“It’s perfect,” Brittany enthused. “Maybe just a little tuck here at the waist.” She pinched a bit of fabric and George nodded his agreement. “We have a seamstress in back who can do it in fifteen minutes, tops.”
“Fine, fine,” George said, getting to his feet. “We’ll take it. The shoes too. Throw in a pair of stockings while you’re at it. We have another stop to make, and then we’ll be back to pick it up, okay?”
Hailey changed back into her own clothes, and they left the boutique, moving through the still-idling paparazzi waiting to catch a glimpse of the rich and famous buying their clothes. They drove along the wide, traffic-clogged boulevards, Hailey asked, “Where are we going now?”
He turned toward her with a wolfish grin. “To a little BDSM shop Ronan likes. There are a couple of things he wants you to pick up for tonight’s excursion.” One hand on the wheel, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, which he handed to Hailey.
She opened it and read:
Venus Butterfly
Vibrating Anal Beads
“Oh,” Hailey said, her heart skipping a beat. “He wants me to pick these out?”
George, eyes on the road, nodded, his mouth curving into a grin. “Yep. Parking’s a bitch where we’re going. If I can’t find a spot, I’ll try to wait outside the shop while you run in. Just ask one of the helpful salespeople to show you around. You’ll love it in there. A candy store for fetishists.” He reached into his pocket again, pulling out some crisply folded bills. He held out the money, his eyes still on the road. “Here’s some cash for the purchase.”
Hailey accepted the money, not knowing what else to do. She realized she was holding five one-hundred-dollar bills. “That seems like an awful lot for just those two things.”
“Oh, yeah. Ronan threw in a couple of hundred extra, in case something else catches your eye.”
Hailey slipped the list and the money into the small purse she’d brought along on the outing. George put on his turn signal and began easing the car into the right lane. “Okay, it’s just up here. I’ll pull up front. If I can’t wait, I’ll circle around and come back.”
Hailey climbed out of the car and stared up at the storefront. She’d expected to see a mannequin in the window wearing leather fetish gear and a ball gag, or something equally garish. Instead, the place was a nondescript building of beige stucco with a green awning over the glass front door. The words Mistress Jayne’s House of Payne was painted in gold lettering at eye level. As with the clothing boutique, Hailey had to ring a doorbell to gain access. A mature woman in a tailored black silk pantsuit peered through the glass and then opened the door.
“Welcome,” she said in a deep, smoky voice as she gestured Hailey inside. “What can I do for you today?”
Hailey swallowed, feeling a little ridiculous. Here she was, a fully trained BDSM sex slave, and she felt embarrassed to ask for the items on the list. “I’ll just look around, thanks.”
“Absolutely. Take your time.” The woman melted away as Hailey stepped into the space. The long, rectangular room was filled from floor to ceiling with more BDSM paraphernalia and gear than Hailey had ever seen in one place, even the fully equipped dungeons at The Compound. There were several other people milling around, some in pairs, some by themselves.
Hailey moved past the racks of fetish wear and the BDSM furniture and cages. At the back of the store she found what she was looking for—a large display of every conceivable kind of dildo and vibrator. She eyed the wares for a while until she saw the grouping of vibrating anal toys. Master Ronan had been working with her on anal training, and while she was getting more comfortable with his attention in that area, she didn’t love it. He had told her when she stopped resisting—when she truly gave of herself in that regard—the love would naturally follow, but so far that had yet to happen.
She shuddered as she eyed strings of anal beads as big as baseballs, wondering how anyone could accommodate something like that, and moved past the ping pong-sized beads, settling finally on a set of beads the size of large marbles. They came with a remote control and, the package informed her with exclamation points, batteries were included.
Next she scanned the area, looking for the Venus Butterfly. She had seen the clit stimulator used on one of her fellow trainees at The Compound who had trouble achieving orgasm. Hailey had certainly never had a problem achieving orgasm with Master Ronan—quite the contrary. Still, he wanted her to buy it, so buy it she would.
Her eyes moved past vibrators of all shapes and sizes with myriad attachments. Finally she saw the packaged item she was looking for. The butterfly-shaped stimulator was wrapped in clear plastic, and made from soft, purple rubber.
Items in hand, Hailey started to head toward the cashier’s counter at the back of the store, but she was distracted by a heavyset man who was holding the arm of an equally heavyset woman. He was running a kind of wand, its head made from a globe of glass, along the woman’s arm. As it made contact, it flashed and sparkled like it was filled with lightning, and made a crackling sound.
The woman shivered and laughed. “Oh, do it again! Do it again!”
“Like what you see?”
George’s voice by her ear startled Hailey, and she whirled to face him. “Oh! I thought you were waiting—”
“Miracle of miracle’s, I found a spot.” The woman tittered again, and George, following Hailey’s gaze, said, “That’s a violet wand. Ever have one used on you?”
Hailey shook her head, unable to tear her eyes away from the demonstration. The man had put a different head on the wand, this one a kind of roller with tiny spikes on it. Sparks of purple and silver light flashed as he rolled it along the woman’s inner arm. This time she squealed.
George chuckled. “I think we’ve found the toy for you, slave Hailey.” He strode toward the couple and turned back to Hailey. “Come over here. I want you to try this out for yourself.”
George was already introducing himself to the couple as Hailey approached. “And this is slave Hailey. She’s never experienced the shocking pleasure of a violet wand.”
“Oh,” the woman enthused. “You’ll love it, honey. We have three sets already at home. It feels incredible, especially on freshly whipped skin.”
“Want to try it out?” George asked.
Hailey swallowed nervously but nodded, her body tingling with anticipation. The man, who introduced himself as Master Franklin, removed the spiked head and replaced it with a glass head shaped like a mushroom. He took Hailey’s wrist gently in his large hand and extended her arm. She tensed as he brought the wand close to her skin. Tiny bolts of lightening flew from the wand, and a fizzing sensation tickled along her skin, just this side of pain.
“Oh,” Hailey said softly, though she hadn’t meant to speak.
The man laughed. “There’s that look,” he said with a knowing grin. “I call it the greedy slave girl look. She wants it. She wants it bad.”
Hailey, embarrassed, pulled her wrist away. George put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “She wants it good, you mean,” he said with a smile. “Which kit would you recommend for beginners?”
Ten minutes later they were in the car. They stopped at the clothing boutique, and this time Hailey waited while George went in and retrieved her new outfit, which he lay out on the backseat in its garment bag, along with a bag containing her new shoes and several pairs of stockings. Finally they escaped the snarl of traffic and Hailey breathed a sigh of relief as they headed back to Malibu.
She couldn’t wait to get home.
Chapter 8
The three of them sat around a circular table covered in a snowy linen tablecloth and set with gold plates and crystal, Hailey seated between the two men. She looked radiant. Her lovely dark blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight of the sumptuous private dining room to which they’d been whisked upon arrival at the trendy restaurant.
After a discreet knock, the waiter entered with the bottle of win
e Ronan had ordered a moment before, along with the menus. He uncorked and poured the wine, and then recited the specials for the evening. After they placed their orders, Ronan said to the waiter, “Please wait a half hour before bringing the food. We have an important meeting and can’t be interrupted.”
No doubt used to these sorts of demands from their exclusive clientele, the waiter nodded soberly and discreetly melted away.
As George regaled Hailey with an amusing tale from a BDSM party at the club, Ronan took out the velvet toy pouch and set it casually on the table beside Hailey’s plate. She looked from the bag containing the anal beads, the butterfly and a small tube of lubricant to meet Ronan’s gaze. He touched her arm with a single finger. Hailey instantly shifted her gaze from George to Ronan.
“It’s time,” Ronan said in a soft voice. “Use the private bathroom. Insert the items and bring me the remotes.”
Hailey bit her lower lip, but closed her hand over the pouch. Meeting Ronan’s eye, she nodded. “Yes, Sir.” Both men stood as Hailey left the table. She moved gracefully toward the small powder room just off the private dining area, her small, shapely ass swaying in the sheer fabric of her new gown.
In a few moments Hailey reappeared, a shy smile on her face. The way the light shone in the room, she seemed to be outlined in gold, and her nipples were just visible, poking against the front of her dress. Ronan’s cock stiffened as he watched her approach the table.
She placed the empty pouch on the table by Ronan’s plate, along with the remote controls. She started to sit down, but Ronan stopped her. “I want you under the table, slave girl. I have need of your services.” He pointed toward his lap. Hailey glanced at George, her cheeks turning pink, but after a moment she caught herself, and nodded.
Lowering to her knees, she slipped obediently beneath the table. She positioned herself between Ronan's legs and reached for his belt. He scooted forward on his chair to assist her as she unzipped his fly. Her long, cool fingers wrapped tantalizingly around his shaft as she pulled it from the flap at the front of his underwear. He could barely suppress the groan of pleasure as her mouth closed over the head of his cock and slid down, taking in his length.
Suddenly remembering the toys, Ronan reached for the two remotes. He flicked each one to its lowest setting. The faint sound of the toys coming to life whirred beneath the table. George grinned and mouthed, You lucky bastard. As Hailey’s soft, wet tongue slid tantalizing up and down his shaft, Ronan had to agree.
With a wink and a grin, George began to talk, updating Ronan on the latest gossip at the club. They’d scened together with women at the club, so he knew George was comfortable with what was happening under the table. Ronan listened with half an ear to George’s stories, his focus increasingly on what was happening to his cock.
He flicked the remotes up a notch, and Hailey gasped against his shaft, but she kept her focus admirably. It wasn’t long before he felt the tightening in his balls that signaled his fast-approaching orgasm.
He reached under the table and gripped a handful of Hailey’s luxuriant hair in one hand, cupping the other against the back of her neck as he spurted deep into her throat.
When he opened his eyes, George was regarding him with an amused expression. “Feel better?”
Ronan barked a laugh. “Oh, yeah.” He started to offer George a turn, but somehow the words stuck in his throat. He realized with a small shock that he didn’t want to share Hailey. Somehow in the past couple of weeks she’d become more than just a highly trained slave for hire. Though he knew it was temporary, she was his, damn it, and he didn’t want to share.
As if reading his thoughts and intuiting his feelings, his old friend preemptively let him off the hook. “I had a great session today at the club. That girl wore me out. So I guess that just leaves slave Hailey down under the table still in need of release.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve still got a few minutes before they bring the meal. What do you say? I’d love to see the lovely slave girl in action.”
“Oh, yeah,” Ronan agreed. “She’s poetry in motion.” Lifting the tablecloth, he looked under the table. Hailey was crouched on her knees, the anal balls and butterfly vibrating between her legs. “Clean me up,” Ronan ordered. “Then sit back down at the table. George and I want to watch you come.”
He dropped the cloth and sat back, sighing happily as Hailey licked his balls and shaft, and then tucked him back into his underwear, zipped his trousers and buckled his belt. Her blond head appeared, and then the rest of her as she lifted herself to her seat between the two men.
Ronan stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Lift your dress before you sit. Bare skin on the seat,” he commanded quietly. Hailey’s color was high, her eyes bright. Ronan wondered how close to orgasm she was from the vibrating toys doing their job between her legs, and how long she could hold out. It would be fun to find out.
She lifted the skirt of her dress and set herself daintily on the edge of the velvet seat, the heavy linen folds of the tablecloth hiding her lower half from view. Ronan rested his hand lightly on his slave girl’s thigh. She shivered ever so slightly at his touch, which aroused the Dom in him still further. He slid his hand between her legs. Her bare cunt radiated heat, and he could feel the steady vibrating thrum of the butterfly at her clit.
Looking at George, Ronan said casually, “So, tell me about the new sub girl you’ve been working with at the club. How’s that going?”
“Ah!” George said enthusiastically, his eyes fixed firmly on Hailey, “it’s going great. She’s into blood play, and I’ve been expanding my horizons in that arena. I’ve been studying with Master Leonard, the club’s expert in needle and knife play. Did you ever work with him?”
“That’s an area I have yet to explore.” Ronan glanced toward Hailey. “Maybe that’s something we should look into. What do you think, Hailey?”
He watched the war of emotions moving over her face—fear of needles, squeamishness at the thought of seeing her own blood battling with her masochistic need for erotic suffering and the desire to obey. For the moment, at least, obedience won, and she said in a low, serious voice, “As you wish, Sir. It’s for you to decide.”
“Yes,” he agreed with a nod. “When the time comes, I will decide.”
He flicked both remotes up a notch, and the small but unmistakable sound of the vibrating beads and butterfly hummed like little bees beneath the table. Hailey caught her breath, her body stiffening beside him. He lifted his glass of wine and took a long sip. “So, you were saying…” he said to George, barely able to contain his grin.
George said something poetic about the beauty of the flash of silver against the dark pink of the woman’s nipple, and then the sudden blossom of a bright red droplet of blood at its tip. His words were clearly chosen for Hailey’s benefit, if benefit was the right word.
George’s gaze was fixed on Hailey as he said, “Have you ever thought about piercing slave Hailey’s nipples?”
“She isn’t mine,” Ronan replied. “I haven’t the right.” Though the declaration came from his own mouth, he was surprised how deep the words cut. Hailey didn’t appear to have heard their conversation. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy, her body trembling. Ronan turned the toys to their highest vibration.
Hailey’s mouth fell open, a sheen of perspiration appearing on her upper lip. Ronan could smell the intoxicating siren’s scent of her arousal, and feel the answering tug of his cock. Unable to resist, he reached a hand into the low neckline of her dress, seeking her erect nipple with his fingertips.
As he rolled the hard nubbin between his fingers, Hailey shuddered, a soft, sensual moan escaping her lips. Ronan had a sudden, vivid image of lifting her from the chair and pressing her against the table. He wanted to yank her dress to her waist, position himself between her spread knees and thrust himself into her wet heat. It was all he could do to remain seated.
“Christ, you are a lucky man,” George murmured, and Ronan realized with a
start he’d forgotten where they were, or who was watching. He glanced at his watch, and saw they were only minutes away from the serving of the main course.
“Do it, slave girl,” Ronan commanded in a low, urgent voice, as he ratcheted the remotes to their highest settings. “Come for me. Come for George. Show us what a good, obedient slut you are.”
“Oh, oh. Oooo, Sir. Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir,” Hailey moaned. Her hands fluttered up to her chest and then clutched into fists as she shook on her seat. Her breathy moans and sighs wove into an erotic melody just above the hum of the vibrators moving in tandem against and inside her body.
There was a light knock at the door, just as Hailey stiffened in an orgasm that held her frozen for several intense beats. “A moment,” George called.
Ronan flicked off the remotes as George rose and went to open the door. Hailey slumped back in her seat, her chest heaving, her mouth slack. A small series of aftershocks shuddered through her frame. George stood waiting, his hand on the doorknob.
“Compose yourself,” Ronan said quietly to his slave girl, who at once sat at attention, though her cheeks and throat were rosy with a post-orgasmic flush, her hair tousled about her face.
As the waiter stepped into the room, his shifty eyes flickered hungrily over Hailey, seeming to linger on her luscious cleavage. Ronan resisted the urge to snap at him to put his eyes back into his head. Instead, he put his hand over Hailey’s and squeezed it with real affection. Leaning close, he murmured, “You were spectacular.” She rewarded him with a dazzling smile.
The waiter busied himself at the sidebar, setting down trays and maneuvering dishes. Hailey’s expression had once more smoothed to a serene mask. She smiled shyly at Ronan, who smiled back.
Once the waiter had gone again, Ronan excused Hailey from the table to remove the toys and clean herself up before the meal. While she was in the bathroom, George said quietly, “I have to admit, Ronan, I never thought I’d see the day.”
Beyond the Compound: The Compound Trilogy - Book 2 Page 10