by Kris Ripper
It had been better. And it wasn’t as simple as I trusted her more than other people, or love makes everything deeper, or some bullshit like that. But we knew each other, had known each other, for a long damn time. We had shared interests in the—cough—power and sex arena, if you will. A certain compatibility.
“I mean, Cork, it’s more weird that we’ve never thought about this until now. Don’t you think?”
Her eyes cut away. “You were interested in Alex, not me. If he’d wanted to be really dominant, I would have set that up. You know, altruistically. For the good of mankind. Not for selfish reasons at all.”
She would have, I had no doubt. But her answer felt evasive.
I pushed that away. “What do you want to do? I can’t commit unless I know. For safety.”
“You can’t know unless you commit. For…fun.”
“Hmm,” Alex mused. “Fun does usually trump safety around here.” He pulled my hand to his lips for a brief, dry kiss. “You’re sure we can’t have sex? For real this time. Not you two trying to pretend you don’t matter to each other.”
Jamie poked him. “Don’t peer pressure Jus.”
“What? I’m not!” He kissed my hand, a little less chastely.
“Alex!”
“He wants to have sex with us again. I’m just…pressuring him into what he wants to do.”
Jamie rose up, a vengeful goddess, and attempted to smother him with a pillow. “Slippery slope, you asshole!”
I came to his rescue, even though he didn’t deserve it. “I don’t feel pressured.” Or not nearly pressured enough, anyway.
“So?”
Maybe it would have been different if she wasn’t kneeling over us like that, golden in candlelight, dark hair wild around her. The lingering imprint of Alex’s lips on my knuckles.
“Yeh—” I cleared my throat. “Yes. But no sex. Just—just this. Whatever. That isn’t sex.”
She grinned. “Awesome. Tomorrow’s gonna be great.”
I carefully arranged my face into a glare. “Excuse me?”
Jamie flopped back down on the futon. “I’m tired. It’s late.”
“It’s like eight p.m.”
“I’m an old woman.”
“You’re thirty-two.”
“Practically ancient.”
“You mean lazy?”
Alex kicked me. “You suck so much at persuasion.” He rolled toward her. “Jame, come on. We have all night. If you work Jus too hard, you can take a break and keep going later.”
That was rude. “Oi!”
He ignored me. “Please? You don’t want to wait until tomorrow. Plus, weren’t we supposed to be doing things? From our list?”
“I challenge you to think of five things on that list right now.”
He paused, at length. “Forget about the list, that’s what I’m saying! No list tonight. Just us, and consent, and Jus’s inner thighs…”
“Oi!” I kneed him.
“That’s true,” she said, and while it sounded like she was considering things, I assumed she was bullshitting. “And what about you? Where are you in this little fantasy of yours?”
“Um.”
Which was a good point. In my more heated imaginings, I’d thought of Alex in such exalted roles as sucking my cock and fucking my ass. Both of which were currently off the table.
“Maybe I’m…moral support?”
“Hmm.” She ran her index finger down the side of his face. “Is kissing off the table, Jus?”
I groaned. “Yes. Dammit. Fuck. Don’t even talk about kissing.” Kissing Alex—being kissed by Alex—would obliterate my good intentions.
He raised his hand. “I want it recorded in my permanent record that I’m not pressuring Jus right now even though I could, really easily, and I’d totally win.”
“No brownie points for you, boyfriend. I do think it’s time you learned how to throw a flogger correctly.”
The world went a little hazy for a minute. What, like on me? Alex? Flogging me? I was so light headed at the idea that I almost missed his next words.
“I got okay at practicing, didn’t I?”
“You did, on the bed. But it’s time to graduate to meat.”
Alex giggled. “And that’s Jus?”
“Bet your ass. Or his.”
“Not my inner thighs,” I said imperiously, as if I would have stopped him if he’d wanted to.
But he shook his head. “I’m so not ready for that. But uh…I have practiced. I think I could do okay in other places.”
Other places. How quaint. Various other places on my body woke up as I considered them. Would I be standing, bent over something, as I had been the other night? On display and waiting for the tails? Would she have me lie down, on the futon maybe, supported and available for whatever Alex wanted to do?
“Tomorrow, lads,” Jamie said, far too cheerfully.
Both of us made noises of protest.
Jamie grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “This is gonna be amazing. I’ll go get the computer so we can watch a movie!” She hopped out of not-bed and went upstairs.
I made my voice loud. “Your girlfriend is unforgivable, Alexander.”
He smiled. “I know. She’s the best.”
Under normal circumstances I would have argued for the sake of arguing. Instead I just curled deeper into the blankets and relaxed into certainty.
Tomorrow. Yes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I LAY ON the bed in only my boxers. The better to recreate the circumstances of Alex’s earlier practice with the flogger. I shifted restlessly. “Is this a setup? You don’t usually pack a flogger for the weekend.”
Jamie grinned wickedly and crouched beside me. “I always pack a flogger. And more besides.”
She couldn’t be serious. Except of course she was.
“Oh Jesus.” I turned my face away. “Can we get this over with? Baby non-dominant people always go way too easy. I’m really just making a huge sacrifice of my skin right now.”
She giggled, fingers walking up the back of my neck. “Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that. We have a bit of a surprise in store for you, if you’re game. After your huge sacrifice.”
I made the appropriate sounds—exasperation and protest—but what I really wanted to say was Tell me what it is, damn you. If I did that, though, she’d know she won. So I didn’t.
“I’m totally nervous about this.” Alex came around the other side of the bed, so I couldn’t escape them. The flogger was clasped loosely in his hand.
“Just what I like to hear.”
“So I think I’m going to need, like, cuddling for aftercare. I already kind of need cuddling, just thinking about this.”
“Oh, for fuck’s—”
He placed his hand on my back. Placed it, with all deliberation and intent, right over my spine. Slightly north of where it had been before he hugged me in the doorway.
I swallowed my words.
“It’s like, on one hand, this is the hottest thing in the world, or will be, half an hour from now. When it’s done and I know it’s okay. But right now it’s scary as hell.”
Jamie should do something. Say something. Make it okay that he was nervous, tell him everyone feels that way. Especially in the beginning. And in some sense it never goes away. No matter how mundane you make it, there were always echoes of…something. Not deep meaning, maybe. But in almost every scene I’d ever done—even the lousy ones, even the ones that didn’t end up being hot or all that diverting—some small, quiet thing stirred the murk at the back of my mind. Reminding me I was awake, maybe. Reminding me I was in this moment.
I pushed up and held out my hand for the flogger. Yeah, Jamie would have decent stuff, of course. I’d seen bits and pieces over the years, bringing over coffee on mornings after they’d had company the night before, early enough to catch the straightening up. I let it sway back and forth at the ends of my fingers. The weight was just right, the balance even.
“I’ll lo
ve how this feels.” My voice came out more softly than I’d intended. “You’ll make it feel really good. It’s okay if you wrap the tails a few times, or whatever you’re worried about. It’s no big deal.”
“Sometimes they kind of…flop. Like in a bad way. I can tell just by watching that it’s not the way it’s supposed to be.”
I shook my head, swinging it in a low arc. “None of that matters. You’ll get used to it. And we can cuddle later, if that’s what you need.”
“What do you need, Jus?” He touched my cheek with the flat backs of his fingers.
“I…don’t even know anymore. I need this. You. Both of you.” No, no, abort, abort. I twisted away and lay back down. “The only way to do it is to do it, Alex. So just do it. I should get paid for that little product placement piece.” Stop talking.
“All right, lad. Let’s do you.” Jamie took over, and I could practically feel them touching each other in the air. “Move wherever you like, but given you’re right-handed, I’d start here.”
I lost myself to her voice and his in response. His nervousness was strangely charming. I’d forgotten how vulnerable it was, being new to things. Wanting them, but not feeling confident about getting them.
Though in another sense, wasn’t that me all over right now? Fuck. No. Let’s not go there.
Finally—finally—Alex actually started flogging me. And stopped. And hesitated. And was generally uncertain.
We probably should have been all encouragement and praise, but I didn’t have it in me and Jamie…didn’t.
After a number of murmured apologies, and variously flawed throws, he settled in to something a lot more like a rhythm. He couldn’t control the force completely, but in a way, I liked it. That he wasn’t practiced. That the flogger wasn’t doing exactly what he wanted it to, and it frustrated him. Kept him on edge.
It wasn’t arousing as floggings go, not physically. Being in love with a man doesn’t make his subpar technique magically amazing. But that he’d do it anyway, even when he wasn’t confident about it…had meaning. To me.
During one of Alex’s pauses to reposition, or berate himself, or whatever it was, I turned toward Jamie again. Just my head. Leaving the rest of me available, though he was only working on my upper back. “You like being flogged?”
She blinked. “No.”
“You guys mess around with someone who does?”
“We haven’t messed around with anyone in months. And months.”
“Then why has Alex been flogging your bed?”
Her head tilted to the side. “For you, silly. After that first night at our place, he wanted to give it a shot. He knows you like it.”
He knew I liked it. This. He learned how to use a flogger on the off chance he would—or I would—we could—
Jamie leaned in, kissing me lightly. “God, you’re daft as a brush sometimes. Alex, boy, go a few more minutes, then we’ll do the other thing we talked about.”
“What’s that?” I asked, even though it made me look weak.
“You’ll like it. I promise. I’m gonna show him something.” She rose, left my view, so I closed my eyes. She was giving him some sort of instruction—“Like this, and your wrist does that”—and this time when the flogger came down, I knew it was Jamie guiding it, not Alex.
It hurt. Not a lot, but enough. A little flare of fire and I forced myself to inhale deeply, as if I could expand to fill all the places I’d felt the falls strike. As if I could grow larger, give her more flesh, more nerve endings to act upon.
He tried. A few times. But it wasn’t the same, and clearly he knew it.
“I just feel like this shouldn’t be so hard,” he muttered. “Here.”
“You’re overthinking it. Jus, a little more?”
From Cork, thank god. “Yes, goddammit.”
She laughed.
This time the target was my ass and thighs, and sure, the boxers, and also, the bed, which didn’t quite push me, but Jamie managed to make me sweat anyway. Just a little.
“I think that’s enough warm-up. Now for our evil plan.” A smack. “Up.”
“Explain this plan.”
“All in good time, my pretty.”
I stood, and leaned against the wall of their bedroom, looking (I hoped) aloof and in control.
At least, until Jamie said, “Alex is new to floggers, but we played with this girl for a while who really liked paddles. He likes paddles, too.”
Which took me a minute to parse completely. “You what?” Or not.
She advanced, and suddenly my master plan of looking calm and together while backed against a wall was seeming pretty shortsighted. “You still have a thing for taking licks in the headmaster’s office?”
“Oh Jesus fuck, Cork.” I tried to look away, but she caught my chin and held it. I settled for glaring at her instead. “Are you joking?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“How can you possibly be serious?”
She shook her head. “No word games. I want you, boxers off, holding your ankles. So Alex can paddle your ass the way you want him to.” A half a step closer, and she was flushed, breathing fast, staring right into my eyes. “You do want him to, don’t you, Jus?”
“You’re a dick.”
“I know.”
My eyes drifted behind her, to where Alex was now sitting on the bed, watching us. Wooden paddle across his lap.
“If that fucking thing says Daddy’s girl on it, I’m walking out.”
He grinned. “We have one that says Slut, but I don’t like it.”
“Alex prefers function to form.”
I met Jamie’s eyes again. “It’s not the best way to take a paddling, you know.”
She shrugged. “Not from me, maybe. Because I’d want to hit harder. But you like the mental picture: you bent in half, and a big strong man behind you, whipping your ass.”
I did like the mental picture. “When did I…say that? I don’t remember telling you about that fantasy.”
“That game of one-up we played. We drank Alex under the table and kept going.”
“Jesus, Cork, that was ten years ago.”
“I know. We were younger then. If I drank like that tonight, I’d be down for three days.”
“I did it. A few times. The, uh, scene. Not the drinking. With guys who wanted me to grab my ankles. Didn’t really…do it for me. Not like I wanted it to.”
She brushed my hair back, not speaking. Waiting, maybe. For me to say something.
Alex cleared his throat. “We don’t have to. But I like that picture, too.”
Well shit.
I let my shoulders slump, like I was giving in. “I guess if Alex really wants to, we’ll do it that way.”
“Always you with the self-sacrifice,” he said. It was a little bit barbed, but no more than I deserved.
“And then cuddling.” Jamie backed away. “Maybe it’d be better if Alex was punishing you for something. You want to be punished, Jus?”
For so fucking much. “No. I don’t play stupid games when my ass is on the line.”
“Bend over for Headmaster Tierney,” she shot back.
And point. “Okay, I only place a certain kind of stupid game. Whatever.”
Alex stood. “Wait. Just.”
I straightened at his approach. “You backing out?”
“What do you think?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you like paddles?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were in love with me?”
I huffed. “I fucking did.”
“Forfeit. And you know what I mean.”
“Because it started when we were kids. I was supposed to stop feeling that way, but it only got worse.”
“I’m pretty sure you mean better.” He kissed me. Not in violation of our agreement. Light, chaste. No tease. “Just, if you had, things would have been different. And probably I’d know how to use a flogger by now.”
“You’re seriously blaming me for your lack o
f kinky imagination? I’m not responsible for that.”
He shook his head. “You, naked, bent over. That’s really hot. But you can lean on something if that makes it better for you.”
Oh, the possibilities. But she’d been right, and this fantasy was old. As old as crushing on teachers and jerking off to the thought of them scolding me for getting a low score on a test. “This is good.” I rolled my shoulders, grateful for the heater humming in the corner; even in the middle of the day, it was cold. “I should—”
“I could do that.” Jamie, suddenly behind me. “If you want me to.” Her hands rested featherlight on my hips.
My breaths stumbled. “I…yeah.”
It was a nothing thing, Jamie pushing my shorts down. A nothing thing that raised goosebumps over all of my skin.
I was now exposed to both of them, front and back, nowhere to hide. And it was hot as hell. Since I couldn’t very well cup a hand over my hard dick and ask about the weather, I struck a pose instead, executing a pelvic bump at Alex. “Want some of this, mister?”
“Yeah. But I can’t have it.”
Ugh. Feelings again. I rolled my eyes and turned around. It took a minute or two to find the right stance, stable, exposed, able to settle in without being comfortable, exactly. Too comfortable would ruin it.
My head was upside down. I’d forgotten how disorienting that felt.
“Oh my god.” Alex skimmed his hand up my back. “This is…you…Jus…”
It was hard to huff in my position, but I gave it my best. “You want to get on with it at some point today?”
“Maybe not. Because this…” The hand on my back slid down my ass. I shuddered. “Oh god.”
Snark deserted me. “Please, Alex.”
“Yeah. Right. I got this.” Shifting, movement, some damn thing.
He kissed my back.
“Sorry, just, seeing you like this is intense. Anyway. I’m gonna start slowly, since I don’t really know how it works with you in that position.”
Just do it. But I didn’t speak.
He left a hand on my back and got me one solidly to my ass, considerately warmed up by Jamie. And then he kept going.
We could have done a role play, a real one. That would have been hot. Alex in a suit, the stern headmaster. Jamie could be his assistant, and could wear her fake glasses and take care of the details, like undressing me. I, of course, would be contrite and beg them to let me off easy this one time.