Cutting Cords (Cutting Cords Series Book 1)

by Mickie B. Ashling

  “Yeah. I’d like to learn more.”

  “Would you be interested in going to the club with me tonight? I was just getting ready.”

  “The club?”

  “A BDSM club. It will be far more enlightening than any verbal or written tutorial.”

  “I’m in blue jeans and a T-shirt, not really club material, but I don’t want to go back home and change.”

  “There’s no applicable dress code when I’m your date. Meet me in front of your apartment building in about twenty minutes. I’ll be in a limo.”

  Whoa. “Sounds good.”

  In a fucking limo again. Everything about Max was first class, so I supposed this club he was taking me to would be over the top. I walked to the nearest Starbucks for a quick espresso while passing the time and getting my head on straight. I had to put all thoughts of Cole away and concentrate on Max. He was a much more viable option, although I had no idea what I was getting myself into. In truth, this was a part of the attraction. The excitement of the unknown had always drawn me, and Max was a big question mark right now. His world was so far removed from mine; it tempted me like no other.

  The honk of a horn snapped me out of my reverie. The limo was at the curb, and Max’s head popped through the window as soon as the glass slid down. “Need a ride, mister?”

  I beamed, and when the driver came around and opened the door, I jumped right in. The interior was an ostentatious display of wealth: leather seats, custom-made bar with genuine wood trim, and the silver bucket filled with ice and a champagne bottle. Max reached for it and poured the bubbly into crystal flutes. The sound coming through the speakers lent itself to the dreamlike quality of this date—if you could call it that. It felt like I was being whisked away on a magic carpet ride.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To a private club called Wilde.”

  “Is it? Wild?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” he said huskily.

  He pulled me closer and kissed me. I shut my eyes and tasted champagne on his tongue, allowing myself to luxuriate in his undivided attention. I was determined to forget Cole, to move on and rid myself of the inexplicable hold my roommate had on me. I was not going to be a part of his life, no matter how much I cared, so I had to do what was best for me. I encircled Max’s neck and returned the kiss with equal fervor. He groped for my crotch and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “I thought I imagined this,” Max whispered, his voice thick with desire.

  “Nope.”

  He tugged at my zipper. I freaked, glancing over at the driver. Public sex wasn’t really my jam, but Max put his finger on my lips before I could protest. I felt like such a dumbass when he hit the button on the console and a privacy glass went up between us and the front seat.

  “May I?” he asked, as if I’d be stupid enough to refuse one of his world-class blowjobs.

  “Please.”

  “Darling,” he said softly, “you have no idea what it means to hear you beg.”

  I had no problems begging if I got off. By the time the car stopped in front of a four-story brick building, I barely remembered my name, let alone my roommates. Max had surpassed his previous efforts, and I observed him rinse out his mouth with the remnants of the champagne in his glass.

  “A lovely appetizer, darling. Thank you,” he said, purring like a fictional cat and licking the last of my cream dotting his lower lip.

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. Now, come—let me introduce you to Wilde.”

  We held hands as we walked up the five stone steps. The ornately carved door opened instantly, and we stepped across the threshold into a plush Victorian world, complete with red velvet curtains, brocaded furnishings, and intricately carved woodwork. There was a bronze bust of Oscar Wilde, which explained the club’s name. I’d read about him but wasn’t familiar with the nuances of his life. Max would have to clue me in later.

  “Good evening, Mr. Leavitte.”

  “George,” Max said with a nod. “Who’s here tonight?”

  “Everyone, sir. There’s a collaring about to start in room six.”

  “Oh? Whose?”

  “Mr. Beck and his boy, Eric.”

  “Perfect. Sloan, you’ll get a chance to see something special after all.”

  “Will you be having dinner, sir?”

  “No, but we’ll have champagne. Bring us a bottle of Bollinger, will you? Les Vieilles Francaises if you have it in stock. I assume my usual table is free?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  George went one way, Max and I another. He still held me by the hand and didn’t let go, even when people stopped to greet him. Most of the clubbers seemed to know him, which was sort of cool. I’d never been one of the popular kids at school, and usually hung out by myself or with the other pariahs. It was a nice change to be with someone who was a legit superstar and wasn’t ashamed to be seen in my company.

  We walked into a large room with a raised platform in the middle. There was a huge wooden cross in the shape of a letter X, and beside it was a small table with what appeared to be bottles of water and pieces of black leather. It was too far away for me to make out the details. There were tables and chairs scattered around the platform, which were all occupied by men in different attire. Some were in suits while others were dressed casually. A few were in severe leather that creaked when they moved. Most of the gentlemen were Max’s age or older, and every one of them had a much younger man by their side, either standing by their chairs or kneeling on the floor. The younger men were naked or minimally covered in pieces of cloth or leather to hide their dangly bits.

  “Who are these people?” I whispered in Max’s ear, before we were seated at our table.

  “You are seeing some of the finest Dominants in the area, along with their contracted submissives.”

  “Why are they kneeling and not sitting at the table with their partners?”

  “It’s a traditional act of submission that is expected and most appreciated by their masters.”

  “Seems rather degrading to me.”

  “Appearances are often deceiving to the uninitiated.”

  “I’m having trouble wrapping my head around this practice. I hope you don’t expect me to kneel in public?”

  Before Max could answer, we were interrupted by a waiter, who brought us our champagne. He poured the bubbly into fine crystal flutes and swiftly departed. Max and I clinked glasses gently and he toasted, “To your new and exciting career.”

  “Which career are you referring to, Max?”

  His smile was deliciously wicked and sent a thrill up my spine. “That is for you to decide, my beautiful boy.”

  Chapter 25

  A hush fell over the room when two men took center stage. The older guy wore black leather pants, jackboots, and a soft white shirt that looked expensive. Everything about him exuded class. He was holding a leash, which was attached to the silver collar on a striking young man who followed with his head bowed. He was naked but for a silver cock ring encircling his semi-erect penis.

  I watched in rapt fascination, more interested in the sub’s reaction than in the Dom’s strutting.

  “Welcome to our small celebration tonight,” the Dom began. “This is the final step in Eric’s journey. He has grown over the last few months.” The audience shared a laugh as the sub’s erection seemed to increase. The speaker glanced at his young man and smiled in appreciation. “I have to admit my Eric is quite the shower. Tonight we celebrate my pet’s collaring. He’s earned it and it gives me great pleasure to present him to you, but first, a lovely demonstration of his willingness to please me.”

  Eric stepped forward and his Dom removed the leash and collar. He replaced them with leather cuffs, on his wrists as well as on his ankles, before leading him to the cross. Eric’s back was turned toward us, and his arms and legs were secured to silver O-rings on the four ends of the cross. He had an incredible physique, which was very much appreciated by his Dom, who c
aressed him with a light hand, all the while whispering in his ear.

  The Dom stepped away and reached for a leather riding crop. He struck Eric on the buttocks forcefully. The young man moaned and shifted while the chains holding him in position rattled gently. When the crop came down again in three successive strikes, Eric’s ass sported four red stripes across the rounded cheeks and his master stopped to caress each one gently. He whispered something and Eric nodded. The flogging resumed with rapid-fire strokes all over the sub’s back. Finally, his head flopped to the side and his eyes closed. I thought he’d passed out from the grueling punishment, but he seemed to be in ecstasy, rather than in horrible pain.

  “Is he unconscious?” I asked Max in alarm.

  “He’s in subspace,” Max explained. “The pain has shifted to exquisite pleasure. Look at his face. Does he seem to be suffering? And look at his cock.”

  I returned my focus on the sub, who did appear to be in some sort of trance while his cock remained rigid. His master moved to release the cock ring after whispering a command, and Eric began to climax immediately. The room filled with the odor of his spunk, and there was a general groaning from the audience. Suddenly, everyone was all hands and mouths, and what had been a silent observation turned into an orgy of sorts. Subs were giving blowjobs left and right.

  I turned to Max, and he raised an eyebrow. “Are you shocked, darling?”

  “No… I’m hard as fuck.”

  He leaned in and gave me a deep kiss, fucking me with his tongue. “Hold that thought, my beauty. I have plans for later.”

  “Okay,” I replied, a little breathless but determined to wait it out. My curiosity had no bounds.

  After the Dom had given Eric a few minutes to regain his composure, he released his bindings, massaged the reddened skin to return his blood flow, and moved him to center stage. He picked up the flat velvet-covered box sitting on the table and pulled out a flexible silver chain that glinted when the light hit it. He placed the necklace around Eric’s neck and kissed him gently. He then drew him into his arms and pressed him tightly against his body. Everyone started to applaud and the ceremony was over.

  “So now what happens to Eric?” I asked, while Max poured me more champagne.

  “They move into another phase of their relationship. He’s now a contracted sub and belongs to Beck. No one can touch him; but by the same token, Beck is obligated to see to his safety and daily needs. Eric is his.”

  “So it’s a marriage of sorts?”

  “You could call it that, although it’s renewable, which makes it much better.”

  “Right.”

  “Come, my beauty. I’ve asked for a room.”

  “They have private rooms here?”

  “Absolutely. Not everyone likes to perform on stage. There are some members who need strict privacy. I, personally, do not like the public forum.”

  “Neither do I. There’s no fucking way I’d strip down to nothing in front of these people.”

  “Sloan, your cock would make them forget what you are so ashamed of.”

  “Whatever, Max.”

  We left the room in a hurry, no longer stopping to chat. Max went straight to the stairs, and we took them two at a time to the second floor. It looked like any hotel, except the paintings on the wall were male erotica. Some of them had to be antiques, each one more explicit than the next, and I would have enjoyed a more leisurely exploration of the artistry, but Max tugged on my hand every time I’d stop.

  When we finally got to our room and he’d closed the door behind us, he picked me up and carried me to the four-poster bed taking up most of the space. Like the one in Max’s bedroom, there were hooks anchored into the wooden posts. This one was canopied and curtained as well, giving it an old-world feel.

  Max was covering my face with kisses and growling softly.

  “I want you very much.”

  “I’m all yours, Max.”

  “Will you let me tie you down?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you. Tonight, I’d like to experiment a little. Test your boundaries.”

  “How?” Although I’d said yes, I was clearly out of my depth. My body tingled after the scene I’d observed downstairs, and I was desperate to get off, but Max seemed to have other plans.

  “Let me show you rather than tell you. Would you strip down, please?”

  The lights were on, although very muted. Still, I hesitated.

  “Darling, I’ve seen most of you. At least the important parts,” he added. “Trust me. I won’t judge.”

  I closed my eyes and started to undress, peeling off the layers one by one until I lay there completely exposed. I kept my eyes shut, hoping not to see the look of desire change to revulsion when he spied my jutting bones and scars, but then I felt him caressing me, languidly moving over my chest and stomach but bypassing my cock, which oozed precum. He ignored it and made me cry out in protest.

  “Hush, my impatient beauty. Let me take my time with you.”

  “God… I’m dying here.”

  “First, I’m going to grab some things from the bureau. Give me a second,” he whispered, kissing me hungrily. “Open your eyes, Sloan.”

  I blinked a few times, expecting to see derision or contempt, but I only saw desire.

  “You still want me even though I’m skin and bones?”

  “Sloan, my darling boy. You’re beautiful.”

  “Really?” I didn’t believe a word, but at least he wasn’t repulsed and still wanted me, despite my lackluster frame.

  “Why the hell are you so insecure about your physique?”

  “Years of programming.”

  “I’m going to have to work on you, get you to believe me when I say you’re beautiful.”

  My eyes filled up, touched by his kindness. It was coming from such an unexpected source, and I was caught off guard. He wiped my tears away with gentle kisses, whispering words of encouragement that were meant to calm and soothe. When he felt I could continue, he moved toward the mirrored cabinet, and removed some leather cuffs and something resembling a ping-pong paddle. It was covered in dark leather. I’d seen a picture of such a paddle in one of the books he’d leant me.

  “Let’s start with a few spankings,” he said, “I think you could use this right now.”

  “I could?” Somehow I found it hard to believe, but so far, he’d been right on every count. “Shall I flip over?”

  “Yes.”

  I did and he took a pillow and slid it under my groin, raising my hips slightly. He rubbed my ass with his bearded cheek. It felt wonderful and I sighed softly, which seemed to encourage him to put his warm tongue right where I wanted it. I closed my eyes and moaned, spreading wide and offering myself in the most wanton way. I wanted more, craved the momentary sting as he pushed inside of me, but he was teasing the outside of my hole, lapping at it with his talented tongue.

  Writhing with impatience, I begged, “Max, please.”

  “Not yet, darling, first a little pain.”

  He sat back on his heels, lifted his hand, and brought the paddle down on the meatiest part of my butt with a loud splat!

  “Oh my God.”

  He followed it with a series of successive blows, each one more forceful, and soon I was humping the pillow with abandon. I might have shot my load if he hadn’t stopped to rub my ass, whispering words of encouragement, and telling me I was gorgeous. I wanted to prove my worth and held back the orgasm.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Good,” I whimpered, “but I’d really like to come in the next few minutes.”

  “Not in too much pain?”

  “No.”

  “Every time we’re in a scene, I’m going to help you forget all the horrible things you’ve ever thought of yourself. Let me be your reality.”

  “Yes,” I acknowledged, “anything, Max. Please help me.”

  He lifted the paddle again, throwing in a few more swats for good measure, and I was about to lose it and make
a mess. He must have sensed it somehow because he flipped me over like a pancake and sucked me down his throat. I came instantly, shooting streams of cum. His throat muscles undulated around my cock as he expertly swallowed each drop.

  I wanted this feeling to last for all eternity. The slight sting on my ass cheeks enhanced everything, making the pleasure ten times better. Finally, when he’d extracted every ounce of fluid from my body, he pulled away and turned me over again. He positioned the pillow under my hips once more and grabbed some lube from the nightstand. After smearing his fingers with a healthy dollop, he plunged them into my asshole, making me yelp. I hoped the room was soundproofed.

  He rolled a condom on quickly and slid inside, hitting my prostate on one try. Blitzed out with pleasure, I was incoherent, my breath leaving my lungs in quick pants as he thrust in and out. He squeezed my hips with strong hands and did all the work, pulling me back and forth, while I reeled with multiple sensations. His harsh breathing reverberated in the close quarters, and I could hear my own breaths panting in rhythm as he jabbed me again and again. My cock filled eventually, and I reached to grab myself, only to have my hand pushed away impatiently. Max’s fingers wrapped around me, squeezing and tugging in sync with the movement of his hips, and we exploded within seconds of each other.

  Max dropped on my back, breathing hard. I thought he might have fallen asleep, but he was awake, reaching for my hands, enfolding his fingers with mine. He rolled us over and now I was lying on top. He wrapped his arms and legs around me and told me to take a nap.

  “I can’t, Max. I’ve got to go home.”

  “Why?”

  “Two classes tomorrow.”

  “After my clients see your pictures, you won’t need to go to school anymore.”

  “You’re wrong. I’d never model full-time.”

  Max snorted in disbelief. “You’d turn down a million-dollar contract?”

  “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” I pushed away and sat up cross-legged. It had been the most awesome date, but I was tired and wanted to go home. Max’s world was so far removed from mine I couldn’t fathom ever being a part of it. Right then, it felt like a fairy tale come true, but I was certain tomorrow would only offer the same old shit, with the usual dose of anxiety and disappointment.