Tormented Dreams: Club Risqué Book Seven

by Flynn, Poppy

  Xavier's movements were quick and efficient as he moved around his kitchen and utility room. Digging some clothespins out of a drawer, he checked each of them carefully and tested the amount of give in each one. Then he dumped a dozen of them into the dishwasher and set it to sterilise. Grabbing some ginger root from his vegetable store, he pared and shaped it carefully while he waited for the brief steaming function to finish. Placing everything on a tray, his final task was to grab an ice bucket and fill it with ice cubes before he went back to the bedroom.

  Glancing at a side table on the way, he grabbed a fat candle from the decorative arrangement there and hurried back to the kitchen for a lighter before he jogged back up the stairs with his improvised toys.

  For just a few precious moments, Xavier paused in the doorway to admire the way she looked, splayed out, ready for him, on his bed.

  He wondered, briefly, at the wave of pleasure that flooded him at the sight of her there in this, his own private space. He might not have brought another woman here before, but somehow, she looked right. As if she belonged right there, laid out on his mattress, for his indulgence and gratification.

  And hers.

  Xavier pushed away from the doorframe and decided he'd let her stew for long enough. She'd been so very good, waiting patiently without complaining. It was time she got her reward.

  "I've got some treats for you," he promised huskily. "Are you looking forward to them? Do you want me to tell you what they are, or shall I just surprise you?" He knew the latter was normally her preference, but this was a different environment. She didn't have the safety of a dungeon monitor overseeing their scene.

  "Surprise me," she whispered, her voice a shiver of lust and anticipation, her eyes finding and holding his, full of trust and desire. He was humbled by it.

  "For all intents and purposes, this will be just like scening at the club. We'll use the traffic light system, the same as usual. I'll check on you and ask what colour you are, throughout. Understand?"

  "Yes, Master, I understand."

  "What about your limits? Is there anything that you might prefer to suspend in our current environment?"

  "No, Sir, I trust you implicitly," she replied steadily, holding his gaze and letting him see the truth of her words.

  Her wholehearted conviction and the way she slipped effortlessly into the scene despite being here, in his fairly innocuous bedroom, rather than within the safety and ambience of the club setting, made his heart swell just that little bit more. Damn, she was perfect!

  "Very well. If that changes at all, you tell me. If you're uncomfortable with the way things are going, use your words. You can bring this to a halt at any time."

  Grace nodded. "Yes, Master, I know."

  Satisfied that she was comfortable with how things were going to proceed and trusting her to tell him if there was a problem, Xavier dug around in his doctor's bag for one of the individual sachets of Surgilube he kept in there for rectal assessments, and he tossed it onto the tray with the rest of his goodies. Tonight's examination was going to be very much more pleasurable than those he normally encountered in his day job, he thought with a wicked grin.

  Xavier looked down at Grace's perfect skin as it glowed in the subdued lamplight, the paleness appearing stark against the unrelieved slate blue of his bed covers. That flesh would soon be rosy red and welted, and he gave in to the urge to touch her flawless flanks. Stroking his palms across the enticing swell of her buttocks, he enjoyed the contrast of his olive tanned complexion against her snow-white skin tone.

  He rubbed a little harder, bringing the blood to the surface, conscious of her fair skin's likeliness to bruise and wanting to reduce the chances. He might be a sadist, but that was purely in the moment; he didn't want to cause any lasting damage.

  He picked up his belt, dragging it slowly across the bed from where he'd left it in her line of sight so that she could follow it with her eyes. He enjoyed the spark of knowledge that flared there as he did so, but he didn't speed his movements.

  As he stood to one side, away from her line of vision, he doubled the belt in half and gave a couple of slaps against his thigh, purely for effect. He couldn't help the wicked grin that crossed his face when Grace jumped at the unexpected sound then wiggled on the bed, unconsciously arching her back and presenting her ass higher in anticipation.

  Xavier didn't keep her waiting any longer. He brought down the supple leather across both her ass cheeks simultaneously, leaving a wide line of red to bloom across the swell.

  Grace gasped and moaned, rubbing her clit against the mattress instinctively, but it was a sound of pleasure rather than real hurt.

  Letting rip with a volley of hard whacks, Xavier planned to change that. He wanted her sobbing and her pain. He wanted her cries and her screams. He wanted her ass swollen and red and hot to the touch. He wanted the illusion of hurting her and the satisfaction of making it all better afterward. He wanted her, full stop!

  He knew, being the masochist she was, that her brain processes would transmute the pain he doled out into an altered kind of pleasure in her mind, but her shrieks and her tears would be real, and her backside would be scorching and sore as he fucked it. And he planned on fucking it fiercely.

  His cock hardened to rock as he covered every inch of her butt with the biting kisses from his belt. Grace was openly crying now, the tears running down her face. She was uninhibited in her screams, even more so than she was at the club, and although he could see that she was still grinding her clit against the bed and could see the sticky evidence of her pleasure coating her inner thighs, he paused to check, nevertheless.

  "What colour are you, sub?" he demanded breathlessly, freeing the buttons of his shirt as he waited for her reply.

  "Gr-green," she stammered breathlessly, turning beautiful tear streaked eyes on him. 'Very, very green, but please…please don't stop!" she wailed.

  Shrugging off his shirt, Xavier gave a brief single nod in acknowledgement, then he flexed his fingers as he altered his grip on the belt. This time, he held the buckle and wound a single loop of the leather around his fist before he peppered her butt with the single tail of leather. Like this, the belt was lighter and stingier, wrapping itself insidiously around the curve of her butt cheeks and the tops of her thighs as he targeted those as well.

  When Grace's shoulders began to shake with her sobs, he decided she'd had enough. She probably wouldn't agree, but Xavier had plenty more tricks up his sleeve and the night was still young.

  He paused just long enough to enjoy running his palms over the scorching heat of her buttocks. A flash of pleasure zipped through him as he gave them a harsh squeeze for good measure, causing her to yelp.

  He continued to massage with his free hand, perpetuating the sting while he reached for the ginger butt plug he had carved. He wasn't gentle. He wanted her to be able to feel the ginger burn. Driving it firmly inside her puckered rosette, Xavi thrust it back and forth along her tender tissue for maximum effect before he deftly flipped her over onto her back. With a dark appreciation, he noted the way her breath hissed through her clenched teeth as her sore cheeks came into contact with the firm mattress and the ginger root plug worked its wicked magic.

  Despite her discomfort, he also noticed how her brimming eyes darkened in appreciation as she took in his naked torso and the unmistakable swell beneath his unbuttoned fly.

  She arched her back, offering herself up to him as a gift—a gift that he planned to make the most of.

  Considering his next move, he left her to ponder the effects of the ginger root, while he grabbed a spare sheet from his linen closet to preserve the bedcovers. Rearranging her, none too gently, he took wicked delight in bouncing her tortured backside on the bed after he situated the protective covering.

  Dipping his hand into the melting pot of ice, Xavier retrieved a cube and wasted no time introducing the searing cold to some of the more sensitive areas of Grace's skin.

  She shrieked and her nipples
puckered into hard, tight pebbles as he drew wet circles around the tips with deliberate slowness, then watched in delight as her skin raised a trail of goose bumps wherever he roamed.

  Down across the subtle swell of her tummy, across the indents of her pelvic bone, the cube was small now, and Xavier judged that it wouldn't do any damage to her tender inner flesh before it melted as he swept it across her mons and pressed it inside of her.

  Grace squealed at the sensation and canted her hips against the cold, but it was short lived.

  Before repeating the action, Xavier flicked the lighter and lit the candle, giving the wax a chance to pool, while a second ice cube melted within the intimate sheath of her body.

  He watched, knowingly, for the moment she realised her predicament. Every time she clenched or squirmed against the other stimuli, the ginger plug did its dastardly work.

  Testing the wax on the inside of his wrist, Xavier judged the height at which he needed to spill the wax for maximum potential without the danger of burning her. He was mindful that it was a normal house candle, rather than a specially made erotic candle that melted at a lower temperature. But then he was also conscious that since Grace was a masochist, her pain threshold would be higher than most subs as well. Still, he didn't want to scald her unnecessarily.

  Xavi knew full well that Grace would probably revel in it, but despite being a sadist, he didn't have any desire to do any permanent damage. Beating a sub bloody would never be his idea of fun. While he relished the edgier side of dominance, he preferred to be somewhat more inventive in his discipline.

  From the state of the open lash wounds he had treated when he'd first met Grace, but the tell-tale lack of any severe scarring, he suspected that she had recently started to exceed the threshold of safe, corporeal force and was slowly headed into dangerously excessive territory. Likely, she had become impervious and inured against the level of pain she received and needed more and more brutality in order to find the satisfaction and the highs that she sought from the lifestyle. Xavi felt obliged to re-educate her and prove that there were alternatives to simply demanding an increased severity in an overly narrow focus of corporal punishment.

  Following the damp lines that he had drawn with the ice, Xavier repeated them with the candle wax. Hot on top of cold.

  Spirals of colour swirled around the globes of her breasts and across the planes of her fluttering stomach, and his chest swelling with satisfaction as Grace writhed and whimpered on the bed.

  "Argh…the ginger!" he heard her mutter, more to herself than to him.

  He ventured lower, across her hipbone and down her quivering legs, allowing the liquid to flow onto the skin of her sensitive inner thighs.

  Damn, but she was responsive. Xavi couldn't help but appreciate how much. Sometimes the masochists he met were so hardened that it was difficult to pry any reaction from them. Not much fun in that for a sadist who lusted after each precious little sound of anguish and ecstasy.

  Not so with Grace.

  Her body trembled and quaked. The little whimpering noises and the sobs she tried so hard to repress were a joy to listen to. They fed the perverse need inside him for the deviant and ratcheted up his lust to a higher intensity.

  There had been a time during his youth when Xavi had tried to curb what he had believed were abnormal desires, judging that they were dangerously at odds with his occupation. But all that had led to was frustration and a lack of concentration and attentiveness that really did put his patients at risk.

  With some valuable help and insight from his colleague, psychologist Micah Flynn, who was now the Manager of Club Risqué, Master X had been born and Xavier had finally managed to balance his two opposing character traits.

  Once he had started embracing them, instead of resisting the pull, his life had taken a much richer, calmer and infinitely more satisfying direction.

  He had long been content with the life he now led…but Grace? Well, she just seemed to complete him, filling a void he hadn't even realised was present until he met her.

  Popping a half-melted ice cube to pool in her navel, Xavier reached for a handful of clothespins. Her nipples were still puckered and hard, and he trapped first one and then the other between the biting pincer tips before swiftly placing a third on her peaking clit without allowing her time in between to regain her equilibrium.

  As her initial squeals receded, Master X took great delight in re-igniting them as he placed several more clothespins on the sensitive skin of her labia and even on the tender undersides of her breasts as well as her inner thighs.

  Grace couldn't stop herself from wriggling and writhing as she did her best to escape the clamping jaws, but each movement only made things worse, jiggling the evil, pinching grips so that the pain flared, causing her to jump some more in a complete catch-twenty-two scenario. The more she wriggled, the more they jiggled; the more they jiggled, the harder they pinched, and the harder they pinched, the more she wiggled. And each and every movement increased the ginger burn. It was a joy of dilemma and when Grace attempted to still her body to break the predicament, Xavier took great delight in flicking the ends of the pins to get her hopping again.

  Watching her lustfully, Xavier exalted in her pain while he unhurriedly removed the rest of his clothes. Then he gripped his cock with firm fingers and deliberately pumped back and forth right there in her view, grinning wickedly as he watched her swallow unconsciously and lick her lips.

  He used the flick of the belt to pick off the clothespins adorning her inner thighs, admiring the pretty pink splashes of colour they left and the random pattern that decorated her pale skin.

  Grace was still screaming from the painful flow of blood rushing back into her labia and clit when he pushed forcefully inside her.

  Xavier grabbed her heated buttocks, squeezing them mercilessly in his palms as he used them for leverage, holding her up off the bed and all but immobile as he pounded ruthlessly inside her clutching sheath.

  This was no time for gentle and Xavier's over stimulated psyche was dangling at the thin edge of control.

  He watched in fascination as Grace's generous breasts bounced where her shoulders still settled on the bed, her bound wrists still stretched out above her head.

  He felt the clutch of her pulsing sex as he thrust mercilessly to bottom out against her cervix as deep as he could possibly get, feeling every millimetre of the incremental tightness caused by the ginger plug.

  He heard the small sounds, the pants and the tiny hiccupping sobs that were torn from her sweet lips through every jolt of his body that connected with her own.

  And then he experienced all three together as he felt her channel tighten distinctively around his thrusting cock, her eyes widening as they gripped him in her gaze and her mouth sucking in a stuttering breath, only to be expelled in a breathy moan as her climax overtook her.

  Xavier chose his moment to release the last two clothespins from the tips of her nipples then threw his head back. The tendons in his neck tensed in sharp relief as he roared out his own completion when the pleasure-pain drove Grace to an even higher pinnacle and she howled in tandem, bucking her hips as they both rode the surf of their respective orgasms.

  Xavier extended the pleasure as long as was humanly possible. He reached around and fucked her puckered hole with the pungent ginger, reigniting that heat, before he pulled it out and tossed it onto the tray. Then he fell forward, his knees close to giving out, and welcomed her legs wrapping around him as he bit into the already tender tips of her nipples before collapsing on top of her while their sweat mingled and they both sucked in oxygen in laboured, gasping breaths.

  As Xavier groaned and rolled exhaustedly to the side to avoid crushing her, there was just one thought in his mind; by Christ, she was magnificent!

  Chapter 10

  Grace woke slowly with a delicious lassitude deep in her bones and the kind of contentment that she usually only dreamed about in those enchanted, wistful hours before the cold light
of dawn blew the cobwebs away and the harshness of reality set in.

  Today was different. She was so warm and satisfied that she didn't want to free herself from the little bubble of enjoyment she was floating in and get back to reality, so it took her a while to realise that she wasn't at home in her own lonely bed.

  Gradually, though, the scorching heat at her back and the heavy, unfamiliar weight draped across her midriff brought those more lucid thoughts prodding, unwelcomed, into her rapidly clearing mind. And that wasn't the only thing that was prodding her.

  Grace almost laughed out loud.

  As clarity returned and she found herself in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar house, that was her first rational thought?

  Huh! Well, why the heck not? was the only notion that followed. She wiggled her butt ever so gently against the hard body that was plastered up against her. There was a delightful residue of warmth still present in the deep tissue of her glutes. Not enough to hurt, just enough to remind her of the wonderfully gratifying night she had spent under Xavier's control.

  The man was a revelation! Never in her life, and her considerably wide experience as a masochist, had she ever felt as if something was missing from her kink encounters and her subsequent sex life, but in just a matter of weeks, Xavier had shown her that there was so much more!

  Contentment washed wistfully through her psyche. She really wished that she could stay like this forever. That this was her reality.

  Okay, so she'd like a baby to go hand in hand with that reality, but what she had here and now was a damn fine start. Maybe even enough for her to put her baby dream off for twelve precious months so that they could explore this kind of togetherness.