by Poppy Flynn
Connor was sitting in one of the comfortable lounge areas, trying, for all the world, to look as if he was taking a genuine interest in the kinky proceedings all around and trying to kid himself that he hadn't positioned himself in the most convenient spot to check who entered the dungeon area. He definitely wasn't watching to see if Fluff was going to put in an appearance at the club tonight. Well, that's what he told himself, anyway.
For the entire week, Connor had felt like a pressure cooker that was about to explode. It had affected his work, and it had affected his sleep. Well, what little bit of sleep he was managing to get, anyway, so maybe it was more honest to say that it was contributing to his continued lack of sleep.
His usually laid back and cheerful manner had hit the high road and hadn't been seen for days, and it was affecting his working relationship with all of his colleagues, not just Laurel. Although she took the brunt of it, since they worked in such close proximity.
Not that she did anything to help matters, Connor reminded himself bitterly. She was just as likely to deliberately rub him the wrong way or to pick an argument as he was.
In fact, he sometimes got the distinct feeling that she deliberately poked at him in order to make him lose control, although there was nothing he could definitively point a finger to. Of course, when that happened, Connor was all the more likely to lose it, and that's when all hell broke loose.
He still couldn't believe he'd ripped off her panties and spanked her, in plain sight in front of his desk, or fucked her senseless in the stationary closet. Although that latter event had most definitely been her own doing.
Not that that was any better, of course. But Connor was still reeling from the fact that he had allowed her to direct that scenario. Talk about topping from the bottom! He was still in shock that he had allowed her to get away with it. Christ, what sort of a Dom was he? A damn poor excuse for one right now, that was for sure!
Connor wasn't sure that he had any right to be here tonight—or any night, just at this moment in his life—when his moral compass seemed to have broken and a whole pit full of dark and barely tamed emotions were swirling around inside of him just waiting to drag him under.
He could feel his heart beating unusually fast at the mere thought of having Fluff under his control here tonight, and with it, there was just a raw hint of panic and the barest modicum of controlled awareness that it definitely wasn't a good idea.
Not that they had made any arrangements, of course. He had at least managed to stop himself from going that far, so she might not even turn up. It might be better for both of them if she didn't.
Of course, on the other side of the seesaw that had become his life right now was the almost desperate need Connor felt to lose himself in a scene where he was one hundred percent in control. To feel that calming discipline course through his veins, granting him the relief and release he so desperately needed after this awful week and a half.
Connor didn't know quite what was going on inside his head, but he did know that it definitely wasn't healthy. There was a darkness and a panic that seemed to pervade the edges of his very sanity and he didn't know how to contain it. It was encroaching into every second of his day, and the more it crept in, the more it took over.
Right now, there were a few tiny little oases of calm that were like bright patches of relief in the otherwise uncontrolled bedlam that seemed to be invading his brain. If he thought about it, Connor might admit that the intensity of that chaos was starting to scare him. But he downright refused to consider such things. He was in control. He was always in control. That was it. There was no wiggle room in that mentality. It was just the way it had to be. The way he demanded it stay for the sake of his very sanity.
And that meant keeping Laurel—Fluff, he needed to think of her as Fluff to maintain that distance he so desperately needed—that meant keeping Fluff at a good arm's length.
He did not need her! He didn't need any woman, and he never would. He had promised himself that, years ago.
Hadn't he been just fine after his mother had died? Sure, he had been a sad, quiet little boy, desperate for a little bit of affection, but that wouldn't have killed him. He had still been whole, at least before Rayleen came along and promised him the world, before she had promptly destroyed it and stolen what little bit of his father that still remained accessible to him.
In that aftermath, he had promised himself that he would never make himself vulnerable to the opposite sex. He had seen what it did to other men around him. He had seen how it had turned his father into a mean, cold-hearted bastard, seen how letting a woman too closely into their lives had had such severe consequences for both of the Blackwood cousins. Jake had his reputation and then his career shredded by a lying, conniving reporter who had led him to the slaughter, and Joel had almost thrown away his entire future and freedom over a slip of a girl who had turned tail and run out on him. Sure, he and Desi had kissed and made up over a decade later and were now betting on their own happily ever after and Connor wished them luck. He really did, because he liked both of them and he didn't want either of his friends to end up being let down by the other. But the stakes were just too high for him to make the same kind of bets with his own life. Whatever he felt for Laurel, it was not love! If his pulse quickened and his cock thickened just because she was close—hell, sometimes just because he thought about her—then it was just lust. If he missed her almost as much as he might miss his right arm, then it was just because their kink style was so in tune and she made herself so readily available to him when he was on the east coast. There was no need to read anything else into it. The fact that he still didn't have any interest in either dating or scening with another woman just meant that he hadn't quite managed to get her out of his system yet. But he would, and it would surely be soon, the way everything between them was starting to deteriorate. The way they clashed and quarrelled must surely be the beginning of the end. The cloying need he sometimes felt to be sheathed inside her delectable body was just his subconscious trying to make the most of the final little bit of time they had together before things came to their inevitable conclusion. She was nothing to him except a convenient fuck buddy, and if his subconscious tried to tell him that he was protesting too much, then he'd just bury that fucker in some part of his mind where he didn't have to listen.
How many times had he told himself that she wasn't suitable wife material, after all? And wasn't that the truth?
Right now, Connor felt another one of his subconscious senses twang and he automatically turned his head towards the door, his eyes zeroing in on the woman in question.
It didn't mean anything, he told himself obstinately. He had just picked up on a movement out of the corner of his eye. Well, that's what he tried to convince himself, even though dozens of other members had entered through those same doors without creating so much as a stir.
He watched her look around the room until her cornflower blue gaze clashed with his. If his breath had caught at the sight of her, it was just because those delectably voluptuous breasts of hers were plated up ready for him to feast on and he felt like a starving man.
Connor let out an audible growl as he noticed a few of the other Doms in the room give Fluff the once over, speculation clear in their covetous glances. That wasn't jealousy. Oh no, that was just a natural possessiveness because she was his! Connor frowned at the thought that had just popped into his head as he climbed to his feet and stalked towards her. Context, he argued with himself. It was all about context. He hadn't meant that she belonged to him, just that she was his to play with, for now.
Squelching all of the clamouring voices inside his head that were becoming louder and louder with each passing day, Connor went to claim his sub, glowering at any man who dared to look at her along the way. Not that he was possessive by any stretch of the imagination, and he was going to prove it to both of them by finding another Dom to share a scene with them.
Tied, spread eagle, with her back to a St And
rew's cross, thirty minutes later, while Master X bound her now naked breasts tightly with a length of the scratchiest hemp rope it had ever been her misfortune to come into contact with, Laurel wondered what the hell she had let herself in for. The damn stuff had already started to make her wriggle, and every time she did, it just prickled even more.
Well, he was a damn sadist, so she guessed that was the point. And wasn't that the other big question? Why on earth had she agreed to scene with a sadist as a third. She wasn't a damn masochist—well, not to the extent that Master X required. And what was in this for him, for that matter? Pretty much everyone knew that Xavier was looking for a 24/7 slave contract…but with a submissive that didn't live with him.
Was that even a thing? Laurel couldn't quite see how a club contract for a full-time slave could ever work, but then again, right now, she had more pressing things to worry about. Like what on earth had possessed her to think this scene Connor had negotiated would be a good idea.
Oh, yeah…it was that excited, gleeful little look in his eyes after he'd been so goddamn grumpy all week. That, and his obvious enthusiasm to play with her, which she hadn't been entirely sure might be the case. And didn't this just prove that she was willing to do just about anything for the big lug? Jeez, she had it bad!
Currently, Connor stood by, watching Master X go to work on the breast binding, his arms folded across the wide expanse of his delectably bare chest and his face an inscrutable mask. Laurel couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind right now. Threesomes weren't entirely her thing, but she wasn't particularly opposed to them, either, so this wasn't her first rodeo.
Since Desi had admitted to having a ménage scene, which involved Connor, she knew he obviously wasn't averse, either, but Laurel could only guess at his own experiences. That, however, brought a fierce and raging jealousy thundering to the fore, so it was best to avoid that particular speculation.
She wasn't quite sure how she felt about all of this in relation to her own relationship with Connor. She wasn't quite in a comfortable place mentally, despite her quick agreement to the terms of their negotiations. She wanted him so much it was like a physical ache inside of her and she prayed, in a place deep down in her soul, that this wasn't a measure of desperation on her part.
"There's a good girl, nearly done now, sweetheart," Master X crooned in an eerily comforting voice that belied his thoroughly wicked disposition. It was a juxtaposition that Laurel suspected kept more than one little masochist totally off balance.
He was a good-looking guy, though he was probably almost old enough to be her father, maybe in his early forties. Although he was primarily a sadist, he preferred the younger subs since he had a bit of a Daddy Dom thing going on, too.
His dark hair was greying slightly at the temples, which gave him a distinguished, gentlemanly look that might have made Laurel laugh at the irony if she wasn't currently at his mercy.
She'd never played with him before, simply because she'd always thought herself to be far too tame for his tastes. Plus, he'd been an infrequent visitor to the club in the days before it had been sold and renovated into its current construct. Obviously, the new management style, security, and diversity were far more to his liking since he was now a recognisable fixture.
He was in excellent shape with a lean, sinewy body and powerful arms that Laurel didn't doubt could inflict some serious punishment. Once again, she wondered exactly what she was doing here. Well, apart from participating in an MMF threesome complete with breast bondage and preparing to have the swiftly reddening globes, which were already swelling within their confines, thrashed by a sadist. Yeah, nothing to worry about there. Much.
So, sarcasm was her friend right now. Who the hell cared, anyway? It was all inside her head.
"Are you sure about that, sweetheart?" Master X whispered from beside her, his breath hot in her ear as he pinched the nipple of one of her rapidly engorged breasts.
Laurel started and whipped her head around to look at him. Surely, she hadn't said any of that out loud, had she?
He just grinned wickedly and winked before pressing a red ball into her hand to use in lieu of a safe word since he was also busy stuffing a dildo shaped gag into her mouth and tightening the straps. Well, no chance of making that mistake again.
Connor just stood there and watched. No expression crossed his face and his body was unnaturally still as Master X went to work flogging breasts, which were now ultra-sensitive, thanks to the breast bondage.
Laurel had just about found the right balance and head space when Xavier changed everything up on her and started thrashing the pebbled, berry bright tips with a riding crop. The new sensation caught her off guard and she screamed around the gag. She thought she caught Connor flinch out of the corner of her eye, but when she focussed, he was as blank faced as ever, so she must have been mistaken.
The Master worked her over and Laurel allowed her mind to concentrate on not drooling around the gag, which meant sucking for all she was worth on the dildo in her mouth. She allowed the task to take her mind off the excruciating pain she was feeling. She was pretty sure she must have raccoon eyes by now, since the tears were falling unchecked down her face, and Laurel wondered vaguely why it seemed more important not to be seen with a runny nose and drool than giving in to the pain. Pride was a funny animal.
Finally, Connor strode up and made some kind of signal to Xavier. Thank God! As much as Laurel wanted to please him, she was at the very edge of her threshold. Much longer and she would have safeworded out. Vaguely, from where she was now floating inside her head, she wondered if he could tell.
Unstrapping the cuff around her wrists and freeing her from the cross, Laurel's knees gave out underneath her, but it seemed that had been Connor's intention, since he stalked around in front of her, pulled her from her slump into a higher kneeling position, by using her ponytail like a rope, and then removed the gag, only to replace the silicone dildo with his own purple headed cock. If she thought her jaw had been aching before from the forced position around the rubber toy, that was nothing compared with how it had to stretch wide to accommodate Connor's dick. And he didn't appear to be in the mood to go slow, either.
He pressed in inexorably, deeper and deeper, not bothering to pull out at all, just feeding her his length until he hit the back of her throat and her gag reflex kicked in. Laurel tried to control it. Usually, she didn't have any trouble deep throating, but Connor was built on a different scale to most guys and her jaw was stretched so wide, she had trouble relaxing her throat enough to allow herself to breathe through her nose. She swallowed convulsively around his shaft in an effort for control and heard the low groan he gave at the sensation. His obvious pleasure was all she needed to redouble her efforts. Laurel tongued the vein on the underside of his cock, sure she could feel the pulsing of his lifeblood underneath her tongue and it gave her a feeling of absolute euphoria that she could bring him this pleasure. Her eyes streamed, but Laurel simply gave herself over to Connor's control. She was his to do with as he wished. Her only desire was to serve and to please him in any way he desired.
Laurel was only vaguely aware of Master X moving around behind her. Her head was in an alternative space right now. Not quite subspace, but her capacity for conscious thought was certainly diminished, and Connor's voice came to her as if from a distance.
"I was fortunate enough to have this same mind-blowing experience a few months ago," he murmured, and she wasn't entirely sure if he was actually addressing her or Xavier. "I've been wanting to try it again ever since."
She only heard an indistinguishable rumble of response from the sadist and it took a while for her fuzzy brain to comprehend what Connor had just revealed. When she did, the understanding that he had done this with another woman tore into her like a kick to the gut and she let out a pitiful mewl as if she were an animal in pain. She was in pain; it just wasn't physical. For a moment, the tears that still streamed down her face were emotional, but a moment la
ter, they were replaced by the shock of a line of fire searing across her back and the next scream was one of shock. The screams that tore from her throat with each brand of Master X's whip thereafter were screams of reaction and every other cohesive thought was wrenched from her mind as she tried to regain her equilibrium.
"That's right, pet, scream around my cock and make me come," Connor demanded, his voice no more than a low growl as he pumped in and out of her widely stretched mouth, controlling her by her ponytail, which was wrapped around his fist like a rope, while his other hand wrapped possessively around her throat.
He pulled out before he reached that culmination, however, and pushed her over the spanking bench, which was next to them. Laurel could barely manage to process her scattered feelings. Right now, uppermost in her conscious thoughts was pure relief that her jaw was being rested after being forced open, first by the dildo gag, and then by Connor's huge member. She resisted the urge to rub it, but surreptitiously wiggled it from side to side to relieve it.
"Time to let Master X experience that delectable mouth of yours," Connor commanded.
Looked like her jaw wasn't getting that much of a rest, Laurel thought wryly as she settled herself into as comfortable a position as possible over the piece of apparatus she had been manoeuvred onto. Her breasts were now throbbing as much from the bondage as from the lashing they had taken, and their colour was beginning to deepen. Now that she had time to think about it again, the scratchy rope felt doubly uncomfortable and her nipples were hard and engorged and so ultra-sensitive that she couldn't help wondering how much longer they would leave the bindings in place.
As if he could read her thoughts, Connor reached down and squeezed the engorged tips between his finger and thumb, twisting the tender nibs until she was on the very edge of excruciating painful pleasure and unable to identify which sensation was which as they blended into one overwhelming need. Her pussy clenched hungrily, desperate to be filled and Laurel could feel the evidence of her own desire dripping down her spread thighs.