by BJ Wane
Opening her eyes, she forced away both his image and the unfair thought it pulled from her subconscious as hard hands pushed up her dress and cupped her buttocks. Devin squeezed her butt as he leaned around and whispered in her ear, “Just as soft and malleable as I remember.”
“The same here,” Greg said, exploring the flesh of her plump folds with his calloused fingertips as he brushed his lips over hers.
A welcome rush of heated dampness filled her pussy and Nan moaned from the surprising return of the pleasure she’d been seeking. As they continued to fondle her, dipping their fingers between her cheeks and slit, she found herself wishing for the added stimulus of hot, throbbing pain, biting her lip when the bad memories of excruciating agony wanted to return.
“Please,” she whispered, forcing herself to keep her eyes open as she rocked her hips forward and back, desperate now for them to move faster before the past could come back to ruin everything.
“In a hurry?” Devin smacked her ass, the sting a startling pleasure. “I suppose, if it’s been that long, we can accommodate you, can’t we, Master Greg?”
“I can make a concession this one time.” He thrust up inside her, skimming her clit and bringing her to her toes.
Nan basked in the goosebumps popping up as tingles of pleasure tickled her spasming pussy. Shifting her eyes away from Master Greg’s continued, intent observation of her every expression, she took in the scenes going on near them, enjoying the voyeurism as much as the arousal she’d achieved after the long dry spell. With her concentration centered on the teasing strokes between her buttocks skimming the sensitive rim of her anus and the deeper, faster thrusts teasing the swelling tissues of her vagina and her eyes focused on others, she jolted, unprepared for the slash of sudden pain as a flogger struck her ass for the first time in over a year.
She cried out, struggling with a chaotic mix of emotions as another swat sent blistering streaks of heated pain across her buttocks. Desperate to keep the encroaching fear from reaching the forefront, she tried recalling the times when she’d embraced the prickling hurt, relished every strike of the leather strands and the ecstasy she’d reaped from them. Writhing in her bonds, she fought against the past and everything Master Gerard subjected her to in such a short time, but the darkness encroached anyway, and with it a cold shiver of fearful memories.
“You dare to tell me no with a fucking safeword?” Gerard yanked her off the spanking bench and dragged her toward the basement stairs.
Nan’s irritation changed to instant terror as he ignored her demands to let her go and hauled her down to a damp, dark cellar. Shoving her to the concrete floor, she winced as her hip exploded in pain. But that was nothing compared to the fiery lash streaking across her back as he struck her with a single-tailed whip she never saw him pick up. The shock and pain rendered her speechless long enough for him to strike her again.
“You’ll learn your place soon enough. No cunt refuses me.”
“You fucking bastard!” she screamed as her skin split with the third lash. She tried to stand, but he kicked her back down, robbing her of breath as her rib cracked with the impact of his booted foot. With panic clawing its way into her throat, she crawled naked across the floor, seeking relief from the excruciating agony exploding across her back. The metallic smell of her own blood followed her, as did he, until she reached a corner and curled into a ball of petrified physical and mental torment.
Nan’s harsh breathing turned to whimpering sobs and she slammed her eyes shut against the mortification of failure, never seeing the third man rushing to her side or feeling his soothing hands reaching for her. But it was Master Dan’s insistent, deep voice that penetrated the haze of terror gripping her, his tall, hard body she fell against as her hands were freed. Shaking, her body broken out in a cold sweat, she ignored the worried questions firing from Greg and Devin and clung to the steady beat of Master Dan’s heart under her ear, his voice whispering in her ear.
Dan tried to control his raging emotions as he held onto Nan’s quivering body. The displeasure he’d felt upon coming up to the loft and spotting her with his two friends had surprised him. Both Greg and Devin held reputations as excellent Doms, and he would trust any sub with them, so his quick reaction to seeing their hands all over her was odd and would need further examining later. As he took up his responsibility as monitor and settled against the back wall to keep an eye on things, he couldn’t help sliding his gaze back over to the threesome every few minutes, and what he kept seeing sent up a red flag of warning and unease.
He knew from personal experience how much his favorite sub enjoyed sexual submission, and how a long session over his lap or with his flogger would send her into orgasmic orbit. So, why was she tensing when Devin spanked her ass, and why did her jaw tighten and her face turn sheet-white when he switched to the flogger? Other than the gyrations of her body signaling her acceptance and growing arousal from their attentions, he saw none of her familiar signs of an impending orgasm. Even those telltale body movements ceased after just a few short moments, fear and gut-wrenching cries taking their place.
“Breathe, hon. I’ve got you,” he murmured in her ear, the seed of suspicion her odd behavior since returning had planted blossomed into a full bloom of certainty as he held her. Something happened that had stolen her confidence and pleasure in the lifestyle she loved, the possibilities of what stirring his anger into a feverish pitch.
“Fuck, Dan, what the hell is going on?” Devin ground out, his look as confused, concerned and pissed off as Greg’s. “She never spoke her safeword, or even red. We didn’t catch on until you did.”
“I don’t know but intend to find out.” Nan stiffened, and he guessed she was coherent enough to catch what they were saying.
Before he could ease her back, she pushed against him and demanded in a low voice, “Let me go.”
He dropped his arms, not wanting to traumatize her further. As she stepped back and averted her ravaged face, his chest tightened and his abdomen cramped from the surge of frustration and fury over what might have befallen her in New Orleans.
“Nan…”
She held up a hand that still shook and turned to face Devin and Greg. “I apologize, Sirs. I don’t know what came over me. I’m tired, but that’s no excuse. Maybe I’m just not ready to jump back into things after so long away.”
Since she refused direct eye contact with them and kept her back to Dan, she didn’t see the disbelief on all three of their faces. Dan clenched his hands into fists to keep from spinning her around and demanding the truth. Going all caveman on her sure as hell wasn’t the way to handle this woman, or the situation he never dreamed she would end up in.
As Greg handed her her discarded panties, Dan said, “In that case, I’ll walk you out.” She whipped around, gripping the silky thong, her gold eyes sparking with irritation. At least the glazed look of terror had cleared. Before she could turn him down, he insisted, not hesitating to exert his control over this matter. “Yes, I will, and you’ll either comply or I’ll file a complaint and request the suspension of your club privileges.” He was counting on the desire he’d seen in her actions and on her face for getting back what she’d apparently lost while away to gain her compliance.
“Fine,” she bit out, not bothering to hide her displeasure with his threat. Stepping into the thong, she yanked it up with no sign of embarrassment before heading toward the stairs.
“You find out anything, we’d appreciate you filling us in,” Greg said as Dan started after Nan.
Lifting his hand in acknowledgement, he nodded, saying, “Will do,” and went after his girl. He caught up with her at the top of the stairs and snatched her hand. “Damn it, Nan. I’m just trying to help.” Stepping in front of her, he trotted down the stairs, tugging her behind him.
“I don’t need your help, or anyone else’s,” she hissed.
“You couldn’t prove that ten minutes ago,” Dan shot back, ignoring the curious looks aimed their way as
he strode toward the foyer, keeping a tight grip on her hand, her damp palm and quivering fingers proof she remained shaken. He was forced to release her so she could get her shoes and cover, but instead of arguing further, she remained mulishly silent.
He followed her out to her car but as she reached for the handle, he spun her to face him with a gentle grip on her shoulders. “Damn it, Nan, what the fuck happened to you?” he snapped with concerned exasperation.
Her face tightened with mortified frustration before she returned in an angry whisper, “What happened was I trusted the wrong person, was dumb enough to believe the wrong Dom. It was my mistake, and I’m working through it, and that’s all you need to know. Now, back off.”
Dan dropped his hands and stepped back far enough to reach around her and open the door. She slid behind the wheel and reached for the handle, but he kept her from closing it as he leaned down and said, “You’re wrong. That’s not all I need to know and you’re not working through it, but around it. We’ll talk more about this later, when we’ve both cooled down. Try to get some rest.”
Nan gripped the steering wheel and clenched her teeth as she drove back to her apartment with unfulfilled arousal warring with a past that kept playing head games with her. By the time she entered her well-lit apartment, she didn’t know who she was more upset and angry with—Gerard for not being the strict but caring Dom she’d been seeking, herself for her failure to get over and move on from what he’d put her through, or Dan, who insisted she let him past her guard. Tossing her purse onto the dainty table just inside the door, she stomped her foot and shook her head in a fit of exasperation. Damn it, she knew it wasn’t fair to blame Dan for being not only a good Dom, but a caring friend.
She kicked off her sandals and padded toward her bedroom, stripping the slip of a dress off over her head as she recalled the clutch around her heart when his rough voice penetrated her fear and she knew he would catch her as her hands were released. Of all the men she’d submitted to, he was the only one she’d ever given her complete trust and submission to. But considering her lapse tonight, could she even count on old feelings, confidences and friends to get her over this hurdle when the arousing attentions of two men had failed?
Falling into bed, she hugged her largest stuffed panda to her, a gift from Jay, despairing of ever freeing herself of Gerard’s brutality.
The next day was busier than usual for a Saturday due to the arts and crafts fair taking place in the town square that went along with the book fair at the library she had made plans to attend with Avery tomorrow. Nan enjoyed her regulars as much as the visitors coming into Willow Springs to shop at the booths of handcrafted goods, but despite being run ragged with orders and sales, her mind remained preoccupied with the decision on whether to return to The Barn tonight. Her friends expected her, and likely Master Dan did too. But every time she tried to imagine herself in another scene, being bound to one of her favorite apparatus, she broke out in a cold sweat. It wasn’t the return of the painful bad memories that caused the nauseous churning in her stomach, but the fear of failing again, of letting down those friends and another Dom.
Ignoring a text invite from Tamara to join her, Sydney, Avery and their spouses at the diner before going to the club, she waved goodbye to the last customer to leave and started to lock the shop’s front door when Willa from the library popped in. Holding a foil-wrapped plate, the elderly woman handed it to her with a smile.
“I’m glad I caught you. Alice and I saved these aside for you this morning when she arrived at my place early to help me bake for the bake sale. I hope brownies are still your favorite.”
“You bet.” Touched, Nan came around the counter, took the plate and gave Willa a hug in appreciation for her thoughtfulness. “Thank you so much, and tell Alice thank you. I’ll be over tomorrow as soon as I close at four and return your plate.”
“Wonderful. We have a good selection of new titles you’ll like. See you then.”
Nan locked the door behind her and closed the blinds before turning to clean up, which gave her another hour to wrestle with her indecision about going out tonight. By the time she shut off the lights and trudged upstairs, she was dragging her feet with both mental and physical exhaustion, carrying the plate of brownies.
“Fuck it,” she muttered, entering her apartment and closing the door behind her to lean against it with a weary sigh. “And fuck you, Master Gerard.” The man she’d met at a casual, friendly BDSM mixer could have won an Oscar for his acting skills. The persona of a strict but considerate Dom he portrayed to ingratiate himself into the local club had disappeared as soon as she refused to be his sexual and subservient slave. After their initial meeting at the mixer, her brother Jay left for Houston to assist with a case linked to one of his. During his week-long absence, she’d given in to her boredom and the needs begging to be met since hearing Master Gerard’s deep voice and seeing the lustful interest reflected in his pitch-black eyes.
Following a few dates in public places, Nan had played it smart and careful when she’d accepted Gerard’s third invitation to dine at his mansion by texting Jay of her plans and location. She hadn’t been smart or careful when she let her guard down and fell for the considerate ‘we’ll take it slow so I can learn what you need from submission’ line he fed her to get her to stay at his place until Jay returned instead of heeding the shivers his cold, calculated stares gave her. He’d backed up that line by putting her in the guest bedroom of his two-story, historical home the first night and not making any moves. The second day there, he’d given her a glimpse of his dungeon in the basement, and she’d been torn between fascinated curiosity and the first prickles of alarm gazing at the medieval implements and furniture of torture he’d amassed had produced.
On the third night, he bound her to the bed, his black eyes lacking any warmth or approval as he brought her body to the brink of climax over and over with sharp snaps of a flogger only to stop before she could go over. By the time she curled under the covers, her body throbbing with heated pain front and back and he’d walked out with orders not to touch herself, she was considering leaving first thing in the morning. Too bad she let herself fall for a return of his outwardly charming demeanor as he served her breakfast on the small veranda by the pool. When he ordered her to strip outdoors an hour later, she’d been both eager to please and to get relief from a long night of unfulfilled arousal. That lasted until she knelt upon his instructions and then refused to agree to be his slave when he laid out what he wanted from her.
Shuddering at the memory of what had come next, Nan pushed away from the door, set the brownies on the end table next to the sofa and went to her small stash of liquor under the television. Getting hauled upstairs and locked in the guest bedroom naked and left with no food and only the bathroom sink for water for four days had been the easiest part of the following week as Master Gerard’s captive. Knowing she wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight, she gripped the full bottle of bourbon and threw herself onto the sofa, pulling a pillow stitched with an adorable panda face to her chest.
Bringing the bottle to her mouth, she took a long drink as she uncovered the brownies and grabbed one to ease the burn with its chocolate, sugary sweetness. “Perfect,” she sighed, licking her fingers before picking up the remote and flicking through the Saturday night fare. Shit, how long had it been since she spent a Saturday night alone in front of the television? Swigging another drink, she tried to think of anything except what she was missing out on by her continued cowardice.
Nan was down to just a fourth of the bourbon left, having finished the four brownies when she nodded off into an inebriated slumber. Seconds, minutes or hours later – she didn’t know which – abrupt pounding on her door jarred her onto the floor next to where she’d kicked off her jeans. The room spun and nausea churned in her stomach as she stumbled to her feet, her fuzzy brain trying to make sense of someone showing up this late unannounced. The uncomfortable taste of bile inched up to her throat as she
lurched toward the door. Peeking through the peep hole with one blurry eye, she gritted her teeth and swore under her breath when she made out Dan’s tall form, glimpsing the curl of his blond hair around his nape from under his Stetson.
She didn’t think twice about flinging open the door wearing nothing but a tee decorated with a large steaming teacup that skimmed the top of her thighs and barely covered her panties. Hell, she thought, the man had seen, touched and tasted every inch of her naked body countless times. Why that caused her pussy to spasm in warm response as annoyance clouded her already fuzzy head, she didn’t know and didn’t care.
Glaring up into his tanned, rugged face, she struggled to keep upright by leaning against the door jamb as she grumbled, “Don’t know why y’re here, don’t frickin’ care. Go ‘way.” Slamming the door, she spun around and ran into the back of the couch just as he walked inside, ignoring her dismissal.
“Damn it!” She whirled, and he caught her as her head went on a fast roller coaster ride around the room. “Whoa.” She leaned against his wide chest and sighed, mumbling, “Go ‘way.” again.
Chapter 6
Dan held onto Nan, trying to ignore the urge to strip off her top and fill his hands with the lush breasts pressed against his chest. He ached to touch her again almost as much as he needed to find out what she’d been through while away. He’d spent the last few hours at the club, frustrated with her absence but determined to give her more time before confronting her about the truth. That decision had only lasted until he failed to drum up any enthusiasm or interest in choosing a sub to play with, not even to take his mind off the one who had occupied his thoughts the most since first witnessing her eager enthusiasm to please a Dom while embracing her need for painful stimulation. It hurt the way she’d shut him out, as much as it agonized him to see her looking so defiantly despondent as she ordered him to leave.