Fighting for Control Ari Thatcher Part of the 1-800-DOM-help series.
Brad and Marc want to convince their coworker Lori to join them in a BDSM threesome, with the help of a mysterious service for D/s relationships. They arrange a scene in a club where they’ll wear masks, so they can convince her she enjoys the experience without putting their work relationship complications into the mix. But Lori’s not sure she can be that submissive, especially to guys she knows and works with. Boy, is Lori in for a surprise when she discovers her own desires.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Fighting for Control ISBN 9781419934513 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Fighting for Control Copyright © 2011 Ari Thatcher Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky Cover design by Syneca Electronic book publication November 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.
FIGHTING FOR CONTROL Ari Thatcher
Fighting for Control
The Magic The magic begins with the appearance of the business card. Sleek black print on a pristine white background—unassuming in its appearance. Those brave enough to call the number will begin a journey that will explore their greatest desires. Once the call is made, the Operator goes to work. Somehow he knows just what every caller needs, always able to find the answer the caller seeks. Callers may be directed to Unfettered, a new club in town, one nobody has heard of. It provides a safe haven for all who enter. Members are free to explore their every desire…even those they weren’t aware of. Little do they know Unfettered will disappear once those yearnings have eased. Submissives who don’t know how to handle their Dominants. Masters looking for the perfect sub. People who need just a little push to admit vanilla isn’t their favorite flavor. The card finds them all. And once you dial 1-800-DOM-help, anything can happen.
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Chapter One The door closed behind them, shutting out the noise of the bar inside Blackie’s Dominion. Brad Collins followed his buddy Marc Quinn into the packed parking lot. “I still think we can find a way to get her to go out with us, or at least one of us. It’d be a start, and we could find out if she’s open to a threesome.” “There’s no evidence she dates at all, and there’s no way she’d date a coworker.” Marc checked his cell phone messages as he walked. “But, fuck, she’d be such an awesome submissive.” Marc looked at him as if he’d grown another head. “We are talking about Lori, right? Lori Meadows, Glacial Queen of the graphic media department? Dude, did somebody spike your drink? I’m surprised she hasn’t pulled out a whip at the office. She’s pure Domme, although she probably doesn’t know it. I’d love to get together with her, but we need to leave the Dom/sub stuff out of it. And I really doubt she’d be interested in a threesome.” Brad licked his lips as he pictured Lori. Tall, curvy, one hundred percent unadulterated woman. Her red hair, cut short in a trendy bob, had him convinced there was a fire burning inside her. She had a few years on either of them, although he wasn’t sure how many. He preferred his women experienced, grounded. And subservient. He was certain under her designer suits she wore lace and silk, and he was determined to find out. “Strong women make the best subs.” “The most challenging, maybe, but I bet she’ll laugh you out of her cubicle if you suggest it.” Pushing the unlock button on his keychain, Brad walked around to the driver’s door of his little red convertible while Marc got in the passenger side. As Brad reached for the handle he noticed a business card sticking up from the doorframe. Where he 6
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would normally toss aside anything left on his car as if it were email spam, he was drawn to read this one. 1-800-DOM-help. “Hey, get this.” He handed the card to Marc as he climbed in. “What’s this? Phone sex? I thought that went out with the dawn of internet video chat.” “It sounds like a helpline.” Brad pulled out into traffic on the boulevard and made his way across to the left turn lane. “Are you saying we need help with our subs?” “Well, we are going home before midnight on a Friday night. But I was thinking of just one sub in particular. Ms. Meadows.” Marc’s bark of laughter filled the car, drowning out the engine’s purr. “I told you, she won’t go for anything kinky even if you got her out on a date. Her sex life is probably vanilla, with her Domme instincts struggling to break free. Be prepared to spend time on your back if you succeed in getting her into bed. And probably on your knees to get her there in the first place.” He tossed the card onto the center console. “Don’t lose it,” Brad said. “I want to call and find out what it’s about.”
Marc listened to his friend’s plan but didn’t see it ever coming about. Brad had always been the dreamer of the two. Marc was a realist. As often as Lori showed up in his fantasies, he knew they were just that—fantasy. Three years ago, he had hired on at Miller, Grayson and Greer, where Lori and Brad worked, and he had long-range plans to remain there. Trying to get a scene going with Lori could easily fuck up his career path. He’d been a little surprised to run into Brad at Blackie’s not long after they’d met, the first time he recalled ever meeting anyone from his outside life inside the club. But members were known for their discretion, and neither man mentioned the connection.
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One night, at the request of another Dom, he and Brad had shared their first sub. They discovered they worked well as a team, and the resulting sex with one woman between them had been fucking over the top. Threesomes were something he’d heard about but never imagined trying. He was very possessive, so the thought of some other guy messing with his woman was far from appealing. But something clicked when he and Brad worked together with that first sub, and the many they’d met after through Blackie’s. But they’d never met the one woman they wanted to have a relationship with, except in their fantasies about Lori. Marc was set in his ways and saw no reason to change. But he wasn’t going to force anyone to play by his rules. As much as he’d love to explore Lori’s likes and dislikes outside the office, he knew there was nothing to gain in the long run. Mixing work and D/s pleasure was never a good idea. And as an advertising agency, Miller, Grayson and Greer was all about good ideas. He caught up to Lori as she was getting ready to leave Tuesday night. “You’ve been quiet this week. Has Mr. Riggs been riding your ass worse than usual?” Lori laughed. “Worse? No. He’s always been consistent in that department.” Opening the building door, he let her pass through into the cool evening air and helped her put on her jacket. “That’s got to be hard on you. I know you take a lot of the guff for the department and it’s not fair to put it all on you.” She shrugged. “I’ve been in the department the longest, so I guess he’s gotten used to dumping on me.” Grinning, he grabbed her briefcase so she could dig more easily into her huge purse. “So come join us for a drink at Blackie’s.” She stopped, peering up at him from behind her long, side-swept bangs. “I never know what to make of you, Quinn. Brad does most of the talking in planning meetings so I can’t tell when you’re joking. I really doubt the art department is getting together for drinks at a BDSM club.”
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So, she knew the club. That surprised Marc. “No, not the department, just me and Brad. Come have a drink and we’ll talk about how fun it would be to put Mr. Riggs on the rack.” Holding her keys after locating them, she looked at her car and back at Marc, as if trying to decide, then shook her head. “You’re crazy. I’m up for review next month. Do you know what being seen in a place like that would do to my chances of a promotion?” “The members of Blackie’s are very discreet. You’d be surprised at whom you might see there.” She bit her lip and Marc’s pulse sped. She was really considering it. He never would have guessed it might be that easy to open the door on the subject. When she shook her head again, he was more than a bit disappointed. Opening her car door, she offered him a smile. “I can’t take the chance. See you tomorrow.” Marc drove home, heated some dinner, and was surfing through the sports channels when Brad’s name showed up on his caller ID as the phone chimed. “Hey, what’s up?” “I called that 800 number,” Brad said. “And I asked around at Blackie’s. It appears to be a legit service offering to connect Doms and subs with screened partners, or help established couples work out problems in their lifestyles.” “Are you going to find yourself a sub?” “I’m going to try to find us one. Lori.” “Good luck with that. I asked her to come to Blackie’s for a drink this evening and she said she couldn’t be seen anywhere like that.” Brad laughed. “I should have known you’d take the direct line of approach.” “For as much good as it did.”
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“Now we’ll try my way. We don’t have to push her into the extreme fetish stuff, but I think bondage with some flogging would allow her to hit subspace. Once she did, she’d realize what she’s been missing.” Marc listened to Brad’s plan, even if his initial idea sounded too simplistic. It couldn’t hurt to leave the card where she would find it. Her curiosity might get her to call. But Marc doubted they’d ever see her on the receiving end of a flogger.
***** By Wednesday morning, Lori was ready for the weekend. Her boss, Mr. Riggs, the senior VP of graphic media, was apparently not getting enough fiber in his diet and transferring his pain to her ass. He wasn’t excited about the sport shoe account and was less than thrilled with the energy drink ideas being tossed around. And he absolutely hated the layout she and the guys had created for the 3D war game’s website. That last one had him hinting at moving her to the women’s apparel catalog department. Women’s apparel. That sucked! He might as well just give her a rocking chair. At forty-two, she wasn’t ready to focus on women’s foundation garments even if she had begun to consider buying some after eyeing her reflection in the mirror each morning. There was no way she would give up on gaming media. Her ideas were as good as those suggested by the younger artists. Half the time she and Brad had similar thoughts on a new project. Kaylee—who was barely out of diapers, for God’s sake—loved some of the suggestions Lori came up with. Age wasn’t the issue. Or maybe Mr. Riggs’ age was the problem. But suggesting that would get her a ticket straight to women’s wear. The department needed a marathon planning session to see what they could come up with. Entering her cubicle, Lori dropped her purse in the bottom desk drawer and picked up the stack of messages sitting in front of her monitor. Taking a sip from her fat-free
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latte, she sank into her chair and glanced at the first message before dividing them into piles of “call now”, “delegate” and “trash”. A third of the way in, she found a plain white business card with nothing but a phone number on it. 1-800-DOM-help. Really? She doubted DOM stood for domestic. Was this Marc’s idea of a joke? Who else would leave a card for a BDSM club on her desk? Was he really trying to get her to participate in a kinky scene? She snorted softly and tightened her lips. What some people went through in the name of sex! Her roommate in college had a Master/slave relationship with an older man she’d met in a club. The young woman’s eyes would glaze over at the mention of his name, as if that name alone brought her close to ecstasy. Lori wasn’t against toys and role-playing. Even an occasional spanking. One guy she’d been with had been into flogging. She had to admit sex had been pretty good with him. But it had always happened in the privacy of their bedroom, or kitchen or wherever. She couldn’t imagine having sex in front of an audience, not with her body showing its age. There was no way she’d let a stranger tie her up and do whatever he wanted, either. What about what she wanted? There was little point in having sex if it didn’t meet the needs of both people involved. Still, the thought of sex with Marc—or Brad, for that matter—filled her fantasies as often as celebrities did. They were both young and hot and perfect fantasy fodder. Something about the way they were always laughing really turned her on. She could summon up that sound, their rich, sexy laughter, when she was masturbating and amp up the heat. As she reached to toss the card in the wastebasket, someone spoke behind her. “Good morning, Lori. Anything exciting to start us off today?” Brad’s smooth-as-rumand-ginger-ale voice sent shivers down her spine. 11
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“Here, this ought to get your mind in gear.” She handed him the card before realizing what he’d think. Her grab for it was too late as he swung his hand out of reach. “Whoa, is this an invitation?” Brad parked his hip on the corner of her desk as he studied the card. Lori reached for the card. “Yeah, right. Somebody left it with my messages.” Marc entered the doorway of her cubicle, filling it with both his body and his warrior-god presence. He was much quieter than his friend, but she couldn’t help but notice him when he was around. Notice him and drool a bit. “What’s up?” Brad held out the card. “Lori’s found a new playground.” “It’s not mine,” she argued. “I’m sure one of you is behind its being here. Feel free to take it with you.” “Maybe we should check it out together,” Brad offered. She raised a brow and looked at him. He had to be joking. She was half tempted to play along, but that kind of gossip was the last thing she needed broadcasted around the water cooler. She waved a hand for them to leave. “Yeah, you two go check it out. But not until we’ve fixed the sports drink project. Riggs is already bitching about it this morning.” Marc threw a telling look at Brad. “You’re right. We should discuss it after work. Over drinks. Tonight?” “Dream on, guys. Going out for drinks with the department is one thing. But I’m not going to a kink club with coworkers.” Realizing how open-ended that sounded, she raised a hand before they could speak. “It just gets too complicated. I mean, we have to see each other here every day. And we need to be able to concentrate.” “Why would having drinks with the two of us be any different than if Kaylee or Tim were there?” Brad’s innocent words were a physical touch stroking down her side, causing heat lightning to flash and pool between her thighs.
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She couldn’t come up with a reasonable answer, because her brain was already sitting in a club with them, laughing, flirting, enjoying some innuendo. Those images changed to the tame dinner-and-movie routine her ex had preferred, and the few men she’d dated since him. Even the sex had been predictable. She would swear he had counted the number of strokes before he came, just like brushing his teeth. She had to work to hide the shudder that threatened at the thought of more of the same with a new man. Lori shooed the men out of her cubicle and gathered her messages into a neat stack to call later. As she reached to set them near her desk phone, the business card fell into her lap. How had it gotten back in her messages? Brad must have slipped in there when she wasn’t looking. The plain black lettering glared in her face. 1-800-DOM-help. It said help. Her old relationships had definitely needed help. What could it hurt to call? What would it hurt? She didn’t have an answer and that worried her more than the thought that those two men were up to something. Maybe it was a dating service, only for people looking for something a little bit more adventurous. Was she adventurous? No! As much as she complained about tame sex, she’d never tried to meet a man who looked the bad boy type. She didn’t want the real thing, only one who could perform in bed. The rest of the time he should look intelligent and successful. Be intelligent and successful. She liked the fantasy of a handsome hunk who’d sweep her off her feet and seduce her to heights yet unattained, but she’d been around long enough to know her odds of finding that were slim to snowball-in-hell. She suddenly realized she was considering calling, considering meeting a man—a Dom. She caught herself. She just wanted to ask questions, find out why people seemed to get so much enjoyment from the lifestyle. A vision appeared of her old roommate’s blissful expression at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. Had she ever felt that way herself about a man? 13
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Perhaps the men in her past had been too meek. Her panties grew damp as her body agreed with the point and considered someone exciting. But it wasn’t safe, getting into potentially dangerous situations with strangers. Women who did that ended up surrounded by half-awake homicide detectives holding steaming cups of coffee as they waited for CSI to fish body parts out of the Dumpster. She tossed the card into the wastebasket.
***** Sitting on her couch that evening, Lori couldn’t quite recall how the business card had ended up in her purse. Yet when she pulled out her cell phone, the card fluttered to the floor. Heat washed over her skin at the sight of it, fueled by the memory of the excitement—no, desire—she had felt when she’d thought about letting a man take control of her sexually. She pictured lying on her bed, hands and feet bound to the bedposts with silken ropes. What would he do to her? Explore her body with toys? Too tame. But she wasn’t into pain. That was why she needed to call the number. She couldn’t even fantasize about it because she had no clue what really went on in a BDSM club. All she knew was something inside her had wakened and wasn’t going to be satisfied until she found a man who could show her. With shaking fingers, she dialed the number. When a male voice answered, she almost hung up. Could she explain her situation to a faceless male? “Thank you for calling 1-800-DOM-help. This is the Operator. How may I be of assistance?” Lori blinked. “I’m not sure. I found a card with this number on it and…well, I…” “You’d like to make some changes in your relationship?”
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She stood and wandered around her living room. “I guess that’s the problem. I’m not in a relationship. I can’t seem to find a guy who’s…well, man enough for me. I’ve pretty much quit looking. I’m tired of the disappointment.” “I see. You prefer a man who would take control of a situation?” “I don’t like that word, control. I don’t want to be controlled. I’m fully capable of handling anything that comes up. That’s how I got where I am at work. I just get tired of always having to be the one who decides where we eat, what movie we see, what position we’re in.” The man on the phone was silent for a moment, then drew a deep breath. “One who can make decisions, then.” “Yes. Competent decisions.” “Competent decisions,” he echoed, the clicking of a keyboard in the background. “So, this is like a dating service?” “We assist individuals in search of a Dom or sub, as well as providing a secure location to meet for those in a relationship who want to make changes. We often refer them to Unfettered, a private club. Have you any experience in BDSM?” “No. Some men I work with suggested I might, um, enjoy relationships more if I learned to be submissive.” “Let me transfer you to someone who can set things in motion for you. One moment.”
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Chapter Two Never in her wildest dreams would Lori have imagined spending a Friday night walking through a sex club. Unfettered—what a name. What did it even mean? Walking through a club was probably more believable than actually participating, though. Would she have to do…whatever in front of an audience? That was definitely out. Her guide, Mistress Marla, told her she needed to know what she was and wasn’t willing to do. So far, the “wasn’t” list was longer. No blood play, urine or feces. Talk about ew! Those last two were real mood killers, as far as she was concerned. But she was trying to remain open-minded. Mistress said there might be areas that sounded like turn-offs but would be enjoyable if experienced with the right Dom. Lori reserved the right to decide later, if the right guy came along. They stopped in the hallway off the main reception area, in front of a curtained section of wall. The female gasps and moans coming from the other side of the fabric caused Lori to wriggle as she stood. Pain and pleasure. The woman’s reactions were audibly distinct, reacting to the discomfort but obviously enjoying it. Before Lori could wonder what the woman had submitted to, Mistress Marla pushed a button that opened the black drapes. “We have many private or semi-private rooms available, as well as the public areas.” A spotlight in the ceiling inside the room shone on the far wall where a woman was shackled to some sort of rope web. She wore only black leather straps with chains draped between the leather, leaving most of her flushed skin bare, and a mask over her eyes. Her Dom, whose black leather pants and dark, muscle-defining t-shirt left nothing to the imagination, stood before her toying with the clamps on the woman’s breasts. Each movement caused her to cry out, after which she shuddered and moaned. 16
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“You do not have permission to come yet, slave.” “Yes Sir,” the woman gasped, followed by a whine. Spellbound, Lori was unable to tear her eyes away. The growing damp spot in her panties was proof of how much the woman’s experience was turning her on. Who knew she liked to watch? Or imagine herself in this woman’s shoes? Glancing down, Lori noticed the black fuck-me pumps and had to smile. She wouldn’t mind those shoes, for sure. “They really don’t mind if we’re out here?” “They would have chosen a room without a view, so to speak, if that were the case. Shall we go on?” Mistress Marla’s eyes sparkled in the light from the room, her smile knowing. Mistress could probably smell Lori’s arousal. How embarrassing. That was something she’d have to get used to if she participated—other people knowing why she was here, and how horny she was. Even if she insisted on a private room, she’d see people in the reception area. People would see her. What if someone from work, someone she knew, saw her? It could be the end of the career path she was on. They passed by scene after scene of people in various states of undress or costume, who used tools, toys or their bare hands to inflict pain and pleasure on each other. Some scenes left her unmoved or squeamish, while others had her panting like she’d jogged around the building. “What type of scene would you prefer?” Mistress Marla had led her to a private sitting room where she invited Lori to sit in one of the upholstered chairs. “I’m still not sure this is for me.” Lori crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. Mistress Marla sat opposite her. Wearing a purple latex cat suit, Mistress curled her legs into the seat and rested her elbows on the arms of her chair. “Are you always this dishonest with yourself about your body’s needs?”
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Lori blinked. That was some salesmanship, to call a potential client a liar. She didn’t need to explain herself or her sexual decisions to anyone. “Look, I realize this sort of thing appeals to a large number of people, but I’m not one of them. I’m capable of enjoying sex without playing games.” “Did anything you saw here tonight look like a game? Did those marks left by whips look pretend? Was anyone faking an orgasm to please his master?” Her facial expressions hadn’t changed from professionally pleasant, but Marla’s tone told Lori she had crossed a line. “I said that wrong. But it doesn’t change the fact I can’t see myself doing those things.” “I think you can. I think you do see it in your mind right now, and the excitement it brings you is palpable. When you go home tonight and take out your vibrator, which of those scenes will you imagine first?” Lori squirmed. But odds were most of the people who entered a club like this would have to be aroused in some way by what they saw. How could they not? Mistress continued. “While some come here strictly for the voyeuristic and exhibitionist aspect of their sexual needs, for most of these people, the roles you saw them in don’t end when they walk out the door.” She thought about letting a man take control of an entire evening, from dinner until breakfast, trusting him to meet her needs without her asking. And the reverse, her wanting to do what she knew would please him. Experiencing happiness because she knew he was happy with her. Being turned-on because he was turned-on by her. Was it really possible? Was it possible for her? She tiptoed into the deeper parts of her being and asked if she had ever met a man whose happiness was more important than her own. And didn’t like what she found. She looked at the wood trim on the arm of her chair and spoke softly. “I think, maybe, I’m too selfish to please someone. I mean, sure, I like giving blowjobs sometimes, or playing with his balls if he likes that. I’m just too old, maybe, to not wonder what’s in it for me.” 18
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Her words spilled out in a rush. “You know, I’m really more focused on how it’s going to end for me. Men always come. It’s a given. They don’t even have to take off their pants. So I focus on what feels good to me. No one has ever complained or anything, and they always come back for more, so I can’t be all that bad in bed. It’s these two guys at work—they’ve got me all confused. They always flirt with me but I know they expect more in bed than I know how to do. I doubt I’d ever hook up with them, but I don’t want to look like an idiot if I do. I just don’t see where whips and chains have anything to do with making love.” She realized she’d been rambling and the warmth of a blush climbed her neck. “Sorry. Just thinking out loud, I guess. My boss is making noises like he is no longer considering me for a promotion. Like I can’t manage people well. So maybe I’m not as in control of my life as I thought. Maybe I’ve been fooling myself. That must make me sound a bit desperate, coming to a sex club to save my job.” Mistress Marla simply smiled in that professional way, masking whatever she thought. “You might be telling yourself that’s why you came, but the truth is you’re here for the same reason we all are. For the sex.” “My sex life is fine, if maybe a little infrequent. Okay, so it’s nonexistent except for King Dong, but that’s beside the point and really my business, not anyone else’s. But I don’t need to go to some club to find a sex partner!” Lori’s words echoed in her head. Wow, she sounded like an old haughty priss. Emphasis on old. Miles away from the hotty she imagined sharing her bed with Marc or Brad. She raised her eyes to look at Mistress Marla. “I’m really a prude, aren’t I? So yeah, find me a man I’d enjoy having sex with on a regular basis. One I wouldn’t mind spending time with outside the bed wouldn’t be bad, either. But I have real issues with control. I doubt I can be submissive.” “Many people think that way, but look more closely at what you are doing. You are choosing who you’ll give that control to. You decide what you’ll allow him to do.” Mistress tipped her head to one side and held Lori’s gaze with her own. “The sub has
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the control in her safe word, in the limits she insists on. An experienced Dom watches his sub’s every reaction for signs she’s entering subspace—” “Subspace?” “It’s a state of mind where you dissociate from the physical pain or discomfort of the scene, often a euphoric state. While it’s pleasant for the sub, she isn’t capable of voicing signals at that point, so she needs to be monitored, taken care of to come down safely from the high. At Unfettered, we’ll never allow a novice Dom to work unsupervised, so you don’t have to be concerned about safety.” Lori realized there was so much more to the D/s scene than she had picked up from listening to her old roommate. How could she learn all the terminology to do this right? Was it more work than she wanted to get involved in, just for some good sex? No, this wasn’t all about sex. It was about forming a relationship that fulfilled the part of her that went unsatisfied with missionary positions and dinner-and-movie dates. She needed to retrain herself when it came to romance, and that took work. Finding the right man was worth the effort. “Okay, so how does this work? Do I look at videos of potential dates or something?” “We have an excellent reputation for matching our clientele using our own system. Once you’ve completed the entire registration process we’ll set up your first session with your Dom. Your initial session will take place here at Unfettered for your protection. And before then, I’ll take you through some training.”
***** Brad called Marc Saturday afternoon. “Are you up for trying out a club called Unfettered? It’s the one the 1-800 service refers people to. I thought we could set up a scene this weekend…or we can just check it out next week when we meet Lori there.” Brad kicked back on his leather sofa and propped his stocking feet on the tile-topped coffee table. “She called the number? No fucking way!”
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“Yeah, our girl is as adventurous as I thought, whether she knows it or not.” “That doesn’t mean she followed through.” “She must have, because I set us up to be her Doms next Friday. We’re on, dude. I requested that she not be told who we are so she has to confront us before she can back out.” He went on to explain what was required before they met with her. It still surprised him that he was able to arrange a scene where he and Marc could work with her. They had to go to the club one night before then, to show what sort of experience they had. Convincing the Operator Lori would be happy with two Doms took a little work, but once Brad’s call had been transferred to another employee, a Mistress Marla, things went more smoothly. In the last few years, Brad had gotten pretty good at reading women, or so he liked to think. Some women deserved to be pampered, and that was how he saw Lori. Maybe pampered wasn’t the word most people used toward their submissives, but that’s how he saw it. She wasn’t only giving up control of her body, her time, she was allowing him to discover what made her happy. Half of the time, the discoveries were a surprise to the subs, too. Watching their faces light up, their eyes glaze, the tremble of a lower lip, that’s what turned him on. Finding a nirvana she never knew existed. He wondered what type of sounds Lori made when fully aroused. She didn’t seem the purring type. As far as that went, she probably never made a sound for fear of someone knowing she was enjoying herself. She seemed repressed, but he knew there was a smoldering kitten inside. Now he just had to put that kitten out of his mind so he could work with her until Friday.
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Chapter Three Lori stood outside the entry of Unfettered and tugged at the hem of her little leather skirt. Another six inches of fabric and it might make a decent belt. Just the description of what she was supposed to wear should have proven to her they’d chosen the wrong man to be her date. Dom. He was her Dom and she was his sub. He’d requested she call him Master, and to use the safe word “chartreuse” if she felt the need to stop the game. Scene. Not game. She would never get this right! Lori’d had two sessions with Mistress Marla and thought she was ready for her first scene with a stranger, but doubts still snuck into her thoughts. Was she ready to explore whether this was the right option for her? Mistress had explained that just because one man or one setting didn’t work, it didn’t mean the whole idea was a wash. Mistress had sounded certain that the man Lori was paired with would please her. Lori wondered how the woman could be so sure, when Lori wasn’t certain what she needed. How could this woman know from just a few conversations? How desperately she wanted to just get back in the car and go home. But King Dong was the only one waiting there to greet her, and the chance at something more had really awakened a longing inside her. A fulfilling relationship was now a tangible object just out of reach. She was terrified of stepping beyond the door, but more terrified of what life would continue to be like if she didn’t. One night of supervised experimentation. If she didn’t like it, she could walk away. No one would know her name if she didn’t tell them, and she’d be in a private room. Everyone here was discreet. This was so much safer than meeting a stranger in a bar for a drink. Straightening the black bustier, checking one more time that the front zipper was fully up, she pushed open the door and entered Unfettered. 22
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Although there were no windows to the outside and the lighting level was much the same as when she had toured, the reception area seemed much more mysterious this time. Moody. Maybe even dangerous. Her gaze flitted around the room, looking for an employee. She had no clue where to go. Mistress Marla appeared from around the corner as if she had a camera trained on the door. Oh, duh. They had cameras all over. There was no spot where someone could go unseen, just in case a scene got out of hand. “Welcome, Lori. Are you looking forward to tonight?” Marla offered her a handshake. “Yes and no. I’m still a bit apprehensive.” “It’s to be expected. Just remember that while you are handing control over to another, you have the final say through your safe word. But use it judiciously. Think of it as an emergency brake. Allow yourself to experience the unfamiliar sensations without a preconceived notion of how your body will react. You might be pleasantly surprised at what pleases you. And your Dom. Shall we?” Lori followed Mistress through the large room. Walking on the ridiculously tall heels of her thigh-high boots was an exercise in futility. Was there a word for something higher than a stiletto? The boots she wore had to qualify for skyscraper heels. She probably looked like a kid playing dress up, thoroughly unsexy. But concentrating on not falling kept her out of her head as far as fear was concerned. She didn’t want to credit anyone with that type of brilliance, so she decided whoever chose her costume had a foot fetish. And a leather fetish. Black leather. From stem to stern, with quite a few inches of bare skin here and there. She’d gone all out with her hair and makeup, wild and spiky and dark and sexy. Really red lipstick in a shade she was certain clashed with her hair. And her nails! God, she never wore fuck-me red polish but she had tonight. She hoped her Dom appreciated it.
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Mistress led her to a small room, and Lori was relieved to see there were no windows. A chair in a darkened corner for Mistress to sit, but otherwise she’d have complete privacy. Lori looked at the other furniture in the room, or what she guessed would pass for furniture. A wooden chair with a shallow seat and two extensions, looking remarkably like a doctor’s exam table, yet the “patient” would sit rather than recline. A tall bench with a padded crosspiece. And in the center of the small space, a pair of manacles anchored to the floor, with a matching pair hanging from the ceiling by thick chains. Mistress Marla led her to those cuffs and buckled her in. Lori adjusted her stance for comfort and stood spread-eagle, listening to Mistress retreat to her corner. Her skin grew damp with anticipation. While a single word could end the scene before it even began, she owed it to herself to see it through. The silence grew and Lori waited. Cool air battled the nervous heat her body gave off. Butterflies danced wild hip-hop moves in her stomach. She strained to hear sounds. Her gaze darted about the room, or the portion she could see from her position. Where was he, this Dom of hers? As if on cue, the door opened and Lori’s pulse jumped. She held her breath. In walked a golden god in black leather pants, black cuffs and a mask. His hair was covered by a dark silk scarf tied pirate style at the back of his head. He had a small gold hoop in one ear. His full lips spread in a smile and his tongue traced across his lower lip as if he stood before a banquet. He stopped a few feet from her and ran his gaze from her toes up. Lori smiled, not having expected such a handsome man. He looked awfully young, though. Then Lori realized the door hadn’t shut behind him. Another man walked in dressed similarly but wearing an open black vest. His skin was more olive and his muscles were no less impressive. Tight, hard and defined, from the six-pack to his biceps and sculpted thighs. 24
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Damn, she just knew they’d be turned-off when they realized her breasts sagged and her hips were fat. Wait. Two men, two Doms? “There’s been a mistake, I think, Mistress—” “You were not given permission to speak,” the golden one barked. Her mouth snapped shut. Should she apologize or would that get her in trouble? But, what the fuck, why were there two men here when she hadn’t asked for that? Her gaze danced back and forth, landing on one, then the other. Which was she supposed to answer to? The dark, gypsy-looking one came forward. “We’re both your masters now. You will treat a command from either of us equally. You will ask for permission to speak, permission to touch us, permission to come. If you do any of these things without permission, you will be punished. Do you understand?” “Yes,” she whispered. “Speak clearly.” “Yes,” she repeated, louder. “‘Yes Master’ or ‘yes Sir’ is the proper response. You will call me Master Q and him, Master C.” “Yes, Master Q.” Her arms were shaking, her stomach clenched, but the more he spoke, the more tension drained. She could follow rules once they were explained. It was the not knowing that worried her. “Are you concerned about having two masters?” he asked. “Yes Sir. I thought I would only have one. I’ve never—” “There are probably a few things you’ll try tonight that you’ve never done before. Are you comfortable with that?” She gulped. That had been the idea, the reason she was here. Trying something new. There was something about their voices that sounded familiar. The sexy man in
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front of her was the same height as her coworker, Marc, and the strong jaw certainly fit. Which would make the fairer man Brad. Her stomach dropped. She couldn’t walk away anonymously after this scene if Brad and Marc were involved. How had they managed to set this up? She should have known better than to call the number on that card, when she assumed they’d put it in her messages. This could screw up their ability to work comfortably together, at least on her end, which was her entire reason for coming to a private club. Her ego jumped into the discussion. They want me. Holy crap, if they set this up, they really did want her, not whatever cute young thing they could pick from in the public rooms at the club. Why? And did she really want to fight them? She needed to make a decision before this went any farther. It had taken a lot of mental energy to take this step, to steel herself to at least try letting a Dom please her. She owed it to herself to follow through. Drawing in a deep breath, she looked Master Q in the eye. “Yes Sir.” One side of his mouth pulled back in a smile. “We have read your hard limits. No brown or golden showers or bodily function-related play. No caging or closeting. No electrical play or piercing the skin. And I noticed you are experienced in anal penetration. Is that correct?” “Yes Sir.” He ran his fingers up the back of her thigh, flirting with the hem of her skirt. “What about double penetration? Any experience?” She fought against the need to squirm from the warm tingles spreading from his touch. Double penetration? She’d never even fantasized… “No Sir.” “I see. But are you willing to try it?” “Um, yes. Sir.”
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He was close enough she could see his eyes. Deep, dark eyes she could fall into and spend a week there. It bothered her not to see the skin around them to read his expression better. She had to trust his mouth to smile or not. And oh, that mouth. His bottom lip was perfect, full enough to want to nibble without looking pouty. His tongue snaked out, wetting that lip, sending gooseflesh over her skin. To have that tongue flicking her nipples or clit—yum. But she couldn’t ask for it. She had to hope it was what he intended at some point. What did they intend? She had no clue what toys they planned to use on her. She wondered once again what she had gotten herself into. Trust. She was here to learn trust. I trust this man—these men—to satisfy me. Two men. She hadn’t even considered the possibility of more than one sex partner. That had always seemed to be a man’s fantasy—two women. Why would she want to have two men to worry about when one was a big enough nuisance? She bit her lower lip and tried to still the voice of anxiety chattering in her head. If she didn’t lose the negative attitude, she didn’t stand a chance. The golden god, Brad—no, Master C, she needed to remember—moved behind her and she twisted to see what he was doing. He stood at the table with the toys on it, but she couldn’t turn far enough to tell what he was up to. She heard him shift objects around, and then he approached, standing so close she felt his breath on her shoulders. “You want to learn if someone can fill your needs without being asked, right?” he said. “Yes, Master C.” “Be free to enjoy an evening without planning it all yourself?” “Yes Master.” He was describing her wants practically word for word from her list. Hearing him speak them aloud made her understand submission as Mistress Marla described it. Lori wasn’t bending to someone else’s desires, she was looking for someone who matched her needs. Finding the man who wanted what she was willing to give, and who was willing to give in return. 27
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“Tonight is not about taking orders, being told what to do. It’s about not giving orders. Do you understand the difference?” Master Q asked. “Yes Sir.” “Tell me the difference.” “I’m not going to tell you what I want you to do. I’m going to trust that I’ll be satisfied by what you decide to do.” “Very good.” Something as soft as a whisper brushed across her shoulders and she gasped. What a sensation, like butterfly kisses flitting across her skin. Master C swept the tool back and forth on her upper back. His gravelly voice heated her insides. “Pleasure comes in many ways. The entire body is a sex organ if you let it be. Close your eyes and focus on the feeling of the feather.” She did. The feather stroked down her shoulder and up her raised arm, and returned to repeat the trip on the other arm. A wake of gooseflesh flowed outward from the touch. He circled her, moving to her chest—first the flat upper part, then skirting the slopes pushed up by the bustier. Her nipples tightened as her areolas wrinkled, the rest of her breasts swelling. The leather top grew uncomfortable as she filled the cups completely. Automatically she tugged her right arm to reach for the zipper, wanting to feel the feather on the rest of her breasts. Realization that she wanted to bare her breasts to Brad made her freeze. She tried to put him out of her mind and focus again on the feather. “Stop fighting it. That won’t get you anywhere. Relax and let us work. For now, just feel. Do you like it?” “Yes Sir.” She wasn’t sure who spoke, since she still had her eyes closed. It sounded more like the buttery-smooth tones of Master Q. Both men orbited continuously around her. She heard their shoes squeak on the floor, became aware of their shifting energy, but only one continued to touch her, if only through the feather.
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That changed when the constraint of her bustier released as the zipper lowered. Sucking in her stomach, she straightened. The need building in her from the feather on her chest evaporated at the thought of being seen by both men. She licked her lips to keep from speaking. The bustier fell away and the men’s breathing audibly altered. The shorter, faster breaths somehow made her feel attractive. They liked what they saw. Could she open her eyes yet? She needed to see their reactions. Braving punishment, she blinked. Neither man was in front of her. She bit her lower lip. So much for her ego. No one was looking at her breasts. She twisted again to see what they were doing. “Pleasure can be reached by many routes,” said Master C as he walked around and stood in front of her. He traced the outline of her areola with one finger, pinched and pulled gently. “This will hurt for a moment but you will keep still. Understood?” “Yes Master.” She tensed in apprehension. He placed a clamp on her nipple and she jumped, bit her lip. She jumped again when he applied the other clamp. The pain receded quickly, becoming a dull ache. Her skirt lifted from behind, coming to rest high on her hips. Something hard and thin stroked her slit and up the cleft of her buttocks. “Are you wet for us?” asked the graveled voice of Master C. “Yes Sir,” she responded, her clit knotting. She was surprised her juices didn’t run down her thighs, she was so wet. Her hands ached with the need to touch. Her insides burned with the fire they had started. “That’s a good girl. I’m going to flog you with this,” he explained as he ran the soft fabric strips over her butt cheeks. “I want you even wetter.” Her heart jumped, her pussy clenched at the thought of getting still wetter. Already she was hungry for release. How far would they take her before they let her go? And when would she get to touch them? The feel of hot, throbbing male flesh was so necessary to her, she ached for it. 29
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She heard the slap of the flogger an instant before the sting flashed through her. Sharp, but not unbearable. It rang again and again, creating a slow burn on her ass. Master C said, “I’m only going to give you a few lashes this time. This is not a punishment, just a little something I thought would increase your pleasure.” “But I thought—” She bit down on her tongue, remembering she wasn’t to speak unless instructed. “I’m sorry, Master. May I speak?” Her fingers itched to touch his skin, glowing now with a light sheen of sweat. He stood just out of reach, even if her hands had been free. “Yes, you may speak.” “Thank you, Sir. I thought flogging was about pain, not pleasure. Isn’t it supposed to hurt?” “The pain is a means to an end. The endorphins will help you cope, increase your pleasure.” He tugged on the chain attached to one of the nipple clamps and a sharp twinge radiated into her breast just as the flogger stung her butt. Her hips jerked, thrusting her pussy forward as if seeking a cock to slip inside her. She was so ready to be fucked. She bit back a moan, arching her back to raise her breasts toward the gypsy. “Tell me what you need,” he commanded. “I need you to touch me, Master.” “Where?” “Anywhere, Master. God, anywhere. Um, my breasts—” Smack. The flogger hit her ass. “Oww!” She couldn’t hold back the cry at the next slap. Her voice rose in pitch with each gasp. Her butt cheeks stung now, in between the lashes, but the throbbing pulse in her clit told her it wasn’t a bad thing. Good God, she was getting so tense she thought she might come just from the flogging. Was that possible? Master Q tugged on her nipple chain again. “She’s getting close.” “Yes,” her other master agreed. “It’s time.” 30
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Shrugging out of his vest, the Master Q laid it on a bench and quickly tugged off his shoes and pants. The other one did the same. They stood and faced her, light and dark, cocks standing proudly at attention as they rolled on condoms. And they were hard for her. The thought flashed through her mind as they walked toward her and resumed what they’d been doing. Master Q toyed with her nipple clamps and Master C stroked the lashes of the flogger over her tender skin. The tension within her calmed a bit as pain lessened. Then all at once she felt the lash and the tug on her breasts and her pussy gushed in readiness. She cried out wordlessly as two fingers entered her pussy from behind, spreading her juices back onto her anus. It tightened at the touch. Was he going to fuck her there? Was she ready for anal sex? Master Q pinched her clit, drawing her attention forward as a finger worked her juices into her ass. Master C must have found some lube, his digit gliding in and out of her tight ring. The stroking back there combined with the flicking on her clit built her pleasure, her need. She wanted someone to suck on her breasts, someone inside her pussy, in addition to the fingers she now enjoyed. She needed to taste skin, lick the sweat off one of the men, suck his cock, anything. Anything to take her over the edge. “Please…” she begged. “Masters, please…” “Please what?” “Please…” Her focus was hazing. The fingers thrusting in her ass had spread, or he’d added another to open her more. Master Q now stroked his fingers in and out of her dripping pussy while thumbing her clit. “Oh God, please…” “Say it,” ordered Master C. “Tell us what you want, sub.” “Fuck me. Fuck me now!”
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In a flash of sensation, the clamps were yanked off her breasts, and cocks entered her front and rear. The sudden pain and fullness was like nothing she’d experienced and it threw her off the precipice she been clutching onto. “Ohh!” They sandwiched her between them, fucking her hard and fast, grunting as they thrust. She hung from the manacles, held up by their arms wrapped around her. One cupped her breasts; the other spread her ass cheeks. Cocks slammed in and out with short thrusts. She shattered. Every nerve in her being snapped. Her juices gushed and kept flowing as she peaked and ebbed with their strokes. She thought she would die of ecstasy. And their grunts sharpened just before they cried out. The men froze, holding her tightly. Master Q’s head rested atop hers. Their panting breaths echoed hers. No one spoke. Lori absorbed the sensation of heated skin against her back and front at the same time, the security of their arms. The smell of each man’s sweat, and of his sex. This was what she’d been avoiding by not having sex with her coworkers. But was it the added elements of being bound and whipped that made it so good, or was it these men in particular? Should she let them know she recognized them? She assumed they had reasons for the masks, probably to keep her from walking away the moment she saw them. It also set the mood, and kept her focused on the scene, rather than the men. Perhaps it was best that she kept silent for the time being. She felt their cocks soften as their breaths slowed. Master Q raised his head and looked into her eyes. “Very good, sub.” “Fuck yeah,” came the rasping response from behind. He cleared his throat. They disposed of their condoms and Master Q brought a warm cloth to clean her with, surprising her with the intimate act. So different from her lovers who wandered off to the bathroom before collapsing in the bed to sleep. So nurturing.
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Master C loosened the cuffs on her wrists and rubbed the tender skin there as he lowered her arms. Her muscles ached from being stretched for so long and she gasped. Her other master bent and unbuckled her ankles. She watched the play of muscles across his back and reached to trace one with her fingers. Master C grabbed her hand away. “You must ask permission to touch.” She snapped her head to look at him. “I’m sorry, Master. I will learn.” His smile sent shivers coursing through her. “Yes, you will.” They led her to the bench and sat with her between them. One gently stroked her wrists, the other her ankles, applying some sort of lotion on them. Oddly, she felt no discomfort at being naked with them without a bed in sight, nor a sheet to hide behind. They weren’t staring, or cringing at the sight of the soft pooch on her belly or the spread of the saddlebags on her thighs. They turned her slightly so she lay cradled in the beefy arms of Master C, while Master Q draped her legs across his lap and stroked his fingertips gently over her skin. “We should punish you for your lapses,” Master Q, said. “Turn you over on our laps and take turns spanking you.” She gasped and was amazed that her pussy flooded at the words. Master Q chuckled. “But I think you might like it too much.” She blushed, and knew from the heat rising that it started on her chest. Master C also noticed. “I like this. I like seeing your emotions travel on your skin.” He tenderly toyed with a puffy nipple. “Are they very sore?” “Only a little. The main pain came when he pulled off the clamps.” Master C nodded. “That’s from the blood rushing back.” She was amazed there had been any blood that high in her body at that point. She was sure it had all been in her throbbing clit. Unable to remember a time when she had felt so many sensations at once, she sighed, her body sated. She relaxed into her two masters. 33
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“Don’t get too comfy,” Master Q warned. He traced a vein up the inside of her thigh, causing her to open to him. “We’re not done yet. We’re only resting.”
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Chapter Four Master C, her golden, tender Dom, leaned over to look directly in her eyes. “Bring us each a drink.” “Yes Sir.” And it hit her, her role as submissive. Really taking orders. Rather than bristling against the command, she found she wanted to take care of their needs, as if they were guests at her home. Take care of her lovers, as they had treated her tender spots moments before. “Where are the drinks?” They instructed her where to find the pitcher of water and glasses. She filled two and placed them on a tray, then stood before them, sagging breasts and all, holding the tray while they drank. When Master Q looked up, he caught her watching him. “A slave doesn’t raise her eyes to her master unless instructed to.” She quickly looked down at their feet. There was so much to get used to, so much to learn in order to be a submissive. She’d read up about it on the internet, in addition to what Mistress Marla had taught her, but apparently hadn’t cracked the spine of the instruction manual yet. At the thought of the woman’s name, she glanced at the chair in the corner, which stood empty. “She left midway through the scene. I guess she felt we had everything under control, so to speak.” Master C pointed toward the ceiling above the chair. “The cameras are monitored, so you’re never completely unsupervised.” As if they could have lost control! Chained as she’d been, she was completely at their mercy. But she knew enough to keep her mouth shut and kept her gaze on their feet. How easily she had trusted them not to go too far, to cause real pain or injury.
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Funny how once she recognized them and accepted the situation, that portion of her fears had vanished. They placed their glasses back on the tray and Master Q had instructions for her. “Put the tray back and bring the pillow from the table over here.” Lori found the rectangular pad covered in navy vinyl and carried it to the bench where she stood, eyes down, and waited for direction. Master Q leaned back against the wall and spread his knees apart. He pointed to the floor between his feet. “Put the pillow here and kneel on it.” She knelt between his knees and debated putting her hands on his muscular thighs. God, she wanted to touch them so badly! “May I touch you, Master?” “You may. And you may suck my cock until I tell you to stop.” She lifted her gaze and saw he was semi-hard already. Reaching for his cock, she let her hand run the length of it a couple of times, partly to quell her own need for contact. But this wasn’t about her. Taking him fully in her mouth, Lori tasted the saltiness of his cum. It was a heady taste, one she never would have confessed to liking before, but wanted more of now. As his cock throbbed in her mouth, she realized her own control in this activity. She was giving him a blowjob not because he demanded it, but because it gave him pleasure. She could offer as much pleasure as she wished, or withhold it if she preferred. Although withholding might lead him to punish her. She was safest doing her damnedest to make it the best fucking blowjob he’d ever gotten. And she did. Changing her focus from getting him off to giving him ecstasy, she listened to his body. Let her tongue make slow exploration of him. Tightened her lips and sucked. Swallowed the precum as she used the tip of her tongue to tease his slit. The harder she worked on him, the harder it became to not jump on him and fuck herself to completion along with him. She fought to ignore the swelling of her clit, the steady pulse there that kept time with Master Q’s panting breaths. Her hands tightened on his firm thighs, then caressed their way up to his balls. 36
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He groaned and slid forward until he almost fell off the bench. “That’s good, sub. So fucking good.” She took as much of his thick rod in her mouth as she could without gagging, pressed him against the roof of her mouth with her tongue and sucked. Pulled back slowly and lowered her mouth again on his cock. Her right hand kneaded his thigh to keep from reaching between her own legs and spreading the juices escaping her pussy. “Look at me.” Keeping her lips tightly around him, she raised her gaze to his. “I want you to watch me come.” She nodded slightly and shifted her weight so she could slide him in and out of her mouth without breaking their visual connection. His eyes narrowed when his cock jumped. Each time he blinked, the action took a moment longer than the last, and she thought his eyes rolled once. Her pussy clenched in time with her rocking. God, how she needed to touch herself there! She squeezed her thighs together but it brought no relief. Precum flowed more steadily and his balls tightened in her hand, letting her know the time was there. She sucked in her cheeks, teased his slit, and wrapped her thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock. His growl echoed in the small room as he erupted, filling her mouth with his hot cum. She continued to stroke and suck him, swallowing often, and didn’t slow until the tension in his body drained. At last he cupped her head in his hands. “That’s enough. More than enough. Thank you.” “Thank you, Master Q.” She wondered if her eyes were as glassy as she felt they must be. His orgasm had brought her so close to one herself, with no contact on her clit. Master C touched her shoulder. “Bring the pillow over here now.”
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Oh God, he’d been watching her the whole time. Watching her suck off his friend. She cringed deep inside in embarrassment, but when she saw how hard his cock was, the emotion quickly fled. He’d enjoyed the show. Her performance had pleased two men. Her ego did a little strutting happy dance. Who would have thought she was hot enough to make men wait in line for her? Those thoughts quickly stepped aside when she focused on Master C’s cock. He was closer to coming and needed less stimulation, she thought, so she worked to make it that much more intense. Wondering where this sort of knowledge came from, she wrapped her flattened tongue around his width. Drew her tightened lips up the length of him. She kept eye contact with him from the start, before she realized she hadn’t been given permission and tore her gaze away. She didn’t think her ass could withstand another flogging. Although her pussy would sure enjoy it. As soon as she looked away, he called her back. “No, no, watch me as you suck me. Spread your knees as far as you can there and play with your pussy. Make yourself come with me.” Her eyes flared in delight. Quickly she dipped her middle finger into her wetness and spread it over her clit. She pressed hard against the nub, then flicked her fingernail across it. She stroked herself with the same rhythm she used on his cock, her free hand toying with his sac. She bobbed her head faster as her own tension built. “Don’t come until I tell you,” Master C ordered in a tight voice. Pressing her finger firmly against her clit stopped the ascent for a moment. She stroked her tongue around the cock deep in her mouth, increasing tension with her lips. He had to be close, as she was ready to burst.
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His eyes, barely visible through his narrowed lids, burned into her, flitting between her hand on her pussy and her mouth on his cock. She battled a wild urge to roll onto her back and let him watch her finger-fuck herself until she screamed in passion. But the price came too high—punishment for doing so without being instructed. Would he flog her? Take her over his knee and spank her barehanded? Or flog her pussy, perhaps, carefully landing the blows so a lash connected with her pulsing clit? Images rolled through her mind until his face became a blur, but she kept her eyes open, held back her orgasm and prayed for his release. It hit him all at once, as if he’d been watching the porn film in her head. He bucked his hips, jamming his cock into her mouth while his hands held her head in place. He fucked her face, wildly thrashing, yelling wordlessly as he pumped her mouth full of his hot cum. “Come now, slave!” he ground out. She let go of her reserve, thrust two fingers inside her pussy and pressed her thumb against her clit. She screamed around his cock, cutting herself off to swallow before she choked. She let his cock fall out of her mouth as she gasped for air. Unable to keep her head up, she collapsed against his thigh, panting. Her body shivered at the cool air on her sweat-bathed skin. “Fuck.” Master C’s breaths were almost as raspy as his voice. He leaned back against the wall. “Oh, fuck. Yeah, that was good.” Master Q gently nudged her shoulder and offered her a glass of water. Too tired to move, she remained on her knees and drank the cooling refreshment. Another first, giving two men head on the same night. Shoot, side by side. Never in her wildest dreams… Maybe that was her problem. She’d never dreamed wildly enough. Sex was so routine with most of the men she met. Shopping here at Unfettered seemed like the
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answer to her love-life questions. She could try out men anonymously, have sex when she wanted it without all the entanglements. Or were Marc and Brad looking for more than one night? Doubts began to creep in her mind as she again wondered how she could sit side by side with them in the meeting room after having sex. But her body was too happy to let negative thoughts grow. She inhaled deeply, fully satisfied, her senses filled with the blended smells of their activities. What would they ask of her next? How long did a scene last? Her body was limper than overcooked spaghetti at that point—she doubted she could handle any more. “I think you’ve performed well for us.” Master Q reached out a hand and she leaned her cheek into his palm. The warm skin felt good on her cool cheek. Her body temperature was cooling quickly due to the sweat coating her. “Yes, definitely,” agreed her other master. “Would you be willing to play with us again?” She looked up at them, her light and dark hunks of sex toy, and couldn’t imagine finding anything more satisfying. It didn’t make sense to mess with perfection, try other men. But there were still the work issues. “May I speak plainly, Masters?” They glanced at each other, then back to her. Master C nodded. “Of course.” “I know who you are, Brad. And Marc.” Brad’s eyes flared and he reached for the mask, untying it and pulling it off. “I guess that makes it easier to break the news to you.” “I guess,” she repeated. Momentary anger rose in her gut that they’d tried to pull something over on her, but logic swallowed it down. Marc pulled off his mask and ran his fingers through his long, sexy black hair. “Would you have come here if we’d invited you? You turned me down for a drink at Blackie’s.”
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“No, I probably wouldn’t have. I didn’t think it was a smart idea for us to have sex in any way. I still don’t know how smart it was. I should have said something as soon as I realized who you were.” “Why didn’t you?” Brad asked. “After talking to Mistress Marla and visiting the club, I saw the sense of some of the things she said about men who are able to meet my needs without being told.” She squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable in her naked state but not about to acknowledge it, knowing it was the baring of her soul that was her problem. “And to be honest, I think it was a bit of a relief knowing it was you guys, not some strange men. That made it easier to trust.” Marc’s lips spread and relief relaxed the muscles around his eyes. “I’m glad about that.” Her throat tightened when she continued. “But it really isn’t okay that you tried to pull this over on me. I mean, it’s practically rape, isn’t it? I said no when you asked me out at the office.” “But you had the chance to say no, or use your safe word, before we got started,” Brad argued. “No one forced you.” “I know. I thought it out and made the decision and I stand by it, don’t worry. But I’m still not happy that you tricked me into coming here.” “We thought it was the only way to get you to try a scene with us.” Marc took her hand and pulled her to her feet, sliding away from Brad to make room for her on the bench. He continued to hold her hand after she sat, running his thumb over the backs of her fingers. “I can’t speak for Brad, but I have wanted the chance to show you how good we could be together, practically since we started working together. Our methods might be suspect, but the feelings behind them are real.” Lori stared at their joined hands, letting his words sink in. There’d always been chemistry between the three of them. Now that she knew what that chemistry was capable of creating, it would be hard to go back to just working together. 41
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Were they grown-up enough to pull it off, keeping sex out of the office? Hell, was she? Where did they go from here? “So, you guys had the right idea. Assuming I swallow down the pissy part of me that doesn’t like being tricked, what did you have in mind after this?” That put them on the spot. She could watch for reactions and see if this was just a one-night stand. In reality, a one-nighter would be the easiest way to go back to normal life. But she wasn’t sure she wanted normal again. Brad leaned forward and looked at Marc. “I think we kind of hoped you’d like it and want more.” “More. More scenes at the club? Just keep it at kinky sex between friends?” “Why not let it happen naturally?” Marc asked. “If you enjoyed tonight and want to try more, let’s not set limits. We’ll plan another night and if that works, another, and see where it takes us.” She met Brad’s eyes as he nodded. “Can I set some ground rules at work? I can’t go around calling you guys Master there. And if you start ordering me to get your coffee or sodas, people will notice something is up. We have to keep it casual there.” “That makes sense. We’ll leave the sub training for after hours.” “Training?” “Yeah. We’ll help you find your limits and what you enjoy. It’s called training. Doms and subs all need training to ensure the safety of everyone involved, physically and emotionally.” Lori wondered if that training would cover how to have a sexual relationship with these guys without getting her heart involved.
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Chapter Five On Monday morning, Lori sifted through her phone messages as usual, squirming at the tenderness of a few places on her butt. She’d never realized how firmly padded her office chair was. She’d have to plan for discomfort if she was going to continue her sub training. The distraction of pain was great to get out of her head and focus on what her body felt during a scene, but it didn’t help her focus on the job. She’d researched more on the internet Sunday evening, and learned many people chose this for a full-time lifestyle. How did they let go at work? Each twinge reminded her of the flogger Brad had used on her. Which brought on memories of her skirt up around her waist and her top on the floor. Of the two men naked and hard for her. Oh, yeah, the memories… Stop. She needed to focus. On the multiplayer war game account. Flipping on the monitor, she logged in and waited for her company’s software to load. Sounds outside her cubicle pulled her attention. “Morning.” Brad leaned his head in the opening. “Morning.” “How are you doing?” “Fine. Thanks.” He smiled. “Good. Anything urgent in the messages?” She shook her head. “Good. I’ll see you in the morning meeting.” He tipped his head and left. Lori stared at the empty space where he’d been. That was it? That was all he was going to say after the night they’d shared? Of course, she’d been the one who insisted
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on professionalism. But still, he should at least whisper some silly comment about how good she’d been. As she wondered about his lack of response, Marc filled the doorway. “Hey. Happy Monday.” She grinned. As if. “Right back atcha.” “You look good this morning.” “As opposed to other mornings?” He winked. “You look especially good. Gotta get to work. I’ll catch up with you later.” So that was how they were going to play it. If she’d known it was going to be this easy, she’d have dated one of them a long time ago. But they weren’t really dating, were they? What would you call an evening at a BDSM club? Her vocabulary didn’t cover that. Nor the fact that both men were involved. Speaking of awkward. She tried to remind herself that her main goal was to accept the idea there were men out there who were capable of meeting her needs, romantically and sexually. It wasn’t about Marc, Brad, or a relationship. All thoughts to the contrary needed to be squelched. With that in mind, she pulled up her notes and reviewed what she needed for the meeting.
***** Marc met up with Brad at Unfettered for their second session with Lori, their first without the masks. Both men wore their usual comfortable black slacks, Brad with a blue t-shirt and Marc’s bronze colored. He liked the way bronze showed off his eyes, but he’d never let his friend know that. “Where are the toys?” Brad asked.
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“I didn’t ask for any,” Marc said. “The only thing we need tonight is this.” He pointed to the bed centered against the far wall. The four bedposts would be perfect for restraint, but he wasn’t playing that game tonight. “Tonight we teach her the truth about control. It’s not being tied up or shackled. It means turning yourself over to your master. Completely.” “Oh, good one.” Brad grinned. “I thought so. We’re going to make love to Miz Meadows very slowly. I mean it might take all night. We’ll tell her when to come, of course. But she’s to remain in whatever position we put her in, with only the force of our commands.” Brad walked around to the far side of the bed, looking down at the bare sheet as if Lori lay there already. A knock at the door drew their attention and Lori walked in, wearing exactly what he had instructed when he set up the evening. Her simple black dress hugged her curves without shouting slut. Her heavy breasts hung free, and his hands itched to cup them. Her pale skin looked slightly flushed and he wondered if she was embarrassed or excited. Marc stepped toward her. “Close the door.” She did. “You look beautiful, as I expected you would,” he told her. He circled with barely a breath of air between them, feeling the warmth of her body, inhaling her scent. From the crease between her brows, he knew she was confused, waiting for instruction. “I’m glad you joined us tonight. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” Brad came and lifted her hand to his lips. He assumed the raspy edge to his voice that he had used before to disguise it. “Hello again. Master Q is correct, you look…well, good enough to eat.” Lori smiled. “Hello.” “The ground rules remain the same,” Marc began. “You’ll call us Master C and Master Q. Safe word is chartreuse. You will do what you’re told by either of us. Most
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importantly, you will not come until you are told. Special instructions for tonight are these: you may not touch us with your hands unless we tell you to. We won’t be using any restraints on you, but we expect you to hold a position as if we were. Do you understand?” She met his gaze. “I think so, Master Q. Except, why call you Master Q when I know who you are?” “Who am I?” “You’re Marc Quinn.” “No, once I entered this club I became Master Q. It’s not a name I use for playing games. It’s who I am. If you agree to be here with me, you’re accepting me as your master. You’re acknowledging your willingness to do what I tell you without question. You’re agreeing to the role of sub while you are in this club.” “Oh, I get it. So the names and…” She tugged at her tight dress. “The clothes remind us what’s going on.” “Yes. Some subs prefer to wear a collar or piece of jewelry when they are in that role. We can deal with that later. For now, the names will do. We must be clear before we begin. Repeat your instructions as you understand them.” He stopped pacing and stood in front of her, feet spread, shoulders back, hands clasped behind him. “My safe word is chartreuse, I will follow all orders either of you give me. I can’t touch you unless ordered. And I must treat your words as physical restraints when commanded.” He smiled. Of course she understood, but he wasn’t going to allow confusion to mar their night. Making assumptions when a sub turned over their safety would lead to dangerous risks. “Very good, sub.” Marc glanced at Brad, who nodded and moved to stand next to him. When he looked at Lori again, he noticed her eyes roaming over Brad’s body and a wave of jealousy rocked through him. Shit. He’d never had trouble sharing before. But he’d never met anyone like Lori before. 46
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Shaking off the emotion, he spoke to Lori. “Take off your dress and hand it to Master C.” Bending slightly, she grasped the skirt sides and lifted, pulling the fabric slowly up and over her head. Her porcelain skin was bared inch by luscious, succulent inch, and his cock swelled in anticipation. Down, boy, we’ve got a long night ahead. Brad shook out the dress and draped it over a chair, then came back to Marc’s side. “Woman, you are perfect dressed like that.” Looking at her only garment, those seductive black pumps, Marc had to agree. “You have excellent taste in shoes.” Her breasts, with their pale-peach nipples, weren’t falsely perky, but sat low and full, the way he loved them. Rounded hips, fleshy belly and thighs, all womanly and seductive. Reaching up, he ran fingertips over her right shoulder and down her arm. Brad followed suit and took hold of her hand, palm up. He kissed her there, and on her wrist, working slowly upwards. Between them, they kissed and laved her upper body as she stood, moaning and gasping at the sensations they aroused. Marc cupped her breast and suckled the nipple, tugging at it with his teeth, absorbing the soft vanilla fragrance of her. He had a thing for breasts, and would be content to spend hours playing with hers, but he noticed Brad had dropped to his knees and was working over her lower abdomen. With a sigh and one last pinch of her flesh, Marc moved behind Lori and kissed the small of her back. She wriggled as if startled. He grabbed her hips. “Easy, woman. You weren’t told to move.” “I’m sorry, Master. I will try.” “No,” Brad said. “You will remain still.” She sighed. “Yes, Master C.” Marc grinned and went back to work, nipping her round butt cheeks. He grasped one in each hand and squeezed, loving the feeling. Even when she clenched her muscles
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there was enough meat to hold on to. He spread them and watched her anus twitch. Licking down one side of her cleft, he circled the puckered skin with the tip of his tongue. Lori hissed and her hips jerked away from him. “You’ve been warned already. This time you’ve earned punishment.” “I’m sorry, Master. Thank you for caring enough to punish me.” His cock jumped at those words. She was getting into the scene, exactly what he’d hoped for. Making her wait to be punished would allow the anticipation to build. He was far from finished with her ass. He continued to lick and kiss her, nipping at her curves. “Spread your legs.” She did and he moved his hands to spread her pussy from behind. Brad was toying with her clit, and her juices were flowing. “It’s a good thing we didn’t tell you not to enjoy this,” he said, fingering her wetness. He spread her moisture back toward her anus and worked a finger inside. She clenched hard around him. “So tight. Do you enjoy being fucked in the ass, sub?” “Yes,” she answered softly. “Speak up when I ask you a question.” “Yes Master. I enjoy it when you and Master C fuck my ass.” “That’s good. We plan to do that a lot.” Her muscles loosened quickly around his finger, and the second one he slipped inside. His cock throbbed with the need to be there. It was time to move on. Marc stood and pulled off his shirt. Brad took his cue and did the same, and opened his fly as he moved to the far side of the bed. “Come lie down in the middle of the bed,” Brad instructed. Lori did after kicking off her shoes, and Marc enjoyed the view of her ass as she crawled to the center. He tugged off his pants and shoes, stroking his cock while Lori stretched out. 48
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She lay somewhat awkwardly, stiff and uncertain, until Brad sat next to her and lifted her arms over her head. “Keep your arms here until we tell you otherwise.” “Yes, Master C.” Marc settled into the near side of the bed, letting his eyes roam her entire body. He stroked the inside of her thigh. “Spread your legs.” Shifting slightly, she parted them, then followed the tug of his hand to widen the distance. He grabbed a handful of flesh at the top of her leg. “So sexy. You are definitely all woman.” When he parted her pussy lips, she gasped. He was grateful his head was turned so she wouldn’t see him smile. If she knew what her body did to him, the little sounds she made, that would be dangerous. The way her nipples tightened as he watched, or her pussy moistened all because of his touch, his look. Fuck, that really got to him. And she thought she needed to tell a man what she wanted. Her body said it without words. He scooted down to sit between her legs while Brad went to town on her breasts and lips. With flattened hands Marc spread her wide, opening all of her pink, glistening slit to his pleasure. And pleasure it was, inhaling the essence of her arousal, using his thumbs to play in her honey. Leaning in close, he took another deep breath filled with her scent and let it go straight to his cock. Then he dove in. He pressed back the hood on her clit and flicked his pointed tongue repeatedly. Paused to catch the increasing flow of juices and savored the awareness she was really enjoying what he did. She somehow kept from moving beneath their attentions but couldn’t stop the sexy noises from sounding as he lapped her pussy. Tiny, high-pitched gasps, throaty utterings all built in frequency the longer they worked on her. When he knew she was getting close to orgasm, Marc sat up, nudged Brad and spoke to Lori. “Get up a minute.” She looked confused, foggy with lust, but she stood. Brad sat at the edge of the bed, his legs bent over the side. Marc placed a hand on Lori’s shoulder. “Bend over.” 49
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Brad held out his arms and guided her to take his stiff, weeping cock in her mouth. He held her sides helped Lori find her rhythm as Marc rolled on a condom. Stepping up behind, Marc pushed two fingers inside her pussy and stroked. Hot, wet and slippery, just the way he liked it, as if she’d been waiting for him. He thrust his cock in, groaned with pleasure at the sensation of her clamping down on him. “Oh, yeah. Honey, your pussy is heaven.” She pulled away from Brad’s cock and drew in a breath. “Thank you, Master. I’m glad it pleases you.” Fuck. He almost lost it right then and there. Was she in subspace, even with the change in position? No, she spoke too clearly. The need to make certain, to give her the pleasure of total absorption, overwhelmed him. He bent over her, cupping the weight of her breasts in his hands. He squeezed, found the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and worked the velvet nubs. Pinched, tugged, all the while keeping an even rhythm thrusting in and out. Lori rocked on Brad’s cock, her speed increasing. She whimpered, grunting each time Marc bottomed out inside her. “Remember not to come until we say so,” Marc warned above her ear. She whined. Marc straightened and smacked her ass cheek hard. “No complaining.” He smacked her again, then pumped deep. He continued the motions, spanking her and fucking her. “You earned one punishment tonight, are you going to make it two?” She pulled her mouth off Brad’s cock. “No, Master. I’m trying not to come, but the spanking, and you inside me…” She whimpered as he spanked her again. “I’m sorry, Master, I can’t hold out much longer.” Brad grasped a handful of her wavy hair and pulled her back down to his lap. Marc sped up his pace, stopping once to spank her again. Her shrieks rose in pitch until he
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knew she was at the edge. Pulling out, he spanked her four times, hard, then commanded, “Come.” He thrust into her as she shattered, fucking in and out wildly as she clenched and released in her orgasm. Beneath her, Brad groaned and froze. Marc couldn’t hold back anymore and let go, feeling pleasure sweep over his body. When he could move without staggering, Marc helped Lori onto the bed and went in search of a clean cloth. Brad stretched out beside her, smoothing her tangled hair. They were all breathing normally by the time Marc lay down on her other side. She lay on her back. Marc rolled on his side and propped up on an elbow to better see the other two. He caught Brad’s attention and nodded. Brad spoke. “Did you enjoy tonight as our sub?” “Yes, Master C. It was…amazing. I never imagined anything like this.” She laughed. “That sounds trite, doesn’t it? But it’s true. I know I’ll never settle for missionary again with any man.” Marc growled low in his throat. “I don’t recall giving you permission to talk about other men.” She smiled and turned her head his way. Her eyes still held the glassiness of sex. “Forgive me, Master.” As she continued to hold his gaze, her eyes darkened and she looked up at the ceiling. “What is it?” he asked. Lori shook her head. “Nothing.” Brad lifted on his elbow and stroked his free hand down her arm. “This doesn’t work without total honesty.” “I was just wishing there was a way this could continue.” “Why can’t it?” Brad asked.
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She stared at the ceiling as if unable to meet either man’s eyes. “Well, there’s work, for one thing. And there are three of us. Somehow, someone’s going to feel left out at some point.” Marc said, “Just for a moment, let’s take work out of the picture. We’re just three people who met at a club and discovered we work well together.” “If only,” she snorted. “I can’t take the fact of who we are out of the picture. It is the picture.” Brad sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. “It doesn’t have to be. People who work together date all the time. They do things together.” “If you compare handcuffs and spankings to a company softball game, I’ll slap you, Collins.” Brad took her free hand and pinned it to his thigh. He held up his other hand when she began to speak. “Hear us out, Lori. Take us out of the situation. It’s just you and two men exploring each other’s bodies, learning more about your own.” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “You don’t even have to answer out loud. But ask yourself, and answer honestly, did you enjoy it? Was there a difference in your level of pleasure when you didn’t have to ask for what you wanted or plan it yourself?” “Look, I give you credit for showing me that there are men out there who are capable—” Marc’s eyebrow rose and she paused and took a deep breath. She smiled. “Okay, you two are skilled at pleasing a woman. I admit it. But don’t expect me to put it in your next peer reviews.” He grinned. Thank God she wasn’t going to shut them out completely. They had way too much going for them to not explore this aspect of their relationships to the fullest. He knew in his gut none of them could find anything comparable with anyone else. The perfect blending of chemistry and personality between them wasn’t common. Lori sighed. “I just wish it was two other men who’d taught me all of this.”
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Chapter Six When the alarm clock rang Monday morning, Lori groaned and switched it off. Even after spending most of the day before trying to decide how to handle her turbulent feelings, she couldn’t face Brad and Marc in person. Concentrate on work? Well, maybe from home. She could work from her laptop and probably accomplish more. Doing something she rarely did, she tapped in the phone number for Mr. Riggs’ desk and left him a voicemail. She hadn’t missed a day in over eighteen months, so no one could begrudge her a mental health day. Fitting, mental health. This situation she had created was definitely crazy. After twenty years of keeping to her “no dating coworkers” rule, she had completely annihilated her entire rulebook. Took a flogger to it, as it were. Could she gracefully back out? Thanks for introducing me to this, guys. Now I’m going to find my own Dom. That didn’t seem right. And if she were honest, which she liked to think herself capable of being, she didn’t want to try the scene with someone else. But how could she keep it casual with Brad and Marc if she let it continue? She only had two states of mind, or sex life: single or in a relationship. She didn’t sleep with guys she dated until she was certain there was something between them beyond sexual chemistry. That could be the problem. She focused so hard on the “beyond” she hadn’t noticed the lack of chemistry in the past. Yet her body had been aware of these two men from the start, each in their own way. Brad was the type of guy she’d panted after in college, so clean cut and fair, kind of metrosexual without being effeminate. So handsome she just sighed sometimes, wishing she were younger.
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Marc’s darker looks had become her favorite when she’d entered her thirties. Exotic. Erotic. The kind who made you think of the tropics, secluded beaches and fruity rum cocktails. That warm burn spreading throughout your body. How had she never noticed his ear was pierced? Obviously, he never wore the gold hoop to the office, but when they worked, they often sat close enough to count each other’s freckles. She probably had never pulled her gaze away from his spellbinding eyes, except to look down at her papers. Tossing back her covers, she rolled out of bed and grabbed her pink fleece robe. Could she own anything less sexy? As she cinched the belt tightly around her waist, she realized how low on her list sexiness had been up until she’d tugged on that too-small miniskirt and bustier the guys had requested before their first scene. She could change that, whether or not she continued to see Marc and Brad. Buy sexy lingerie and wear it even when she was home alone at night. Get some scented candles. Oh, and choose a line of bath gel and lotion that made her feel pretty. Take control of her libido. If beauty came from within, sexiness probably did, too. After setting the coffeepot to brew, Lori took a yogurt out of the fridge and sat down at the dining table/desk. Wiggling the wireless mouse, she woke her laptop from its slumber and logged into her office email. As usual, only a few new messages awaited her, two of which had sender names that sent her stomach quivering. Marc’s had a subject line of the name of their current project, but the email itself seemed to be in code. Just wanted to touch base with you. I looked forward to seeing if you had any more to add to our discussion. I hope you’re feeling better soon. Marc Since he’d used the office email, anyone who read this would easily think he referred to some idea they’d talked about on Friday. But her gut—or was it her heart?— knew he meant their evening at Unfettered. Brad’s read much the same. 54
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Hey, sorry to hear you weren’t up to coming in today. I hope it’s just a passing bug. I might call later to get your feedback on a few ideas. Lori typed quick, neutral replies saying she’d be working from home if they needed to talk about the project. She didn’t think a phone call was the right way to discuss their future outside work. She received a text from Marc shortly after hitting send. How are you, really? Short and to the point. I’m okay. Just needed a down day. I won’t pry, but was worried. You’re never sick. I’m sure I’ll be back at work tomorrow. But she still couldn’t imagine facing the two men. Either her panties would drench at the memories of what they made her body feel, or she’d blush so blatantly in the middle of a meeting, everyone would know something was up. I trust you’ll tell me if you need anything. Wow, his words cut through any remaining morning fog in her mind. Trust. With just one word he was her master. A comforting warmth settled over her. He had her back. Her well-being was in his hands and it was safe. Lori smiled. Thank you. She needed to talk to them both and be honest with her concerns. But first, she needed coffee. Even after her second cup, she was no closer to knowing how to explain herself. They’d had two sessions together at Unfettered. Two dates, if she were to compare this situation to her past relationships. She was rushing things if she thought she needed to make long-range plans after two dates. But the whole issue was whether she could function normally at work if they continued to see each other at a club. She was back to square one. And wasting time thinking about Marc and Brad when she should be working.
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For the next two hours she wrote, revised and tossed out several campaign ideas. Tugging at her hair in frustration, she decided to shower and eat before trying again. Somehow, she needed to get her mind back on her work. Fully on her work, without the visions of her naked masters ordering her to suck their cocks. Ohhh. That was the wrong image to think about when she wanted to put them out of her head. Immediately, memories of their moans of arousal filled her. Her nipples tingled as they tightened. Heading to the bathroom, she debated using the shower massage wand to take the edge off her building need. How insane! She was stronger than this. Never had she felt uncontrollable urges in the middle of the morning. A tepid shower cooled her down and after pulling on a pair of yoga pants and palepink t-shirt, she sat back down at her laptop and typed up a decent presentation. She was reading through it when her phone buzzed with a text message from Brad. Can I bring lunch by? How sweet, but how illogical. He couldn’t get to her place and back with a stop for food, all within his lunch hour. No, thanks. I’m good. I know you’re good, but you need to eat. Did he think she lay half-dead in bed and couldn’t make it to the fridge? Really, I have food. Soup, salad, sandwich fixings… Okay, how ‘bout I stop by and pick up lunch from you? Sounds delicious. Lori smiled. You’d be late getting back. She stopped herself from adding that she’d cook for him another time. She wasn’t ready for invitations like that. Well, just make sure you eat. That sounded more like mother than master, but it made her crave macaroni and cheese and apple pie. With more cheese. Could a relationship with someone like that fill her to the point she didn’t need starchy comfort food? What a dietary concept!
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Unable to stop herself, she rummaged through the cupboards and found her standby boxed mac-and-cheese, and when the pasta was tender, added a handful of shredded cheddar, a can of tuna and some frozen peas to the sauce. Heaven. She did refrain from eating out of the saucepan, dishing up a bowl and saving the rest for another meal or two. A chime from her phone signaled another text. This time Marc’s name was displayed. Feeling any better? The processed cheese sauce high had just begun to hit, so she answered honestly. Yes. That’s good. We might do a conference call this afternoon to bounce some ideas around. Okay. I’ll email you guys what I’ve come up with, she replied. Good idea. There was a pause long enough to make Lori think he’d gone back to whatever he’d been doing. The words that came through a minute or two later sent a flutter through her insides. Put on your work clothes just before two o’clock, so you’ll be dressed appropriately. What the fuck? Dressed appropriately for what? Her work clothes—suddenly his meaning dawned. She heard his voice describing how the outfit she wore to Unfettered reminded her who she was inside the club. By putting on her work clothes, she was putting on a mindset of graphic designer. Everything else would be pushed from her thoughts. In doing so, she’d force herself to focus. In doing so, she’d acknowledge she was continuing the relationship with Marc, at least, as her master. Her hand trembled as she reached for the phone. She glanced over her shoulder as if being caught writing personal email on company time, but of course she was alone in her dining room. Her fingers flew over the virtual keyboard on her phone. Yes Master. A moment’s hesitation, then she hit send.
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Lori sucked in an audible breath, implications and complications flooding her brain at what she’d done. At the same time, warmth pooled between her thighs and giddiness sent ripples of laughter through the rest of her being. She glanced at the clock, calculating how long she had to get ready. What would she wear? How much makeup? The realization of how ridiculous she sounded made her slow down to actually look at the jackets she pulled from the closet. A conference call wasn’t a date. This one in particular was an important stepping-stone. Proving she could separate her thoughts, shut down the sexy dreams taking over her waking moments. With that in mind, she quickly chose a gray pinstriped skirt and pale-pink blouse and pulled them on over her boring cotton bra and panties, just like any workday. She ran the brush through her hair and pulled it into a clip. A little mascara and blush kept her from looking too washed out without appearing desperate for attention. Freshening her coffee, she sat down at her laptop in plenty of time and opened the files she needed. A text message came through a few minutes before the expected call. From Marc, of course. Are you appropriately dressed? Lori sighed. Just once she’d love to get a “what are you wearing?” call from a hot young guy like Brad or Marc. His wording made his meaning clear. She typed her reply. Yes. She didn’t add Sir or Master since her mindset was that of businesswoman. Her phone rang and she answered it on speakerphone. “Hi, gang. Are we all here?” “Hi, Lori, this is Joanne. Everyone is ready on this side. We’re discussing the Wilford account. Are you logged into the network?” “I am,” Lori replied. She clicked her way through to the Wilford folder and listened to the discussion, opening the image files as needed. The voices of her coworkers filled the air around her as if she were in the room with them. The meeting was brief as most of the work had been done already, and any changes needed were minor. In all, she felt as though she probably wasn’t needed, but was glad no one else seemed to agree. 58
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After disconnecting from the call, she stood and stretched. Most of her panic about being able to function with her changed relationship with Marc and Brad had left. Her head clearer, she mentally listed what she needed to work on the rest of the afternoon. She would definitely be going into the office on Tuesday and wanted to be current with her projects.
***** Lori’s phone rang shortly after five p.m. with Brad’s ID displayed. She answered quickly, before it could go to voicemail. “Hey, Brad. What’s up?” “How are you feeling?” “Better, thanks. I got a lot done this afternoon.” “That’s good.” Beeps and dings sounding through the phone told her he was getting in his car. “I’m bringing dinner over just to be sure you’re taking care of yourself. Are you at home?” Her jaw opened, but words failed. He was bringing over dinner. No offer, no invitation, just announcing the fact. “Look, you don’t need to do that—” “Yes, I do. And I’m not going to talk about it on the phone. We’ll talk when I get there.” “Okay. We’ll talk. I’ll see you in a bit.” Admitting to herself she was glad she’d showered and gotten dressed rather than sat around in her pajamas, Lori went to the kitchen to see what drinks she had to offer. She had no idea what food he was bringing, but she always had wine in the house, and probably could dig up a beer or two in the back of the fridge. Did beer have an expiration date? Brad arrived so quickly she wondered if he’d been stalking her at some point, but she realized he probably had GPS in the car, and they had access to the department members’ addresses through work. When she opened her door, his smile lit his entire face and Lori felt less irritated at his commanding manner. 59
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“Come in.” She stepped back so he could, and took the offered reusable grocery sack as he passed. “I bought some ready-to-eat chicken soup and fresh rolls from the grocery store’s deli section.” Brad took off his jacket and draped it over his arm. Lori reached for the jacket, hanging it on the hall tree as she led him to the dining table. “Sounds perfect.” She set out the soup and opened the paper bag containing the rolls, then got bowls and utensils from the kitchen. “What will you drink? Coffee? Iced tea? Wine or beer?” “Wine is fine.” When she had everything in place, she sat opposite Brad at the table and offered him the ladle. While dying inside to ask why he had come, she thought she’d wait him out and see what he said on his own. He did, while they sat sipping wine after their meal. “I’m guessing you were put off by my telling you I was coming over, rather than asking if I could.” She smiled. “You could say that.” “Yet you let me come.” Nodding, she waited, watching how his eyes studied her. He wore a steel-blue shirt with a paler tie tugged loose at his neck. The shade heightened his eye color perfectly and set off his tan. He must have handfuls of young women chasing him at any given time. Why was he there with her? “When was the last time a man planned your evening for you, outside of our time at Unfettered?” She had to think too long and too hard to find an answer. “I don’t remember. I know no one has picked up dinner without my prodding first.” “Did you enjoy the meal?” “Of course. The food was good. It’s nice to be pampered without making a big production about going to a fancy restaurant.”
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Brad leaned his forearms on the table and his voice dropped to a seductive volume. “You deserve to be pampered. Every night.” His gaze locked with hers. His words stroked her nerves. Realizing she had expected a confrontation, Lori let go of the protective cloak she had apparently put up when he called. Neither Brad nor Marc wanted to force her to do anything. They offered to control her pleasure—dominate, not domineer. But there was so much more involved in maintaining a relationship. She wasn’t good at the maintaining part. “It’s a nice dream.” He reached for her hand and stroked her fingers with a light touch. “Why dream? You’re not dead. You have choices. Opportunities. We’re offering you ourselves. That’s reality, not a dream.” “We. There’s a red flag right there. If I choose one of you and not the other, what does that do to our working together? You can’t tell me it won’t be awkward.” “We’re not suggesting you choose one. Choose us both. Choose to experience more than you’ve allowed yourself.” She shook her head. “I can’t see how it can work.” “Just because it’s new. Why not let it happen without forcing it to fit some preconceived notion?” He stood and pulled her to her feet. Drawing her close, he stroked his hands down her back, looking at her with trembling lips. His fingers sent velvety waves across her skin. “God, when you are so close I want to kiss you, rip off your clothes and explore every inch of you.” The desperate need to know his body, taste the flesh hidden by his clothing, overwhelmed her. Lori didn’t wait to see what he’d do. Rising on her toes, she pressed her mouth to his, opening her lips and thrusting her tongue deep into the welcoming warmth. The lightning bolt that shot through her rocked her to the core. Her knees wobbled. She grasped his face in both hands, and plunged deeper, moaning at the cravings awakening inside her.
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His mouth was firm against hers, his tongue meeting hers thrust for thrust. His sharp panting breaths rang loudly in the quiet. Lori clutched at his tie, tugging it free and reaching for the buttons behind. Suddenly, Brad grabbed her wrists and pulled away. “Wait. Not like this.” She whimpered. “Yes, like this. Hot, naked sex on the dining room table. Now!” Reaching for the zipper of her skirt, she looked up at him and tried not to pout. “Please?” He tossed his tie onto a chair. “We’re going to do this my way.”
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Chapter Seven Brad paused in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt and watched Lori cross her arms and exhale in a huff. Her eyes burned into his, her voice tight. “Why does this always have to be a game played by your rules? Why can’t we just have sex?” He put his hands on his hips but didn’t step closer. “It’s not a game. Far from it. And as I recall, you weren’t happy with ‘just sex’. That’s why you were willing to give us a chance to show you another way to enjoy each other.” “But all the flogging and dressing appropriately and all that, it takes so long. What if all we want is a quickie?” Letting out a long, slow breath, he reminded himself they’d only worked with Lori a few times. Learning the lifestyle was a long process. She was going to try his patience many times over the course of her lessons, assuming she allowed them to continue. Combing his fingers through his hair, he mentally backed up a few steps as he closed the short distance between them. “I wasn’t planning on making you change your clothes, nor was I going to run home and grab a flogger or cuffs. I’m assuming you don’t have either of those on hand?” She flushed and looked away. “No.” Picking up his tie, he draped it around the back of her neck, grabbed each end and pulled her until their noses almost touched. “Well, then, we might have to make do with what we have on hand. Ties make wonderful bonds, as do stockings, scarves…” Brad tilted his head and inhaled the sweet fragrance of the wine on her breath that escaped between her parted lips. His tongue sought her lips and he felt them tremble as he traced the fullness there. He pressed his mouth to hers, wrapped his arms around
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her, slowly enjoying the feel of her against him. She was so soft, so feminine, so much the opposite of the strong bossy creature she became at the office. “I like holding you like this.” He licked her jawline and nipped her earlobe. Nuzzling where her skin met her hair, he breathed in the scent of her shampoo and soap. No heavy perfumes masking her, just fresh and clean fragrances. Lori’s arms came up over his shoulders and her hands clasped behind his neck. She tilted her head, giving him room to play, so he did. Kissed the warm pulse spot, worked his way beneath her collar to lick and kiss and nip her soft skin. When he remembered her complaint about slow-moving sex, he lifted his head and met her gaze. “You wanted quick and here I am taking the scenic route.” She laughed. “Did you hear me complaining? It’s nice to be appreciated.” “Yeah, but it’s a work night, and while it’s still early, I can easily see spending hours and hours getting to know what your body likes.” Her brows drew together. “I’m not a schoolkid, I can handle a late-night now and again.” She pulled him closer and rose on her toes to kiss him. “I’m not stopping,” he said when he broke away for air. “I was just going to speed things up a bit.” “Good.” Lori worked the buttons of her blouse free with shaky hands. “Now, wait. This is where we went wrong the first time.” Her growl made him laugh. She tugged at her hair, twisting it behind her head then letting it fall. “Here we go again with the rules.” “Do you trust me to make it good for you?” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes.” “Yes, what?” “Yes Master.” “Very good. Always remember I am Master of your body, and I will see to your needs.” 64
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Lori raised her chin and studied him, neither smiling nor frowning. He wondered what she was thinking. He wasn’t pushing hard, didn’t plan on bringing a long list of rules into what was supposed to be casual, relaxed sex, but he wondered if he was being too lax. “Trust me, Lori.” She smiled, a thin, wavering expression, either giving in or still holding some hesitancy. “I do.” “Good. Now, take off my shirt.” Her hands didn’t shake this time and the buttons pulled free easily. She tugged the fabric free from his pants and set the garment on the table. Brad enjoyed watching her eyes move over his bare skin and he fought the urge to flex. Her appreciation made the hours at the gym a bit less tedious. His cock throbbed and he realized this was taking altogether too long. Reaching for his belt, he said, “Take off your panties and lift your skirt. Show me how wet you are.” Lori’s eyes flared and she did what he asked. With her skirt around her waist, she spread her feet slightly, her shoulders back and breasts upthrust beneath her shirt. “Are you wet?” he reminded. Sliding a finger between her pussy lips, she held it out to him. He took her hand and held it beneath his nose, inhaling her scent. His cock jumped. “Fuck, I love the way you smell when you want me. Sit on the edge of the table.” Unbuckling his belt and lowering his zipper, Brad dropped his pants and freed his cock, stroking it as he shuffled between Lori’s legs. He pulled the condom from his back pocket and rolled it over his hard length. “Lie back.” She did, and he raised her knees, spreading her thighs and lifting her butt from the polished wood. “So wet, and pink. The perfect dessert. Can I eat you, Lori?” Her hips rocked toward him as she replied with breathy words. “Yes please.”
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With a thumb on either side, he opened her more and ran the tip of his tongue from her wet opening to the hard nub of her clit. Delicious. He moaned, flattening his tongue to capture all her juices as he lapped again. “Oh God, yes,” she whispered. “Remember, you can’t come until I say.” “But, what if I can’t—” “You can control it.” Brushing his lower teeth against the hood of her clit, he felt her tremble. “You will control it. Tell me if you get close.” “We passed close the minute I felt your tongue,” she groaned. He laughed. “Then we’re going to find out how long you can remain at ‘close’.” Stiffening his tongue, he pushed inside, fucking her quickly while pressing a thumb against her clit. He lapped the length of her again and sucked her swollen nub between his lips, loving the squeals he elicited. “I can’t—oh, fuck, I want more. Don’t stop…but I’m going to…” Her hips jerked, following the jabs of his tongue, and she opened her thighs even wider. Brad pulled at her blouse and reached under it to cup her breast, rolling the nipple through the thin cotton fabric of her bra. He inched beneath it and pinched hard while biting down on her clit. “Oh!” Her body jumped. “Come for me, Lori. I want to taste your honey.” Fucking her pussy with two fingers, he continued to suck on her clit and twist her nipple. Her moisture flowed around his fingers, and her cries grew in pitch. “That’s it, let go. Let me see you come.” Her hips froze. Her pussy spasmed around him, clenching hard. She cried out, gasping, her body jerking.
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Brad straightened, wiping her juices on the condom on his throbbing cock and thrusting into her before she came down completely. “Grab my cock with your pussy. Fuck me.” “Yes, fuck me, please, Master. Please let me feel you come.” He hunched over her, leaning on the table and kissing her hard. He pushed his way between her lips and fucked her mouth as he pumped into her pussy. She was so tight around him, her tongue fighting with his as she grunted and whimpered. Her arms clenched his shoulders and she rocked her hips in time with him. He couldn’t hold back, but wanted her there with him. “Come with me, honey.” Her pussy fluttered around his cock. “That’s it, come with me.” He wedged a hand between them and flicked his thumbnail over her clit. “I can feel you’re almost there. I can’t wait, come now.” He felt her shatter around him, heard the wetness increasing as he pumped harder. His balls burned with the need to release. When she cried out again he let go. “Oh, yeah!” Brad thrust again, the sensation of her tight pussy clamping around him bringing ripples of ecstasy each time he did. His breaths came hard and he fought not to collapse on top of Lori. He let his head rest on the table beside hers but kept his weight on his forearms braced on the table. Her breasts rose and fell as she tried to recover. Sweat ran over his shoulders and he worried he was dripping onto her, so he lifted slightly. “Where can I find towels?” She began to sit up. “Let me—” “I can get them. You lie back.” Lori frowned but quickly recovered. “The bathroom is the first door down the hallway.” He quickly ran a damp washcloth over his cock after tossing the condom in her wastebasket, then rinsed the cloth to use on her. He was a bit surprised that she still lay
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on her dining table, as he’d instructed, given her apparent need to control what little she could. The acquiescence warmed him. She seemed relaxed as he wiped her juices from her thighs and cleaned her up. He patted her dry with the towel he’d brought, but was reluctant to pull down her skirt when he finished. Toying with her curls, he stole a glance at her face. She smiled. Returning her grin, he said, “I could get used to you not wearing panties.” Her eyes flared a moment before she frowned. He reassured her. “But not at work. We keep it all away from work. Maybe taking off your panties when you get home can be your way of changing roles.” “Roles? It still sounds like a game.” “Well, changing hats, then. Going from Lori the graphic designer to Lori the…what do we call you? I don’t like the term slave because it implies you have no freedom. But this is always about your limits. Your choices.” She moved to sit again, and this time he helped her up. “I don’t question that you and Marc are able to make me happy, whether it’s because of this domination stuff or whatever. I don’t know that I can always sit back and not make decisions, though.” Brad took her hand and led her to the couch where he sat beside her. “You are making decisions, though. You always have the final say in anything we do.” “I guess. But there’s another thing I’m worried about. What’s Marc going to say about us being here without him?” “He’s probably going to be jealous he’s not here. But he knows I came over. He won’t ask what happened while I was here.” “And if I sleep with him when you’re not around?” Squeezing her shoulders with one arm, he tugged her into a playful hug. “I’ll be green-eyed and blue-balled. But that’s your right, too. Neither of us owns you. But it
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would be respectful of you to ask permission before you allow another master to touch you.” She laughed. “I’m sure they’re just lining up to whip my ass.” He ran a finger along the side of her face, noticing how pink her cheeks were after having sex. “You’d be surprised.” “Well, it’s not a problem. I think two masters will be more than enough.” “I sure hope so,” he mumbled before kissing her.
***** Marc waited at the base of the stairs for Lori to come down on her way to her car. He and Brad had held back for the last week and a half, letting her adjust to working alongside them without bringing their private relationship into the office. And if he were honest with himself, he’d admit the wait was killing him. He spoke with her over the phone a few nights, and the three of them had lunched with two other coworkers one day, but he needed more. Having had a taste of her, even as restricted as their time at the club had been, he craved more. He wanted to take her to Blackie’s, alone and with Brad, but also wanted a tamer evening of dinner and a quiet evening at home. He recognized her shoes before the rest of her came into view as she rounded the landing and came down the last of the stairs. As usual, his body warmed at the sight of her. “Hey,” he called softly. Her face lit. “Hi.” He fell into step beside her as they crossed the empty lobby and he held the door for her. Once outside, he spoke. “Are you free for dinner tonight?” She met his eyes before putting on her sunglasses, but didn’t reply. “I know it’s last minute.” They paused under the shade of a tree. “I’ve missed you outside of work,” he admitted.
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“Yes, I’m free.” She shifted her purse strap on her shoulder, her arm remaining across her chest, and Marc caught the protective stance. “Anything beyond dinner is your choice, of course. We could go to a club, a movie.” His throat grew a bit husky and he cleared it. “Or my place.” Lori’s smile grew just enough to tug at his gut. “I like the sound of your place. But I’ll trust your decision.” His cock twitched, her words as good as a touch. “I’m glad. I’ll pick you up at eight.” Her tongue wiped across her lower lip before she nibbled at the rosy flesh. “What shall I wear?” Marc’s nostrils flared. He wanted to say nothing, but that would make restaurant dining a bit awkward. “A dress. With very little underneath.” “Will do,” she answered softly. They continued to her car before Marc dug out his phone to make a reservation at his favorite Italian restaurant. The dress she chose couldn’t have pleased him more. Spaghetti straps held up two triangles of tropical-floral fabric which covered her breasts. The small triangles let him imagine how easily he could slip a finger beneath and explore the soft flesh of her breast. The waist of the dress followed her curves and the skirt flowed loosely, catching the ocean breeze as they walked across the parking lot and into the restaurant. He’d chosen a spot in Newport Beach, a bit of a drive from her Los Angeles apartment, but somewhere they were less likely to run into coworkers. He didn’t care who saw them, but he knew she did. He sat beside her on the padded bench the hostess led them to, the tablecloth hiding them from the waist down. Just the way he liked it. He kept his hands to himself while they studied the menu and ordered. After the waiter brought their drinks, he stroked the fabric covering her thigh and slowly inched the skirt up. “Tell me about Lori,” he said. “Did you grow up here?”
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“No, I’m from Nebraska. I came to UCLA for college and stayed.” She toyed with her drink, moving the ice around with the tiny straw. “Were you an art major?” “Dual majors, art and business.” He nodded. That spoke volumes about her. Driven. Successful. “Do you use your art recreationally, or just for work?” He knew some artists who got burned out at work and no longer enjoyed it as a hobby. “I dabble in watercolors sometimes. What about you?” “I still love to sketch people. I’d love to do you sometime. Nude, if you’d let me.” She caught his gaze but didn’t respond. One day she’d be relaxed enough to pose for him, he was sure. He’d love to pose her on an X-cross or spanking bench wearing the shoes she’d worn the first night, and nothing else. He said so. Her cheeks colored and she cleared her throat. “I don’t know if I could stand in them long enough for you to sketch me.” “Maybe I’ll take pictures and use them to sketch you. Would that be all right?” She took another drink while the waiter set out their salads. “We can talk about it. Pictures are dangerous.” His mouth twitched. “And you don’t trust me with photos of you?” Lori must have caught the tone of his voice—her eyebrows raised and her eyes widened. “No, that wasn’t personal. Really. But I’ve never—when people break up— you know, I mean…” She let out a growl. “Can we talk about it another time?” He squeezed her thigh, his hand now on her bare flesh. “Yes. This isn’t the place for it, is it?” Her smile showed her relief. They talked a bit more about work while they ate. When she laid down her fork, Marc’s hand again went to her leg, stroking up her inner thigh.
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Her skin was silken, warm and smooth. The higher up her leg he went, the more she shifted to allow him access. When he found her curls, proving she’d not worn panties, his groin tightened. He had to fight not to leave right then and take her somewhere he could undress her completely. He was rubbing up and down her slit when the waiter came with their main courses. Marc kept his hand under the tablecloth, pressing into the dampness he’d just discovered, keeping an eye on Lori’s face as the waiter set out their meal. “Anything else?” the young man asked, looking first at Marc, then Lori. “No, thanks. We’re good.” Her voice squeaked. She reached for her fork, ignoring Marc completely. He noticed she didn’t close her legs on his hand, however. Waiting for the waiter to leave, Marc ran his finger deep along her slit before taking his hand back. With his other hand, he reached for the garlic bread. “This smells heavenly,” he said, leaving her to wonder at his meaning. Later, when they sat in his car at a traffic light, he glanced across the front seat of his car. “Would you rather go to my place, or Blackie’s?” She turned toward him, her face lit by the street lamp. “I’m not dressed for a club, am I?” “There are no clothing requirements once you enter the club. Some places require fetish wear, but Blackie’s is more casual. You could whip off your dress and parade around naked, and no one would care.” Her jaw dropped, causing Marc to add, “Not that I’d ask you to do that. I’d get jealous having other men look at your luscious body.” She seemed to sink into her seat as if relaxing again. “In that case, you decide.” “Are you sure?” She nodded. “Okay, then.” The light changed and he shifted into gear.
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Chapter Eight Lori listened to the song playing on the radio and wondered what Marc decided. The club or his apartment? Her pussy still throbbed from all his teasing in the restaurant, so her preference was to get naked and nasty as quickly as possible. She’d said she trusted Marc to make a satisfying decision, but actually waiting for him to do so was trying her patience. When the radio volume lowered, she turned to see what he was doing. His right hand sat on the gearshift, his left held the wheel. He sat casually in the seat, not really reclining but not sitting upright. His black hair hung free, once again tempting her to see how soft it actually was. She had yet to touch his hair, and needed the tactile experience, along with wanting to rub her palm over the stubble on his jaw, and taste the sweat on his skin brought up by a wild round of fucking. She sighed. It still hadn’t sunk in to her that this was real. She was in the car with a fucking-hot young guy who had designs on her body, which she planned to fully allow him to exercise. His voice brought her out of her thoughts. “Lift your skirt.” “What?” “Lift your skirt and show me your pussy.” As the car accelerated onto the freeway, Lori glanced around them. “But—” “That wasn’t open to discussion.” She noticed he didn’t tell her again what to do, but expected her to follow through. She glanced at the cars in the next lane before inching the fabric up her legs. When she had the hem in her fingers, she pulled the fabric above her hips, held it there for a moment and let it drop.
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“Is that what I asked you to do?” “I guess not,” she said, reaching for her skirt. “Turn in your seat and open your legs. Show me.” She did as he said, heat pooling low in her belly. The light from the dashboard and the flashes from the streetlights made her dark curls stand out against her pale skin. As she held up her skirt, she itched to touch herself and relieve some of the tension building in her pussy. She hoped wherever they headed was close by. “Very good,” he purred. His voice was so sultry she thought he could probably talk her into an orgasm. He said nothing more, so she shifted in her seat, wanting to press her thighs together or spread them wider, anything to further her toward release. He continued to glance at her lap then back at the road. Moisture spilled between her lips and she wriggled again. She was going to have a huge wet spot on the back of her dress when she got out of the car. “Touch yourself.” He spoke so softly she thought she imagined the words she wanted to hear. “May I?” “Yes. Let me watch you. Spread your pussy and show me how wet you are.” She leaned back against the door, bunching her skirt around her waist. She lifted one knee toward the console between the seats and reached between her legs. Parting her lips to the cool air, she sucked in a breath and brushed a finger into the wet, warm flesh. Her finger felt so good. Closing her eyes, she focused on the touch of her finger on her clit, flicking across it, feeling it harden. She told herself it was Marc touching her, Marc wanting to watch her come. Shifting lower in her seat, widening her legs until her knee hit the glove compartment, Lori pushed two fingers into her pussy and rocked at the delicious
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fullness. She was so horny, so needy, her awareness of the traffic around them faded, as did her need to please Marc. She pinched her clit with one hand while the other fucked deep inside her, curling and twisting her fingers and relishing the sensations spreading throughout her body. Her hips rocked in rhythm with her hand. Her tongue wiped across her lips. The familiar coil spiraled out from her clit, signaling how close she was to release. She began to pant, scraped a fingernail across her clit and thrust her hand faster. “Stop.” Marc’s voice cut through the sounds of her mewling and Lori blinked. “Huh?” “I didn’t give you permission to come.” His tone was level, no anger, but not allowing argument. “I-I’m sorry. I guess I got carried away. I need it so badly right now. Please, can I come?” “No. Not yet.” She pulled her fingers out but spread her juices around her sensitive skin. “But, Master—” “I said no.” He glanced into the lane beside them and flipped on his blinker, darting across the freeway. They were near downtown and he exited onto streets that were practically deserted. Lori looked around them, wondering why they were there, and if there was anyone around who might try to rob them. And why Marc was slowing down and pulling to the curb. He turned off the car. “Step out.” He exited without waiting for her response. She climbed out of the car, watching him come around onto the sidewalk. He grabbed her elbow and led her to the trunk of the car. “Put your hands on the car.”
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She did, glancing back at him to see what he was up to. He was so quiet, yet she could feel something smoldering inside her. She hadn’t really argued with him, so surely he wasn’t angry about that. Was he? Marc placed his hand on her lower back. “You questioned me when I told you to stop playing with yourself.” “I’m sorry. I’m so horny. First you got me started in the restaurant, then having you watch me play with myself, well, it was more than I could take.” “I know how much you can take. I tell you when you can come. You said you trusted me.” She tried to turn around and face him, but he pressed her down against the car. “I do. I do trust you, Marc. With my body.” Her throat tightened and she whispered the next. “With my heart.” “But you don’t. Not really, or you would stop when I tell you. You don’t trust me to lead you to the most enjoyment you can experience.” The knot in her throat made it difficult to respond. “I’m sorry, Master. The desire to trust is there, but it’s a skill I have to learn.” His hand cupped her butt cheek and squeezed. “I have to punish you, you know.” Her pussy clenched. What was he going to do, spank her here on the street where anyone could see? They were in the commercial district, the shops all closed, no one on the sidewalks. But anyone could drive by… When he lifted her skirt, the draft chilled her skin still heated with lust. She bit down on her lower lip and waited. Marc rubbed a rough hand against her cheeks, across her lower back and down each thigh as if relaxing her muscles. She tried not to tense, knowing what was to come. The first strike rang out before the sting hit. Lori gasped. He had spanked her. His hand continued to rain down on her ass, bouncing from side to side, until her skin stung. She tried not to cry out with each smack, but it was hard.
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Her ass began to numb to a dull burn, and she noticed she was getting wetter. Marc’s hand cupped over her pussy when he spanked her, the bite of the blow landing on her clit. Tension coiled inside her. She shifted her feet and opened herself to him. Rocking back to meet his hand, Lori realized she was going to come from the spanking. “Master, please—” He grunted and smacked her ass again. “You need to remember this.” “But, Master, I’m going to come. Please stop.” His fingers hit her pussy again and she whimpered at the delicious pain that filled her. “So close…” He moved behind her as the spankings stopped, and she heard the tear of a condom wrapper, then felt the hard tip of his swollen cock press against her. “Yes please, Master. Fuck me hard. Make me come.” “Wait.” He barked the word as he bottomed out in her, pushing her hard against the trunk of the car. She braced her feet and pushed back. “Thank you, Master. You feel so good inside me.” He fucked her hard again, thrusting and pulling back, holding tight on her hips. “Come with me,” he grunted. She let go and allowed the tension inside her shatter. Her legs shook and she flopped against the car as shudders racked her. Her pussy clenched around the hard cock inside her, and Marc groaned, pounding her once more before relaxing on her back. She heard him fastening his pants before he walked around to the passenger door and reached inside the car. Lori grew self-conscious with her ass and pussy on display, her bare cheeks cooling in the night air. But no way was she going to move without being told. Marc returned and wiped up her juices with paper napkins. “I hadn’t meant to take you on the street like this. I should have stopped…” He lowered her skirt.
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Lori pivoted and peered up at him in the dim light from a distant street lamp. “Hey, it’s kinda sexy knowing you are capable of losing control once in a while.” She cupped his cheek and he turned his face into her hand, kissing her palm. “It’s not something I admit to very often, but you, your body, you drive me over the edge.” She shivered as a breeze stirred. He rubbed her arms then urged her toward the sidewalk. “I mean, look at this, I have you standing in the middle of the street in downtown L.A. when I could have you home, in my bed.” She climbed into the car when he held the door open and buckled her belt while waiting for him to get behind the wheel. When he started the car, she asked, “Is that where we’re going? To your bed?” He reached across the car and clasped her hand. “If you’re still willing.” “Let’s go.”
***** The next month flew so quickly with a new routine of Lori seeing Marc and Brad, together or individually, after work and on weekends, and working beside them during the week. She knew their changing relationship had to be obvious to their coworkers. Just the depth of friendship between them had to be noticeable. Yet she no longer worried about it. If anything, she got more work done, had better ideas bouncing her thoughts around with them. Brad had an evening planned for them, starting with a visit to Unfettered, the club where they first got together. They hadn’t been back since their second time there, the guys being more comfortable at Blackie’s or at home. But Brad thought they would benefit from returning to the first club. He rode in the backseat of Marc’s car while Lori sat in the passenger seat. They were discussing the band on the radio when Marc slowed the car. “This is weird,” Marc said. 78
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“What?” Lori looked out his window to follow his gaze but didn’t see anything but old warehouses. “It’s not here.” Brad unbuckled his seat belt and leaned between the front bucket seats. “What’s not?” Looking out the windshield, he asked, “Where’s the club?” “That’s what I’m saying,” Marc answered. “It’s not here.” “Maybe you’re on the wrong street,” Lori offered. “No, right street, right block. It’s programmed into the GPS.” He pointed to the map glowing on the dash. “Circle around the block,” Brad said. Marc continued down the street and made the circuit back to the address of Unfettered. The entire block had nothing but deserted buildings with broken windows and construction fencing securing them. “It’s like it never existed,” Marc mumbled as he pulled to the curb. “Maybe they just moved.” Brad reached for the GPS and tapped some buttons. “But the building wouldn’t fall into disrepair like this after just a few weeks,” Lori argued. “Maybe we should call that phone number again.” Marc pushed the off button on the GPS, disrupting Brad’s search, and shifted into first gear. He pulled out into the street and slowly drove to the intersection. “No, we’re not going to call. We don’t need to.” “What?” Brad asked as he buckled his belt again. “Why not?” Lori asked. “We don’t need it anymore. They said it was a service for Doms and subs who need help. We don’t need help. We’ve got this worked out.” Lori studied his profile in the light from passing street lamps. She saw no signs he was joking. Yet how could he let go of it so easily? The club had been there, they’d all three been inside. And now it had vanished. It was creepy. 79
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Brad echoed her thoughts. “But dude, it’s gone. Unfettered vanished like Brigadoon.” Lori laughed and twisted in her seat. “You know Brigadoon?” He shrugged. “My mom was hooked on movie musicals. But don’t let word get around, okay?” He offered her the beach bum grin that made working with him nearly impossible some days. But tonight they were not at work. Marc drove silently, and soon Lori recognized he was heading toward his own apartment. She was surprised he hadn’t gone to another club. “We’re not going to Blackie’s?” He combed his hair back and glanced at her. “No, I don’t think we need it tonight.” “Oh, okay.” Brad chimed in. “His toy box always has something hidden at the bottom we can dig out.” Marc scowled into the rearview mirror. “I don’t have anything you don’t have.” “True. Although I bought a few toys after trying them out first at your place.” Lori smiled out the side window. Brad was a natural Dom, but so much less so than Marc, as to seem almost passive. Brad easily read her needs and answered the requests she never had to speak, but Marc seemed to know what she wanted even before she realized it. That was probably how they were able to work together so well. Neither threatened the other. And both satisfied her like no other men alive. Riding in the elevator to Marc’s floor, Lori studied their reflections in the polished metal doors. One man so dark, the other so fair, and both towering rocks standing beside her. How the hell did she get so lucky? The doors slid open and Brad gave her a gentle nudge. She walked between them to Marc’s door and took off her jacket when they got inside. Setting down her purse and jacket, she turned to the men to await instruction. It was the natural thing to do, now.
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Not anxious and uncertain where to sit or stand, she understood all would be explained. Brad turned on the stereo while Marc poured a pitcher of ice water and put it on a round metal tray with three glasses. “Shall we head to the game room?” She followed them to the smaller of the two bedrooms and watched as they maneuvered the tall wooden plant stand into a large X and snapped shackles onto the four points. Marc took a box out of the closet while Brad walked over to her. “Turn around,” he said. She did, pulling her hair to one side so Brad could loosen the ties on her bustier. He helped her unhook the side fastenings and tossed her top aside. His hands smoothed across her back and under her arms, then he cupped her breasts. Marc turned from where he worked just as Brad squeezed her breasts, and plucked at her nipples. Lori kept her gaze on Marc, watching his nostrils flare. If she were closer, she knew she would see his eyes darken with the smoldering emotion he tried to keep hidden. Brad tugged the zipper on her skirt and worked the tight leather garment down her hips. He nipped the fleshy part of her butt cheek and let her skirt fall free. She stepped out of it, wishing she could walk over to Marc. She craved his attention, too. But she waited for instruction. Holding out a hand, Marc motioned her toward the cross. “Let’s leave her boots on tonight, do you think?” “Definitely,” Brad agreed, following them. Lori turned her back to the wood and held her arms out to be snapped into the manacles. Marc worked the upper ones while Brad did her ankles, then they stood back and looked her over. That was always the hardest part, standing naked before them and not sucking in her gut or hiding behind her hands. But the lust she read in their expressions made it bearable. As did watching them undress. Oh, how she loved watching them undress. 81
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She stood in the same position she had when they’d first seen her at Unfettered, bound and waiting for instruction. Yet so much had changed. She no longer worried what they thought of her body. She didn’t fear the pain would be more than she could bear. Her trust was complete. Her need for Marc and Brad, immeasurable. She sighed and wiggled, adjusting her weight on the stiletto heels of her boots. “Um, Masters, can we get on with it?” Marc reached for a crop and Brad stepped closer to her. He held her gaze and smiled. “We’ve created quite a cocky sub, haven’t we?” Snapping the crop against his palm, Marc agreed. “And the last thing we need around here is more cocks. Are you looking to be punished?” “If my master thinks it best.” She loved the way his cock jumped when she called him Master. He brought the crop down against her hip and she flinched. “Thank you, Master.” “Very good,” Brad mouthed around the nipple he was sucking. His teeth abraded her skin. Her flesh tingled. Her breasts swelled and she arched her back, offering him more. He moved to the other side when Marc shifted to slap her opposite hip. Together they worked her body, alternating pain and pleasure, building her need for more of both. She tugged at the restraints holding her arms, hating the inability to touch them but knowing it increased her pleasure somehow. “How are you doing?” Marc asked. “I’m good. But I’d be better if my hands were free.” He grunted and picked up a pinwheel. The sharp points stung when he rolled it over her skin. He licked the pink marks, following the path he made. Lori moaned at the blend of sensations.
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Brad had moved behind her. He spread her cheeks, wetting her with lube before inserting something slender into her ass. Her tight ring clenched on his finger. She gasped and rocked toward his hand. Vibrations filled her anus. Brad leaned around to look at her face. “You like that?” “Yes Master. Almost as much as I love your cock up there.” She knew she was pushing it, speaking her needs instead of simply allowing them to take care of her. But sometimes they seemed more interested in the process and she was a results kind of girl. Marc tapped the flogger against her ass. “If I didn’t know you’d enjoy it too much, I’d threaten to spank you for that one.” Lori licked her lips and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. “I enjoy everything you do to me, Master.” His mouth curled in a snarl and he kissed her hard, totally throwing off her mindset. She met his thrusts with her tongue and tried to allow him deeper in her mouth. But he pulled away, leaving her panting with need. Brad returned to her breasts, kneading and suckling, then licking his way to her navel. He knelt before her, nipping the flesh of her belly. He spread her pussy open and dipped his tongue into her juices. “So sweet,” he mumbled. The manacles held her in place so she couldn’t open herself to him, and she wrestled for a moment before just letting him work. He thrust three fingers into her dripping pussy. “Oh God, Master C. Please don’t stop.” She regretted the words instantly. He did just that, taking his hands and mouth away. He rolled to his feet and glanced at Marc. “She really is mouthy today. We need to do something about that.” “I have just the thing.” Marc took something from the box and tossed it in the air, caught it, then came to stand in front of Lori. “Open.”
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She opened her mouth, only to have it filled with a ball gag, which he fastened behind her head. Her eyes widened. They’d never gagged her before. She tried to speak but the words were so garbled she couldn’t even understand. “Much better,” Brad said. “But it reduces the number of openings available to us.” Marc grinned. “We’ll just have to make do.” Lori rocked her hips, knowing exactly what they had planned and looking forward to every minute of it. Marc unfastened the shackles on her arms while Brad loosened her feet. They led her to an upholstered lounge chair. Marc sat first and helped Lori to straddle him. The vibrator inside her anus continued to send ripples through her. Marc massaged her arms, loosening the muscles, then he moved to her breasts, squeezing them and tugging on her nipples. “I love the pink skin here,” he said softly. Brad stroked her pussy, spreading her juices around and pressing against her clit. He drove his fingers inside. “She is so wet, so hot and ready for us.” He tapped at the vibrator where it stuck out from her anus. “Are you ready to have this removed?” At her grunted answer he laughed. “Imagine that. She can’t tell us what she wants.” Marc looked over her shoulder. “Grab us a couple of condoms.” She felt Brad leave then his weight pressed down again behind her. She heard the tearing foil, then Brad’s hands returned to her pussy. The two men worked her back into a heated state and she whimpered around the gag. She needed completion. Needed to feel a cock inside her, and two would be even better. Marc must have read her face as he lifted her hips and positioned her over his cock. She moaned when he filled her and tried hard not to rock her way to ecstasy right away.
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Brad pressed against her back. “Lean forward, baby.” He helped her stretch her legs and lie on Marc, his cock still deep inside her. Fingering her anus, Brad spread more lube and worked her tight muscle. When the hard head pressed against her, she focused on relaxing, knowing how much she had to stretch to fit him in. He pushed in and waited, then began to stroke in and out. She matched his rhythm and rode Marc’s cock, his hands on her hips helping. The fullness of two cocks made her that much wetter, that much hornier, that much needier. She bit down on the ball gag and rocked faster. The men were beyond words, grunting and panting as they fucked her. The familiar sounds of them getting closer to orgasm fed her own. She realized she hadn’t been given permission and panicked. Lori clutched Marc’s biceps and gasped, hoping he understood her plea for permission. He did. “Come for me, Lori.” He held her gaze, forcing her with his eyes to keep hers open and let him watch her come. Her pussy throbbed around him, her anus clenched, and she shattered. She screamed, jerked, and rocked on their cocks. Brad’s murmurings matched pace with his deep thrusts into her ass. He stiffened, shuddered, and groaned. Marc lifted Lori’s hips and pistoned his cock inside her, the wet sloshing sounds of her cum ringing out. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, pumping one more time. His grip on her loosened, then he lowered her onto his chest. She lay there, panting, listening to his pounding heart. Brad stretched beside them and she turned her head to smile at him. He pushed her hair back from her face and wiped at the sweat trickling down her brow. Reaching behind her, he loosened the gag and helped her remove it. “Can I get you a drink?”
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She shook her head. “Not now. I just want to lie here.” She placed her palm on his chest and watched it rise and sink as he caught his breath. Sighing, she planted a kiss on Marc’s sweaty skin. He smoothed her hair where the gag had been. Her eyelids grew heavy as her body relaxed. That surprised her. She hated sleeping at the homes of her lovers. Her past lovers, she corrected. These two were in a completely different class than the men she’d been with before. How right Marc and Brad had been when they told her what was missing in her life. What she needed. She needed them. Their ability to take control of a situation. To read her needs and take care of her. To let her take care of them. “I’m so lucky,” she said. Brad lifted his head and rested it on his bent arm. “How so?” “I listened to you guys.” Marc’s silent laugh rocked her and she rose on her arms. “What?” “The image of you, listening.” She gave him a playful slap on his chest, then ran her palm over the tight muscle there. Her fingers itched to explore their bodies any chance she got. “But if I hadn’t listened, we wouldn’t be here now.” Marc’s smile faded and his eyes darkened. “That’s true. We’re lucky you trusted us.” She glanced at Brad to include him in her question. “Did you have any idea how hard it would be for me to trust you?” “Yeah,” Brad said. “Someone as unbending as you usually has good reason for it.” Marc grunted. “I’d love to get my hands on whoever hurt you enough to put that wall up.” She gave him a quick kiss. “I don’t even think it was one person. More a series of disappointments. Bad choices on my part. I’ll own up, take responsibility for it.” 86
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“But that’s behind you now.” Brad’s hand on her back was reassuring, even when she hadn’t noticed her uncertainty. She smiled at him, and at Marc, but didn’t voice the question in the back of her mind. For how long? Until you tire of me? Marc nudged her chin until she looked him in the eye. “It’s in the past. You have us now.” Brad kissed her shoulder. “For as long as you want us. And as often as you want us,” he added with a growl. Turning her head, she let him kiss her until she had to breathe again. Then she rolled between them on the narrow lounge and let them show her just how much her body enjoyed them.
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About the Author Ari Thatcher is a native Los Angelean who is avidly approaching her cougar years. When she’s not hunting her next prey, she can be found writing down her fantasies. She hopes her readers gain as much…satisfaction…from them as she does.
Ari welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Ari Thatcher Death by Sex Demon of Desire Ellora’s Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy II anthology Honey Kyle’s Redemption Maui Heat Maui Rekindled
Print books by Ari Thatcher Ellora’s Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy II anthology Honey and Heat
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