BDSM Connections - The Complete 4 Novel Series

by Claire Thompson

  “How’re you doing?” he asked softly, looking into her eyes from behind his mask.

  “I’m good, Sir,” she answered, surprised to find this was true. She was better than good. In spite of her stinging flesh, her nudity, her position as the focus of so much attention—or no, because of it all—she was more aroused than she could remember being in her life. She had heard that submissives were natural exhibitionists, but she had never believed it of herself—until now.

  Sir Stephen nodded with a knowing smile. “Good. Now, lie on your back on the table. It’s time for the next Master to claim you.”

  The men helped her all the way up onto the table. Because it was so narrow, it barely accommodated her torso, leaving her legs dangling over the side. Someone slipped a cushion beneath her ass, forcing her pelvis upward. Master Zach came up behind her head, supporting it with his thighs so it didn’t hang over the other side. Reaching down, he placed the blindfold back over her eyes, plunging her into darkness. Hands pushed her thighs apart, while other hands took hold of her wrists, spreading her on the table in cruciform.

  She heard the unmistakable sound of a match striking its box. A moment later, though she had been half-expecting it, a splash of melted wax startled her as it landed on her right breast. It was followed by another drop, and then a series of droplets that fell with burning precision over both nipples. She jerked each time the searing liquid made contact.

  As the wax cooled and hardened on her breasts, she was again taken sharply by surprise by the sudden splash of heat against her shaven mons. Hands held her legs open as the wax streamed onto the delicate folds of her pussy. Shea jerked and cried out with each painful splatter.

  When the blindfold was finally removed, Shea lifted her head to see the red candle wax hardened in splashed patterns over her breasts and sex, Master Matt still holding the candle, though the flame had been extinguished.

  “Thank you, Master Matt,” she managed.

  He nodded, a smile lifting his lips.

  Sir Liam appeared next in front of her, the riding crop in his hand, his mouth lifted in a cruel smile. “We need to remove this wax for the next stage of your birthday celebration,” he said. “Nothing like a riding crop to get the job done.”

  Sir Liam struck her with the small, folded square of leather at the end of the long handle. He tapped at the wax at her breasts and, as it broke into pieces, other men picked and brushed them away.

  When the crop smacked against her now extremely tender cunt, it hurt more than the hot wax had, and Shea yelped with pain as she instinctively tried to slam her legs closed, but hands held them apart.

  “Courage,” Sir Stephen reminded her. “Take what we give you, S. It pleases us to see you suffer, sexy sub girl.”

  His words settled like a warm cloak over her shivering nerves, and Shea relaxed, breathing deeply as she flowed with the smacking beat of Sir Liam’s leather crop. Finally, it was over, and Shea managed to get out her thanks in a trembling voice.

  Master Zach now sat in front of her where she lay, splayed and exhausted on the table. On the other side of the narrow table, someone was still supporting her head. Sir Stephen moved to take their place. He stroked her hair back from her face as Master Zach said, “You’ve suffered well for us. Now we will reward you.”

  Shea moaned as Master Zach leaned over her and she felt the delicate, wet stroke of his tongue against her tender labia. His hands were on her thighs as he licked and kissed her throbbing sex. Her eyes fluttered shut, but opened when she heard the sound of a zipper. Above her, she saw that Sir Stephen had pulled his thick, erect cock from his pants.

  He stepped back so her head now hung off the side of the table. Holding his shaft, he touched the head to her lips, which Shea eagerly parted. As he slid his cock deep into her throat, Shea surrendered to his control, even as her body shuddered with pleasure from Master Zach’s skilled mouth and fingers at her sex.

  She wanted it to last forever, but the amazing foreplay of the evening, combined with the intense sensory overload of Sir Stephen’s cock down her throat and Master Zach’s mouth on her cunt, made that impossible. She tried to resist the rising orgasm that was cresting like a wave inside her, but it was already a lost battle. Her entire body was electrified, every nerve ending firing with a fierce, almost painful pleasure.

  Sir Stephen’s cock fell away from her lips and she began to pant. “Yes, that’s it, S,” her Master urged. “Come for us. Come for us all.”

  Gratefully, Shea let go of the last semblance of control and hurtled out over the abyss of pure, blinding, perfect sensation.

  When she came back to herself, Shea was cradled in Master Zach’s strong, comforting arms. Sir Stephen sat beside them, something in his hands. All the other subs were now in their Masters’ laps, and everyone had removed their masks. They were all smiling at her.

  “Here’s your last present, S,” Sir Stephen said as he held out a small gift-wrapped package. We had it specially commissioned just for you.”

  Commissioned! Shea’s eyes flew to the Leather Master. Had her guys had a collar made just for her? Maybe she’d wear it to work anyway—who cared what her boring, vanilla colleagues thought?

  She took the gift, her fingers trembling slightly with excitement as she plucked away the ribbon and tore the wrapping from the box. When she lifted the lid, she saw, not a leather collar, but a beautiful necklace made from links of soft, rose gold. “Oh,” she breathed as she lifted it from its bed of cotton. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Allie made it,” Master Zach said with a grin.

  “It’s part of my new line of everyday BDSM jewelry for when we’re out in the vanilla world,” Allie explained with a smile. “Just like the barrette I gave you, it’s not necessarily what it appears to be at first glance.”

  Intrigued, Shea looked more closely at the links of the chain. “They’re handcuff links,” she exclaimed exultantly. “How cool is that?”

  “That’s right,” Sir Stephen said, taking the chain from her and opening the clasp. “With this collar, Master Zach and I wish to formally claim you for our own. If you allow us to place this necklace around your throat, it’s your acceptance of our ownership over your body, heart and soul. And it also symbolizes our commitment to you as your Masters to protect and cherish you within the circle of our love.”

  As if in a dream, Shea slipped from Master Zach’s lap, his arms falling away as she lowered herself to the cushion between them. Kneeling up, she lifted her hair, which had completely escaped its barrette at some point in the evening, and lowered her head to indicate her acceptance.

  Sir Stephen placed the necklace around her neck, and Master Zach closed the clasp.

  Chapter 11

  “Picking up your better third today?” Tag asked one afternoon in late November.

  Steve laughed. “Yeah. We’ve been moping around for the past three days without her.”

  “Oh, better third, better half. I get it,” Zach said with a belated smile. It was true—since she left on a business trip for work, they’d hardly known what to do with themselves. Zach had suggested they go down to Hardcore but Steve hadn’t wanted to without Shea.

  Steve put down his tools and wiped his hands on a rag. “I guess I better get going, in case there’s traffic on the way to the airport.”

  Normally they would have gone together to pick her up, but Tag had asked that one of them stay and help him finish yet another deadline project, and Steve had won the coin toss. The business had really taken off since Rylee had helped the Leather Master establish an online presence. It was only a matter of time before he hired more leather workers.

  Steve turned to Zach. “See you at home?”

  Zach nodded. “Drive safe.”

  Tag and he continued to work in companionable silence at their respective worktables for a while. At length, Tag said, “So, how are things going with the three of you?”

  “Great,” Zach said automatically.

  Was it great?


  Mostly, yeah, it was pretty great.

  Shea had rapidly become an integral part of their lives, even assisting in the training of other subs. She brought a woman’s touch, and more especially, a sub’s perspective, to the sessions. Beyond that, there was something incredibly sexy about watching their sub girl prepare another woman for a scene—helping her strip, assume the proper positions, and even assisting in the actual training from time to time.

  Zach had never regretted collaring Shea that night at her birthday party. He had settled happily into a full-time role as Shea’s Master and lover, and the deep friendship he shared with Steve hadn’t been eroded by their new living arrangement, as he had feared it might.

  He had been a little worried, especially at first, that he would lose his autonomy, his very sense of self, once a girlfriend had been formally introduced in their midst, but things had worked out surprisingly well. They each had their own space, and, while more often than not the three of them ended up in Steve’s much larger master bedroom at night, from time to time Zach stayed in his own room, and Shea stayed in hers.

  Yet sometimes, especially on occasional times when the three of them had gone to sleep in their own beds but Zach had found Shea had slipped at some point in the night into Steve’s room, Zach had to admit he got a little jealous. At those times, he was reminded of why he had always avoided romantic relationships in the first place.

  He hated those feelings of jealousy in himself, which he saw as a weakness. He was better than that, he would tell himself when the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head. Shea and Steve deserved better.

  Zach realized Tag was staring at him in that brooding way he had, his head cocked slightly to one side. “Great, but…” Tag said, a quizzical smile on his face.

  “What?” Zach said defensively, hunching his shoulders and looking away. What was the guy, a mind reader?

  “Nothing. It’s just that I know what a hard time I had getting my head around a relationship with one person, much less two. I can only imagine the complications of a ménage. I mean”—he shrugged—“I would think sometimes one of you might feel like the odd guy out.”

  “Ha,” Zach said, the word bursting from his mouth like a punch. “It’s funny you say that. I mean, don’t get me wrong, things really are terrific between the three of us. And yeah, I’m the guy who always thought of relationship as a four-letter word, but somehow this thing really is working out great.” He looked away from Tag, suddenly embarrassed by the other man’s apparent scrutiny.

  “But…” Tag persisted.

  “Okay, yeah,” Zach admitted, no longer meeting Tag’s gaze. “Sometimes I think Shea and Steve might have more of an intense connection than I can manage, but that’s just because I’m such a relationship-phobe. They’re both really good about giving me space when I need it. It’s a terrific setup.”

  He was talking too fast, trying too hard to convince, but still he barreled on. “I figured out what’s different with Shea, compared to the other women I’ve been with. With past lovers, it was about getting my own satisfaction. I mean, I made sure they got what they needed, but in the end it was really about me.”

  He flashed a look at Tag, who nodded. “I hear you on that one.”

  “It’s like I had my life all split up into different parts. Lovers in one box, and then our trainees in another. That way I got to really let my need to dominate and control exert itself without worrying about all the responsibilities that go with being someone’s Dom. But with Shea, it’s been different. With Shea, with the three of us together, something has just kind of clicked, you know?”

  “I do know,” Tag said. “I’ve seen the three of you together, don’t forget. It’s like she’s the missing piece. The only reason I’m pressing is because I’ve been there and done that in the screw-up-relationships department, and I nearly lost Rylee in the process.”

  Zach was quiet for a long moment as he worked a leather sheath over the whip handle he had been honing. And yet…there it was, lurking just beneath the surface. In his heart of hearts, if he was brutally honest, Zach was afraid that the bond between Shea and Steve was stronger than what he himself was capable of. They knew how to trust on a deeper level, and it was that connection, more than anything, which he both longed for and feared.

  What was his problem? Everything was fine. Just fine.

  He looked up at Tag with a bright smile. “Nah,” he said. “Everything’s great.”

  Later that evening as they packed up their work tools, Taggart said, “I’m taking Rylee to Hardcore after we grab a quick bite. Maybe we’ll see you guys there.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Zach said noncommittally. “I’ll see what Steve and Shea think.”

  It was nearly eight o’clock by the time Zach got on the road. Barring horrible traffic, Steve would have probably beaten him home, but only just. Zach was excited to see Shea. Maybe they’d take her right down to the dungeon and put her through her paces, in case she had gotten rusty during her absence.

  He could already envision her naked and on her knees, her face upturned, her mouth open for his cock. He could imagine her suspended by her wrists, her arms spread wide over her head, her toes barely touching the ground. They would move in slow circles around her body, taking turns snapping their whips against her soft, supple skin. Steve would focus on her ass, while Zach lashed her luscious breasts with a single tail.

  Allie had just finished the nipple rings they’d commissioned, and they waited at home in a small, velvet box. Though Zach didn’t usually care much about jewelry, he had to admit these were really special—a pair of silver barbells, each with a delicate hanging chain on which was balanced a tiny ruby heart. They planned to give them to Shea that night to keep by her bedside until she was ready for her piercing.

  How ironic that Steve, the decidedly more sadistic of the two of them, had asked Zach to do the honors. Though Steve had no trouble whipping girls until they cried, or binding them in painful positions and subjecting them to intense erotic torture until they were begging for mercy, when it came to needles, the guy was a total wimp.

  Zach smiled indulgently at the thought of his friend’s squeamishness. The sight of blood never bothered Zach. Not that he planned to draw any blood, beyond a possible unavoidable drop at the piercing site. He had experience with body piercing, and had even tried his hand at it professionally for a while back in his early twenties when he was still finding his way.

  He smiled as he drove, recalling Shea’s near-obsession regarding the piercing the week before she’d left for her business trip as she ping-ponged between excitement and fear. He’d observed that particularly submissive reaction before.

  So much of BDSM was the sensual mind-fuck—letting the sub know what was going to happen to them later that hour, or day, or even week. Initial resistance or even outright refusal would slowly edge its way into a, “Maybe I can do that for my Master, but it won’t really be for me.”

  A good Master would give his sub the time she needed to come around. He’d planted the seed, and now he’d add water and sunlight. He would talk about the process, the procedure, and how it would please him, as well as satisfy her submissive needs, but he wouldn’t press, not too hard.

  She would begin to shift in her mind, waging her own internal battle. “He wants it, and yeah, it would be pretty hot. But can I really handle it? Will it hurt too much? What if I fail? What if I have to use my safeword?”

  This would slowly edge into, “Okay, he wants this for me, and he believes in me. He says I can handle this, and so I can. I will do this to please my Master.”

  Without her realizing it, the anticipation would begin to get the upper hand over the fear. She would start to think about it constantly. She would research it online, and talk with other subs who had undergone the same experience. It would take over her thoughts, whether she was at work, or bound in the dungeon, or beneath her lover’s body as he fucked her. After a while, she would no longer just be acceptin
g of what her Master wanted. She would crave it—she would beg for it, not just to please him, but to quench the burning fire now raging in her submissive soul.

  Then, and only then, was she truly ready to submit.

  The garage door was open, and Zach pulled in alongside Steve’s car, cut the engine and climbed out, excited to see their sub girl after so many days apart. He opened the door to the house and entered the kitchen. No one was there.

  “Hello?” he called as he made his way toward the living room.

  Then he saw them.

  Steve had Shea pinned against the wall by her wrists. His head was lowered to hers and it was clear they were kissing. Her suitcase and purse were on the floor beside them, the suitcase on its side as if it had been flung there in their haste to get at each other.

  As Zach stood, frozen in place, Steve let go of Shea’s arms, which she wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. He reached beneath her, lifting her into his arms as her legs came up around his waist. Through it all, they remained locked in a passionate kiss.

  The kiss went on and on, as if the pair were long-lost lovers, as if nothing else—no one else—mattered, or ever had mattered.

  “Fuck,” Zach whispered. The jealousy he’d managed to keep tamped down for so long suddenly opened its slobbering, gaping jaws and sank its sharp teeth into Zach’s heart.

  Tag was right—two was hard enough, but three? Yes, he’d sworn to cherish and protect Shea, but she already had one Master, the one who held her now in his arms. She didn’t need two. Neither of them needed him. He was superfluous, an extra, the third wheel.

  Silently, he backed out of the room, his keys still in his hand. He opened the door to the garage, hesitating a moment on the threshold. He could turn around and call out in a loud voice that he was home, and then pretend everything was hunky dory.

  Or he could leave.

  After all, it wasn’t as if the three of them were joined at the hip.