by Livia Grant
Ryder stood and moved to the opposite end of the medical table. His captive was distracted and didn’t seem to care when he grabbed the electronic control and reclined her, leaving her legs spread, giving their spectators a nice view of her recovering girly bits.
He had to hand it to Davidson. Black Light had the best toys. Ryder fiddled with the controller until he got the table arranged the way he wanted. The end closest to him had just folded towards the floor, leaving Khloe’s head at the very tip of table, her long messy hair dangling down almost to the floor.
Her eyes were closed so she didn’t see the reposition coming. He grabbed a handful of that glorious mane of hers and held her head up just as his other hand hooked her armpit and yanked her closer to his body. Her head now dangled above the floor, held up by his grasp of her hair. Her caramel-brown eyes shone with surprise and only opened wider when he used his free hand to wrestle with his belt buckle. When it was taking too long, he released her hair, letting her head fall back to an almost ninety-degree angle.
Both hands fumbled faster to get his zipper down, finally springing his tortured cock from the prison of his boxer briefs. Even upside down, his submissive-for-the-night was exceptional. Her eyes were glazed over with a lusty trance while her pink tongue licked her lips as if she were looking forward to devouring the meal in front of her.
Ryder nursed his erection while he enjoyed his view. He was so turned on, a dollop of pre-cum not only formed, but splashed to the floor in his excitement.
“Open that beautiful mouth of yours, Princess. It’s my turn to take the edge off.”
Her face was flushed. He wasn’t sure if it was excitement, embarrassment, or just that her head dangled towards the floor. He didn’t care the reason, but he fucking loved it.
She spread her delicate lips to form a small O.
“Oh baby, you’re gonna have to open wider than that.”
He knew he was being a dick, but he’d let the BDSM dynamics of their session get out of whack since he’d pushed her too far. He needed to reestablish who was in charge.
Ryder clamped his hands on either side of Khloe’s upside-down face and stepped closer until the wet tip of his rod was at her now closed lips. Nervous, she wiggled to try to get away from his grasp, but it only made him keep her in a tighter headlock.
“Khloe, that’s enough. You have a job to do, darling. Open. Now.”
She might be inexperienced, but she had an instinctual submissive streak because she responded beautifully to his dominant instructions. Her lips spread wide and he shoved home, into her warm and wet mouth.
Fuck, she felt perfect. She’d taken three-quarters of his length in his first thrust, no small feat for a submissive. He’d looked forward to her gagging as she struggled to take his full length. He let his thumb stroke her cheek as his hips rocked, his form of an olive branch to keep his novice calm through her adorable struggle.
The height of the table was perfect for him to angle her neck in a way that allowed him to thrust so deep that his cock snaked down her throat. It was a tight fit, but she surrendered herself, letting him completely control his speed, angle, and depth. Khloe only protested when Ryder paused, buried to the hilt, cutting off her oxygen for several seconds.
Her teeth nicked his shaft as she coughed with his next withdrawal, but it only added to his pleasure. She gasped for several deep breaths before taking him deep again. This time she swallowed around him and he almost lost his load. The only way he managed to last more than thirty seconds was through his disciplined cadence of self-control, stalling deep inside her so often she was struggling to push him away.
Memories of pushing her too far earlier brought a fresh dose of that emotion he so rarely felt; guilt. He didn’t like it at all.
Ryder pulled out to the tip and gave Khloe long enough to catch her breath. He held her head up so he could see her eyes and the second he did, he was a goner. Tears swam in her expressive gaze, spilling towards the floor in a puddle. Despite his rough use of her, lust and excitement warred in her gaze. He saw no fear. No anger. Just desire.
It only took three more strokes down her throat to get his eruption started. She tried to jerk away from him when she tasted the first spurt of his ejaculation, but he renewed his hold on her head. It excited him to know his cum would be filling her stomach.
They were both out of breath by the time he tucked his now flaccid shaft back in his pants. He lifted the table to support her head first before moving to the opposite end of the table where he started to unbuckle her legs from the stirrups. Knowing she’d been in the awkward position for awhile, Ryder spent a few minutes gently massaging her right foot, ankle and calf before letting it rest on his shoulder while he repeated the treatment on her other leg.
Khloe watched him intently as he cared for her. He didn’t miss the fresh tears in her eyes and suspected she was crashing emotionally after the intense scene they’d shared. They still had other challenges ahead and Ryder wasn’t willing to pass up spending a minute of that time with his Princess.
He scooped her up into his arms after all restraints were removed. Ryder was glad he’d gotten the tour from Spencer so he knew where he wanted to take Khloe for a bit of aftercare and privacy. He liked the way she snuggled closer to him placing her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his neck.
As they left the room, he noticed the crowd that had been watching was breaking up; looking for their next kinky scene to witness, which suited him just fine. As helpful as the spectators were to adding to the ambiance of the scene, he was anxious to be alone with his Roulette partner.
It only took a minute to weave his way to the small quiet space at the edge of the room. There was one other couple in the far corner, but they looked self-absorbed. Ryder crossed to the long red couch opposite them and plunked down, settling Khloe in his lap.
He’d snagged up his duffle bag before they’d left medical and he juggled his limp submissive in his lap as he searched his bag until he came out with another bottle of water. He hugged Khloe closer so he could use his hands to unscrew the top of the bottle before holding it to her lips.
“Drink for me, baby. I don’t want you to get dehydrated.” She opened enough for him to tilt the bottle, managing to get most of the water into her mouth, but spilling several drops down her chin and onto her breasts.
Ryder wished he could see her face, but she’d buried it in the crook of his neck. He heard the sounds of her crying before he felt her first shudder. She was coming down emotionally and it felt odd to recognize that he actually wanted to be exactly where he was in that moment. One advantage of playing with club subs in Moscow was they rarely, if ever, wanted or needed his aftercare. They approached domination and submission as a business where money was to be made.
As he rocked the actress in his arms, he caressed her softly, letting her come down at her own pace. When she’d stopped crying and was instead sniffling against his shirt, Ryder pulled his hankie out and helped her clean up again.
Their eyes met as he asked her to blow her nose and the innocent blush that graced her cheeks was so out of place considering the raunchy shit he’d just done to her body. Her voice quavered when she finally spoke.
“No one has ever done anything like that to me before. Ever.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, Princess. What did surprise me is that you sure seemed to like it.”
“No I didn’t,” she protested too quickly.
“Oh no you don’t. Don’t you dare start fucking lying to me now.” He pulled her away from him so they could see each other. He saw the conflict in her eyes. “Own it. It’s okay.”
“What is?”
“To admit that you like it rough. That you love being dominated.”
“Love is a strong word,” she protested.
“Fine. Do you like the word crave better?”
It took her several long seconds to answer with a soft, “Maybe.”
Ryder reached into this bag agai
n, this time to grab an energy bar. He hugged her closer so he could get his hands together to unwrap it before he held it to her lips. Khloe shook her head, trying to get away from the food.
“I can’t eat.”
“Like hell you can’t. You’re skin and bones, for Christ’s sake.”
“I’m overweight according to my agent.”
“Well then your agent is an asshole.”
That brought a smile to her face and he noticed she didn’t defend the jerk. He wouldn’t back down and when she accepted it, she opened her mouth to bite off the end of the bar. As he watched her struggle to finish eating, he admired the dichotomy of strength and submission that was Khloe Monroe.
I can’t get attached.
“You ready to go roll again?”
She hesitated, looking nervous all over again. “Can I put a robe on until after we roll?” she asked hopefully.
“Nope. Not until after 11:01pm.”
Despite looking dejected at his denial, she answered with a quiet, “Yes, Sir.”
Shit. She’s perfect.
Chapter 8
“Are you okay?” Chase leaned in to question to her as they stood next to the activity roulette wheel.
Before she could even answer, Ryder stepped between them and was pushing Chase back. “Did I give you permission to talk to my sub?”
“Your sub is my old friend so fuck off,” her ex countered.
Khloe knew it was shallow, but she kinda liked having two smoking hot men arguing over her.
“Chase, it’s okay. Really.” He didn’t look like he believed her, but he shook his head slightly before resuming his emcee duties by begrudgingly giving the activity wheel a spin and reaching out to hand her the white marble.
She was nervous as she watched the small ball swirl and bounce around, waiting to see what fate would deliver to her next. A part of her wished the night would have just ended after their first scene. Not only because she was emotionally and physically drained, but more because Ryder had been right. She did crave it rough. Something had always been missing from her relationships. She’d assumed it was love. Now she suspected what she’d really been waiting for was a man strong enough to take what he wanted.
A man like Ryder Helms.
The only drawback was he scared the shit out of her. What if they rolled an activity that ruined the whole night?
“Mr. Helms and The Princess have rolled Dom’s Choice,” Chase announced.
Her “Fuck,” slipped out.
Ryder leaned closer to talk against her ear as he gripped her hips. “Oh yes, you can count on fucking, Princess.”
Chase wasn’t backing down. “Khloe, just safeword already. It’s okay. I’m sorry I conned you into doing this.”
Both dominant men waited for her to respond to Chase’s apology. As handsome as Chase was, it was Ryder who held her attention. No one had ever looked at her with the hungry glare he held in his eyes.
“I’ll keep going.” Her answer was barely more than a whisper, but it brought a curse from her old friend and a sexy smile from her Dom for the night.
“Good girl, Princess.” In an odd move, he held out his crooked arm for her to put her left hand through. It felt like he was formally escorting her, but courtesans rarely paraded around naked. He led her back down the steps, away from the stage. Away from the safety net of her friends. She felt the eyes tracking them as they weaved through the sexy scenes already in progress on the club floor as they headed to an empty platform in the middle of the room. While it wasn’t as high compared to the stage where the roulette wheels were set up as a main attraction, this platform was completely surrounded by the club meaning there would be absolutely no privacy for its occupant.
Her heart rate doubled as she looked at the extraordinary furniture and props available. What she’d seen of Black Light so far, while sexy and extreme, paled when compared to the diabolical things surrounding her.
Dungeon was the word she was looking for. While it may not have the same historical ambience as a medieval torture chamber, the evil props promised to scare the bejesus out of her. A heavy metal cage hung from the ceiling, restraints visible where a naughty sub would be punished. A St. Andrew’s cross with leather straps stood near one edge, its sturdy base sure to hold any captive steady while strapped to it. An old fashioned stockade stood to one side and a whipping post, rings and ropes for restraints, on the other.
Dozens of punishment implements could be seen through the glass doors of the rolling supply cabinet, available for masters to use on errant slaves. Paddles, whips, chains, rope, straps, canes and items she didn’t even recognize ratcheted up her adrenaline until she felt light headed.
Ryder had stayed near the steps, letting her stand alone at the edge of the stage, taking it all in. She could feel his warmth at her back he was so close, yet he didn’t reach out to touch her. Her mind was screaming at her to run as far away as fast as possible. This was hard-core. She was in over her head and she didn’t particularly want to drown. Yet while her mind tried to reason through her options, her body had already begun heating up, ready for round two with the sex-god she’d been assigned.
“We have just about an hour left, Princess. What’s it gonna be? You brave enough to stick with me or you want to pack it in?”
She heard the challenge in his voice. He was goading her.
In the distance, she heard a guttural scream from one of her fellow submissives. The feminist in her should be rushing to the woman’s aid, but instead, she felt jealous. She didn’t have a clue how to reconcile the things she’d learned about herself in the last few hours. She suspected thinking about it all would consume her over the next few days. But now, she only had one hour. She didn’t know exactly what she wanted, but she knew what she didn’t want, and that was to go back to her hotel room, alone and regretting missing out on a final scene with her one-night Master.
It was as if he was in her brain, listening to her internal debate because within seconds of her silent decision, Ryder pulled her back into a hug with a condescending, “Good girl. Now stay.”
She watched him go to work, dragging what looked like a heavy-duty sawhorse from the other side of the rolling cabinet that she hadn’t been able to see before. From the open cabinet, he grabbed up a long length of white rope and a few other smaller items she couldn’t see before heading back in her direction.
Khloe shivered despite the club being extra warm.
She had no doubt that Ryder was a sadist, but watching him mentally prepare for the scene, his glare dominant, his lips a straight line, seemed oddly familiar. It wasn’t unlike how she prepared for an acting role. She relaxed slightly realizing in this scene, he might be in control, but she was the ultimate director. She could cry the BDSM version of ‘cut’, red, at any time if he pushed her too far.
When he had things ready for her, her silver fox crooked his finger in a sexy come hither motion. As her bare feet moved forward, she again felt like Little Red Riding hood being sucked into the wolf’s trap.
He twined their fingers together as he escorted her to the center of the platform where he’d left his supplies. He reached to grab what looked like leather cuffs before demanding, “Hold out your hands for me, baby.”
She complied and within two minutes, he had her wrists buckled into the tight-fitting restraints that were linked by a one-foot heavy-duty chain, thick enough to tow a car out of a snow bank. Only when he had her bound did he pull the remote control out of his back pocket. Within seconds a large metal hook started lowering from the ceiling above her until it stopped at eye level.
Ryder worked silently to connect the center of her chain to the hook and then start the hook’s ascension to the ceiling again. With each inch it moved up, Khloe’s pulse increased. There was a brief moment of panic when the hook had stretched her arms high that she worried he might raise it until her feet left the ground, but he stopped well before that.
Khloe didn’t expect him to pull a hairbrush
from his back pocket next, but he did. She caught his small smile at her surprise as he walked behind her. Like other times that night, Ryder jammed his hand into her signature hair and yanked her head back. He held her head immobile while she felt the hairbrush starting to yank through the knots that had formed during their adventure. Tears welled as sharp pangs of pain in her scalp warred with the ache of desire in her deepest core. He eventually gave up with the brush and just yanked her mane into one messy ponytail. She felt him tie rope around her hair, and then wrap the rope around the hook with her arms.
Only when the hook moved higher did she feel the tug against her head and arms warring for her attention. He stopped the mechanism just before she would have moved to her tippy-toes to keep contact with the floor.
With her immobilized, Ryder took a minute to step closer, letting his warm hand caress her taut body, laid out for him like a gift. He spent extra time pinching her still tender nipples until they protruded embarrassingly from her globes.
“No! Please!” She tried to pull away when she saw him pull a fresh set of nipple clamps from his pocket. The last pair had been agony. Her body couldn’t handle that again so soon.
“Shhh, Princess. These are much kinder. They’ll just give you an extra zing.”
Khloe was skeptical, but she settled down, letting the dominant pull her left tit away from her body first before letting the tweezer-like end latch onto her left tit. True to his word, he played with the tension until it was fastened just tight enough to stay attached before repeating on the other side.
She wasn’t surprised when the chain connecting the two ends was raised and attached to the same hook above her head, connecting her arms, hair, and tits in an erotic way.
She’d been standing facing the St. Andrew’s cross, but Ryder grabbed her hips, picking her up to temporarily relieve the pull on her arms, only to spin them around in a one-eighty that now had her facing the largest part of the crowd of spectators, once again following the famous movie star as if she were meant to be their personal live stage show.