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Brenna smiled. They did indeed have similar tastes. It wasn’t just that though. She loved the look in his eyes, the way he tracked her like he needed, revered her. He gave himself up to her so guilelessly Brenna felt it was her he wanted, not just her technique or her ability to dominate without apology.
When she walked in front of him Rick inhaled and the corners of his mouth quirked up. She paused, let the tresses of the flogger hang down, swished them around in slow, hypnotic circles close to his face, letting him soak in the scent and sound. Then she took a step closer, trailed the flogger down her bare leg. Rick inhaled again, stared at her then strained his neck forward. She tipped her knee toward him, brought her thigh within reach of his mouth and smiled when he kissed her leg.
Something about Rick satisfied her like few subs had. He seemed to bask in her control and she loved having that control over a man. Not all the time but there was such exquisite pleasure in watching her subs accept punishment, accept pain in order to process it as pleasure. Then give that pleasure back to her as mature, considered devotion—even though she’d spanked their ass until she was almost giddy from the rush.
“Hmm. I’m pleased,” she murmured as his lips trailed over her thigh. He nipped gently but it seemed he was trying to draw her back to him, not hurt her. “Very pleased,” Brenna added. She stepped behind him, pulled back on the tresses and let the weight of the flogger sting his right shoulder.
She alternated from man to man, questioned their reactions, increased the strength behind her hits in tiny increments. She let Malcolm climb up to a five as planned, caned him deliberately, held the metal against his skin after every hit to increase the hurt once she’d taken him as far as she intended. He liked pain too much, was too willing to give control away and because she didn’t know him, she wouldn’t trust him to rate his discomfort honestly. Brenna knew she was right to stop increasing the strength behind each strike when Malcolm was trembling, baring his teeth, grinning like he was high and sweating all over even though he claimed he was only at a five. She’d already brought Rick to a seven, let him hover there, loving the way he strained against the ropes, loving the way he groaned yet held himself still for more, loving the way his cock was so hard the head smeared precum on his belly after every lash.
Her body reacted to their endorphin highs with a rush of its own. Her thong was wet with her juices and her breasts felt full, prominent and unnaturally sensitive. Breathing hard heightened her arousal and she trembled from head to foot with excitement before reining it in. Denial went both ways and she responded to a good tease—especially if she was the one doing the teasing—just like her subs did.
Bringing them both back down slowly, Brenna continued to comfort her subs, talk to them, praise and reassure them. In return they nuzzled her hand, looked up at her with glazed adoration, moaned in protest when she untied them.
Malcolm was too busy twisting his head around, admiring the purple stripes across his ass to notice Rick put his arms around her, touch her hair, press his mouth to hers and kiss her deep and passionately. Spearing into her mouth, his tongue found hers, wove around it, licked its length while he gradually increased the pressure of his arms around her. He pulled her leather-clad body into his naked one, laid a hand on the small of her back to bring her belly up tight against his rod.
She let her palm rest on the hot patch of skin high on his shoulder. The other one rested on his ass. His skin was hot there too and knowing how pink it was excited her tremendously. Knowing she shouldn’t, she squirmed against him anyway, letting her belly rub against his hardness.
Rick growled, tore his mouth from hers, licked and nipped her earlobe. “Come home with me. Don’t tell me no this time. Please.”
“No,” she said and smoothed her fingertips over his brow when he lifted his head and scowled down at her. “Both you and Malcolm have agreed to sub for me.”
“And you’ve just scened with him for the first time,” Rick finished for her. He frowned and exhaled deliberately. “All right. For now,” he added firmly. He kissed her again then stepped back. His frown vanished when she began toweling the sweat off his skin.
After she toweled Malcolm off, she got a tube of analgesic cream from the bartender and dabbed it on his stripes. Malcolm watched her with obvious approval, submitted to her every order as she maneuvered his body. She helped both men to dress. Like the last time, she guided her subs back to the bar, made sure they had something cold to drink, monitored them, praised them and, when they’d recovered fully, stood up to leave.
Rick wove his fingers into hers and tugged gently. “We’re buying memberships tonight. Right?” he added, looking at Malcolm pointedly.
“Oh hell yes,” Malcolm replied adamantly then gingerly shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he leaned against the bar. With an ass as bright as his, it’d be a miracle if he could sit in a car for the drive home.
Rick kissed Brenna lightly then released her. “Come this Saturday. At eight if you can.”
When she nodded, Rick flashed her a beautiful smile.
“The three of us in a private room. Okay?”
“Yes,” she answered and didn’t try to hide her anticipation.
Chapter Five
“This way, gentlemen.” The pretty woman wearing the Dungeon Master armband led Rick and Malcolm through the main playroom soon after they’d arrived. Her curvy ass moved nicely inside her fitted leather pants. Rick gave her a cursory glance, appreciated the view but nothing more. As he followed in her wake, he scanned the club for Brenna and was far more disappointed than he thought he’d be when he didn’t spot her right away.
The woman had definitely gotten under his skin.
He and Malcolm nodded to a few of the subs they recognized from their previous visits. The older guy with the gray hair Brenna had talked to briefly that first night stepped into their path.
“Hi. Rick Finley, right?” He held out his hand and smiled.
Rick noticed that the guy’s smile didn’t extend to his eyes.
“Um, yes.” Rick shook the man’s hand perfunctorily. “Have we—”
“Met?” the older man interrupted smoothly. His smile was still broad. His eyes were still cold. “No. I’m on the membership committee. Just wanted to say hello. I’m Harlan, by the way.”
“Harlan,” Rick repeated, nodded politely then looked over at Malcolm. “And this is—”
“Dr. Malcolm Nicholls. Good to meet you,” Harlan interrupted again.
Harlan and Malcolm shook hands as well. The hairs on the back of Rick’s neck were standing up now. Something about this guy was giving him a bad vibe. Normally he didn’t pay attention to foolishness of that kind but something about Harlan felt…predatory. Like he’d been waiting to ambush them. Knew about them, who they were, but gave out nothing about himself other than a first name, a penchant for interrupting and a disdain that was seeping out around the edges of his careful civility. He’d addressed Malcolm as “Doctor” but not Rick. That would irritate the hell out of most physicians. It didn’t bother Rick because he just didn’t have that kind of ego.
“At least you don’t have to drive far to get here.” Harlan turned back to Rick after he let go of Malcolm’s hand. “East York Medical Group, right? Your practice is, what, maybe twenty minutes away? If you take the Parkway?”
“Yes.” Rick knew he’d given his work number as an emergency contact when he’d joined the club. He’d also given his home address but didn’t remember giving them his work address or the name of his clinic. It was a creepy how much this guy knew about him. “And yourself?”
“Oh…” Harlan snorted dismissively then waved his hand. “I’m only a little farther out. Well, enjoy yourselves, gentlemen. Always glad to meet new members.”
With another smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Harlan left.
Rick forgot about him quickly when the Dungeon Master led them into a back hallway, up a flight of stairs then into a room marked Reserved. Inside,
she turned, shot them an imperious look then circled them as if they offended her.
“Your mistress has ordered that you be brought here,” she said in a harsh, commanding tone.
The woman was pretty enough and her body would perk any man up. Despite that, Rick knew he would have found a way to politely refuse if they’d met her instead of Brenna that first night. Like some Dommes he’d met before, she seemed too dismissive of him as a person. Him and Malcolm. Instinctively, he’d find it hard to trust a woman like her to clamp his nuts in a vise—although Malcolm was getting a puppy-like look in his eyes.
The Domme continued in that severe voice, “When your mistress arrives, you are to be naked and standing ready for inspection.” Without another word, she turned and left.
The room was roughly fifteen feet by twenty. The floors were polished wood and the walls and ceiling were painted a red so dark it was almost black. Wall sconces and dimmed pot lights lent sensuality to the atmosphere, saving it from gothic hyperbole. Chains hung from the ceiling and walls, a far cabinet displayed floggers, paddles, single-tail whips, padded cuffs, ball gags and blindfolds. There was a simple, padded table pushed to one side of the room. Brass fasteners recessed into the middle of the floor showed where it usually rested.
“What the hell’s inspection?” Malcolm asked as he unbuttoned his silk shirt.
“Maybe that hands-behind-the-head thing Brenna had us do Tuesday.” Near the door, Rick found a small closet with hangers. He hung up his shirt and toed off his shoes.
“Probably,” Malcolm agreed and took the other half of the closet. “But if we get it wrong, maybe she’ll spank us harder.”
“You really are a pain slut, aren’t you?”
“Lightweight,” Malcolm tossed back with a grin. He ran his hands over his balls, circled the room as of he was on edge then came to stand beside Rick a few paces back from the door, feet shoulder width apart, hands on the back of his head.
“We didn’t tell her what we’d like to try and she didn’t ask,” Rick said with dawning astonishment.
“Yeah, I know. But from what I’ve seen, the lady’s inventive. I like the idea of her working on something special just for us.”
“Huh. You’re right. Now the suspense is killing me.”
They didn’t have to wait long.
Brenna walked in less than two minutes later. Without saying anything she moved toward them, touched their chests, their abdomens, then moved to the room’s heating control and raised the temperature two degrees. She turned back to them.
The way she looked at them made Rick feel hot then cold in turn. Again. He loved the way her face lit up when she saw how he was looking at her. Maybe Malcolm was looking at her as if she was the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world too, but he liked telling himself her eyes shone just a little brighter when she looked at him.
Over the past few days he’d contemplated cutting Malcolm out of these scenes with Brenna. But that wasn’t how they operated. He and Malcolm had gotten into the scene together. Well, they’d made tentative forays into it. They’d read a lot, talked about it, but had always been just that little bit too nervous to do more than dabble. They scened together because it felt safer, it upped the kink factor, and if he was being honest with himself, sharing the experience with a peer kept them from feeling like freaks. Maybe all that would have been different if they’d found the right Domme early on.
Maybe, just maybe, she was with them now.
Brenna circled them, touched their shoulders, caressed their navels, rubbed their triceps and swept her tongue across their tailbones. His balls tightened every time her heels clicked on the floor. Her expression, the soft, feminine sounds coming from the back of her throat told Rick she liked what she saw, liked having the two of them at her disposal. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Malcolm’s cock was getting hard too. He hissed just like Malcolm did when she palmed their scrotums, pulled lightly but deliberately on the testicles inside, eased them down and away from their bodies then held them as if she was judging their weight.
Rick’s left knee trembled but he locked it in place and grinned like a kid at Christmas when the first subtle twinge of discomfort registered alongside the anxiety. Oh yeah. This woman owned him…big time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let a Domme pull on his nut sac, didn’t think he ever had. He trusted her with an idiotic lack of reservation and didn’t even know her last name.
Malcolm growled in obvious frustration when Brenna released them gently.
“I’m pleased to see the two of you as well,” she said, then grinned and stepped back. “What toys did you bring this time?”
Rick produced a paddle and a pair of butterfly clamps out of the pack he’d dropped just inside the door. Last time they’d been together he’d gotten off on her pinching his nipples, and was hoping she’d take him further. He watched Brenna’s face and her quirky little grin when Malcolm opened his pack. Looking as if she was trying not to roll her eyes, she watched Malcolm pull out that nasty metal cane, followed by a studded cock ring, a box of clothespins, a flogger with rubber tresses and a full leather mask with only one opening so he could breathe through his nose.
“You’re so lucky I’m not a psycho,” Brenna said. She shook her head and had them lay their toys out on the padded bench. When they turned back to her she was standing very straight. Her eyes sparkled in the artificial light and she projected a confidence that was as calm as it was intense.
It dawned on Rick she was learning their preferences and fantasies, maybe even their dislikes, by making them provide their own toys. Looking at them objectively, the toys said a lot about each man’s limits…or lack thereof. No Domme had impressed him as much with attention to detail, attention to learning about him as Brenna did. It wasn’t all about him, of course, but if a woman wanted the privilege of beating his ass red, even his devotion, there had to be something in it for him. Denial worked, as Brenna had so aptly demonstrated, and forcing him to be self-disciplined was another thing that brought him back tonight. And to all that she brought beautiful blue eyes, a body that made him so hard he couldn’t think about anything else and skin that smelled more sensual than anything he’d known.
“Rick, stand here. Malcolm, here.” She positioned them in the middle of the room, facing each other, perhaps four feet apart. Using the room’s pulley system, she lowered two sets of chains from the ceiling, attached heavy leather restraints to each chain and bound their wrists.
As his arms were raised over his head, the lambswool lining of the restraints felt comfortable and warm against Rick’s skin. Malcolm’s look of satisfaction caught his eye as his friend yanked on the chains, demonstrating their strength.
The next things Brenna pulled out of the cupboard were two metal spreader bars. Rick held himself still as she fastened a leather strap around one ankle, then the other. The bar forced his legs apart maybe two feet. As she bound him, Brenna’s hand strayed to his calf. She stroked his skin, kissed the side of his knee. When his legs were secured, she moved behind him and bit his ass with enough force to bring him up on his toes.
In front of him, Malcolm’s eyes got real big as he watched Rick’s reaction. Malcolm grinned crookedly and licked his lips as if he couldn’t wait for his turn.
After that Rick stood still, letting the chains support the weight of his arms. He breathed slow and deep, allowing his body to process the ache in his ass as pleasure. When it did, his cock got rock hard, just like Malcolm’s did when Brenna secured a spreader bar to his friend’s ankles. She moved behind Malcolm and he gasped. His head fell back when he groaned—a low, reverberating sound that made Rick ache to see what Brenna was doing. By the twitching of Malcolm’s hips, the demented pleasure on his face and the dribble of precum oozing out the tip of his friend’s penis, Rick figured she had to have her finger in his ass.
Rick groaned too and couldn’t help it. He loved the idea of having his ass played with, loved the sensations but hadn’t met many
Dommes who’d cultivated enough of his trust to let them play with him there. Not a good thing in a sub and women had dumped him for his unwillingness to give it up. They just didn’t get that submission was a process, and nobody should demand he be okay with everything.
“Are you mine?” she murmured in that hot, sultry voice. Rick saw her pink tongue dart out, rim Malcolm’s ear, dip inside in a steady rhythm. Malcolm’s hips rocked in time with the movements of her tongue. Again Rick groaned, sure now that she was playing with his friend’s butt and crazy-hot to feel her do the same to him. “Is this ass mine?
“Answer me,” she demanded and Malcolm hissed. His hips canted to one side. Sweat broke out on his chest and upper lip.
“Yes, Mistress. Yours.” Despite his obvious discomfort, Malcolm grinned drunkenly. “Touch me, please. It’s yours. I’m yours. Fuck,” he hissed again as his abdominals relaxed.
“Hmm. Very good,” Brenna purred. She stepped around Malcolm, trailed her fingertips over his triceps, his underarm, until he gasped, tried to arch away and made a sound that was part pain, part hysteria. “Ticklish?” she taunted, and lifted her hand from him then kissed his jaw. “We’ll have to explore that sometime. If you’re willing.” She kissed Malcolm once more then turned to look at Rick.
His mouth opened as his respiration rate jumped.
Those sharp heels of hers clicked on the floor with unmistakable authority as she moved to the bench. Rick’s mouth opened even wider when she picked up his butterfly clamps. Mesmerizing, artfully made-up eyes held his as she prowled toward him. Her hand felt cool and soft as she stroked his chest. She pinched his nipple between thumb and forefinger, increased the pressure with slow, fiendish deliberation, pulled his nipple out gently, fit the first clamp behind it and started to tighten the tiny screw.
Letting his head fall to the side, Rick concentrated on his breathing, inhaled through his nose, exhaled through his mouth. At first the pressure was exquisite, then tingly, then an ache that made him moan.