by Ann Jacobs
Brad shook his head. “Doesn’t seeing Ninia that way remind you of what Gareth did to Diana?”
Jared considered that for a minute.”It did, a little, until I realized how much she wanted to experience the sensations again. You do realize that I wouldn’t do it until she got her hair cut short and had a wig made so nobody would need to see her shaved.” He’d finally fulfilled Ninia’s fantasy only after the wig had been delivered.
“As she pointed out to me, her wig covers her shaved head a hell of a lot better than this prosthesis hides the fact that I’ve lost an irretrievable part of me. She can always grow out her hair and will do it any time I say so.” Jared paused, grinned at his brother. “Tell the truth, I got turned on, shaving her head, once I made the first pass with the razor, though no one could have convinced me beforehand that I would. It felt damned good to caress her bare scalp while she was giving me head in there, the hottest sort of power exchange. I’ll deny it, though, if you tell Ninia. She thinks I shaved her just to fulfill her fantasy, which I thought I was doing until I experienced the kink. I may keep her shaved, at least until it starts to get old. As long as she doesn’t leave the bedroom without her wig.”
Brad shook his head. “I couldn’t do it, not even for somebody I love as much as you love Ninia. Seeing a woman without her hair reminds me too much of Diana and all the shit she put up with before we took the reins, had her put in rehab and saw Gareth sentenced to three to five years for spousal abuse.”
Until tonight, no one but Jared had known Ninia was wearing a wig. It looked exactly like her own hair, a hell of a lot more real than his prosthesis. But Jared didn’t care that they’d revealed her tonight to the friends who shared their lifestyle. “Kink’s more fun with a woman you love. You’ll discover that one day. Meanwhile, I’ve gotta go. My wife will be waiting, anxious to get home and share a nice, warm bed and some private loving. I’ll fly us over to Denver next week and let you know how Diana’s doing. She should be almost finished with her therapy by now.”
“Come back anytime, both of you. My dungeon is your dungeon. You and your fetishes are always welcome. Even if some of them make me cringe.” Brad got up and offered Jared his hand.
“Thanks. I think.” Whistling, Jared made his way out of the dressing room…to Ninia.
It had been a long time, a blessedly long time since he’d had the nightmares that used to plague him. Instead, all his fantasies now were about his wife—and when he reached for her, she was always there for him. No more mirages, just a flesh-and-blood woman Jared loved with all his heart, who loved him in return.
Part Two – Brad’s Story
Damn. The rigors of a rough rodeo season had left him aching enough that he had little doubt he’d turned thirty-five this year. Brad McTavish shifted positions, barely managing not to wince when he stretched his legs out on the sofa and tried to focus on the crackling fire. Yeah, he hurt, but the physical aches and pains weren’t what had him feeling down.
It was more this sense that life was rushing by all around him while everything about his own life stayed the same. It was almost as if he were on a roller coaster, bumping and sliding, churning his guts over and over before depositing him in the exact same place each time the ride was over.
He might as well own up to it. He was bored. Bored with running Roped and Lassoed, Laramie’s only BDSM dungeon. Bored with chasing a young boy’s dreams that drove him onto the rodeo circuit every summer. Fuck, he’d even gotten tired of looking out this wall of windows at his land, watching the pumpjacks’ rhythmic up-and-down motion as they kept money flowing into his bank account. Just like every year since he could remember, fat red and white cattle munched hay in the pasture closest to the house, having been moved from the high grazing fields in anticipation of an early freeze.
Even meeting Keely in the observation room at the club every Tuesday and Friday night and giving her the sex fix she seemed to need, pleasurable though it was, wasn’t satisfying him anymore, either.
He could always fly down to Denver. Buy some new sex toys for the dungeon, maybe even trade his ten-year-old Cessna for a newer one. Or he could go get a tattoo or another piercing. Too bad he didn’t cotton much to needles. He remembered how he’d practically jumped out of his skin when he had his dick pierced years ago, even though he’d been almost dead drunk at the time.
Nope, there are no tattoos in this guy’s future. Besides, no new toy or body art is likely to cure you of this blue funk.
Those were all things he’d have done ten years ago. Things that now held very little appeal. Face it, Brad. You’ve gone and grown up, despite all your best efforts not to. You want more out of life than fun and games and new toys. You want to own Keely 24/7, the way your baby brother owns his bride.
He used to believe that if he gave in to commitment, he’d lose the excitement of the lifestyle he’d embraced as soon as he hit puberty. He didn’t believe that anymore.
But how was he going to convince Keely he was more than the club Dom who was always on hand when she needed a friendly fuck? Like everyone else in Laramie, she still thought of him as that wild twenty-some-odd guy every adventurous girl wanted to take on in a scene at the dungeon. None of them, Keely included, wanted anything that smacked of “long-term relationship” with the likes of him.
He sighed. Yep, that was the heart of it. Keely, the five-foot-two redhead who liked her loving rough and took to dungeon scenes. She was the main cause of his black-ass attitude.
Why the fuck was she so eager to be his submissive when she came to the club yet totally stubborn about extending their relationship out into the real world? When Brad thought about her attitude of not mixing sex with friendship or risking putting out emotional ties, it made him feel sort of like a paid stud—and he didn’t like that. Not at all.
He ought to dump Keely and find a woman who wouldn’t mind devoting her life to meeting his every need, the way Jared’s wife Ninia did for him. And who allowed him to reciprocate, loving and cherishing her with everything he had. Brad closed his eyes and imagined himself here with his own sex slave. She’d be kneeling at his feet, naked, resting her cheek on his knee while she waited for his order. Trouble was, the woman in his mental picture had Keely’s face. Keely’s hot body and the sassy smile she shot him on the rare occasions when their paths crossed on the streets of Laramie.
And that scene he’d just envisioned wasn’t likely to happen. The only time Keely got down on her knees was in the dungeon, when the pose was part of a BDSM scene.
Chapter One
In his office at Roped and Lassoed, Brad watched a trail of steam thin and disperse over his coffee mug. What with the way the wind was blowing outside, he imagined it would be a damn slow day.
Falling Star, the Native American woman who kept them all in line, stuck her head through the door.”Everything’s all ready. Dressing rooms are clean. I even scrubbed down the showers. All the furniture’s wiped down and sanitized, and the supply cabinets are filled up.” She wrinkled her nose as if put off by the “supplies” that included condoms, handcuffs, ball gags and more. “You boys be good, and keep a close eye on the weather. My old bones tell me bad storm’s brewing out in the mountains.”
Brad grinned. Star had gone from scowling to smiling in the three years she’d been keeping Roped and Lassoed in order. “Thanks, Star. Is John here yet?” If he weren’t, Brad would have to step in if any horny members needed a club Dom on the early shift—and he wasn’t keen on making it with anybody but Keely.
“Yeah, boss, he’s hard at work already. With that little redhead gal.”
Any doubts Brad may have had about the evolution of his feelings for Keely into something more evaporated at Star’s casually uttered words. He saw red and suddenly knew exactly how a bull calf must feel when the cinch strap is drawn cruelly over his testicles.
“Drive carefully,” he said, dismissing Star lest he take his rage out on her. Once he was alone, he exploded out of the chair, tore off his
clothes and put on the leather chaps and vest he wore for scenes.
Out of breath by the time he changed, Brad stomped into the dungeon, fists clenched. It pissed hell out of him that Keely had gotten to Roped and Lassoed early and was in the middle of a scene with John, Brad’s day manager. Hell, he’d half expected her to stay home today since it looked like a nasty storm might soon be blowing in from the west.
When he saw her writhing, gagged and blindfolded on a St. Andrew’s Cross while his buddy applied the cat -o’-nine, he wanted to drag the whip out of John’s hand and use it to stripe his back until it bled.
He must have gotten the love bug bad. He’d never before felt possessive toward a sub, not the way he’d been feeling lately about Keely. “John! Drop the whip. You’re out of here.”
“But, Boss, I was just doing my job.” The other Dom’s reasonable tone only served to further incense Brad.
“Out. I don’t like other men playing with what’s mine.” Not that Keely would consider herself his, but that didn’t matter. Still he had the grace to realize John had only been doing his job. “Hey, buddy, it’s not your fault. Now beat it before I put welts on your skinny ass that make what you did to Keely look like love taps.”
“Okay. Didn’t mean to encroach on your territory. But she never said a word. Have fun, you two,” John said as he beat tracks out the door.
Brad circled the cross, looking at every welt, each sign of submission she’d endured at the hands of another Dom. It made no sense, this feeling of betrayal. He’d hired John to see to the needs of subs who came into Roped and Lassoed without their masters. So why did he feel she’d been violated? Why did he have this sour taste in his mouth, as if he might be about to retch up whatever kind of doughnut it was that he’d wolfed down with his coffee?
Moving forward and taking the flat of his hand to Keely’s reddened bottom, Brad winced at the feel of welts that cut deep into her pale, creamy skin. Welts put there by somebody other than himself. “It’s me, Brad. Maybe you should have waited. Hold on now, I’m going to set you loose so you can pay the price—other than the sore bottom which is going to remind you that trying out a new Dom was a bad, bad idea.”
She strained against the Velcro fasteners as he loosened them. Muffled sounds from her mouth made him pause and get rid of the large ball gag so she could talk. “Pay what kind of price, Master?”
For the first time it bothered him, having her use the generic “master” that could refer to any male Dom controlling her at any moment. “What’s my name?”
As soon as he got the blindfold off her, she shot him a puzzled look before lowering her gaze the way a good sub should. “Brad McTavish. Master Brad McTavish. Why did you throw Master John out?”
“His shift was over.” That was true, even if it wasn’t the reason Brad had gone ballistic and put a quick end to the scene that had been in progress. Quickly, he finished untying her. “Come here. We’re going to start again, from scratch.”
At Brad’s silent order, Keely went on her knees in front of the new fucking machine, a motorized device he’d doubted when he bought it that anybody would like. The subs, male and female alike, had proven him wrong. A shiny stainless steel base, securely bolted to the floor, held a vertical arm and an adjustable piston-like horizontal bar with a two-prong extension that held the brand-new dildo and butt plug of the Dom’s choice, at the ready to penetrate his willing sub. The sight of her folding her hands together over her flat belly, a classically submissive pose, made Brad desperate to know Keely’s submissiveness was meant for him and him alone.
He stepped in front of her and dug his fingers through her soft auburn curls, breathing in the sweet, somehow innocent smell of her shampoo and conditioner. Her warm breath tickled his cock, tempted him to flex his hips and deliver the punishment she so obviously expected. “On all fours now. That’s right, now back up against the machine and raise your pretty red ass just a little more.”
With a flick of the machine’s remote control switch, he positioned the twin dildos and set them to moving, slowly, in and out, as she thrust her hips back and forth in time with the machine’s sensuous, slightly circular motions. “Tell me, slave, who’s your master now?”
“You are, Master Brad.” And he was, for now. Keely leaned forward, ran her tongue over his rigid cock head. He tasted so good, clean and just a little salty. “May I…”
“You want to suck my dick?”
“Please, Master.” She braced herself when he finished adjusting the angle of the double-headed dildo to fit her pussy and ass now that she’d arched her back to give herself access to his cock. Carefully, he set it in motion again. “Please let me taste your long, thick cock. I want to feel it deep in my throat while I run my hands over your tight ass.”
It had been so long since she’d chosen another master to get her off, but she’d been desperate. Brad kept pushing to be more than just her club Dom , and she just couldn’t. So she’d thought she’d try another, just to see if she could make the same magic happen, and her experience with John had been a dismal frustration. Until Brad had come in like a furious warrior, and she’d practically climaxed just to hear his voice. She was in serious trouble. Had a perverse part of her wanted to see how Brad would react to her submitting to another Dom?
He moved closer, took her hands and laid them over his velvety-smooth scrotum. “I want you to play with my balls this time. Take them in your mouth and roll your tongue over them while you jack me with these pretty hands. Do you really think, as naughty as you’ve been, that you deserve to suck my dick?”
“No, Master. I’ve been bad. Punish me, please.” When she pushed her hips back against the machine, it started moving deeper and faster, making her mindless with uncontrolled arousal. It was Brad’s huge pierced cock with the barbell’s two captive beads that she really wanted pressing against the stretched walls of her pussy while the fucking machine did its job on her rear hole, but this punishment had her aching for more. She swirled her tongue over his testicles, loving the way they moved and shifted inside their baby-smooth sac.
“Oh yeah, don’t stop. That feels incredible.” His deep mesmerizing voice swirled around her brain as she kept on, sucking first one and then the other large, oval ball while the fucking machine kept bringing her to the edge of a climax she dared not release. “Stop now. I’ll give you ten seconds to get up and climb onto the table in the center of the room.”
Keely’s pussy and ass still vibrated even after she’d lifted herself off the fucking machine and perched on the edge of the table. Every nerve in her body screamed with arousal, with burning lust that only seemed to ignite with this Dom. What would be her punishment? Would he deny her his beautiful cock, send her away unfulfilled and regretting even more that they couldn’t have more together than these few stolen hours every week at Roped and Lassoed?
When he joined her, he had a flogger in his hand. Not the leather one with metal balls on each strand, but a soft one. “I know you want to be punished. I don’t know why. There is no way I’m going to put any more welts on your beautiful body.”
With that he dragged the silky ends over her breasts. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”
She managed to let out an ecstatic whimper at the strangely tender punishment he was inflicting. She didn’t want kindness, she wanted to come. And she dared not let that happen unless her master gave her permission. The sharp nip of his gleaming white teeth on her nipple gave her the push that let her know she had no choice. Brad was her master and she had no option but to surrender.
“Enough of this, my pretty slave. I’m going to fuck you now, and you can come any time you want to.” He laid her flat on the table, knelt between her legs and rolled on a ribbed condom. Slowly, deliberately, he slid his swollen cock into her hot, wet pussy while he bent his head and drew first one nipple and then the other into his mouth. Faster, harder, he plunged into her. With every stroke, she felt not only his rigid flesh but also the twin bites of the beads
that secured the thick bar that they held in place just behind his cock head.
When he lifted his upper body and changed the angle of his thrusts, she saw his powerful muscles bulge. A vein in his neck throbbed, and he was breathing hard. Didn’t he know he couldn’t just give her permission to come? He had to order it. She dared not give in, think of him as a partner, not just a Dom who could make her lose her inhibitions for the moment.
“Damn it, I told you to come.” He slammed into her harder, almost as if he desperately needed her to let go. “Do it now, or you’re really going to face some punishment.”
Keely felt it coming, that warm glow that spread through her body like a caressing touch of pure sensation. The congested feeling in her pussy as it contracted around her Master’s rock-hard cock, the sensation of heat building, building…and finally exploding in a fiery climax as he thrust one more time and clutched her to his chest as if he’d never let her go.
He held her there for a long time, his pounding heart beating in time with hers. Two bodies drenched with sweat, in the aftermath of a mind-blowing climax. Finally he raised his head from her shoulder and looked her in the eye.
“You’re mine. Only mine. Whenever you come to this club, I’m the only Dom you’re even going to look at. Guess I’ll have to be satisfied with that for now, but what I really want is to take this thing to the next step.” The look on his face made it clear he’d staked his claim.
But she couldn’t accept it, couldn’t risk losing herself entirely. She wouldn’t take a chance that her neighbors would fail to notice if she were seen with this man who was notorious for his sexual exploits, who made no bones about the fact that he lived a hardcore BDSM lifestyle. Not to mention that he was way, way out of her league socially and financially, so much that the few who didn’t see her as a sex freak like her mom would shun her as a social-climbing gold digger.