Break So Soft: Break So Soft Duet

by Black, Stasia

  Fuck. I shouldn’t like this. After what happened to me, I should really find every bit of this repulsive. What the fuck is wrong with me that the crotch of my catsuit is so slick with my moisture I’m afraid anyone nearby might hear me squelch if they walk too close to me. I squeeze my eyes shut hard and breathe out a long, hissing breath through my teeth.

  But God, if I’m messed up, doesn’t that mean Jackson is too? And everyone else in this place?

  No. This is all just a game to them. They aren’t fucked in the head because they aren’t like you. They don’t have your past. Your damage.

  “Daniel’s interest in BDSM is the M. Masochism.” Jackson’s voice startles me. Even more startling? I’m standing right beside him. Guess my feet and subconscious made the decision for me. Then what he said registers.

  My eyes shoot to Jackson’s. “He likes pain?” I ask quietly. Maybe I was wrong and I’m not the only damaged one here. Or I just need to redefine my definition of normal. Real quick.

  “No need to whisper on my account.”

  I’m so surprised by the chained guy’s voice that I almost lose my footing. These fucking heels. And I just, well, I—

  I didn’t expect him to actually talk to us.

  After Mistress Nightblood ignoring we were there, I don’t know I guess I just assumed that’s how it would be with everyone here. Stupid really. God, what do I think this is, a zoo? Where we just go and stare at the wildlife? Way to be a bitch, Callie.

  “Oh?” I ask, hoping he can’t read everything I’ve been thinking on my face.

  The chained guy—no, Daniel, I correct in my head—laughs. For the first time I really look up into his face. He’s extraordinarily handsome, maybe just shy of thirty?

  He’s got lush, shining brown hair. Defined eyebrows and eyelashes so long they almost look fake. His face is the kind of handsome that makes me think of a beautiful woman. He’d come off as too feminine overall if it weren’t for his toned, very male body. But that body—damn, it just doesn’t quit. Bronzed skin, rippling back muscles that lead down to a ripe, round—

  “Oh yeah, I am a total pain slut.” Daniel smiles at me over his shoulder, showing off a perfect set of teeth that’d give a dentist a boner. “Jackson here can tell you all about it.”

  Is he answering a question? Did I ask one? Oh shit, I’ve just been standing here ogling, haven’t I?

  It takes me a second to catch up. When I do, I look between the two men and feel the line start to crease between my brows. Wait? These two? Does Jackson swing that way? I mean, not that I have a problem with that. I just thought… I squint up at Jackson, trying to see him in this new light.

  Jackson grins wide and then starts laughing, obviously reading my expression. “What did I just tell you, Callie? These situations are not always sexual. I know Daniel because we have a mutual friend who asked for my help sometimes disciplining him when Daniel was her sub.”

  “I was more than she could handle, you see.” Daniel winks at me. Fucking winks at me. While he’s strung up naked as the day he was born.

  A loud thwack echoes throughout the room. I look down and indeed, the blooming pink on Daniel’s ass indicates Jackson just spanked the dude. “The problem is,” Jackson says, “you enjoy the punishments too much. You intentionally try to piss your Dommes off so you can get more of what you want.”

  I glance back up at Daniel’s face. Is this really what he wants? His eyebrows are drawn together, his mouth open and instead of tensing at the pain, he looks like he’s finally relaxing.

  Without thinking, my eyes drop to Daniel’s nether regions. But there’s nothing going on down there. He’s not even semi-hard. I glance back up and see he’s twisted to look over his shoulder again, eyes trained on the paddle Jackson’s holding. Now I recognize the expression for what it is—not lust. It’s longing.

  He wants this paddling so bad he’s almost salivating for it.

  “Some Dommes like trying to tame a bratty sub,” Daniel says. He shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but with the way he can’t take his eyes off the paddle, he’s not doing a very good job of pretending nonchalance.

  Jackson tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow, obviously seeing through this guy’s crap. “Any good Dom or Domme is going to drop you like a hot potato once they realize you won’t stop trying to top from the bottom.”

  “Well, that’s why you and I make such good friends,” Daniel finally looks up, adopting the attitude he had when we first entered. Carefree. Fun. “You never tried to be my Dom.”

  Within moments, though, his eyes track back down to the paddle in Jackson’s hand. “Which is great because it means we can do favors for one another.” He grins back up at Jackson. “Shall we get started?”

  Daniel’s gaze moves to me, brown eyes warming. “I hear we’re breaking in a new Domme today. You can do anything you like to me, beautiful. Spank me, try your hand with the floggers, there are dildos of all sizes, I’m fine with bull whips and—”

  “Enough,” Jackson growls. “You can’t pull that crap when I’m around. No topping from the bottom. You want what this paddle has to offer, you respect your Mistress while you’re with me. Besides, you know this is just a first session.”

  Jackson snaps his fingers just like Mistress Nightblood did. “Scene begins now. Eyes to the floor.”

  Daniel’s whole posture changes. His eyes drop and his easy relaxed posture goes on alert. I also don’t miss the look of intense and focused concentration that comes over his face. I get the feeling that the Daniel I’ve met so far has been a mask, except for the brief glimpse of desperate yearning after Jackson first spanked him.

  I take a step back so that I can’t see Daniel’s face anymore. This is all just… There’s just a lot more to it than I could have ever expected. I mean… bull whips? Holy shit.

  “What is your safe word?” Jackson asks.

  “Red.”

  “And yellow if things start to become uncomfortable, correct?” Jackson clarifies.

  “Yes. Correct.”

  “Repeat the safe word one more time.”

  “Red.”

  Jackson turns to me and demonstrates how to grip the paddle. “Wooden impact implements like a paddle leave fewer marks but cause more immediate pain than leather. So it’s perfect for someone like Daniel who wants to repeat the experience as often as possible without having marks. That way he gets the most pleasure-pain out of the experience.”

  He explains all this so calmly, like a professor discussing a scholarly subject they’ve put a lot of study into. It’s good, though, because somehow it makes it feel easier to ask questions.

  “I don’t get it.” My brows scrunch together. “I mean, I get that some people might want less pain, but can’t you just use the wooden paddle more softly? Not leaving marks seems like a good thing.”

  Daniel snorts and Jackson shoots him a glare. “Not speaking means no extra noises out of your mouth, either, submissive. Show disrespect again and I’ll uncuff you. We’ll be done before we start.” Jackson’s voice is a bark, much harsher than his usual measured monotone and nothing like the gentler, passionate voice he uses with me.

  Jackson turns back to me. “Some subs like to wear their master’s marks,” he explains. “Like the collars. It’s another sign of ownership.”

  “Ownership?” I can’t help the hostility in my voice at the word. Every time I start to think that all of this is something I could be into, I learn something else that throws up a red flag. “No human being should ever think they can own another person.”

  Jackson keeps his eyes steadily on mine. “It’s called a power exchange. Exchange, as in, giving willingly. The most important part of dominance or submission is the bond of trust between the partners. Think of everything we’ve seen tonight.”

  He takes my hand and it’s a struggle not to startle at the warmth of the contact. It’s so oddly intimate. More intimate than what I’ve done with the handful of faceless men over the pas
t few weeks.

  This is Jackson. My stupid breath even hitches. Once he has me positioned behind Daniel, I snatch my hand back. Jackson doesn’t comment, he just moves around so that he’s right behind me.

  Again, the intoxicating scent of his aftershave encircles me. So goddamn masculine. His arm comes around me from behind and he covers my hand that holds the paddle with his. Damn, how am I supposed to breathe regularly with him this close? It’s so unfair that in such a short time, I’ve come to associate his scent with a sense of safety. There was a long while there where I never thought I’d be able to ever feel safe again.

  I want to pull away, but Jackson is back in instruction mode. “You want to have a firm hand, but the key to being a good Domme is learning to watch your sub for even the most subtle of indicators. Part of that bond of trust I was talking about is trusting them to signal if it’s too much for them to handle.”

  “The flipside is that they need to be able to trust you to be watching and aware, able to call it if it’s getting out of hand, especially if you are playing with more inexperienced subs who don’t know their limits yet.”

  “How will I know if I’m hitting too hard?” I ask, looking over my shoulder to Jackson. I can’t stomach the thought of hurting anyone. Not after being on the receiving end.

  “That’s why I’m showing you. You’ll get a feel for it. Plus,” he smiles, “Daniel’s the most willing victim you’ll find. If you hit him a little too hard while you’re figuring everything out, he’ll only enjoy it.”

  Okay. I manage a small smile back. I see now why he picked Daniel. I’m still not quite prepared when Jackson’s hand, still covering mine, brings my arm back and then lets loose so that the paddle I’m holding whack’s Daniel’s ass. Hard.

  My eyes shoot wide open. I felt that one reverberate all the way up my forearm but Daniel didn’t even so much as flinch.

  Jackson lets go of my hand. “Just so you know you don’t have to be afraid of smacking too hard. That’s nothing to Daniel. You don’t have to go that hard at first, but you don’t have to be afraid either.”

  I blink rapidly and swallow. Damn, I really wish there was like, a water fountain around here or something. I’m fucking parched. Then I ignore my dry mouth and turn back to the task at hand.

  Which, you know, is the ass in front of me.

  That I’m supposed to spank.

  Ever have one of those moments in life where you’re like: how the fuck did I get here? Yeah, I have one of those for a quick second.

  And then I get the fuck over it and start paddling the hell out of the ass of a stranger I just met.

  Chapter Seven

  CALLIE

  I don’t start out spanking nearly as hard as Jackson did. You might almost call them love taps at first. The smack of wood on skin still reverberates with a satisfying wallop throughout the room.

  “You’re doing great, but don’t be afraid to put more force behind it.” Jackson’s arm comes around me from behind again and I just now realize that the position isn’t setting off all my alarms like it has when other men have approached me that way in the past few months.

  “Alternating cheeks like that is a good idea, but remember the paddle is long enough that you can also hit both at once.” He demonstrates and then I try.

  I smack both Daniel’s ass cheeks with the long flat part of the paddle, right in the center. Daniel doesn’t flinch—more like a shudder goes throughout his entire body.

  I move so that I can check his face and gauge how he’s doing. Jackson said that’s an important part of all this and I don’t want to fuck it up my first run out of the gate. Daniel has his torso pressed into the brick wall, his head is slightly thrown back, and his features are a mottled mix of agonized pleasure.

  Okay. Wow. Guess everything’s good here. I don’t get it but at the same time—I look over at Jackson and the difficult breathing thing—oh yeah, I’m feeling that majorly.

  This whole thing is insane, but… Jackson’s only got eyes for me and there’s a heat that seems to match what I’m feeling. Doing what we’re doing… together… Holy shit, this is the craziest, hottest fucking thing I’ve ever done in my life.

  The Sahara Desert in my mouth only seems drier but another part of my body is making up for it with moisture in spades.

  “Why don’t you try with your own hands now?” Jackson’s breath is hot in my ear.

  He caresses a hand from my shoulder down my arm, tracing my forearm to my hand where he finally takes the paddle from me. “There’s nothing quite like feeling the heat of their skin. Feeling them tremble under your dominance.”

  He moves to my other ear, the heat of his breath on the back of my neck making goosebumps rise. “Try it. You know you want to.”

  My breath hitches. I’ve always found the low growl of his voice sensual. I twist around to glance up at him, but not at his eyes. I only make it to his lips. They too have always fascinated me. The way the top one is a little bit fuller than the bottom.

  Unlike Daniel, there’s nothing feminine about Jackson. Or the way he’s used those lips on me in the past.

  Jackson gestures with a head nod back to the naked man in front of us. Startled, I look at Daniel, who’s started shifting back and forth on his feet as if to get our attention.

  “Submissive, you will stand still,” Jackson orders, “Obey or the session ends now.”

  Daniel immediately goes motionless. I on the other hand feel like I can barely stand still, I’m so alive with too much energy pulsing just beneath my skin.

  The command in Jackson’s voice. Holy shit. So fucking hot. I want that. Which is… Just confusing. Because I don’t want him commanding me. So maybe I just want to be like him?

  Fuck all this thinking.

  I rear my hand back and really let loose on Daniel’s ass. Daniel lets out a low oof, the first noise he’s made all night. I don’t worry that I’ve hurt him. Even from the little exposure I’ve had, I’m pretty sure to him, that felt amazing. And it only sets off another round of crazy fucking adrenaline shooting through my blood.

  I glance up at the chains securing Daniel to the wall. I’m completely safe. I could do anything to him. It’s a total goddamn rush—even as I know that he trusts me not to hurt him because of these rules we agreed to before we started.

  God, that’s part of what makes it so good. I feel… free. Finally free. At least in this moment. But to even have a moment of freedom… there were days I never thought I’d get this.

  I can’t help the growing grin on my face as I spank Daniel again. This time I go a little softer but only because I want this to last. Daniel’s ass has started to turn pink between the paddle and my spanking. I try to work around to areas that are still white as I continue the spanking.

  Holy shit. Spanking. Just thinking about what I’m doing as I’m doing it gets me even more excited. This shit is forbidden. Completely taboo. Yet this stranger is letting me do it to him.

  “Daniel likes vocalizations too,” Jackson says, again in my ear. It startles me and more goosebumps shoot up and down my body. It’s been quiet in the room except for the sound of my hand meeting Daniel’s flesh. I thought Jackson had stepped back, but now here he is so close again, body warm at my back.

  As much as I enjoy his voice, his words puzzle me.

  “Vocalizations?”

  He leans in, so close that his cheek grazes mine from over my shoulder. If I thought I had goosebumps before, it’s nothing compared to the absolute shiver that runs through my body and straight down to my core at his nearness and what he says next.

  “This scene doesn’t have to be sexual, but it can be if it’s what you want. Humiliation is what turns Daniel on. You’re the Mistress. This scene is whatever you want it to be.”

  He pulls back and when I look over my shoulder, I see his eyes are dilated.

  Jackson wants me.

  I’m not the only one completely fucking turned on by what’s going on here.

 
Jackson lifts a finger and traces my bottom lip before dipping it inside my mouth. I let out a small growl and then bite down on his finger. He draws in a quick breath and he yanks his finger back, but his eyes don’t move from mine.

  Electricity sparks between us. Yet somehow I manage my wits enough to say, “If I’m the Mistress of this scene, stop trying to top me.”

  Half of his mouth lifts in a smile and he dips his head ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Mistress.”

  I turn my gaze back on Daniel, eyes narrowing quizzically. “Humiliation?” The question is addressed to Jackson.

  “Continue with your spanking,” he whispers, again in my ear, only this time he ends with a brief bite on my lobe that elicits a sharp gasp before he goes to lean against the wall right beside Daniel. He crosses his arms leisurely as he watches us.

  “You pathetic fucking pain slut,” Jackson sneers. “Bringing your sorry ass to me of all people. What a sad, sad little cunt. What? You’re so fucked up you can’t even find your own Domme to play with you?”

  I pause mid-wallop in shock at Jackson’s harsh words. But he just aims a glare my way and nods toward Daniel’s ass. I glare back and deliver a smack anyway, but not a hard one.

  “That’s right, pretty boy. Such a pretty face for such a fucked up little cunt. No wonder no one wants you.”

  All right, that’s enough. I’m about to go slap some sense into Jackson when he nods again. I think he’s trying to tell me to keep spanking Daniel but then he continues talking while gesturing.

  “That’s what makes you hard, isn’t it, you twisted fuck? Hearing me call you a cunt-faced pussy.”

  I move around Daniel’s side and see that Jackson’s not wrong. Daniel’s cock, which has been totally flaccid throughout the whole session is now standing at full mast—red, pulsing, and thick.

  My mouth drops open and I look at Jackson. He merely shrugs and then gestures to me like I should start talking now.