. She bucks so wildly the heavy pillory rattles against its moorings, and I hold off my own orgasm only by biting down on my tongue so hard I taste blood.

  When her magnificent contractions fade, I ease out of her, roll off the condom, and walk around in front of her. I unclip her bit and press her chin down with my thumb. “Suck me off, my slutty mare.”

  She looks up at me dazedly but takes my cock without even a whimper. Whether it’s the black-haired sub’s example or purely exhaustion, she takes me all the way to the back of her throat on one long thrust, flicking her tongue stud along the underside of my cock, making my balls tighten like a fist. I gather her dreads in one hand and cup her face with the other while I pump into her hot mouth and clasping throat, groaning with each deep thrust. Bren’s gasps when I pull back and let her breathe are the sweetest music. Her tight throat squeezes my sensitive head over and over, until I’m gasping nearly as loudly as she is. When she sucks hard, her cheeks hollowing, I push all the way into her throat and hold her face pressed to my groin as I unload my balls in burst after burst of utter, ecstatic release.

  When I pull back to let her breathe, I feel her hum and stroke her cheek in appreciation of the enhanced pleasure. When I withdraw further, I realize she’s laughing. I grab a pack of baby wipes off the table between the pillories and clean her face, shaking my head at her. “What’s so funny, bold girl?”

  “Mud yuh creem,” she mumbles.

  I kneel in front of her and massage her jaw while I finish wiping her up. “Try that again.”

  She swallows hard. “Made you scream again, Sir.”

  I cup her chin. “Did you? I was too busy coming so hard my balls turned inside out to notice, girl.”

  A sweet, alto laugh. I lean in and kiss her, swiping my tongue against hers to taste my own musk in her mouth.

  “Ready to be released? Don’t try to stand up yet. Let me help you.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She sounds more with-it moment by moment. My strong girl who bounces back faster th
an I could hope for.

  I unlock the pillory and rub her neck and shoulders until her muscles feel pliant under my fingers before I slide my hands under her shoulders and help her stand. She sways on her hooves and blinks blearily. Looks like a head-rush. I hold her shoulders until she seems steady, then walk her around the pillory and to a free lounge.

  The nearby couches are all full. Logan’s got Emily bent over the arm of one as he fucks her. Wreck’s lying at the top of another with his arm over his eyes while Napa’s sitting at the lounge’s foot with Tiana between his knees, her black curls twisted in his hands as he fucks her face. Javier’s sitting on yet another with his cock still down the black-haired submissive’s throat while he splits his attention between what Napa’s doing to Tiana and Harry, who is still driving his sweaty, stumbling twink around the room with snaps of the devil’s tongue.

  I seat Bren on the lounger and help her out of the pony tack, working from her head down to the zippered hoof-boots. Her heels and toes are bright red as they come out of the boots, so I grab a bottle of almond oil out of my play bag and rub her feet until she’s limp and snoring very slightly as she sprawls naked on the chaise. I wipe off my hands, pull out my phone and take a picture of her, because I want to capture this image forever. Her dusty sapphire dreadlocks tumbled across and over the edge of the sofa. Her colorful skin glistening against the cream padding. The lovely, long curves of her body and the impudent flick of her nose, even with her face lax in sleep.

  I sit down hard on the other side of the couch as emotion smashes through my chest. Different from those painful, tender feelings sitting at Naomi’s bedside, but no less strong.

  I thought I was on top of my feelings about this girl, but in this moment, I realize I’m not.

  “Mac?” Napa, who finished with Tiana while I was rubbing Bren’s feet, seats himself cross-legged on the floor in front of me. That’s an interesting and very non-dominant posture. It immediately gets my attention. “Is now a good time?”

  I scrub a hand over my face, put away my phone, and nod. “Sure.”

  “Call me a nosy old bastard but I heard about how things went down in Jersey.”

  That surprises me. Maybe Harry told him, but if so, I can’t imagine the boys of Rolling Blue would be very happy about Harry’s loose lips. I cut my eyes at the bear Dom, who is still driving his pony-boy around the perimeter of the room.

  Napa chuckles, shifting so he has one leg bent and can rest his elbow on his knee. “Not from Harry. That fucker’s tighter than a virgin on prom night. I’ve got my own sources inside Rolling Blue. Their sergeant at arms has a hard-on for a couple of my boys. Likes to make life difficult, so I keep my eye on them.” He rubs his beard. “Stape’s been known to badmouth me and my boys, particularly with submissives. Scared off a real sweetheart that my road captain was getting serious about. I hope he didn’t say anything to you or your girl.”

  “No, he didn’t,” I say honestly. “Since you’re not wearing your cuts and Harry hasn’t mentioned you by name before, I don’t actually know which club you’re with.”

  Napa chuckles again. “There I go, figuring everyone knows my business before I open my mouth. Wreck and me are Oidhri.”

  The Heirs, or by their full name, the Heirs of Brian Boru. A Celtic riding club, allied to the Outlaws but not, themselves, one-percenters.

  I nod. “I’ve heard of you.”

  Napa grins, showing polished white teeth between the fringe of moustache and beard. “Anything good?”

  “Well,” I allow. “Nothing particularly bad. I know who you’re affiliated with, though, and I don’t want anything to do with those bad boys.”

  Napa’s grin doesn’t fade. “We’ve been out of their pockets for a while now. Cut ties with those republican boys, too.”

  He’s not talking about the GOP, but rather the Real IRA. Another group of lawless fuckers I want nothing to do with, whether or not they’re from my grandfather’s country.

  “Good to hear.”

  “I know your background, Mac. I know how long you’ve served our country. Harry says you’re a patriot down to your bones. That’s who Oidhri are now. Wreck there.” Napa tips his head at his VP who is still lying on the couch with his arm over his eyes, only now Tiana’s snuggled up beside him under a blanket, her pony gear in a pile on the floor. “Former Ranger. Three tours in Afghanistan. That’s where he got that memento.”

  Napa draws his finger down his cheek to indicate Wreck’s scar.

  “After he came home, he hit the bottle pretty hard for a couple of years. Got himself a DUI conviction. Walt and his pack of assholes tossed him out. Hard thing to do to a brother.”

  I nod. I’ll admit that rule bothered me, too. The idea of turning my back on one of my men is anathema. If Rolling Blue had asked me to do it, I don’t think I could have, any more than I could turn my back on Brenna.

  “What Wreck and me are building now, it’s about brotherhood. It’s about sharing our love of our hogs, our families, our heritage, and our freedom. We don’t have a million rules like Walt and his boys. We’re not gonna tell you where you gotta live. We don’t give a fuck about what you’ve done in the past as long as you’re straight now.” He nods at Bren’s sleeping form. Fuck, he does have good intel. And Rolling Blue is leaking like the fucking Titanic. “And we never, ever leave a man behind.”

  “I like the sound of that,” I say.

  “Then come and meet us. Stay the weekend. We’ll have a barbeque for you on Sunday—”

  He breaks off when I start shaking my head.

  “Not this weekend. I will take you up on that offer, but not this weekend. My daughter’s in rehab and she’ll be allowed visitors this weekend. I need to go see her.”

  Napa nods. “Family first. You want company going to see her?”

  The genuine niceness of his offer makes me pause. Normally, I’d say no. She’s my daughter, my business. I haven’t asked Logan or Manny or Max to come with me and I wouldn’t. Naomi’s my problem.

  But being part of a brotherhood means sharing your problems. Accepting help. Trusting your brothers to have your back.

  “I would,” I say slowly, feeling my way into it. “I was planning to ride up to Poughkeepsie on Saturday afternoon and stay overnight somewhere. Visit with my daughter on Sunday.”

  “Sounds good. Riverside Drive’s a little outta the way but a nice route. I know a place to stop for dinner if you’re up for that. Seafood. It’s not fancy, but it’s good.”

  “My kind of place,” I agree. “Harry said you’re upstate, but he didn’t say where.”

  “You’ll be right in our backyard. Clubhouse is in Newburgh. Barely outta your way if you want to stop on the way back.”

  I like his approach. He’s direct without pushing.

  “Let me make sure Bren doesn’t need to rush back.” I glance at my sammie, but she’s still out for the count. “If she doesn’t we’ll take you up on that. I’d like to meet your brothers.”

  “Good.” Napa slaps his knee and pulls out his phone. “Let me have your number and we’ll keep in touch in case your plans change.”

  I give him my number and my phone pings with a text. I save his contact details and create another contact when he reels off Wreck’s number as well.

  “If you think Brenna might want to talk with Tiana, you know, before or after, just call. Tiana can put her in touch with some of the other old ladies, too. They’re all in the lifestyle. Everyone in the club is. We tried mixing, but—” He shakes his head woefully. “It didn’t work out. Secrets corrupt a club from the inside out. Having some in the lifestyle and some not, it created too many secrets. So now everyone’s in. Not everyone’s as active as we are, but they all understand it. You won’t find any of the kind of attitude you might have gotten from the blue boys who aren’t in.”

  I didn’t actually feel any condemnation of the lifestyle from the Rolling Blue brothers, but I also wasn’t sure who was and wasn’t in it. There’s some
thing comfortable about knowing that everyone in the Heirs is in.

  “Makes things simple,” I say.

  Napa nods. “And you know that all club events are lifestyle events. There’s no guessing. Makes for a more open environment. If I hadn’t seen your scene today, I’d have warned you that you might see some things at the clubhouse that might surprise you, but in comparison to this place?”

  He grins. I echo it back to him. Blunts is outside my realm of experience, too, and I’ve been in the lifestyle for over thirty years.

  “I’m still getting used to this.” I glance at Bren again, checking on her, but also appreciating the glorious debauchery of having a naked woman I just fucked in every hole comatose on a couch beside me in a room full of just-fucked, naked people. “But it ain’t half bad.”

  Napa laughs. “No, it ain’t. Not to crash your party, but you got plans for tonight?”

  “Nothing big. Bren’s going out for drinks with some of her friends at a bar near here, so I was going to stay near the club and meet up with her afterward. No scenes tonight if she’s drinking, though.”

  “Yeah, absolutely.” Napa holds up a broad, calloused hand in agreement. “Harry said there’s some fancy pool hall near here. We were going to go after dinner. Shoot a few frames.”

  “It’s snooker,” Logan grumbles from a nearby chaise, where he’s collapsed with Emily cuddled to his chest and is, evidently, eavesdropping. “Why do Yanks always have so much trouble with this?”

  “’Cause we’re not pretentious fuckers,” I grumble back. To Napa, I say, “That sounds great. Dinner and fancy pool it is.”

  Chapter 13

  The Sub Crawl starts badly but gets better.

  When I walk into Chicklets, the bar where the Sub Crawl starts every week, the first person I spot is Briar Rose. She’s watching the door with her big blue eyes. When she sees me walk in, she flips her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and swivels on her stool, turning her back on me. I’ve never been able to cope with Briar’s particular brand of bitch and that she went after both Ten and Rob after I gave up on anything real with them ensured I’d never think of her as anything but an enemy. That she’s best buds with Rachel, Logan’s former subbie and Queen of the Demonbitch Pits, only makes her more unlikeable.