Not that she seemed to mind, with the way her hand reached for his hip, clasped hold of there, and with a gentle push away of his body, her lips slid along his length. Right before he could slip from her completely, she grasped him harder and hauled him right back into her.
Closing his eyes again, he tried letting himself believe he was somewhere else. Possibly with someone else. And gave himself over to the wet sucking of the short-haired woman, the dig of her fingernails into his skin, where she demanded his thrusts. The way the bed began swaying, swaying him with it, as her hips began a steady thrust into the mouth that sucked on her with equal fucking vigour.
The bed jostled more, and Chase’s eyes opened to a guy climbing onto the foot of the bed. His gaze skipped from where Chase’s cock got worked by the woman’s lips, to where her cunt got worked by the other woman’s greedy mouth, finally landing on the rounded curves of the free arse, where she’d positioned herself on spread knees as she pushed deeper between those thighs like she hadn’t fed for fucking months.
Broad, muscular, his black mask hiding half of the face beneath his well-trimmed hair, he gripped hold of his cock as he shuffled closer on his knees to the untreated pussy. Reaching out with his free hand, he brushed a palm across the cheeks of her ass, and as if she’d been craving some contact, the dark-haired woman pushed it higher. A signal of welcome. Come fuck. Come play.
He slipped his hand between her thighs, and her body jerked into him. Chase kept his gaze on them, as the lips around his cock sucked harder. Watched as the man brought his fingers back wet, as he licked the length of them whilst his palm stroked over his shaft. As he took those same, still shiny fingers and rubbed them around the woman’s anus.
Chase waited for her protest. Anal sex was one of the biggest safe word inducers. She merely rolled her hips back at him, as if impatient.
The guy didn’t seem to need more confirmation than that. Ducking his face in close, he gave a long lick across her puckered opening, and the woman groaned against her friend’s cunt in response. As if spurred by the sound, the guy licked more viciously at her. Hard, intentional laps of his tongue, his saliva dripping freely across her skin. Once he’d saturated her anal crease, he pushed up, and shifting closer, he positioned the head of his cock at the entrance to her ass. Finally, wrapping a hand around her hip, he forced himself slowly into her body.
With the invasion, her muscles stiffened throughout her legs, her fingers grasped at something to cling onto. Wrapping a hand around her companion’s thigh, she dived hard into her pussy feeding, the fleshy folds she delved inside muffling her groan as the guy withdrew his cock, stifling a second, louder groan when he pushed inside her a second time.
As if being fucked in the ass had set a new pace all round, the short-haired woman banged her pussy faster against the tongue lapping. Gripped Chase’s hip even harder as her head nodded, her mouth swallowing him up, her cheeks massaging him as hotly as any wet cunt could. And once more, Chase relaxed into her ministrations. Let his head drop back and focused on the ceiling, until only the heat of that mouth and the grunts and moans and sucking danced through him as stimulation, and his cock strived for a whole new level of rigidity.
He knew when the first contact had been broken, by the heightened volume of the dark-haired woman, by the frustrated growl that vibrated around his shaft, and he glanced down to see the other woman clawing at the bedsheet, her head stuck in as stiff a position as the rest of her body. Her mouth seemed stretched to accommodate the sounds diving free of her throat, while the guy behind her drove his cock in faster and harder, his face screwed up into a blend of concentration and nearly-there.
As the movements of the mouth around his shaft slowed, Chase slipped his hand around the back of her head, urged her on. If she stopped, he’d lose his momentum—definitely not a step back he wanted to take.
She did as commanded, but released her hold on his hip and slid her hand along her own body. Over her stomach. Her hairless crotch. As soon as she’d reached her clitoris, both swollen with need and glossy with saliva, she started working herself. Her fingers dancing across the stiff peak, her body once again rolling into the stimulus. Beside them, the deep male grunts grew louder. The woman’s cries had hit the high whine of desperation. Chase just focused on the wet strokes over his cock. And the manic strumming of fingers over clit and cunt.
Except, the more he stared at them, the harder he got, the more a different pussy crept into his head. One with pale hairs that curled around the soft folds. A different set of fingers. More delicate. Less experienced …
Like his thoughts had hit a switch in his brain, he began shutting down from the moment. He needed to get out of there. Before he went limp, or failed to ejaculate. Or something else equally fucking mortifying.
Because thinking of Abi, while fucking the face of a woman whose pussy was getting sucked on, by a woman whose ass was getting fucked, made him feel like a real sleazy fucking dirt-bag. The worst of the fucking worst.
But as he went to pull out of the woman’s mouth, her hand snapped free of her cunt and hauled him to her again. Her mouth sucked harder. Wetter. Faster. Her fingernails piercing his flesh with her demands and her teeth scraping his length in her fervour.
And his stupid betraying dick kicked back into life, his body begging him to stay, no matter how much his mind tried to make his renewed grunts sound like No’s. No matter how much his head suddenly wanted him to be anywhere else but right there in that moment.
Like it mocked him in its disobedience, his cock grew harder and harder, setting into a solid mass of need-to-fucking-come. His balls tightened and twisted into rocks of give-us-a-fucking-break.
He barely had chance to state his case to his body, before it was jerking the hell all over the place, and his hand was slamming down against the bed to catch the forward throw of his torso, as his hips smacked against the woman’s face and fucked, fucked, fucked every last drip of cum straight to her throat.
She bordered on gagging by the time he let her slide her mouth from over his dick, but she still smiled up at him like she’d just been given some kind of prize. Still watching him, she trailed her fingers back over her body. Back to her pussy. Opening her legs wider, she stared at him as she glided her fingertips between her folds and delved into her cunt.
If she expected Chase to step in where her friend at left off, she was shit out of luck.
Pushing away from her, he made for the edge of the bed. The guy’s muscles had begun the intense cording of someone about to ejaculate. The long-haired woman had evolved to giving out the continuous wail of a woman in multi-orgasm.
Gripping hold of her hair, Chase sent her face back to the pussy she was supposed to be eating, and by the time he’d climbed from the bed, the woman he’d left behind had her fingers tangled into the long head of hair, as she fucked that face like she had a mission she couldn’t afford to fail at.
His legs felt jellified as he stepped out of the room, and he leaned against the corridor wall for a moment, his breaths still irregular. His dick still bouncing around as if searching for its next sucker. Resting his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes, scraped his fingers through his hair.
The fuck, the fuck, the fuck was wrong with him?
His mind felt tugged in too many directions at once. And none of them were the same path his stupid fucking body wanted to take. Personally, Chase preferred his body’s choice. He just needed to get his head in with the program. Needed to purge his fucking thoughts of a girl he barely even knew.
And when pleasure didn’t do the job, there was only one alternative. An alternative almost guaranteed to work.
***
Chase rarely stepped inside the Blue Room of The Club. If he felt the need to role play, he preferred the privacy of his own space. For him, role playing, or being Master wasn’t about putting on a show for spectators. Not about theatricals. It was about connecting with whomever he’d pared with through a mutual level of respec
t and understanding.
He’d definitely never stepped inside the Blue Room in the mood he’d adopted right then. Never seeking the high others raved about.
The blue-tinted space was the biggest of all the named rooms. From front to back, small sections had been cordoned off, like office cubicles but higher for privacy, a little larger, too. Not total privacy, though. Every slot stayed bared open to any brave enough to follow the route that led between them all. So long as they understood they might get invited in to whatever scene they witnessed.
Chase glanced into only a few.
Four naked bodies hung from hoops embedded into the rear wall, the second guy along shallow breathing as a club-approved attendee scored the sharp edge of a blade across his torso.
A woman with her hands pressed flat to the wall, her tits bouncing as some guy fucked her from behind, her head bowed toward where a second one knelt in the space before her body and sucked at a dildo she’d attached against her clit.
In another, he just caught the struggle between a man and woman as he forced her to the wall and grabbed at her flesh, while she attempted to push him away. Amazing how many women fantasised their own rape.
Chase spared them more than a glance, as the very thing he’d gone in search of loomed out of the shadows ahead.
The biggest space in there, and the darkest, the final spot stretched from one side of the room to the other. Centrally placed, two posts had been affixed from floor to ceiling. Chains hung from them. More chains swayed down from the ceiling, a cuff attached on the end of each. At the foot of each post, more cuffs had been attached. Around the walls of the space, dark shapes lined the walls. Chase suspected them to be the tools that created the screams and cries often heard drifting from the Blue Room.
As he’d hoped, nobody occupied the spot he sought. He doubted it would last for long, though. Especially as he crossed straight toward the two vertical beams until he stood between them. It’d been the reasoning for its positioning. Anyone brave enough to step into the shadows could be visible almost as far back as the door, and everyone a person passed in the Blue Room would be able to guess at their destination. Because anyone looking for oblivion didn’t pause to play. Nor to watch.
Head easy on his neck, fists flexing at his sides, he wondered over the sanity of where his body—and mind—had led him. He counted up a list in his head, of all the reasons he should’ve been spinning his butt right around and beating a path out of there before anyone came.
Just as his resolve truly began to waver, fingertips brushed against his back. Over his butt. Around his hip. The rattle of a chain sounded to his left.
He didn’t look up as the chill of metal slid across his stomach, an arm coming around and taking the chain’s end. A hook clicked on his right, and the chain pulled taut in a diagonal line across his front. Another clink to his right, and a second chain clicked into place over his back. Creating a heavy, metallic X, with him trapped between its lines.
Fingers folded around one of his wrists, and his arm was tugged upward until above his head. The leather of a cuff slid around just above the joint, the tightening of it pressing against his pulse. His other arm was lifted and tethered beside it.
As a hand knocked his foot to the side, hot breath hit the back of his thigh. In more silent commands, his ankles were bound, one to each post. After a quick tug on each to check their security, hands brushed over the back of each calf, his thighs, pausing where the lower half of the chains had been draped. The warm breaths reached the back of his neck, lingering there long enough to create a gentle sweat across his skin.
“I never, for even one second of my life, imagined I would ever see Chase Walker stood between these posts.”
Words spoken too low for anyone else to hear, but Chase recognised the voice, and he muttered a curse beneath his breath.
Jones’s saunter around to the front of him was slow, probably a little torturous, too. His face came in close. Lips curved at the corners. Eyes glinting with some kind of malicious excitement. “Definitely you,” he whispered.
“Fuck off, Jones,” Chase hissed back.
He pushed in closer still, until his lips brushed Chase’s ear. “You know the rules of these posts. Standing between them doesn’t make you the master. It makes you the fucking slave.”
His heart thumped against his ribs. “Don’t make me go scarab on your ugly ass.”
Jones pulled back until Chase could see his eyes again, and he held himself steady as the darkness within them seemed to suck Chase’s truths from his brain. Because Chase had never once resorted to a safe word. Pride played a small part in that—the bigger one played by the fact that he didn’t usually offer himself up in positions where he might need it.
Jones took a step back like he’d found the resolve he’d been hoping would be absent, his hands lifting to brace against the bars each side of Chase. “And if I promise not to lay a finger on you, personally?”
“Does that include via the extension of any props?” Chase asked, because he knew Jones could be brutal once his brain switched over to lust. He’d seen it happen to others. The thought of it happening to himself was scary as fuck.
He gave a small nod. “I won’t lift a finger to you. You have my word.”
Chase blew out a short breath, wrapped his fingers around the chains supporting his tethers.
“But I’m staying,” Jones said. “I am totally fucking sticking around for this.”
Before he could respond to that, Jones pushed back and nodded to a spot somewhere behind Chase. “Crop, whip, or paddle?” he asked, turning back.
Crop, whip, or paddle. He let the words roll around in his head. None of them sounded appealing—unless it was his own hand holding them. All of them would deliver what he needed.
“Crop,” he said.
A slow smile crept over Jones’s face, one Chase really didn’t like the look of. “Number four,” he said, and a shadow moved to Chase’s right, toward the back wall where the first of the accessories hung.
As the dark figure moved back toward him, he gripped even tighter to the chains. Gritted his teeth against what he knew was to come. Clenched every muscle through his legs like that’d somehow help him stay grounded.
No more than a foot away, Jones stared hard at him, his eyes flickering as if he searched for any hint of doubt. “Ready?” he asked, and Chase nodded.
A sharp sting slapped against his ass, sending his hips bucking forward. Fire rapid-spread across his butt cheeks. And Chase had no chance of capturing his whimpered grunt as it shoved free of his throat.
Jones tipped his head, studied him again, the taut cording in his arm telling Chase he gripped his cock without him even having to look down and confirm. “You good?” Jones asked, worry diluting the beginnings of lust that brewed in his eyes.
Chase blew out a sharp breath and nodded.
“Again,” Jones ordered.
The shock of a second thwack spliced through him, and his body jerked as a hissed breath pierced outward between his teeth.
“Again,” Jones said, his voice a command, and as pain lanced across Chase’s butt for the third time, he leaned in close until the tips of their noses brushed. Until the soft hairs bristled across Chase’s chest from their nearness.
Chase lost sight of the room with the fourth hit. A tingle flooded his spine, his skull, into his shoulders, as the pain teased his sense receptors with the promise of more. And as a softly-blown breath caressed along the side of his neck, his body stirred in response. His head tilted into the tenderness, craving it as an antidote to the pain, despite his brain knowing Jones provided it.
His moans drooled out, long and deep, with the next two slices of pain across his ass, neither of them quite abating, even as the heat of Jones’s breaths travelled over his chest. His stomach. Both of them merging with the groans he heard below him. Ones he knew had come from Jones. And his cock sprang forth with the jolting of his hips. Hard. Needy. Ready for something Chase ha
d no fucking intention of giving it.
His knees unlocked with the whipping slap that followed, his arms screeching out their protest in the heat blooming through his shoulders as they were yanked tighter still, until only an endless brightness filled his vision.
Even through the all-consuming pain, though, he felt the hot breaths, so heavy along his stiffened shaft. He could visualise the nearness of the lips blowing them free. Visualise the parting of them in anticipation. Could imagine them brushing over the tight, tender flesh, despite them not once touching him. The way his hairs danced over his thighs told him more than just that mouth danced dangerously close to his skin. And he suddenly wanted them all closer. Wanted them so much closer than teasing. Than the promised restrictions allowed.
His hips jerked his cock forward before even the next strike had landed, fire engulfing the muscles of his arms as they did so.
Once more, only steamed air and the offer of heat he couldn’t quite reach came as reward. And once more Chase thrust forward as best his unsupportive legs would allow, only to be denied any contact. In response, the pressure in his groin boiled, his balls knotting hard at the teasing.
At some point during the ministrations of the crop to his rear, the pain ceased to register. At some point, his brain let go of the space his body occupied. Claimed a new space to reside. One where only brightness shone over him, and a lightness to his soul he hadn’t realised he craved. In that space, soft hands caressed his thighs. Even softer lips stroked his chest. And the heat engulfed his cock, tantalising the flesh there, making him harder and fucking harder. No more groans of pain left him, only moans of want and need, until his world narrowed down to the pathetic efforts of his body to reach its destination and the almost pained sounds of a desperate man.
***
Something soft and warm supported Chase’s chest. Something really fucking heavy crushed his thighs. And something cold and wet, really wet, slid over his ass.
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