Quantum Series Boxed Set, Books 1-7

by Marie Force

  I remember seeing them online. “Why is he alone?”

  “His Domme is keeping him waiting. She’s building the anticipation, which is one of many tools in the dominant’s war chest. I thought you might like to see an example of female domination.”

  Another five minutes go by, during which my anxiety spikes right along with the man strapped to the cross, before a door on the other side of the room opens. In walks a blond woman wearing platform heels and a leather outfit that accentuates her generous curves. The man on the cross begins to tremble at the sight of her, and I watch in stunned amazement as his cock hardens.

  Devon presses a button on the wall that allows us to hear what they’re saying.

  “That’s very unfortunate,” she says, glancing at his cock with utter disdain. “It’ll make getting this ring on very painful.”

  “No, Mistress, please. Please don’t hurt me.”

  “You did this to yourself, so save the begging for someone who cares.”

  “She won’t really hurt him, will she?” I ask, horrified for him.

  “Just watch,” Devon says as Tenley’s arm encircles my waist.

  I wonder why she feels the need to offer comfort, but soon I see why as the mistress works the tight rubber cock ring down the length of his cock. He screams and begins to cry. I don’t know what to do. Surely Devon will put a stop to this before it goes any further.

  But he doesn’t make any move to leave the room. Rather, he remains still as the man in the other room sobs.

  “There, now,” the mistress says in a more soothing tone once the ring is secured at the base of his scrotum. “You did it. I’m so proud of you. That deserves a reward. How would you like to be rewarded?”

  “I’ll let my mistress decide.”

  She pets his face and wipes the snot from under his nose with a tissue, tending to him as if he were a baby. Dropping to her knees before him, she takes his grotesquely hard cock into her mouth and begins to suck him off. Judging by the tight expression on his face, he’s experiencing more pain than pleasure. Tears begin to slide down his cheeks once again as she sucks him to orgasm. His shouts are so loud they almost hurt my ears.

  She stands and reaches for something on a nearby table.

  He sees what’s in her hand and recoils as much as he’s able to, tied as he is to the cross. “No, Mistress. Anything but that.”

  “What is it?” I ask in a whisper. My voice has abandoned me. My heart is beating so fast I’m afraid it’ll explode, and beads of sweat roll down my back.

  “It’s a crop,” Devon says.

  “Like the ones used on horses?”

  “Similar.”

  “What’s she going to…” The words die on my lips as the crop connects with his balls. His screams are agonizing to listen to. “Oh. Oh God.” The room closes in on me.

  Accompanied by the shrieks from the man on the cross, Devon takes me by the arm. “Let’s get her some air.”

  They hustle me out of there and help me into an upholstered chair in the hallway.

  “Take some breaths,” Devon says. “Deep breaths.”

  I’m embarrassed and horrified and unbelievably aroused. More than anything, I’m confused as to how I can feel all those emotions at the same time. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Devon encourages Tenley to take the chair next to mine while he squats in front of us. “It’s a very common reaction among newbies.”

  “You… you didn’t put a stop to it.”

  “No, only he can, and he knows exactly how to stop it if and when it becomes too much for him. He and his scene partner have worked out the details in advance, including a safe word that would immediately put an end to all activity.”

  “He was screaming in pain.”

  “He gets off on the pain.”

  I shudder, recalling the man’s apparent agony.

  “Everyone is different, Addie,” Tenley says. “The lifestyle celebrates those differences.”

  “That’s right,” Devon adds. “We encourage participants to be true to themselves and to fully articulate their needs and desires so their partner can give them what they want. Communication between partners is absolutely critical.”

  “So he wants her to take a riding crop to his balls?”

  “Yes,” Devon says bluntly.

  “I don’t get that, but I guess I don’t have to.”

  Devon smiles. “No, you don’t. The important thing to know is not everything will appeal to you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I got the sense you might’ve been aroused by some of what you saw?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Then you should focus on the aspects that interest you and forget about the parts that don’t.”

  “It’s really that simple?”

  “It is. The last thing I or any good Dom wants is a sub who rolls over and plays dead. I want an active, willing submissive who participates fully before, during and after our scene. No one is looking for a doormat to abuse, at least not any Dom I know.”

  I’m incredibly comforted by Devon’s insight.

  “Do you have other questions?”

  “Could I maybe run a scenario by you to get your take on it?”

  “Of course. Let’s go up to my place and have a drink.” Devon extends a hand to help me up and then does the same for Tenley before leading us to an elevator tucked discreetly into a nook.

  “This house is incredible,” I say.

  “It’s got an amazing pedigree.” As we enter the elevator, Devon names the Hollywood glitterati who’ve called it home over the last five decades. The elevator deposits us into a penthouse that overlooks the city below.

  I gravitate immediately to the floor-to-ceiling windows that look down over his property. “Wow, this is beautiful.” A pool is lit up from within, casting a warm glow over the tiled deck and lush landscaping that surround it.

  “I like it,” Devon says with the understatement that I’ve come to expect from him after a couple of hours in his presence. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Is a gin and tonic doable?”

  “Absolutely. Coming right up. Tenley?”

  “I’ll have the same, please.”

  We settle with our drinks in a sitting area near the windows. Tenley sits right next to Devon, and he slips an arm around her. They make a gorgeous couple, and I wonder if he’s as serious about her as she seems to be about him.

  “I’m happy to answer any questions you have,” he says. “One thing you’ll quickly learn is people in the lifestyle love to talk about it.”

  “They really do,” Tenley says with a laugh. “It took me a while to get used to the dinner party conversations in Devon’s world.”

  The look that passes between them demonstrates a deep level of intimacy that makes me envious. I want that. I want it so badly, and I want it with Hayden. The thought that we could have what they have is so tantalizing and yet so out of reach at the same time.

  “I have a friend,” I begin haltingly, still hesitant to say too much out of fear of violating Hayden’s privacy. “We have an emotional connection, I guess you could say, that’s recently turned physical. Today I found out he’s part of the lifestyle, and when I asked if he would share it with me, he refused. He said I’m no one’s submissive. At the same time, he indicated how important the lifestyle is to him. So here I am, crazy about a guy who wants things he thinks I can’t give him.”

  “That’s a dilemma for sure,” Devon says. “Did he say why he thinks you couldn’t be what he needs?”

  “I’m guessing it’s because he’s never practiced with someone he loves, and he’s afraid of hurting me or scaring me off.”

  “It’s a totally different experience when you’re in love with your partner,” Devon says. “I get where he’s coming from.”

  “So how do I convince him to let me try? As soon as I told him I was going elsewhere to learn about the lifestyle, he flipped out and said he’d train me himself. I told him I don’t want
him agreeing to it only because he doesn’t want anyone else to touch me.”

  “The poor guy,” Devon says with a low chuckle. “I feel for him.”

  “You guys all stick together,” Tenley says, amusement dancing in her dark eyes.

  “It’s a tough spot for him. He’s in love for perhaps the first time in his life, and he’s struggling with how to reconcile the emotion with the lifestyle.” Devon takes hold of Tenley’s hand and brings it to his lips. “I’ve been there. I get it.”

  “Oh,” she says on a deep exhale. “You have?” Her voice squeaks uncharacteristically on the two small words.

  “We’ll talk about that later,” he says to her.

  “On that note, I should get out of your hair.”

  “Don’t go yet,” Devon says. “I’m having an idea… It’s a somewhat dastardly idea and goes against everything I believe in when it comes to the bro code, but it might solve your problem.”

  “Can’t wait to hear this,” Tenley says.

  “What if we made plans for you to receive training at my club, under the supervision of one of my staff members? You could do as much or as little as you want—everything from merely talking to actually participating in a scene. So the training would be legitimate, and it would be up to you to decide how you want to structure it.”

  “And she would tell her guy about the training?” Tenley asks.

  “Eventually, when she’s ready to. Then he would know she’s truly interested in the lifestyle because she’s gone so far as to arrange for training. Hearing that would spur me to action if it involved the woman I love. I’d be surprised if it didn’t do the same for Addie’s guy.”

  As I stew over Devon’s idea, I chew on my thumbnail, a throwback habit to my angst-ridden teenage years. “I can’t imagine letting any other guy touch me.”

  “You don’t have to actually have sex to receive training.”

  “I don’t?”

  “Nope. So what do you think? Would you like to set up some training with a member of my staff?”

  “Would I be able to meet him before I trained with him?”

  “Of course. I have a few people in mind for you. Let me make a call.”

  “So like right now?”

  “Are you doing anything?”

  I swallow hard. “Um, no. No other plans for tonight.” I think about Hayden telling me earlier he was coming over to talk. Is he waiting for me to get home? Is he worried about where I might be or what I might be doing? I feel terrible for causing him any concern, but he did push me into a corner earlier by refusing to share this part of himself with me.

  Before I’ve had time to work myself into a full-on panic over Devon’s idea, the elevator dings to admit three men, each more handsome than the next. They’re shirtless and wearing tight jeans or black pants that leave very little to the imagination. It’s a buffet of male beauty. I’m introduced to Tony, Justin and Andre. Tony has the blond, blue-eyed California surfer look down to a science, while Justin is the brawny body builder and Andre, who’s also muscular with intricate sleeve tattoos on both arms, has the most gorgeous skin I’ve ever seen on a man. When I say so, he tells me his mother is Mexican and his father is black.

  “I’m insanely jealous,” I reply, as I realize I’m flirting with him. I immediately feel guilty, though I have no good reason to. Hayden has made no commitment to me. If anything, he’s done the opposite, so I’m not doing anything wrong by enjoying a conversation with another man. But my heart belongs to Hayden, and that’s why none of this feels “right” to me.

  “I’ve asked you gentlemen to join us because my friend Addie is interested in training.”

  “Are you a sub?” Tony asks with genuine interest.

  “I never have been before, but I’m interested in trying.”

  “There’s a guy,” Devon says. “He’s a Dom, but he’s not sure Addie can submit the way he’d need her to.”

  “If you were my sub,” Justin says meaningfully, “I’d make sure you were fully satisfied.”

  “Phew,” Tenley says, fanning her face. “It’s getting warm in here.”

  Everyone laughs, which breaks the tension somewhat. The guys have a drink with us while we talk about innocuous topics such as the Dodgers and the latest Hollywood gossip before Devon politely requests that they leave us.

  Each of them bends to kiss my cheek on the way out, telling me it was nice to meet me. The elevator arrives, and they depart.

  “Where do you find these guys?” I ask Devon the second the doors close.

  “They find me. More importantly, are you interested in getting to know any of them better?”

  I think it over for only a moment because I already know which one I’d chose. “Andre.” I felt an immediate sense of kinship with him, and I feel like we could be friends at the very least.

  “Excellent. Come tomorrow night at ten, and I’ll set things up for you.” I must look poleaxed or something, because he quickly adds, “If that’s what you want.”

  Is it what I want? Am I really prepared to go through with this? Am I doing it for the right reasons? Will this do more harm than good for Hayden and me? Is there even a Hayden and me? What choice has he given me?

  “Addie?” Tenley says. “What’re you thinking?”

  “So many things. Most of all, I’m afraid I’ll mess things up with him.”

  “From what you’ve told us, there is no relationship with him unless you can overcome the obstacle the lifestyle has put between you,” Tenley says. “Right?”

  “Yes, I guess that’s true.”

  “If I were in your position,” Tenley says, “I’d feel I had nothing to lose by continuing my research.”

  “Would that include allowing another man to touch me?”

  “If it was for a good cause in the end and you both knew the restrictions going into it, I can’t see why not.”

  “You have to understand,” Devon says, “that the rules of fidelity and monogamy are looser within our lifestyle. I assume your friend has been in the lifestyle for quite some time. Would you agree?”

  “From what I can ascertain, I’d say that’s a safe assumption.”

  “Then you could safely argue that you’re playing catch-up so you can get on the same page with him.”

  I smile at that. “That’s kind of a stretch.”

  “Are you a practitioner of yoga?” he asks, surprising me with the sudden shift in conversation.

  “I have been in the past.”

  “Then you know how the skill set builds upon itself. The more you practice, the more you can do. The more you can do, the greater the benefits. This isn’t all that different. Andre can help you master the basics so you can fully realize your potential. Everything you do with him would be safe, sane and consensual. Even if he never lays a hand on your body or you never touch him, he can walk you through what to expect if and when you do venture into a Dom/sub relationship.”

  The yoga analogy resonates with me. “So you’re saying it would be akin to working with a personal trainer. It’s just that the training is sexual rather than physical.”

  “The training is sexual as well as physical and emotional. Everything comes into play.”

  “I’ll admit to being sincerely intrigued.”

  “Would you like to get your medical exam out of the way now, so you’re ready to play tomorrow?”

  He says this the same way anyone else would offer another drink.

  “Now?” It has to be close to midnight.

  “I have a doctor here around the clock.”

  “Wow. You don’t fool around.”

  “Well, he does, but not when it comes to safety,” Tenley says. “The exam is quick and painless. Nothing you haven’t had before.”

  I try to find my inner reserve of courage. Then I remember the condition of my um, areas, and I wonder if having the exam now is a good idea. But the thought of any more delays when I finally have a real chance with Hayden is more unbearable than the exam co
uld ever be. “Okay. Now would be great.”

  Twenty minutes later, I’m seated on an exam table wearing a cotton gown and nothing else while I wait for the doctor. I’ve been weighed and donated pee and blood. Now comes the “fun” part. I feel like a nervous sixteen-year-old having my first pelvic exam when I’m more than a decade removed from that mortifying incident.

  Thinking about Dad declaring it was time to get me a lady doctor makes me smile. The poor guy did the best he could with a broken heart and a teenage daughter he had no idea what to do with. Though I was twelve when she died, my memories of my mother are somewhat fuzzy. I’ve read a lot about grief and the way it screws with your mind. I think that’s what happened to me. Her death was so traumatic that I blocked all the good stuff along with the bad.

  Dad took me to a therapist after she died, and that helped somewhat, but it didn’t bring back my memories. I have pictures that fill in some of the gaps. They’re all I have of her, so they’re my most priceless possessions. I keep them in a fireproof box so they’ll be safe no matter what happens.

  Why am I thinking about my mother right now? I’m still puzzling that over when a knock on the door makes me gasp. I’d almost forgotten where I was and why. The door opens, and another of Devon’s DNA-blessed employees walks in. Naturally, the doctor on call is a man—a tall, gorgeous, blond man with a smile right out of a toothpaste commercial. My aching lady parts shrivel up in horror at the thought of exposing themselves to him.

  “Addison, is it?”

  “Yes. I go by Addie.”

  “Addie, I’m Doctor Byron.” Fitting that he should have the face and name of a poet. He makes a note on a page on his clipboard. “Mr. Black said you need the new-member physical. I have a brief questionnaire, then we’ll do the exam and get you out of here. Sound good?”

  “Um, sure.”

  He asks the usual questions about my cycle, whether I’ve ever been pregnant—I haven’t—and how many sexual partners I’ve had. Ahhh, I settle on twelve. A nice even dozen, and I note the slight lift of his brow that might indicate judgment. I’m immediately on edge.

  “Last time you were sexually active?”

  “Yesterday.”

  He makes another note. We go on to cover family history and other routine questions before he clicks his pen and stands to wash his hands. “You can lie back and scoot your butt toward the edge of the table. I’m sure you know the drill.”