"The living room is off to the right. Jacob is putting together some finger foods; he's likely still in the kitchen but should join us shortly."
She walked into the living room and had to do a slow circle to take it in. Whoever had designed the room was a genius with fabric. There were acres and acres of drapery, made up of at least a dozen patterns and solids in four or five color families. It shouldn't have worked, but it was stunning. The sofas, pillows, and throw rug worked beautifully with it, in a way she would've never had the nerve to attempt. She was about to comment on it when she looked up to see a Norse god bringing in a platter of canapes, sitting them on a side-table with a few other plates and platters. He placed it, picked it up, thought about it, and rearranged the grouping before placing it again. When he was satisfied, he turned and looked at her, his face animating into a stunning smile.
"You must be Dana. You're as lovely as Brent said. He was so happy after the two of you spoke the other night."
"And you have to be Jacob. You and Brent have a beautiful home, and something smells wonderful."
"Oh, it's just finger foods. What would you like to drink?"
His voice sounded strained, and his smile affected, and she wasn't sure what to think. “Water would be great. I'm going to admire the window treatments—I may even ask permission to photograph them. They're stunning, and I feel the need to break it all down, figure out why it works."
Jacob's smile changed, and his eyes seemed to peer inside of her. It made her uncomfortable and she turned away, facing the windows. “The floor rug is what anchors it, I think, and whoever did it was smart to recess the ceiling in the center—it gives more space, and draws the eyes in. Still, all of the rules say these colors and patterns shouldn't work, and they're beautiful."
She pivoted back to him and saw a completely different man—the harsh edges softened, making him change from gorgeous to mouth-watering sexy.
"Thanks,” he said, his voice gentle, no longer formal. “I spent weeks working on them between other jobs. Brent was ready to string me up by my balls when I finally finished."
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You did this? It's brilliant! Do you have sketches of how it all fits together? Could I see them?"
Brent chuckled. “I'll get the drinks while you talk to Dana about curtains."
He looked at Brent, his submission showing clearly in his eyes. “I'm sorry, and thank you."
As Dana watched her friend nod and walk out, she had the feeling she'd just missed something, but wasn't sure it was any of her business.
Jacob turned back to her. “You've had a long drive, so let's eat before we look at the plans. The plates are to the right of the side table, please help yourself."
When Brent returned with their drinks, she was sitting on the sofa, biting into an exquisitely stuffed mushroom, and he placed her glass in front of her and put the other two on the table beside Jacob before fixing his plate. Jacob stood as Brent walked towards him, waiting until he was seated before gracefully sinking to the floor at his feet, leaning against the chair and sideways on his Master's leg.
Brent casually ran his fingers through Jacob's hair as he said, “I trust the two of you have exhausted the curtain conversation?"
She was in awe of how beautiful they were, sitting so naturally, and she didn't answer right away. Jacob answered for her with, “She wants to see my sketches, but I told her we should eat first."
His voice jolted her back to the conversation. “Yes, I'd love to see how it's all put together; get an idea of how he came up with it. Jacob, did you make the food? It's wonderful."
He shook his head. “Brent picked most of it up from a caterer he uses on sets; the only thing I can take credit for is the presentation."
The small talk continued, and Dana liked Jacob a great deal. When standing, he was only a few inches shorter than Brent, though he was probably fifty pounds lighter, at least. Brent was built like a tank, while Jacob had the streamlined body of a swimmer. Jacob's muscles were well defined, but slim and wiry as opposed to large and bulky. Brent's short dark hair contrasted with Jacob's stylishly disheveled blond hair, and Brent's deep voice with Jacob's normal one. Brent was in worn jeans and a navy tee, while Jacob was in dressy khaki's and a short sleeve mock turtle in a luxurious fabric that made her want to run her fingers over the well-defined abs she could see under it—to see what the fabric was, of course.
She remembered Brent had always expressed disdain for those he termed twinks, and Jacob's physique, personality, and confidence kept him out of that category—but he was the artistic type. She was a little uncomfortable with the attraction she was feeling for him, and tried to set it aside.
As they were finishing their food, Brent suggested Jacob load the sketches from his computer onto his tablet so he could bring them into the living room. When he'd gone, Brent moved to the sofa, sitting sideways beside her and pulling her into his arms again.
"My dear, I can't imagine what you've been through since we last saw each other. You remind me of the phoenix who's survived the fire to be reborn. It's still you, but you're different. I'm so sorry for your loss, but thankful you've made it through the grieving process in one piece."
Her eyes threatened to tear up as she said, “Thank you, but please don't make me cry. I really like Jacob, the two of you fit together so well. I'm happy for you."
He released her, letting her pull away, but keeping her hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Thank you. He seems to like you, too—which isn't always the case. I've spent years bitching and moaning about the artistic types I'm forced to work with, and I find myself in a relationship with one.” His eyes twinkled and he said, “Luckily, I'm in control, so if he gets on my nerves with it I can order silence."
She laughed. “I know you well enough to be fairly certain you don't abuse your power too often. You love him. I can see it in the way you talk about him, look at him, run your fingers through his hair. He looks so at ease at your feet, you're beautiful together."
"It's not an abuse of power if he wants me to silence him when he annoys me. And yes, I do love him, very much. I should probably explain we don't use Sir or Master; he uses my name as an honorific. We work together occasionally and neither of us wants him to screw up and call me Master when I tell him to modify a costume."
"I can see how that might be easy to do.” She heard Jacob's footsteps and Brent stood. “I'll put the food away while he shows you the sketches."
Jacob sat where Brent had been, and Dana felt a flutter she stubbornly ignored as their legs touched. He put the tablet in her lap and let her scroll back and forth through his sketches and the two became engrossed in the details, finishing each other's sentences, completing thoughts when one person stuttered through explaining a concept. Brent came back in while they were head to head, leaned over the tablet deep in discussion about textures and colors and patterns and the various ways of layering them. He sat and listened; not interrupting until they'd finished talking of fabrics and were transitioning to another conversation.
Brent stood and walked, stopping in front of them. Jacob's voice trailed off mid-sentence and he raised his face to Brent's, patiently awaiting instructions.
"You like her, don't you."
Jacob answered with no embarrassment, no hesitation. “Yes, Brent. I do."
"Take your tablet to your office and remain there until instructed otherwise."
Standing and saying a simple, “Yes, Brent,” he walked out of the room.
"Why did you send him away? I thought you wanted us to—"
Brent interrupted. “Are you sure you don't want to experiment around with Topping?"
Dana started to say she wasn't a Top, but realized what he was offering. “You want me to Top Jacob? Why?"
"I told you, he's bisexual, and I occasionally permit him time with a Domme. If you're interested, we can take him into the playroom and you can have your way with him. I only have a few rules—he'll need a condom for intercourse, and
I'm the only one who can give him permission to come. His only orgasms are by my hand, which means he won't be allowed to come while you're fucking him. He has excellent control, you can ride him, or order him to fuck you, and he can go pretty much forever."
Her insides ignited at the possibilities, and suddenly, the idea of Topping didn't sound so bad. But, could she do it?
"What would I need to do? I have no idea how to even begin."
"I can walk you through the beginning. He's wearing a plug now, we can take it out and replace it with one that vibrates, and give you the remote. I'll show you a little about spanking, let you use a paddle on him if you'd like, and you can have him service you however you want. If you put nipple clamps on him, you can tug them for negative reinforcement when he's not pleasing you, and use the remote as positive reinforcement when he is. That should keep it simple enough. Are you interested?"
"I don't know. It sounds... intriguing. Are you sure it's okay? It won't make things weird?"
"If I thought it might, I wouldn't suggest it. I feel strongly that you need to experience the view from the Top at least once. If you'll be playing around in the lifestyle, your safety will depend on being able to weed the good Doms from the dangerous ones. To do that, you need more perspective.” He smiled. “And Jacob likes you, it's a perfect solution."
"What if I get halfway through and can't do it?"
"Then I'll step in and order him to pleasure you."
"Won't it be weird for you? I mean, hetero sex isn't your thing, do you—"
He interrupted her. “I love Jacob, seeing him enjoy himself is my thing—even if it's with a girl. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine. When the two of you finish I'll be fucking him. You're welcome to stay and watch, or you can leave.” He thought a second and added, “Or, if you'd like to join us, let me know and I'll find a way to include you."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Fifteen
* * * *
Dana stepped into the playroom and saw Jacob's ass in the air, his body bent over a spanking horse. She'd retrieved her overnight bag and taken a quick shower before donning the simple wrap around dress she'd brought to wear to the club—skipping panties and bra.
Brent had removed his t-shirt, keeping the faded and worn jeans that fit his oh-so-fine ass like a comfy glove. His back was to her as he fondled Jacob's cock with what looked more like agonizing torture than fulfilling pleasure.
He swiveled his head as she stepped closer to them, smiling. “Ah, there's your lovely Mistress for the afternoon. Let's give your ass a go with the leather paddle, shall we?” Brent watched her as he spoke, and Dana realized he was evaluating her reactions. He was fully in Dom mode, and even though he wasn't technically dominating her, he'd be calling the shots on what she could and couldn't do with his partner. His submissive.
Brent walked to her, picking up a paddle and offering it handle end first. “Here you go, dear. I don't believe you need to worry about a warm up."
Dana's hands gripped the leather as she nodded and moved to Jacob, caressing his ass a few seconds before stepping in front of him and bending down so they were face to face.
"What's your safeword, Jacob?"
"Chiffon."
"Do you want pain or pleasure?"
"I want to give you pleasure. I can't wait to see you get all Toppy—I think it'll be good for you.” He smiled. “And hot. Scorchingly hot. Go ahead Ma'am, give me whatever pain you want to dish out. I'll survive, and I'm looking forward to seeing you get into it."
She kissed him on the forehead and walked around, beginning to understanding how Doms could get off on the power. She'd seen the plug in his ass when she walked in, and she reached down and jiggled it, watching him squirm as she felt the vibrations in her fingertips.
She looked at Brent. “There's a remote?"
He nodded and handed it to her, saying, “It's on the lowest setting."
She switched it off and slid it over her belt. “Thanks. Any instructions with this?” she asked, holding the paddle up. “I assume ass and the backs of the thighs are both fine?"
He smiled, nodding. “Masochists give out the best pain; you know from experience what hurts."
Dana examined the paddle, the business end consisted of a couple of layers of thick leather bonded together, and the edges were well worn so she wouldn't have to worry about cutting him. It would pack a wallop, and would sting as well, but shouldn't create as much damage as wood. She inwardly thanked Brent for picking the perfect implement, as there was no risk of damaging him with this as long as she stuck to ass and thighs. Brent had told her he'd flash fingers at her, to help her gauge her strength. She should aim for a five—if he flashed higher, she should back off, lower meant hit harder.
Wanting to get Jacob's attention right off the bat, and knowing how disappointed she'd be if someone just tapped her ass instead of paddling her, she gave him five hard smacks to the back of his left thigh with only a two second pause between—every strike fanning the fire inside of her, turning it into a roaring blaze.
Brent was standing so Jacob couldn't see him, and flashed four fingers. She stepped forward and gave five slightly harder strikes on the back of his right thigh. She heard gasps for the last three, and when she finished he was struggling to control his breathing. Brent flashed another four.
She put the remote back on low a few seconds before slowly ramping to the highest setting, leaving it there as she repeated the five strikes on each thigh exactly as before, and turning it off when she stopped. She looked at Brent and he flashed a four again, and she gave him a lopsided grin. She wanted to reach down and rub across her clit, the power was getting to her, and Jacob's noises made her wonder how his mouth would feel on her while she was hurting him.
Focusing on Jacob once more, she delivered ten strikes to his left thigh, followed immediately by ten to his right. Same strength, slightly faster speed. She could see him working harder to accept the pain this time, his efforts like fuel to the heat taking her over, his groans making her want to use more force. She switched the plug to low again, gradually turning it up until it was one click away from full speed.
Aiming higher, she hit the crease where ass meets leg, fifteen on the left, fifteen on the right. He cried out a little on the last three strokes of the left side, and the last six strokes on the right. Not a scream, just a vocalization, but it made her understand what a full out scream could do to a Dom as she resisted the urge to touch her clit and send herself over the edge.
She caressed his thighs, feeling the heat. “Sir Brent, how's his tongue?"
"I'm happy with it, and I hear he's skilled with girl parts, too. Would you like to move him?"
"Yes. If you have thigh cuffs that'll fit me, I'd like to restrain his hands to my thighs and have him use his mouth to pleasure me. You know him better than I, so I'll leave it up to you to decide whether his own genitals should be in pain while he's pleasuring me."
Brent's smile was beautifully evil. “I think you need to learn about ball stretchers. Let's put one on before we move him."
Dana fumbled a bit fastening the stiff leather around his scrotum, pulling the ties from top to bottom as Brent instructed. She heard Jacob's breathing change as she tightened and looped the last two grommets, and she gently fondled his balls, fascinated at how tightly they were forced into their sacks.
Brent released Jacob from the table as she unwrapped her dress and hung it on an empty hook near the door. Sir Brent had seen her naked at the club before, but she wondered about the weirdness of her undressing to get it on with his submissive. He'd placed the thigh cuffs on the table and she climbed up and put them on herself, tightening them as much as she could. They were loose, but did the trick of restraining Jacob's hands to her thighs. Smiling, she reached for his head and gently urged his face where she wanted it.
His mouth was heavenly, and she ended up flat on her back, her feet resting lightly on his shoulders as he brought her to ecstasy more times
than she could count. She gave various orders and requests, depending on the urgency, telling Jacob where she wanted his mouth, whether he should go faster or slower, whether to go deeper or give her clit attention. Each orgasm built on itself, making her come out of it hornier than she'd gone in, her need growing until she thought she'd go mad.
She looked sideways at Brent, sitting in a comfortable chair, his feet stretched out in front of him, hands on the armrests, obviously hard in his jeans, and enjoying the show. “Can he fuck me or should I get on top?"
"You're in charge. If you want him on top, put him there and give him instructions. If you'd rather ride him, that's what you should do."
"I want clover clamps,” she said, releasing his wrists from her thighs. “With a chain between, so I can pull on his nipples while he fucks me. We'll need a condom, too. Please."
Brent brought the condom and clamps, and Jacob sat back on his heels to roll the condom on.
"Should we take the ball stretcher off? Or is it there to keep him from coming?"
"It's helping, but we'll remove it so he can have an opportunity to show you his control."
Dana fondled his balls, looking up into his eyes as she did. Their gaze met and the connection between them fused, making her heart skip a few beats, but guilt made her look down. It was wrong to feel such a strong attraction to someone else's partner.
Needing to do something, she began the process of loosening the ball stretcher, taking almost as long to get it off as she had to put it on.
She looked sideways at Brent, prepared to tell him maybe this hadn't been a good idea, but he leaned in and kissed her forehead, pulling back to say, “I give you permission to like him, Dana. He likes you, too, and it doesn't take away from my relationship with him. Fuck him, make love to him, whatever you want. Don't worry about my feelings; I'm having fun watching. You have my blessing to feel attracted to him, to like him, or even to fall in love with him. I know you, you're my friend, and I trust you with him.” He smiled. “And stop worrying about what you can and can't do. Just don't order him to come—that, and condom use, are your only restrictions."
Safeword: Davenport Page 13