KNOW - Mattie & Milo (Fettered Book 4)

by Lilia Moon

  Trust Ari to be trying to free six birds with one stone. “Okay. You picked him, and I know you have choices.”

  “I do. So do you.”

  More and less than she thinks, but yes, I’m here of my own free will. I’m just not sure my free will has good judgment. However, that kind of navel gazing isn’t what anyone in this scene needs right now, including me. We’re all supposed to be following Manny’s lead, and it’s time we got on that. I move to my sub’s side and put a hand on her lower back. She leans into my touch and lets out a quiet breath.

  Good. This isn’t just about Ella—Mattie’s showing up for real too. Trusting me not to be a newbie or an asshole. Believing I can hold her through this, despite way too much evidence that I might flake.

  Normally that would worry me, because subs who trust too much are the ones who end up hurt. But Mattie’s not that person, and her willingness to open to me here is a choice, one that makes me feel good and strong and warm inside. I want to be that guy, that Dom. The one worth leaning into, deserving of that trust.

  Ari backs into Tank and leans into his chest, and then glares at Manny, who’s just walked over with Ella. “It’s not her fault. We made her do it.”

  He holds up his phone like a weapon. “You have crappy taste in music. And nobody makes my sub do anything she doesn’t want to do.” He points a stern glare at each of the three subs in turn. “However, it’s clear you were co-conspirators in this, and your Doms have agreed that you should all share in the punishment.”

  Ari’s Dom looks a bit confused, so I give him a look. This is shadows and mirrors. It doesn’t need to be real.

  His gaze clears, and Ari shimmies her ass in a way that even a baby Dom can’t ignore. Tank growls and puts a hand on the nape of her neck. “Someone’s trying to level up her spanking. On the bench, ass in the air, sweetheart. And do it politely, or I’ll add a blindfold to your punishment.”

  That’s actually a very good threat. Ari would be totally pissed off to miss all the visual action. She walks over to their bench, wearing her best sub manners, and positions herself gracefully. Tank grins and starts working on the restraints.

  I take my eyes off the two of them, because Quint doesn’t let newbies loose who can’t fit a cuff properly, and Ari’s about as helpless as a hungry tiger cub. I raise an eyebrow at my sub. “You’ll take everything Ella takes—and then I’ll decide if that’s enough.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Mattie

  I manage not to laugh at Milo. Which is good, because I’m enjoying him so much. He’s giving my brat verbal rein—but his touch is saying something totally different. He’s in charge.

  He has scared Ella, though. I can see her eyes, wide and unblinking, which is my cue to do something. I head to my bench, because this show needs to get on the road, and keep my voice pitched loud enough for her to hear. “Ella’s tough. I’m pretty sure your hand will get tired long before she’s done. You haven’t had much practice lately.”

  Ella nearly swallows her tongue, but she’s stopped shaking. Manny fires me a quick look of approval.

  Milo growls long and low beside me, and there’s enough bite in it to stir me up in some very yummy ways.

  Ari rolls her eyes from her well-behaved position that’s giving Tank lots of time to get the restraints in place. “Now would be a good time to shut up, Mattie, or we’ll be tied down all night.”

  I grin at her as I lie down. “A girl can always hope.”

  Milo waves a ball gag in his fingers. I do what I’m supposed to do and clam up. It’s not hard—I hate gags.

  Manny eyes his sub, who’s still standing frozen at his side. “You picked yourself some interesting friends.”

  It’s the last word that snaps her into gear, loyalty blasting into every line of her body. “I did, Sir. They’re wonderful, and I don’t think they should be taking my punishment for me.”

  Ari and I make pouty faces, right on cue.

  The light turns on for Ella. I can see it—the moment when she realizes this is truly still a game. All part of the same rowdy, bonded, heady moments that began when we furtively messed with Manny’s ringtone in a dark corner and then nearly peed ourselves laughing a little later as Ella sent him sweet, obedient texts to set it off. She straightens her shoulders and looks up at him. “You should know that I’m one who chose the new ringtone.” She manages a small, beautifully defiant smile. “I think it suits you.”

  Some hack in the crowd has clearly decided to play along, because Manny’s phone lights up at that moment, and we can all hear the opening bars to “Marshmallow Man”.

  Manny’s face tightens, and there’s a moment where I’m sure we’ve lost Ella. He points at the bench, all silent, glowering Dom, and nobody breathes.

  She turns to face the squishpod, and I can see every moment of her history sitting on her shoulders, trying to flatten her bravery right out of her. And then she looks at me, looks at Ari, takes a huge, shaky breath—and flounces her way to her bench.

  Not a big flounce, and unless you know Ella, not a very noticeable one. But a flounce.

  And right behind her—Manny, grinning like the genie just escaped the bottle and granted him every wish he’s ever wanted.

  I wiggle my ass in flouncy solidarity. Milo’s hand lands, none too gently. “We’re done hearing from you.”

  He’s somehow managed to get most of the restraints in place while I watched Ella, and he’s given very little room for anything besides my ass to wiggle. Which is good of him—it’s exactly how I like to be tied down, and getting that right on the first try is no easy feat. I wiggle my other ass cheek and he lands a hand on that one too.

  I hear him sigh as he looks over at Manny. “Remind me that we need to keep these three separated.”

  Tank rumbles. “With new army recruits, we just keep them busy.” He reaches for the paddle beside his bench, a good, mid-sized one that doesn’t require a lot of precision and won’t let his strength do any damage he doesn’t intend.

  Manny reaches for his paddle too. This one is smaller, which the smart people in the dungeon know is far scarier.

  I realize I don’t even know what Milo picked.

  Ella’s eyes widen as my Dom leans down, which is all the warning I get before a solid, stinging blow lands below my sit bone. It feels glorious. I wiggle a little. “That’s very nice of you, Sir.” Apparently I’ve taken on the role of chatty brat. Ari won’t want to distract Tank too much now, and Ella’s still too new at this to taunt a Dom with a paddle in his hand.

  She’ll learn.

  Milo crouches at my side and holds up a pink plastic wrench. “One more word out of you and you’ll be getting paddled with this.”

  My pout would be very real this time, but I don’t dare protest. I want this, and he knows it, and now everyone else knows it too.

  He moves behind me, and this time the paddle lands on the other side. Firm blows, ones that say his arm isn’t nearly as out of practice as I feared, and that he knows what I can handle straight off. My mind blooms with dizzy glee and wants to reach for clean, clear space, but it’s not time for that yet. There are people here who need my brain to stay attached. I lie still and listen to the sound of three Doms warming up three asses, really happy that one of them’s mine, and try to be patient.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Milo

  I can feel Mattie leaning into this. I check in with myself, because this is exactly where shit starts to go wrong. So far, it’s okay. I’ve got enough muscle memory to warm her up and do it well, and she’s not a sub who has tricky needs. Just a basic container, one with clear train tracks and steady hands.

  I let myself sink into the sounds of a public club scene. It’s been a long time since I’ve done one, and it’s nice. The attention isn’t on me. I’m just a Dom prop, a handy paddle wielder while we help Ella get where she needs to go. Which we’ve mostly already accomplished. She’s on her bench, strapped down, and nobody missed her happy smile
as Manny tightened the last restraint.

  Tank’s stopped worrying he’s going to break Ari, and around her scraps of underwear, her ass is turning a nice shade of pink, which will please no one more than the woman strapped to his bench. She catches me looking and I give her a nod. Her Dom’s solid enough for what she wants to do next.

  She waits for the next blow to land and lets out a screech. “Ouch. Sir, that hurts!”

  Tank looks like she stabbed him.

  Ari turns her head into the bench and speaks in a petulant whisper. “Big meanie.”

  Manny and I shake our heads at each other, trying to give the big guy a little help.

  He clues in fast. He runs a hand over Ari’s pink ass. “Maybe I need a smaller paddle. Wouldn’t want to hurt your delicate self or anything.”

  Manny holds up one the size of his fist. “You can borrow this one if you want.”

  Ari rolls her eyes at him. “Bigger meanie.”

  Tank smacks her ass with the bigger paddle he’s still holding. “I’ll use that one if she doesn’t seem suitably chastened when I’m done with this one.”

  Ella dares a very brave eye-roll in his direction.

  Manny manages not to laugh and waves the tiny paddle in front of his sub’s eyes. “We might have to take turns. Apparently Ella here hasn’t yet realized the error of her ways.”

  Nobody is more surprised than Ella when a small giggle squeaks out.

  My hand is in the small of Mattie’s back, and I can feel her pleasure that someone in her world has found a new and bigger way to be here. I let that roll over me too. The communal part of kink has always mattered to me. Being part of something, serving each other. I don’t usually do it with a paddle in my hand, but this isn’t gray. I can do this. It feels green and good and somewhere I want to be.

  I feel Manny’s energy shift. He raises and eyebrow and looks at Tank and me. “Twenty each? Think that will be sufficient?”

  That’s guidance I don’t need, but Tank does, and I can tell by Ella’s eyes that it will push her. An acknowledgment of her bravery, and a reward, even if she doesn’t realize it yet. Because the high she’s going to land in after will be a really beautiful thing.

  I turn my attention back to my sub, because kidding around in warm-ups is permissible with an experienced sub, but serious impact play needs my full attention, always. I firm up my hand in the small of her back, letting Mattie know the obvious—and feel her entire body turn to goo. She’s relaxing so that the paddle has maximum impact with minimum aftereffects, but this is far more than good training. She wants this.

  She’s entirely, wildly ready.

  And her Dom just landed in gray.

  Because I’m not. I don’t want to do this. My brain knows it, and so do my clenched hands and the sudden, strangled lump in my throat. I want to meet her needs, I want to support the four people here with us, I want to be a part of the communal buzz when Ella hits her high and we all get to share a piece of it.

  But nothing in me wants to keep landing a paddle on Mattie’s ass.

  Which makes me a selfish shit who’s walked us both right into a brick wall I could see coming from miles away.

  I keep the paddle going. I need to. I won’t drop her again. I can get to the end of this scene, because even selfish shits can pull their act together for the five minutes it’s going to take to get to the grand finale. But I can feel the bigger message that’s hammering on my brain far harder than I’m hammering on her ass.

  I can’t be who she needs.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Mattie

  I feel the shift. The moment when the hand on my back stops being happy, and it nearly breaks me.

  I thought, for a few really happy minutes, that we were going to pull this off, but I’ve been with too many trainees not to read this for exactly what it is. I don’t move, don’t change anything, because I won’t break this scene. It’s not about me. Ella’s already headed into subspace, her Dom’s going to levitate if he gets any prouder, and judging from her wiggling, Tank’s not going easy on Ari anymore and she’s getting a decent paddling.

  I catch a glimpse of the big guy’s face and know I’m right. He’s found it—that thing he sensed was here all along, but hadn’t actually felt yet—and it’s beautiful. I smile, because those moments are gold. The one where a kinky person finally understands who they are and why they want this and that it can be very good.

  I smile—and I grieve, because the man competently wielding a paddle on my ass is having a realization just as primal, just as strong, just as undeniable, and I suddenly feel like a fool for trying to drag him somewhere he was really clear he didn’t want to go.

  I swallow. I’m a big girl, and I can take my lumps, even if they come from a guy who doesn’t really want to be delivering them. I can feel him trying. Working hard to stay present, to do more than just go through the motions. But something essential to who he is has fled the scene, and we both need it to be here for this to work.

  Sometimes first instincts are the very best ones.

  I try to help him, to stay out of my head and to meet the paddle from the inside of my skin and to let it chase away at least some of the debris that’s gathered. But we’re both struggling. I know it, he knows it, and if we’re not careful, some of the very savvy people watching us are going to know it too.

  It isn’t long before Manny pauses, rubbing a loving, pleased hand on Ella’s ass. “Have I made my point yet, sweetheart?”

  She’s almost too far gone to answer him. “Yes, Sir. Phone. Don’t touch. Sorry.”

  He’s got a dumb grin on his face that I wish she could see. “That’s right. And what happens to subs who mess with their Dom’s possessions?”

  Ella’s mumbling now. Something about very bad things. And cuddles.

  Tank’s letting Ari loose, and he looks pretty chuffed at her unfocused eyes. He swoops her up like she weighs nothing and heads over to the nearest couch. Good. Ari revels in cuddly aftercare, especially with a Dom who’s earned it.

  I feel Milo releasing the last restraint. When he crouches down by my head, his eyes are sad.

  I let him see that mine are too. “Gray?”

  He nods. “I’m so sorry.”

  I am too, but we walked into this eyes wide open. “Not your fault. Please don’t beat yourself up.” He will, but there’s nothing I can do about that.

  Nothing I can do about anything, because even in my sadness, I can feel my needs pushing up. They’re not changing, no matter how much I might like them to. I need what lives here. To be a brat and a friend and a mentor and part of something where I get my ass paddled in front of a crowd and get to be happy and clear and sated at the end of it.

  Not lying deflated on a bench because my Dom doesn’t actually want to be here and we both know it.

  I reach out and touch his cheek. Which is all I allow myself, because if I do anything more, I won’t do the really hard thing I know I need to do next. “I’m good. I don’t need aftercare. Just a bottle of water if you could find me one.” It’s not entirely the truth, but my heart needs care, and he’s not the person who can give it. Even though I really want him to.

  He nods, quiet and sad, and stands, helping me to my feet.

  I head for a quiet couch tucked around the side of the bar. Most people are gathering around the four who just had a really good scene, because that kind of high is contagious and everyone wants to be close to their sneezes. I pick up a blanket and cuddle in over in my dark corner. I’m sure there are eyes on me—no sub at Fettered ever gets to wander off after a scene, no matter how much she might want to. But my signals are clear.

  I’ll be left alone.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Mattie

  I don’t know how long I sit with a blanket draped over my head. Long enough to drink the bottle of water somebody hands me, not long enough to need to pee it back out again.

  I feel the couch slope under my butt as someone sits down next t
o me. The fingers that reach for mine are small and warm and strong and they belong to someone I love like a sister, but I still don’t want to come out and talk to her.

  “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “Ella got what she needed, and so did Tank and I, but you totally didn’t, and I’m sorry for that.”

  “Not your fault.” I dig out of the blanket far enough to actually make eye contact, which means I can see Ari’s empathy instead of just feeling it. That doesn’t help the mess inside me settle any. “I’m not over here sulking. I’m trying to keep myself from doing something stupid.”

  Her eyebrows fly up.

  I wait. She’s the smartest cookie I know, and she’ll figure it out faster than I can explain it.

  She sighs. “You want it to be him.”

  I nod, and my throat feels like it never saw any of that water. “I know how important impact play is to me, and I know what happens to people who don’t get to live as their full, kinky selves, and I know how awful I would feel long term if I gave those things up for him, and I swore I would never be resentful like that because my parents do that to each other and it’s the worst way ever to live.” The tears have arrived, and there’s not a thing I can do to hold them back. “I know all that, Ari, and I know how to stand for my truth and be who I need to be and not let anyone take that away from me. But right now all I want to do is go crawl into his lap and change who I am and tell him it will all be okay.”

  She touches my cheek. “You really like him.”

  “How can I not?” These are ugly tears, the kind that come with snot and hiccups. “He’s warm and he sees and he listens and he lets Evie dance in front of him and Tash hide behind him and he loves them both for exactly who they are. He could love me like that and it would be the greatest feeling in the world.”