Truly Helpless

by Joey W. Hill

  It was a decently active night at Safe Word, for a week day. The club was not as upscale as The Zone, but safe, clean, and with enough amenities to cater to middle-class BDSM lifestylers. An enthusiastic group of mostly naked subs were being directed through various line dances on the small dance floor, and cheerfully punished by a trio of patrolling Dominants when they had missteps.

  The DJ was playing Alan Jackson and Jimmy Buffet's duet of "It's Five O' Clock Somewhere," so as she went by, she hooked her thumbs in an imaginary belt and did a decent two-step and twirl. It made Mistress Zoe, one of the Dommes directing the action, grin and do a little pirouette in sisterly response. When she invited Regina to join them, Regina shook her head and gave her a friendly wave, letting her know she had other plans tonight.

  About half of the handful of private rooms were occupied, while other Masters, Mistresses and subs enjoyed the equipment in the public dungeon. Her destination was the lounge and bar area, where there were scattered couches and comfortable chairs, seating areas for people to socialize. One of the things Regina looked for in the BDSM clubs she chose was evidence that the long-term membership used it as much for a social gathering spot as a place to get their kink on.

  Case in point: Kristoff and Janice, Master and sub, both in street clothes, were relaxing in one set of facing chairs, playing a card game. Janice had her bare foot propped on her Master's knee, her casual heels tumbled on the floor. When they both suddenly lunged forward and tried to slap the card on the table, Regina grinned, realizing they were playing Slapjack. Janice won, laughing, while Kristoff gave her a mock scowl and they started again.

  Though they were in an environment where they could make it about more than a card game, they might or might not. Lifestylers often hung out at their favorite club the way other people went to their favorite bar or coffee shop. It was their place, their people. While The Zone was her first choice for serious play, Regina had always liked the energy here as a good runner-up. Since Marius was currently banned from The Zone, this was the best option for what she had in mind. She'd left his name up front as her guest, so they'd let him in. If he decided to show.

  She glanced at her watch. 8:55. He was cutting it close. So yeah, he'd fucked his head up over the other night. If he showed tonight, he'd be spoiling for a fight. Fine. She'd position herself accordingly. The Throne corner was available.

  The tall wooden chair placed there had earned the name with its carved floral back and velvet seat and arm rests. A center board and cushion could be removed to reveal a strategically placed hole beneath the Mistress, if she wanted her sub to eat her pussy or tongue her ass while she was in the chair.

  The Throne was flanked by two shorter stools, which could serve as seating for bottoms or a prop to do other things to them. One night, she'd put a sub over each one while she took the center seat. Both men had donned thin body suits lined with metallic thread. The suits had an opening that allowed their cocks to hang free, and she'd ordered both to don a seven-ring gates of hell to contain their erect shafts until their queen allowed them to climax.

  As she enjoyed holding court that night with Mistresses who visited her for the fun of joining in the role play, she idly stroked the men's bodies with her scepter, a violet wand that crackled electric energy over their flesh. Thanks to the metallic thread, the enhanced sensation sent hard shudders through them. When she applied it to the rings around their hard and needy cocks, the response was particularly volatile. But her favorite part had been running the wand over the stretched fabric around their testicles. Leaned over the bench, legs spread, arms braced on the floor as they faced outward, they never knew when to expect that.

  Speak of the devil. One of those subs, Rob, was here tonight. He was at the bar, chatting with the bartender, but when he saw her, his eyes lighted with pleasure. Before she'd had her gradual shift toward problem subs, he'd been a favorite hook-up for her.

  Rob was married to a woman he adored, but who had no interest in BDSM. He'd brought her once when they were engaged, but not to see if he could change her mind. They'd already tried that route. Regina thought favorably of Rob, but her regard increased that night, for both him and Thea. Rob's intent in bringing her was to introduce her to the Mistresses whom he might seek out for play, and say in front of each one: "My fiancee has given me permission to pursue those interests here." None of that "she knows about this, but hey, you don't get to ask her directly because I'm lying my ass off" bullshit that so many men tried to pull.

  In the BDSM world, people didn't pass judgment, but Regina had no interest in playing with attached people who were lying to their other half about it. Didn't matter if sex happened or not; everyone knew BDSM play had a vital sexual core, so if she was playing with a man or woman who hadn't told a committed partner about this part of their life, and she found out about it, that was it. It didn't sit right with her, so she passed on future sessions with them.

  Rob had cleared the purpose of the visit with his Mistresses ahead of time, so they'd been surreptitiously watching him make the rounds with his wife as soon as they arrived. Thea was a little thing with a powerful presence. Lots of curly red hair and big brown eyes. Her clothes were well chosen for her slightly plump figure, neat and fashionable.

  At first, she'd been quiet and watchful, but by the time Rob introduced her to Regina, the acceptance and friendly nature of his other three regular Mistresses had relaxed her enough to show her feelings more openly.

  "And he won't be playing at any other club," she added to Rob's declaration. "Outside of Safe Word, he belongs to me." Regina saw a trace of vulnerability in her expression, but the set to her chin was steady. Rob had his hand on the small of her back, his body pressed close to her, a reminder of love and support. He sent Regina a half-smile, though his eyes conveyed his worry, which told Regina that coming here had been Thea's idea. Another point in the woman's favor.

  Though Regina was almost half a foot taller and far more physically imposing than his bride-to-be, Rob rallied enough to give Regina a meaningful head-to-toe look. "Don't make my future wife kick your ass to prove it, Mistress. She's a dispatcher with city sanitation. I've seen her keep those guys in line in ways that would make your knees shake."

  "I believe it." Regina grinned and took Thea's hand for a firm shake. "Deal. And no problem. We all know he's a pain in the ass when he's not gagged or tied up. So out there, he's all yours. If you ever need any tips on how to give him a good beating, let me know."

  Then, more seriously, she'd squeezed the woman's hand. "We'll take good care of him. And if ever you're not comfortable with this, you don't need to worry. He loves you more than what happens here."

  "I know." Thea met her gaze squarely, showing her a woman who did know her man, who didn't need another woman to tell her any damn thing about him. "He was going to give it up for me. That was why he was gone for a couple months. It took me a while to understand. But I know...when he comes home from this, he's more relaxed, more attentive, more...him. I trust him. I trust his love." She'd looked up at him and caressed his jaw. As she did, Rob dipped his head and kissed her palm.

  Regina came back to the present as Rob approached. Taking her friendly, casual nod as a cue that he shouldn't kneel and enter a more formal sub protocol, he came to her as an equal. But he was dressed for play in a utilitarian collar and a pair of jeans only, hanging low on his slim hips so she knew he wore nothing under them. He wasn't built like Marius, but Rob took good care of himself. He was a jogger who worked out at the gym several times a week.

  "What's Thea up to tonight?" she asked.

  "Girl movie with her friends. She's going to come home ready to jump me because she'll have been ogling some half-dressed movie star for a couple hours."

  "Well, fair's fair." Regina grinned. "How many times do you come home from here and ravish her until she can't walk because we hardly ever let you come? Our thanks to her for her donation to our cause."

  He flushed a little, though he grinned.
"You're right, Mistress. On that note..." He lowered his gaze. "Is there any way I can serve you tonight?"

  "It depends. I was waiting for someone." A glance at her watch showed it was one minute after nine. Well, then. "He's late, so he's missed his chance. But he may show. If he does, I want to be involved with someone. If you've no objection to me shamelessly using you to prove a point, I promise to pay for your and Thea's next dinner out as thanks."

  Rob lifted his head, giving her a speculative look, but properly refrained from asking more penetrating questions. "No need for that. I'm happy to serve. What do you have in mind?"

  Her gaze coursed over him. "I want you wearing a lot less. And Rob..." She paused until he met her gaze, another equal-to-equal communication. "This could get ugly, but it's between me and him. If things escalate, I need you to step back and trust my lead. No testosterone displays. That's a red flag to this bull. I'm not trying to placate him. I'm trying to teach him something, and that requires me to have total control over all reactions to his behavior, mine or yours. Understood? You can still back out, if you're not comfortable."

  Rob considered that. "Sounds interesting. Short of him throwing a punch at you, I think I can sit on my powder keg of testosterone."

  She chuckled, appreciating him. "Great. Well then?" She put a hand on her hip and quirked an imperious brow, feeling the pleasure of her Mistress side taking the upper hand as Rob picked up on it. He immediately stripped, set aside the clothes and dropped to one knee before her. Then all the way to his elbows as she propped a high heel on his back and applied pressure. She'd worn skin-tight thin leggings under a micro skirt that clung to her ass, and a snug, crisp button-down shirt loose over it. Schoolmistress meets school girl. The slick red heels added a touch of blatant sex to the ensemble.

  She heard the little catch in his breath when she dug one of the sharp stiletto points into his side. She loved her challenges, but Goddess, a willing sub was like a free piece of birthday cake. Nothing anyone with brain cells would pass up the chance to eat.

  She bent and ran a hand over his thick, sandy blond hair. "Go kneel before the throne. I need a footrest."

  "Yes, Mistress."

  He showed at 9:40. One of the first things she noticed was he hadn't shaved, because the shadow of his beard was dark on his jutting jaw. He wore jeans and a snug white T-shirt that had no embellishment except the impressive muscle beneath it. Given the cut and fit of the jeans, he also intended a Mistress to know exactly what she could have. If she played his game.

  She'd slipped off her shoes some time ago and had her soles pressed against Rob, one on his side, the other on the curve of his ass because he knelt before her in profile. Thanks to Marius being so late, she'd had time to entertain herself. Rob was currently stroking his cock in time to the music coming over the speakers. He'd almost gone over the edge with a couple faster pieces, but the ballads disrupted him, earning her amusement and his affable frustration. But he was a pleasure to watch. So obedient and sexy at once, his cock hard and thick in his hand, his buttock and side flexing under her foot. He was breathing fast now, so close.

  She lifted her gaze to Marius only when he approached and stood on the other side of Rob, so that his tempting lower body molded by denim was in her line of sight. He could have seen that she was engaged and blown her off right then, but he would have had to leave, since he was here as her guest. She expected he would have done it, regardless. He would have let her see him, then left the club as if it didn't mean a damn thing to him, with his lips curled in that sneer. But he hadn't.

  Though she didn't expect tonight was going to be a smooth road, she took that as a step in the right direction. When her attention moved to his face, his expression suggested he was about to unwisely toss off some smart assed quip.

  He showed a modicum of good sense and suppressed it. Instead, he stood still and stared at her defiantly, waiting to be acknowledged. Thanks to the past forty minutes, during which Rob had eased her deep into that liquid pool where she could feel every ripple through the waters from her chosen submissive, the vibrations of energy off Marius were as detailed to her as a polygraph.

  "Yeah, I'm late," Marius said abruptly. "But I'm here now. Ready to serve, Mistress."

  She noted he'd barely looked at Rob. He seemed to be actively avoiding any acknowledgement of his existence. Interesting.

  "Do you have an excuse?" she asked.

  "Would it matter?"

  "No. Come now," she said gently.

  His gaze snapped to her, Marius visibly caught off guard when he realized she wasn't speaking to him. Rob jetted into the condom he was wearing, his body jerking, hair falling attractively over his brow and eye as he let the orgasm have him. Regina kneaded him with her toes, crooning, giving him her approval and encouragement. She ignored Marius. No matter that she'd chosen Rob to help her teach him a lesson, she wouldn't deny the man her full focus as Mistress during his release.

  Regina had negotiated an orgasm from him, but before she cut him loose, she'd make sure he was sufficiently revived and hurting for pussy. He would be required to properly care for his wife after her "girl movie," and Regina wouldn't be the one causing him to fall down on the job, so to speak.

  When Rob finished, she eased him to his elbows and knees facing her, his forehead touching the ground, and let him get his breath back. She sat back, sliding her feet into her heels so she could brace those against Rob and let him feel the pleasurable dig into his shoulder and flank again. Marius remained motionless, one hand hooked in his pocket, the other loose, fingers curled in a half fist.

  "Take off the shirt," she said, making eye contact so this time there was no doubt she was addressing him.

  He obeyed. As he stretched his upper torso, she saw the slide of one hip bone below firm flesh as he twisted and pulled the shirt loose. His bruises had healed some more, now yellowish and fading, rather than purple and dark.

  "Throw it over here," she said, lifting her hand.

  "I can bring it."

  "No. Rob has that spot right now. Toss it."

  He balled it up and complied, probably with more force than required, but she caught it on her outstretched fingers. Spreading it out over both hands, she lifted it to her face, inhaling the scent. He might not have shaved, but he'd showered. His scent differed from encounter to encounter, as if he changed out soap brands often. Curious. Most men stuck with one preference. She had no objection to this one, a spicy citrus. She could feel the lingering heat of his body through the cloth.

  "This is the price of being late," she said, settling the shirt on the chair arm. "How do you think I'll look when I go to bed tonight, wearing just it and a pair of panties?" Lifting her hand, she caressed her breast and ran her thumb over the nipple, which grew more erect against the fabric of her button-down shirt as she stroked it. Rob's performance had aroused her, and it didn't take much to send a ripple of response arrowing between her legs. Marius's hot gray gaze sped it along. His jaw was tight.

  Not sure how to respond to me, are you, angry boy? Not used to dealing with someone who not only doesn't cater to your shit, but doesn't get worked up over it.

  He stepped forward, so close the toes of his shoes pressed rudely against the side of Rob's curved body. The man stiffened, but he kept his head down, in the position Regina had dictated. Yeah, he was going to test his testosterone against Rob's, just as Regina had anticipated. She didn't want to go too far down that road, though she wasn't going to back away from it, either, if Marius pushed it. She trusted Rob to follow her direction.

  "I think it won't fit over your tits," Marius said, his eyes coursing over them in insolent appraisal.

  "Think not? Hmm." She straightened and flicked open the buttons of her shirt before shrugging it off her shoulders. Her red lace bra had a front fastener that she handled just as easily, lifting away from the back of the throne chair enough to slide it off. Rob's head lifted.

  In an instant, Marius had his thick tread shoe on the
back of the man's neck. "She didn't say you could look at her," he growled.

  "I didn't say he couldn't either," she said coolly. "Step back, Marius."

  His expressive lips were capable of a wide variety of snarls and grimaces. This one tried to convey a fuck it, who cares sneer, but it was closer to a predatory snarl. He did step back, however. Not far, one shoe tip still against Rob's knee, the other under his body. She could tell Rob's temper had sparked, but the man was holding, his body language still mostly relaxed.

  She put on the T-shirt. It was snug over her D-cup breasts, but the effect was everything she wanted. Her taut nipples strained against the fabric so that the areolas were visible dark smudges. "Looks like a perfect fit to me," she observed, sitting back. "Go get me a Coke Zero with lemon. And a bottle of water for Rob. Tell the bartender to run a tab for me."

  She cupped both her breasts, pleasing herself with the way they looked in Marius's T-shirt. She'd enjoy using a vibrator on herself tonight when she was home in bed. She'd inhale his scent, look down at her body and imagine his eyes flashing with the fire she saw when she gave him the drink order. He seemed caught between murder and lust...and stark need. The last could derail her, so she set that aside. She couldn't give him what they both wanted until he knew how to ask for it the right way.

  She heard Rob mutter a soft curse, telling her he was seeing enough in his peripheral vision that his engines were re-starting. Good. She was a generous Mistress that way. On other things, she was a hardass bitch.

  Marius returned with the drinks. He set the bottled water next to Rob when she pointed, and offered her the Coke Zero.

  "Rob, drink some of the water. I'll need your mouth wet shortly." Rising as the sub moved to do her bidding, she took her drink from Marius's hand, limiting the contact between their fingers. As she sipped, she studied his face, not bothering to hide her frank assessment. His bored expression said he thought he knew the game she was playing, and he wasn't impressed with her attempt to punish him for his attitude and lateness. Yet when she handed the drink back to him, she felt tension in his fingers.