Dungeon Building

by Melinda Barron

  “This is a great place.”

  “Thank you.” She sat back on her knees. There was no time like the present to bring up the concerns she had. “If I may—”

  “You may not.” He walked past her. “Let’s go back to the living room where it’s warm.”

  This time, she had to navigate down the stairs on her hands and knees. They weren’t as steep as the basement steps, but it wasn’t easy. When they were in the living room, she bit back the urge to ask him if he wanted to see the rest of the house.

  He sat down in the middle of the couch. “Fetch a pen and a pad of paper. I would think a writer would have one nearby.”

  Evelyn went to the rolltop desk where she kept her important papers and found what he wanted. She clasped one item in each hand and then had to crawl on her knuckles.

  When she was in front of him, Evelyn offered them to him.

  “Take a memo, Inky.”

  “And what will this memo be about, Sir Logan?”

  “I told you we needed a list for the dungeon. The first thing we need is a new bathroom.”

  “There’s a bathroom down there,” she objected.

  “There’s a toilet and a tub. I want it finished. We’ll start our dungeon building on December first, which gives Sparky’s Plumbing two weeks to finish. Tell them it’s for me. They’ll get on the stick, and they’ll work us in around the people who have busted pipes because of the cold.”

  “Oh no.” Evelyn put the pad down. “I tell them you want to finish the bathroom in my basement, and they’re going to know that”—she was a journalist who couldn’t come up with the right words—“that something’s going on between us.”

  Logan shook his head slowly. She could see that he was disappointed in her. “Everyone’s going to know anyway, Inky. There’s no way around it. It’s best to be open about it.”

  “I don’t like that idea.”

  “Why not?” He leaned back, stretching his arms out on the back of the sofa.

  “Because everyone is going to think we’re in bed together.”

  “And we will be.”

  Evelyn sighed in frustration. “You know what I mean. They’ll think that I kill stories because you ask me to, or hide information that my police lieutenant boyfriend doesn’t want in the paper.”

  He was silent for a few moments before he said, “It’s better than hiding it. Then they’ll really think we’re doing something underhanded.”

  She hated to admit that he was right. “This could get complicated,” she said.

  “Yeah, probably. But it’ll be a hella of lot of fun.” He ran his hand over his crotch. “Speaking of which, get your little ass over here.”

  Now he was talking. Evelyn put down the paper and pad and hurried toward him. She settled herself between his outstretched legs. He cupped his crotch.

  “You want my dick?”

  “Yes, Sir Logan.”

  “Ask for it.”

  She needed to keep control of herself, or she’d end up looking like an idiot. Evelyn took a deep breath.

  “May I have your dick, Sir?”

  He grunted. “That was pathetic. Try again, tell me what you want to do with it and be specific.”

  The man staring at her was one she didn’t recognize. His look was dark, controlling. She loved it.

  “Sir Logan”—she took a deep breath and dared to look him in the eye—“I want to suck you. I want to feel your cock in my mouth, pulsing as I work to pull your seed down my throat. I want to feel your hands in my hair as I lick your balls. I want you to grab it, pull it, and demand that I take as much of you as I can, and then take more until I feel like I can’t breathe. I just…want you.”

  The little bud between her legs pulsed with need.

  “It’s been way too long for you, Inky.”

  “Yes, Sir Logan.” Tears burned the back of her eyes. She wasn’t sure she was ready for this, but she was going to plunge in anyway. “May I have you, Sir? Please?”

  “Excellent.” He moved his hand. “Undo my jeans.”

  Evelyn was happy to see there was no zipper. The buttons were easy to maneuver, and she soon had his fly open.

  “Take me out, carefully.”

  Evelyn inched his jeans down a little, just enough for Logan’s dick to pop free. He was the perfect size, not too long and not too short, and just thick enough that she knew he would fill her in all the right places.

  She lowered her head to take him into her mouth, crying out when he grabbed her hair.

  “Do you have permission for that?”

  “But you said…” She started to say he’d said to suck, but realized he hadn’t. He’d said excellent, and that was all. She needed to listen more carefully in the future. He let go of her hair, and the dark look from earlier was even darker.

  “Ask if you can take me in your mouth.”

  She did as he asked, word for word, adding Sir Logan at the end. His answer was like a kick in the stomach.

  “No.” He glared down at her. “You may lick, but nothing else. In the future, you’ll remember to ask for permission before you start anything like that. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Sir Logan.” Evelyn wanted to scream in delight. This was what she’d wanted with Carl, what they had in the beginning. He’d ordered her to follow his directions, told her what she could and couldn’t do. But it had all gone to hell so quickly. She hoped that didn’t happen with Logan.

  She licked him greedily, savoring the male taste of him. She ran her tongue up and down his shaft, bathing him with her tongue. From time to time, she played with his slit, the salty flavor giving her a preview of her reward in the end.

  This was so wicked, so wonderful, but she wanted more.

  “May I suck, please?”

  “You may not.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re being a whiney little baby,” Logan said, sounding as if he were talking to a spoiled brat. “Show me how much you want it. Scoot away from me, put your hands behind your back, and hang your head until I give you permission to look at my dick again.”

  Evelyn scrambled to do as he said. Her body hummed with need, but she kept her gaze down, her hands clasped behind her back. She couldn’t hear him moving, so she didn’t think he was playing with his dick.

  “I like the way you obey, Inky.”

  “Thank you, Sir Logan.”

  “You’re a true submissive.”

  Evelyn wasn’t sure what the proper response was, so she kept her mouth shut.

  “You can come back to me now and take me in your mouth. You can even use your hands if you like. Blow me until I come and swallow as much as you can.”

  “Yes, Sir Logan.” Evelyn made quick work of his instructions. She took his hard length into her mouth, sucking him as deeply as she could, holding him there until she thought her lungs would burst. Then she let him go, sucked in several deep breaths, and did it all over again.

  After two rounds of it, she decided to change things up, so she used one hand as an extension, rotating it ever so slowly as she sucked the top half of his prick. With her other hand she gently massaged his balls; from time to time she lightly ran her finger up and down the ridge.

  All the while she listened to his breathing, knowing it would tell her when he was close to the edge. It didn’t take long before his shallow, labored breathing told her what she wanted to know.

  She tightened the grip on his shaft and tongued his slit. When she felt his dick pulse in her hand, she closed her mouth partway down his shaft and savored the salty taste of his cum as it hit the back of her mouth.

  Evelyn couldn’t take as much as she wanted, though, and some of it hit her chin as she moved her mouth and coughed. A few jets splattered on his jeans.

  The whole time, Logan stroked her hair and murmured what a good slut she was, even as she apologized for spoiling his jeans. It made her already aroused body shoot into overdrive.

  “Damn, Inky, you and I have wasted a lo
t of time,” he said afterward.

  “I don’t get to come tonight, do I?” she said, her gaze on his now flaccid cock.

  “Do you know why?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “Next time I’ll ask before I try to take you in my mouth.”

  “What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is mine,” he said. He stroked her hair again. “Go and get a warm towel to clean me up. When I’m gone, you wash up and go to bed. In the morning, call the plumbers to finish the bathroom downstairs.”

  “Yes, Sir Logan.”

  Damn, she had missed this, the feel of a man’s hands on her body, and the orders and demands. She’d never fought the fact she was submissive. In fact, she’d always savored her desires. Hopefully she’d found someone to play with on a regular basis, who wouldn’t turn out to be a jerk. After she’d cleaned him up, she sat down on the floor at his feet. He stroked her hair for a few moments.

  “Tomorrow,” he finally said, “I want you to make a list of items you think need to be in a dungeon, things you think we’ll enjoy using. I’ll come by soon, and we’ll go over it.”

  “Yes, Sir.” When he stood, she wanted to cry out for him to stay.

  “Don’t forget to hide the machine before you let the plumbers into the basement,” he said mischievously. “That would really give them something to talk about at the coffee shop.”

  Chapter Three

  Evelyn slept fitfully. It was hard to obey Logan’s command that she couldn’t climax, but she was determined to be good. But being aroused and denied, meant it was hard to get to sleep. By the time she did finally doze off, she was dreaming about him whipping her ass with a riding crop until she begged for mercy.

  After she got up, showered, and called the plumber to tell him she was coming by his shop, she was almost a half hour late leaving the house. Then she’d had to go back to the house to hide the fucking machine, which she’d left out in plain sight. Once in town, she’d gone by Sparky’s to give them a key to the house. They’d discussed what she wanted—a big shower in the corner that she’d once reserved for a hot tub.

  When she’d told Sparky the job was for Logan Hendricks, he’d grinned from ear to ear. She knew that, before she got to the office, half the town would know she and the police lieutenant were, as some of them would put it, doing the mattress mambo.

  She stopped at the coffee shop, going through the drive-through so she didn’t have to face the customers inside. When she had drinks for herself and Marsha, she hurried to the office.

  Once inside she put a cup on Marsha’s desk before she crossed to her own. She sat down and muttered a greeting. When she didn’t get one in return, she looked at Marsha.

  “What?” Evelyn said.

  “I have to hear from my neighbor that you’re screwing Logan Hendricks?” Marsha lifted her hands in the air. “I thought we were friends.”

  “Are you kidding me? That was fast, even for Sparky.”

  “Sparky?” Marsha shook her head. “I heard it from Tyler Watson and his wife. He was driving to the lake last night when he saw Logan’s car turn onto your road, and it’s called your road because it’s the only house up that way. He called his wife to report the gossip. Tyler later reported to his wife that, when he came back in town, Logan’s truck wasn’t in his driveway. We all know he parks his motorcycles in his garage. Everyone assumes he spent the night at your house. Why did I have to hear it through the grapevine?”

  Right now, Evelyn longed for the anonymity of Denver, where you could live next to someone and not know their name. Here in the town of twenty thousand people, everyone knew everyone, and everyone’s business too.

  “I can’t believe you’re gossiping about me,” Evelyn countered.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Marsha repeated.

  They stared at each other. It was Marsha who finally broke the silence. “Is he good?”

  “I’m not going to answer that,” she retorted.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Marsha grinned at her. “You going to see him again?”

  That was a safe question. “Yes,” she said, remembering to tell the truth. Now that she’d decided to grab the bull by the horns, it was either go for the gold or go home.

  “Then he’s good,” Marsha said with a laugh.

  “We didn’t have sex,” Evelyn said, a little too loudly. She didn’t add, not in the traditional sense. She was stopped from saying anything further when the door opened, and the man in question came in. Instead of coffee he had a bag in his hands, and Evelyn knew it would contain sugary treats from the coffee shop.

  “They said you already had caffeine,” he said as he sat down in the chair near her desk. He looked over at Marsha. “Morning, Mrs. St. James. Doughnut?”

  “Good morning, Logan.” She intertwined her fingers and leaned on her desk. “Evelyn was just telling me that the two of you haven’t have sex yet. Can you confirm that?”

  “Marsha!” Evelyn glared at her friend. “You’re this close to getting fired.”

  “Oh bull.” Marsha laughed. “I’m the only reporter you have, besides the lousy sports editor who is never around, and you can’t do it all yourself. I’m just trying to get the facts. Is it true, Logan?”

  “Yes, she’s telling the truth,” he said, “but it’s early days yet.”

  “I’ll check back in a few days for an update,” Marsha said as Evelyn lowered her head to the desk. “In the meantime, I’m going to do the police report and see if there’s anything new on the break-in at the mayor’s house. Is there, Logan?”

  “Nope,” he said, “but you should get that from the captain. He wants to be on top of this.”

  “That will give you time to stay on top of other matters,” Marsha said with a laugh as she headed toward the door.

  “That’s not funny!” Evelyn yelled as the reporter banged out the door.

  She glared at Logan. His shoulders shook with laughter. “She’s a sharp one,” he said.

  “You realize this is just the start of it?”

  “Yes.” He opened the bag and took out a chocolate doughnut. “Dinner and a movie tonight.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Dinner at The Shack and then a movie. We need to prove to them we have nothing to hide.” He took a bite of his doughnut. After he’d swallowed, he said, “Sparky called, and I told him what I wanted. He said he could replace your tub with a soaker. With any luck they’ll be done in a week, since they had everything in stock, and most of the work has already been done. Then we can get down to brass tacks on what we really want down there.”

  Evelyn sat back in her chair. “Tell me, how did you explain it to him? Did you say, ‘we want a place to play sex games?’”

  “I told him you were putting in a spare room, and you wanted a nice bathroom for your guests. It’s plausible.” He leaned closer. “I didn’t tell him I was going to tie you up and whip your ass. That means your reputation is safe. Although I did ask him to make sure the soaker tub fit two people.”

  “Great.” Evelyn couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t a child, after all. She was a thirty-three-year-old woman who could do what she wanted. She was pretty sure that every preacher in town would be around to visit, though, telling her about her sins.

  “I’ll pick you up at six,” he said as he stood. “We can eat and work on our list. You do remember you have to make a list for me?”

  “Yes, Logan, I remember.”

  “Good.” For a moment, Evelyn thought he would lean over and kiss her. But he didn’t. He stood and walked toward the door, leaving behind the bag of doughnuts. “See you tonight, Inky.”

  Evelyn didn’t turn around, or return any sort of confirmation that she’d heard him. She was too busy glaring at the two pressmen, who stood in the doorway to the back of the building, grinning at her.

  “Get back to work on those inserts,” she yelled at them. They were smiling as they slipped behind the door.

  It was going to be a long day.
<
br />   * * * *

  As she’d expected, people gave her knowing looks during the day. Some tried, not very well, to ask in a roundabout manner about her love life. When one of the older ladies at the garden-club luncheon flat-out asked if she was seeing “that nice policeman,” Evelyn was tempted to say, He has a nice dick, but sometimes it doesn’t make up for his frustrating personality. Have you ever been in that situation?

  Instead, she’d smiled and used his words from that morning, “We’re in the early stages, yes.”

  But after lunch was when things really got fuzzy for her. She was scheduled to cover the city council meeting and instead of taking notes, on whether or not the city would approve a hike in the water rates, she’d found herself concentrating on the list Logan had insisted she write.

  What exactly would he want in a dungeon? She thought about the things he’d asked her about the night before. Rope, clamps, suspension kit, and a spreader bar. She’d never played with the last two items, and she wasn’t sure she really wanted to. The spreader bar might be fun, but she was pretty sure she was too big for a suspension kit.

  By the time she realized the mayor was calling her name, she had listed the items Logan had talked about last night, except the suspension kit, and she’d added a flogger, handcuffs, and a feather. She loved being tied up and tickled with a feather.

  “Evie,” the mayor said again, his voice louder.

  She looked up from her pad. “Yes, sir?” She hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt right now.

  “I asked if you’d received any letters from readers about the rate hike.”

  “A few,” she responded. “They’ll be in Friday’s paper.” It was hard to only put out a weekly paper, but with the economy the way it was, and people getting a lot of their news online, sales of the actual physical product had diminished.

  “For or against?” the mayor pushed.

  “Against, of course.” She shrugged. “Nobody wants to see their bills go up, Charlie.”

  “It’s just a few pennies,” Councilwoman Nancy Grimes said.

  “It all adds up when it’s a few pennies on each bill,” Evelyn responded. “But I’ll let you read about it Friday.”