No. In this position, he’d be flogging my pussy, and perhaps my breasts. My inner thighs. Everything clenched on that last thought.
If I’m desperately in need of an orgasm and don’t have the time to pay someone, I can always get one by reading the section in the Story of O where Anne-Marie has Colette flog O’s inner thighs. So brutal. So cold. And yet, when it’s over, O notes that during torture she’d do anything to make it stop, but she’s only happy afterwards if it was especially cruel and prolonged.
He made a point of breathing deep. “You want this. Feels like you’re close to an orgasm before I even start.”
“You gonna talk about it or actually fucking do something?” Okay, so taunting him probably wasn’t my best move, but damn, I was tired of hanging upside down with nothing happening. The sooner he started, the sooner he’d finish, and my shoulders were already going from uncomfortable to painful.
The first strike was directly to my pussy, and I sucked air in but didn’t scream. The second strike was in exactly the same place, and heat collected around the impact.
A few dozen blows to my inner thighs while he swung the flogger in a fast figure eight, and I was screaming and thrashing long before he decided I needed a break.
A soft caress over the heated skin of my inner thighs. His hand felt cool, his fingers gentle.
“You mark up pretty.” His hand spread my pussy lips. A single finger sank inside. My breath caught. My inner muscles squeezed and jerked. Damn, I was close to an orgasm.
“I won’t fuck you here until you’ve fully submitted, by the way.” He leaned down, his face inches from mine. “You’ve fucked kitties before. Ever been fucked by a bobcat?”
I shook my head. I’d dated a tiger in college, and there’s an asshole tiger in Chattanooga who’s good for a fun time when I’m there, but I hadn’t been with a bobcat.
“Unlike most cat species, who only have barbs when they’re fucking another cat, I can produce mine anytime I want.” He stood so his cock was in front of me, and the next thing I knew, the barbs were there. Tiny little angled barbs that resembled cat claws, and more of them than it was possible to count. My heart slowed in my chest and then raced faster, beating against my rib cage.
Five seconds later, they sank back into non-existence.
I’ll never be able to explain the terror and naked desire of wanting and not-wanting the same thing at the same damned time. He’d rip me up inside with those barbs, and yet, I desperately wanted him to do just that.
His devilish chuckle told me just how badly my scent had betrayed me. “Not today, counselor. Here’s the deal. If you can orgasm while I flog your cunt, then you can have my dick up your ass again, and I’ll make sure you get lots more orgasms. If you can’t, I’ll put a Jennings gag in your mouth and fuck your throat while you wear some nasty nipple clamps.”
“Which outcome are you hoping for?”
He went to his knees again, so we were once again face-to-face. Even on his knees, he was alpha. Not the belligerent kind of alpha male that gets on my nerves, but the kind I respect. A bad-ass with a heart. He doesn’t have to prove he’s dominant because everyone fucking knows it.
“If you’re asking whether I’d prefer your ass or throat, then as of now, I have no preference. If you’re asking how I want our relationship to progress? Either still works for me. Eventually, you’ll orgasm while I flog you. If you can do it today, great. If you can’t? It’ll be a challenge I can work up to, should you decide this arrangement is working for you. Part of me hopes you can pull the orgasm off, part of me will delight in teaching you if you either can’t or choose not to.” He stroked my cheek. “How’re the shoulders holding up?”
I shook my head and clenched my jaw. I didn’t want to admit they hurt.
“Because if they’re fine, I can always add some weights to the cuffs.”
Fuck. “They hurt, and you can wipe that fucking smirk off your damned face.”
“I believe you meant to say, ‘They hurt, Sir’.”
I didn’t say anything, and he stood. “For the record, and for future reference, if you’d asked nicely, I’d have rearranged them to relieve the pain. You admitted they hurt, so you won’t get added weights, but you aren’t going to get any relief.”
I have no use for Doms who make up the rules as they go along, but that wasn’t what he was doing. Basic rules of the lifestyle say you’re supposed to be respectful, and I hadn’t been. He was being more than reasonable, considering my attitude.
I wasn’t ready to acquiesce quite yet, but I could give him a tiny bit.
“Noted, Sir.”
Deft fingers stroked all around my clit. He didn’t say it, but it felt like a reward.
And then he stepped back and let the flogger fly.
Bobcat
Surprisingly, her scent told me she was holding back on her orgasm because she didn’t want the flogging to end. Perhaps next time I’d order three orgasms before the flogging stopped. I whipped her pussy and inner thighs until she was beyond spent. A limp rag, fighting to keep her arms at her back so her shoulders didn’t hurt. Instead of pushing something under her so I could let the chain down, I lifted her and held her in my left arm, cradled against me while I released her from the ceiling chain with my right hand. Her legs were still held wide apart and her hands were still bound behind her back, but she was in my arms and no longer hanging upside down. I walked her to the bondage table and settled her on knees and chest.
It didn’t feel as if she was totally ready to submit just yet, so I secured the ankle cuffs to the outside of the table before I removed the spreader bar.
Finally, I stretched a strap over the small of her back but under her still-bound arms, bowing her spine down at a sharp arch to put her ass at the angle I wanted. This would also keep her from raising her upper body and attempting to fight me off once I got started.
This time, I used coconut oil on my cock. I much prefer it to commercial lube, but the packets are easier to manage in a crunch.
I’d whipped her asshole enough, it was fiery hot and so fucking tight I had to push damned hard to get in. Her screams and moans went straight to my balls, and my cock was harder than fucking granite.
It turns out, I only needed to threaten to put a clamp on her bruised and swollen clit to bring on an orgasm, and fuck, but her turbulent release nearly set me off, but I held on. Seven orgasms later, when I reached around to massage the battered little bundle of nerves, she exclaimed it was too much, and yet, when I ordered her to come, she popped off like an entire package of firecrackers.
And like an overfilled dam bursting, I finally came with her. It felt like my toenails came out through my balls, I came so fucking hard.
Bobcat
Completely spent, I released Tess’s left wrist and ankle, and crawled up on the table to lie with her. I needed the contact. The connection. I settled her on top of me, her head on my chest, her body draped over mine.
She snuggled into my arms and I held her. The cat wasn’t disturbed about having a mongoose in our arms. She belonged here.
“Fuck me.” She said it so low, I wasn’t even sure she intended me to hear it.
“Already did that. Not sure I can again, and that’s saying something.”
She chuckled. “Damn cat.”
“You aren’t the first to call me that.”
Neither of us talked again for at least twenty minutes. I just wanted to bathe in her aura, with her in my arms. I didn’t want to lose the connection, but it was going to have to be done.
“We have a few options. I can give you some sweatpants and a t-shirt to go home in, or I can put some on and get your clothes from your car.”
“If you have small or preferably extra small, I’ll take the sweats and tee so we can leave together.”
I rolled out from under her and off the table, and landed on my feet. I wanted nothing more than to crawl back onto it and hold her again, but it was time for us to part. Cuddling too long was
n’t in my nature and probably wasn’t in hers.
Cell phones don’t work on the dungeon level, so I used the house phone to call the spa and ask for someone to bring two pairs of emergency clothes, preferably black, but whatever was available. She noted the sizes and told me someone would bring them. Ten minutes later, a prospect showed up with them in a bag. He breathed in, looked like he had something to say, but decided against it.
“Thanks.” His expression told me he understood I was thanking him for not saying anything, and not so much for bringing the clothes. He seemed to be fitting in nicely, so far.
“Room isn’t reserved for another two-ish hours,” he said. “You have some time still if you need it.”
I nodded and closed the door.
I put the clothes on the table beside Tess, finally released her right-side cuffs, and went to the cabinet with the cleaning supplies. It didn’t take long to wipe down the equipment we’d used. I hadn’t used any of the room’s toys or tools, so I didn’t need to run the dishwasher.
She took her cuffs off, but I didn’t say anything. The scene was finished so it was technically okay, but if I put them on, I want to be the one to take them off. We could talk about that later, though. I put the cuffs away and then settled the cleaning stuff near the bondage table, since I’d need to clean it when we were up and dressed.
“I figured you’d have people who cleaned the rooms for you.”
I shrugged. “I could get someone to, but no need in messing with the rhythm of the spa when I can take care of it in a few minutes while I’m here. Plus, I know what we used, so I only have to clean those areas. Someone else would have to wipe everything down.”
She sat up and swung her legs on the side, completely comfortable in her nudity. “You aren’t what I expected.”
I couldn’t help my smile. “Neither are you. Based on how things were once we got started, I’m assuming the fight won’t have to happen every time?”
She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Probably not, but maybe. She needed you to show you can best us, and she should be more amenable in the future, but you never really know with her.”
“Good to know.” I walked to her and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m looking forward to our next time. If I need to reserve time in a room here, I can, but I’d be open to a less gymnastic form of fun in my apartment.”
She ran her finger down the center of my chin. “Maybe. I’m still processing whatever-the-fuck just happened.”
I kissed her forehead and stepped away. “I can relate.” We’d formed an emotional connection, which isn’t unusual for rough kink, but I wasn’t sure what to do with it. This was just us having fun. Temporary while I was in town.
We dressed, I cleaned the bondage table and put the supplies away, and then I drove us back to the main spa building and parked the golf cart. Walking her to her car seemed a little over-the-top for a fuck-buddy, so I told her, “I assume you know the way? I’m going to check in with Clean and see if they need help.”
“I do. Thanks for a nice time. We’ll talk in a few days.”
I nodded, and she walked away. Her voice echoed in my head. A few days. She didn’t expect a phone call the next day.
Mr. Clean was in the office, sitting at his desk, and I went in and plopped into one of his visitor chairs.
“Damn.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. The single word seemed to sum everything up.
He chuckled. “Mad Dog said you told him beforehand, so you’re good, but fuckin’ A, you got balls.”
I didn’t want to talk about it in any kind of detail, so I changed the subject. “I looked up the area Kitty lives. She makes good money — why’s she living in a motherfuckin’ war zone?”
“No idea. She’s new-ish and has only been with us a few weeks. Maybe she can’t get out of her lease?”
I nodded. “I’m gonna stop by and check on her. See what’s what. Offer to move her to the front of the waiting list at our place if she’s interested.” I went to put my hands in my jeans and remembered I was wearing sweats. My jeans were actually fine, but my shirt had been ripped, and it’d seemed easiest to order two full sets of clothes. “I cleaned the room. You can mark it as ready for action. You need anything else from me?”
“Nah. I’m good. See you later.”
Chapter Eleven
Bobcat
Kitty’s apartment complex still looked like a war zone. Considering the area was just as dangerous now as it’d ever been, I wasn’t surprised. Some of the buildings weren’t habitable. Hers was intact, but walls had been patched to fill in bullet holes. I looked around and saw lots of tiny points of light glowing in the late evening twilight. Some residents hadn’t bothered patching the bullet holes.
I texted her from my bike. I’m outside your apartment. Come out and talk to me, please.
I was still on my bike when she opened her door and motioned me in, but I shook my head and motioned her to me. No way in hell was I leaving my bike alone in this neighborhood.
She closed the door and texted, I need to put jeans on.
When she finally came out, I told her. “You make too much fuckin’ money to be livin’ in this hellhole. What the fuck?” I waited for her to get close, and I spoke low. No one needed to know she made good money.
“Not talking ’bout it in the parkin’ lot.”
I sighed. “Climb on. Won’t go out on the main road — there’s a grassy area where we can sit and talk. Not leaving my bike alone here.”
She glared at me, but climbed on behind me. I went slow around the buildings and pulled off beside a field that was more dirt and weeds than grass, but it’d do.
She walked into the field and stretched, her tiger clearly happy with the wide-open space. I took my helmet off and joined her. “Talk to me, Kitty. Why are you livin’ here? You make good money.”
“For now, but I don’t know how long it’ll last. I won’t move into somewhere more expensive until I have at least eight months living expenses in savings.”
Which was the responsible thing to do, but it wouldn’t do her any good if she got killed while waiting for her savings account to grow.
I told her how much we charged for a one bedroom and a studio, and told her we could move her to the front of the waiting list if she wanted to be safe, but she shook her head. “Maybe later. I’m okay here. My car’s a piece of shit no one wants to steal, and I don’t have anything of value in my apartment. No one messes with me when I come home at four thirty in the morning. I think most everyone’s gone to bed by then. Sometimes things are iffy when I come home at two-thirty, but I stare them down and they leave me alone. The tiger kind of wants to eat them. I think humans sense it, sometimes.”
“The smart ones do, but the stupid ones want to play idiot alpha games. You work for us. That means you’re one of ours. It’s a business arrangement, but the connection’s there and we take care of our own. You need help, you let us know. Understood?”
She nodded, and I continued. “Did you see the murder?”
“No. It happened while I was at work. I should be clear.”
“LEO might use it as an excuse to look at you harder. If you get taken in, you don’t say a word without Tess or one of her associates telling you what you can and can’t say. This isn’t negotiable. There are going to be changes to how often ya’ll can go next door. We’ll be letting you supplement your income by workin’ at our spa on weekdays if you want, but it won’t be required.”
“That’s a bitch.”
“I know, but until we figure out how the new DA plans to make a name for herself, we need to play it a little safe. You’ll get a text in a little while, telling you to show up at two-thirty on Tuesday for a required meeting.”
I got her home, saw her inside, and left. I hated that she lived here, but it was her choice. It’d been a crap apartment before the rioting, and now it was barely habitable.
I took the long way back to the MC’s apartment complex and enjoyed the bea
utiful evening. Cold, but pretty.
I needed to let the cat out for a while, but I wasn’t comfortable doing that here. Not yet. I’d go home in a few weeks and let him out for a night and a day.
I hit the workout room first, and it felt good to work my muscles to exhaustion. I beat the hell out of the heavy bag when I finished pumping iron, and then I showered, slid into the standard biker uniform of jeans, tee, and cut, and made my way out to handle my patrol duty.
While I walked the property, I helped a few people into their apartments when they seemed like they could use the help. The mom with toddler twins and groceries seemed like she had everything under control, but I grabbed bags of groceries and walked them into her kitchen anyway, and she seemed to appreciate the help. An elderly lady was adamant she didn’t need help, but still thanked me when I grabbed the heaviest bags. Nothing smelled out of place in those apartments, but when a twenty-something blonde was adamant that she had it under control and didn’t need help, her scent was all wrong.
Instead of further traumatizing her by insisting she let me help her, I backed off and walked away. We all wear microphones and earpieces on patrol, and I engaged the mic to talk to the control room.
“Control. Something’s up with D137. More than fear. Edging towards terror. What do we know about her?”
McGyver’s voice came across, and my spirits rose. I’d missed hearing him on the other end of my comms.
“Nothing that pops in the notes. She works for the hospital. Lab tech, from the looks of it. No arrests. Decent credit. Lives alone, but she has a boyfriend who’s over quite a bit.”
“We need to figure out what’s wrong. Can you let Mad Dog know?” Velvet likely knew more than Mad Dog, but this wasn’t an emergency so it was best to let Mad Dog ask her.
“Copy that.”
“It’s good to hear your voice. Barbecue’s on me the first chance we get. Or hell, I could spring for steaks.”
Bobcat (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 2) Page 8