Twisted Fates (Pleasure House Book 5)

by Kitty Thomas

Shannon writhed and moaned and panted. “Please Sir, please fuck my ass.”

  He laughed. “No, not today. And not this weekend. I will decide when you're ready. Now come for me.”

  Shannon rocked against the toys moving inside her and allowed them to take her over the edge of her pleasure. She screamed out her orgasm, and then Damian turned the toys off and pulled them out of her.

  She collapsed onto her stomach on the bed, spent. But he wasn't quite finished yet. Damian lubed a gently flared plug and seated it inside her ass. She gripped the sheets and moaned as it slipped inside. Then he pulled her against his body, her back to his front and stroked her pussy until she came yet again, her ass clamping down on the plug.

  “Good girl,” he soothed. “Now rest. You need to get used to this sensation.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was Monday morning and Lindsay had just finished up with his first patient. He had an entire hour before his next appointment because of a scheduling conflict. He glanced at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds tick by. They were late. They were supposed to be here at nine o'clock.

  He was about to pick up his phone to call Damian when he heard them laughing as they got off the elevator. He got up and went to stand in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He caught Damian grabbing her ass in the outer office while she giggled.

  “You're late,” he said.

  Shannon immediately turned serious, and he hated that. He hated that she was nothing but giggles and smiles with Damian and the second she saw him again she'd gone serious. Oh they had their own sort of banter, but it wasn't the same light playfulness. Their history was too heavy for that.

  “I-I'm sorry, Master.”

  She thought she was in trouble.

  “You're not in trouble. It's not your fault you're late. Damian knew what time to have you here.” He turned to the other man. “Damian? In my office please?”

  Damian pressed a kiss to her throat and brushed past Lindsay into the inner office. Lindsay turned back to Shannon and pointed at a black bag beside the desk.

  “Your clothes are in the bag. Go into the guest bathroom and change. Then there is a stack of folders waiting on your desk to be filed. And reschedule with Lucy. She can't make it today.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, slipping into her office role, all playfulness evaporated.

  Great. He was the asshole in this scenario.

  He closed the door of his office and went to sit behind the desk. “Well? How did it go?”

  Damian had found the hidden brandy stash and helped himself to a drink. Lindsay decided against ranting about how it wasn't even lunchtime yet. He already felt like the interloper, the old guy coming in between two young people in love.

  Damian took his time sipping the brandy and sat in the chair opposite from Lindsay. “It started rocky but we moved past it quickly.”

  “Rocky, how?” Lindsay asked.

  “She was scared of me.”

  “What did you do to make her scared?” he said, working to keep from raising his voice. Shannon was on the other side of a very thin wall after all. No reason to unsettle her more.

  “Nothing. She just was scared because you weren't there. You really need to explain this situation to her, about the both of us. If you still want to do it,” Damian said.

  “Why wouldn't I want to do it?” Lindsay asked, irritated.

  “You look jealous.”

  Lindsay laughed. “Please. Jealous of you? You may be young and fun but nobody knows her like I know her. No one knows how to train a woman's body like I know how to train it. You're an amateur next to me. And let me disabuse you of your silly notions about all this right now. She doesn't want some fun normal guy who blurs the lines with her. She wants to be owned.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Damian challenged, putting his feet up on Lindsay's polished oak desk, like he was moving right in and taking over.

  “She needs it. She craves it. She will never feel safe or complete if she doesn't have it. I've been a therapist for a long time. I've seen a lot of kinky people in this office. Some things are just ingrained. No matter how healthy or happy the person, some things they just need. So if you fuck this up... if you go too soft with her...”

  “I won't go too soft with her,” he ground out, almost offended. “But I have to build her trust. Lindsay, you didn't see her. The way she panicked and begged me not to hurt her.”

  A hard knot formed in Lindsay's stomach at that. Maybe it had been too soon to leave her with Damian, but after how compliant she'd been at the gallery and the party at his house, it had seemed appropriate to leave them alone... allow space for them to form their own relationship. After all, he'd already had a lot of time alone with her and would continue to have it. She'd need to be able to rely on Damian some day, to transfer all those things she aimed at Lindsay onto someone else.

  “Are you sure you're up for this?” Lindsay asked. “This isn't some kink game. If you undermine her reality...”

  “I'm not undermining it. I'm making her call me Sir like we agreed until she knows what's happening here.”

  Maybe Lindsay should have waited for a different night. Maybe they should have been together, just the three of them in Damian's dungeon, helping her to understand her position between them. Then Damian could have had some time with her, just the two of them. With the rest of the party going on, there hadn't been the opportunity to begin establishing the dynamic they were working toward. And with her still in the dark it just made it that much more complicated.

  “I'm going to tell her,” Lindsay said. “I just need time to figure out how.”

  “You know she'll go for it,” Damian said.

  Lindsay rubbed his temples. Of course she'd go for it. She'd been starved of love and sex and attention for so long that now getting it from two men at once would be like winning the fucking lottery. So if he was so sure she'd easily go for it, why didn't he want to tell her?

  Because then it would be real. Until he laid the terms out for her... until everyone was in agreement it was still just a noble idea for how to protect her long term, a backup plan. It was just him sharing her with someone else on occasion instead of someone else owning a piece of her.

  Lindsay enjoyed sharing. He did. He got off on watching another man take her, while she knew he could offer her to as many men as he deemed appropriate. He liked turning her into his obedient little whore, hungry for every cock he allowed to fill her.

  But sharing ownership was different. Sharing her body was one thing, sharing her soul was another. Even though he knew this was what she needed because she would never survive another master dumping her off like an unwanted stray. He needed to have things already set up for a smooth handover.

  “Some day far in the future when it's only the two of you, would you share her with someone else or keep her to yourself?” Lindsay asked.

  Damian shrugged. “I don't know. But that's a long way off, isn't it?”

  “Yeah.” Well over a decade probably. Maybe two. Maybe more. “We need to spend time with her together soon.”

  Damian nodded. “I think that's a good idea.”

  “When it's the three of us, I call the shots,” Lindsay reminded him.

  “I know. We've established the pecking order. I'm fine with it.”

  “You're not a sub, though,” Lindsay said, doubting Damian could follow direction.

  “No, but I can let you take the lead. It'll be less confusing for her. We don't want her to be confused about loyalties or feel like she's betraying one of us if she wants both of us.”

  Lindsay sighed. “But she had fun this weekend?”

  “Oh, I can guarantee that,” Damian said, with a grin.

  “Good.”

  Damian got up and headed for the door. “I expect to see her this weekend. And you too. We can explain the arrangement then, yeah?”

  Lindsay nodded. “I think that would be a good idea. And Damian?” he said, stopping the man.
/>   “Yes?”

  “Set up some hidden cameras. I want video from now on of everything you do with her.”

  Damian's brow rose. “Don't trust me now?”

  “I just like to watch. I regret that I wasn't with her in some way this weekend when she was scared. I should at least see it all. I am her primary right now after all.”

  “Oh,” Damian said, before opening the door. “One more thing. Don't fuck her in the ass.”

  Lindsay raised a brow. “Why not?”

  “Because that belongs to me. You get her all week. You get so much with her that I don't get. I want that one thing with her that's special just between us.”

  It was fair. Lindsay didn't have a big drive for anal. Still, he didn't love someone telling him what parts of his own property he was allowed to touch. Then again, sharing something was all about compromise.

  “I'm not going to let you hurt her,” Lindsay said, “So if she doesn't want you to touch her there...”

  “I've already touched her there. I'm already working on her there,” Damian said, a smirk growing on his face.

  Lindsay rose from his chair and took several menacing steps toward the other man. “Damian... if you hurt her...”

  He held his hands up. “I didn't. I wouldn't. I'm easing her in, nice and slow. But she's going to be the best little anal slut. I can already tell by the way she's responding to what I've introduced her to so far.”

  Lindsay relaxed and went back to his desk. “Fine, you can have it. Her ass is officially your territory. Happy?”

  “Ecstatic.”

  When Damian had gone, Lindsay let out a long slow breath and pressed the intercom button on his phone. “Miss Foster, can I see you in my office please?”

  A moment later, the door opened and Shannon stood there, looking more uncertain than he'd seen her in a long time. Yes, they definitely had to explain things very soon. He motioned for her to come all the way in.

  “Shut the door behind you.”

  She shut the door but still hovered close to it, a wide open gulf between them. Was this where they were after only three nights of her in another man's bed?

  “Were you a dirty whore for me this weekend with Damian? Did you obey him like I asked you to?”

  “Y-yes, Sir.” A flush crept up her neck.

  And now he knew what that flush was about.

  He knew he'd told her to call him Sir at the office. He didn't want her to slip up and call him Master in front of a patient, but having her call him by the lesser title right after coming back from Damian's made him want to punish her even though she hadn't wanted him to leave her to begin with.

  “Come here, kitten,” he said, his voice going more gentle.

  After another moment's hesitation she came to stand beside him. He scooted back from the desk.

  “Sit here on the desk facing me, and spread your legs.”

  Shannon hopped up on his desk, and spread her legs but still looked down at the ground.

  “Hey, look at me,” he said.

  She looked up. “You're not mad, right?”

  “Why would I be mad?”

  “I-I called him Sir at his house and we... did things.”

  Lindsay rolled his chair in closer to her, brushing the hair out of her face. “You did what I told you to do. Damian will be filming it in the future when I can't be there. I want to see everything he does to you.”

  She nodded. He knew she had questions but she didn't ask why she would be going back to Damian's in the future. Lindsay thought she didn't ask because she liked Damian and wanted to go back. She just needed permission to want to.

  “It's okay to want him, to like him,” Lindsay said. “It's even okay someday if you start to love him.”

  Her eyes snapped to his at that, an unspoken question in her gaze. But he distracted her from the discussion he wasn't yet ready to have by slipping his hand between her legs. She wasn't wearing panties, and she was so so very wet.

  “Good girl,” he murmured as he stroked her.

  ***

  By the time they got back to the house it felt like things had gone back to normal between them. Shannon had lost her feelings of awkwardness after being at Damian's for the weekend. Except for meals and those amazing baths where he prepared her body for his play, she and Damian had spent the weekend in bed.

  He'd spent the entire time training her ass for sex, but he didn't fuck her there, no matter how badly she wanted it or how much she begged. He just said... “We will get to it,” leaving her a hot needy mess all weekend even as he made her come over and over with his mouth, his fingers, and his cock inside her pussy.

  “Eat some dinner in the cafeteria then meet me in our room,” Lindsay said, kissing her on the forehead. Her face flamed at the things she'd just been thinking about. She felt guilty for thinking about Damian when she was with Lindsay.

  “Yes, Master,” she said, her fingers straying to her collar.

  “Did you take that collar off when you were at Damian's?” he asked.

  “No, Master.”

  “Good.”

  She watched as he grabbed a tray of food from the buffet and took it upstairs to his room. She wanted to join him up there, but he'd told her to eat in the cafeteria. Maybe he wanted her to be around the other girls. She needed to readjust to the noise of the house.

  Damian's house was so quiet and peaceful. Lindsay's was so loud and full of people. She got a tray from the buffet, thinking about her weekend and what this all could mean.

  Could she someday love Damian? Would she see him regularly enough for that? What had Lindsay meant that it was okay for her to love him? It seemed he planned to share her with another man long term. Once her initial fear had dissipated, it had been so easy to fall into a rhythm with Damian. It would be so easy to fall for him.

  She wasn't watching where she was going and walked right into Brian.

  “I-I'm sorry,” she said, almost dropping her tray.

  He caught it before it fell and gave it back to her. “Watch where you're going!” he snarled.

  “I-I'm sorry, Sir,” she said again.

  But he'd already stalked off.

  She let out a long shaky breath and sat at an empty table, still trembling from her close brush with Brian.

  ***

  Shannon woke to the sound of a knife scraping across stone. She was blindfolded, naked, and bound spread-eagled to a St. Andrew's cross. How had she gotten here? Was this a dream? But she knew it wasn't. Despite the realism of those dreams, being here, hearing that fucking grating scrape against the wall was more real than it had ever been in any of her nightmares in all these long years.

  “Master?” she asked, her voice faltering. Please be exposure therapy. Please be exposure therapy. Somehow she knew that wasn't what this was. Lindsay would never do that to her, but she didn't want to face reality just yet. Just another second of denial.

  “Nope. Guess again,” Brian said.

  How had she gotten here? How could this have happened... again? It wasn't like the last time when he'd dragged her kicking and screaming down to the dungeon and gripped her by the throat, binding her as she'd fought him. This had been a quiet kind of violence. Strangely polite in its execution.

  But... how? He'd drugged her, she realized suddenly. When he'd bumped into her...he must have put something into her food or drink. He'd been planning this. But hadn't she known that the day he'd stared at her from across the cafeteria?

  She cringed as his fingertips traced over the scars on her back. “Some of my best work,” he said, obviously proud of himself.

  She recalled Hunter down in Damian's dungeon telling her he'd just created some of his best work. She was a creation of these men, all these men. She was a creation of Lindsay, and Brian, and Damian, and even Hunter. And before that, the man who had broken her heart and led her to Lindsay's office in the first place. Was there even a single piece left of her that she'd created? Had she ever created a single piece of her own s
elf or her own life or had she always been a pawn and plaything acted upon but never acting for herself? Never making the choice she wanted or taking the risk she needed to take. She'd instead lived as everyone else's background, never the center of her own life.

  But were the scars on her back really Brian's work? Lindsay had stitched her up that day. He'd been the one who'd fixed these scars into their final almost meticulous and neatly laid out form. These marks had more of Lindsay in them than Brian.

  If they were truly Brian's marks they'd be more chaotic. The sadistic psychopath had left her to die. He hadn't intended for her to survive to have scars in the first place. They only existed because she'd survived him. They existed more because of Lindsay than Brian, and not because the doctor had brought her to the house but because he'd saved her that day.

  Brian stroked the back of her throat around her collar as if he even knew how to be gentle with anyone but Mina. Or as if he wanted to.

  He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Come on, Shannon, you always knew we'd end up back here. You had to know I needed to finish what we started.”

  The tears were already falling, turning into gasping sobs. “Please, Sir. Please. I've never done anything... n-not since that day. Please please.”

  “You're right. You've been a very good girl but you have terrible taste in men.”

  “I didn't choose him!” she said. Even as she said it, it felt like a betrayal. No, she hadn't chosen to belong to Lindsay. He'd made that choice for both of them, but she'd wanted him. She'd wanted him from the first day she'd seen him.

  “The doc has to pay,” Brian said. “He's got to lose something.”

  “Please, not me,” she whimpered.

  “Sorry, you're the only thing he cares about. So it's got to be you.”

  But Brian wasn't sorry. He sounded giddy, gleeful. Like he couldn't wait to rip apart her flesh and leave her a bleeding dying mess. And this time she knew he'd finish the job. He'd make sure he did it right. He wouldn't give Lindsay the opportunity to save her this time.

  She started to scream.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lindsay had been looking for Shannon for the past twenty minutes. She was supposed to be waiting for him in his room but she was nowhere to be found. He asked several of the girls until one admitted she'd seen Brian carrying her down to the dungeon a few minutes before. He was so angry he wanted to fucking kill that girl.