BDSM Mega Boxed Set

by Anita Lawless, C. J. Sneere, Roxxy Meyer

  Before we can say much else, the paramedics arrive and take Gina to the hospital. Looking at the clock above David’s desk, I note I won’t be getting much sleep before my first class this morning, but concern over Gina makes that the least of my worries. Worry over her and my sister will make it hard to focus on any of my lectures today.

  ***

  I feel like a zombie through most of my classes, and my thoughts keep drifting to Gina and Sasha and worrying over their fate. After my third class, I use the prepaid cell phone Damien gave me to call him and see if there’s been any updates on Gina.

  “They just moved her out of ICU,” he tells me, sounding as relieved as I feel.

  “Do you think it’d be all right if I pop by and see her tonight?”

  “I’d love to tell you yes, but I think we should steer clear. We just can’t be sure about David’s involvement still, and he could be watching the room.”

  “Any idea when she’ll be out?”

  “Not yet, but if I know Gina she’ll walk out of that place if they try and keep her for more than three days.”

  “So what’s our next move then?” I check my watch only to find I’ve ten minutes to get to my world history class.

  “I’m going to talk to Dmitri and another contact I have inside the Dollhouse Society. Between the four of us, we’ll come up with a plan.”

  “Sounds good. Keep me posted. And thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, Ophelia.”

  There’s a tenderness in his voice that does odd things to my heart. He has an effect on me that’s growing stronger each time we’re together and I’m not comfortable with the development. Why do my emotions have to go against my logic?

  No time to ponder this right now, though. I need to get to my class and push all distracting thoughts from my head. Easier said than done.

  The next few days seem to crawl by, and I feel like I’m only half there through most of my classes. Neither Damien or I have received any more calls from Sasha, and while Gina has been let out of the hospital she isn’t yet ready to get back to the investigations, despite her protests we’re babying her.

  So Damien has enlisted extra help from one of the board members who owns Surrender, this exclusive sex club / resort franchise he and my sister worked for. A franchise that caters to elites with esoteric appetites and anyone who can pay their entry price, plus prove their sexual and mental health. And as another weekend draws near, he phones to inform me we have a meeting with this board member, a Dmitri Nichvalodov, as well as with a Devon Grayson, the member of another secret organization known as the Dollhouse Society. We’re going to team up on a plan to ferret out the kidnapper and bring my sister home. Though Dmitri has already been investigating this matter with other Surrender top echelon, they now want to take the investigation in a different direction.

  I’ve also been avoiding poor Terry, my best friend, since she got back from her camping trip. After my last class on Thursday, I meet her at our favorite coffee shop. My stomach’s in knots as I plan ways to avoid her questions. Terry is a vivacious brunette who doesn’t give up on a subject easily once she sinks her teeth into it.

  “So who’s the guy?”

  She grins at me as I look up from my loose tea. I realize I’m been watching tea leaves float to the bottom of my cup for the last few minutes. When I take a sip, the steaming brew has already gone tepid.

  “There’s no guy. Just … stressed over my paper for classic archaeology.”

  No, that’s a different look.”

  I give her a curious frown.

  “When you’re stressed over school. That’s a different look. But this one? You wore that same expression for a week when you met Jeremy.”

  The memory of my brief fling with a college basketball star makes me cringe. Jeremy and I were like oil and water, and when the sex fizzled out we realized just how wrong we were for each other. “Please, don’t remind me about him. No, it’s nothing like that, really. Just school.”

  She shakes a well manicured finger at me. “I don’t believe you. But I’ll let it go. Whoever he is, he better be worth it though. You haven’t heard a word of the juicy gossip I’ve been spilling.”

  I force a laugh at this. “I’ll try and pay attention better.”

  I hate keeping such huge secrets from Terry, but as Damien and I discussed it’s better that less people know the truth right now. With Drake sniffing around the campus, there is no way to tell who might be keeping an eye on me for him. A careless word spilled to the wrong person could blow our careful operation, and while Terry is a wonderful person she can’t keep a secret to save her life.

  So I work hard to focus as she tells me all about Regina Barker’s affair with our history teacher. But thoughts of my sister and Gina keep trying to force their way in, and other thoughts that, in some ways, disturb me even more. The thought of Damien’s hands on my body, caressing, stroking, cherishing me. The thought of his cock inside me and the ecstasy I felt last night. And I realize, despite my hard work to resist the man’s charms, I want to scene with him again. Want to make love with him again.

  When I take a sip of my tea, I almost choke as this truth hits me full force. I knew spending time with him would be dangerous. Dangerous to my heart as well as my health.

  ***

  Damien arrives at the dorm Friday night to pick me up for our meeting and I don’t want to look at him. Especially after what we did last time we were together. I’ve played the scenes over and over in my head, masturbated too many times to count to the memory of him whipping me then fucking me. My face feels scalded from the blush that creeps up to my hairline.

  “Are you all right?” he asks after I put my seatbelt on. “You’re awfully quiet.” Then to make matters worse he puts his hand on my knee, leans closer, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. We’ll find Sasha before Sunday. I guarantee it. And whoever has her will pay big time. I promise.”

  My whole body tingles and grows warm from his touch. I want to move his hand away, but I don’t. The comforting gesture, the security and intimacy, is just what I want right now. I hate myself for being so weak.

  “I’m fine,” I tell him. “I just had a lot of papers to hand in this week. Big time cramming at the library has made me really tired.”

  He accepts this, but the way he continues to stare at me as he turns the key in the ignition tells me he’s not convinced. And there’s too much compassion in those brilliant blue eyes, too much kindness. Why can’t he be the arrogant asshole I remember and make this so much easier on me?

  “Ready to go?” he says.

  “Ready.” I stifle a sigh and try to keep my chaotic mind under control.

  As we pull off the campus grounds, I turn to him and blurt, “Why did you and Sasha break up?”

  His face sags under the weight of sadness. “We spent too much time together. Working and living with one another 24 /7. I think it eventually killed our relationship. Sasha felt like she didn’t have enough breathing space, and I understood that. We’re still good friends, but that something special—that spark—just kind of dried up over time.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  He glances away from the road to gaze at me. The sadness still lingers on his face. “I’ll always love her. We spent three years barely out of each other’s sight. But loves changes sometimes. Our love did and we’ve both moved on.”

  But I wonder. Will my sister and Damien reunite after she returns? Maybe he’ll tell her he wants her back, and maybe she’ll want him back. Though it’s a terribly selfish thought, I hope they don’t rekindle their romance. I try to picture Damien with Sasha and a surge of jealousy sours my stomach. What’s happening to me? I’m losing my head over a guy I used to hate and right when my sister’s life is in danger. Right now I wish I could bolt from the car. Run and get some breathing space, but there’s no chance of that. Instead I push my conflicting thoughts to the back of my brain and refuse to acknowledge them. I focus on a vi
sion of my sister’s face and try not to look at Damien for the remainder of the ride to our meeting.

  Our trip takes us into the richest part of the city, and eventually we stop at a very expensive, exclusive business district. A doorman buzzes us in and we take an elevator up to the office of Dmitri Nichvaldov.

  Inside the lavish office filled with polished wood and leather, a blond man with model good looks sits near one side of a massive oak desk that appears to be antique. Behind the desk sits a bear of a man with a long, blue-black braid trailing down his back. I thought Damien was intimidating, but these two men ooze an air of power and confidence that would render a more timid woman speechless. As it is I fumble my hello to them both when Damien introduces me.

  Devon takes my hand and kisses it. “Charmed, my dear.”

  His big friend, whose face clearly shows his Russian heritage, smirks at him. “Please, Ophelia, have a seat.” My hand disappears in his when he shakes it.

  Then the mood in the room gets extra serious. Dmitri pulls some folders from a drawer in his massive desk.

  “We’d like to try a different tactic inside Sasha’s Surrender resort this weekend.” He crosses his hands atop the folders. “We think the woman who shot Gina will be at the Surrender Spring Ball scheduled to happen there tomorrow night.” He taps the folders under his beefy paws. “We also believe Drake and David could attempt to get in. In fact, we’re loosening security because of it.”

  “Loosening security?” My gaze ping pongs between the three men.

  “Yes,” Devon speaks, his voice like warm honey. “We want them to walk right into our trap. Which brings us to your part in this plan.”

  My palms start to sweat and I look at Damien.

  “We need you to do one last performance,” he says. “At the Surrender Spring Ball tomorrow night. But this time it’ll be a masked event, so you’ll be a bit more anonymous.”

  “I’ll do it,” I say.

  Damien’s eyes grow wide in surprise over my quick answer. “This will be the last time, I promise. And you can keep your costume on if you choose.”

  I nod. “That’s fine.”

  His eyebrows rise. “You’re sure?”

  “Completely.”

  My lack of hesitation obviously continues to shock him, but I offer no further explanation before Dmitri opens the folders to show me the latest development in this case. I won’t tell Damien I’m looking forward to this performance, looking forward to his hands caressing my skin, his lips on mine. And what I really won’t tell him is I’m disappointed it will be our final time together.

  ***

  We pull up to the wrought iron gates of the Surrender resort and I take Damien’s hand in mine. Tonight, with a full moon hovering overhead, the gothic stone mansion looks a bit eerie. The foreboding atmosphere matches my mood of apprehension. Tonight is crunch time. We haven’t received another call from Sasha and I know we’re both worried about her fate.

  “You okay?” Damien gives me a concerned look that warms my heart.

  “I’ll be fine,” I say, knowing that I’ll never be the same after this time spent with him.

  Sure he’s arrogant, smug, but being close to him while trying to help Sasha has shown me another side to Damien Walters. A compassionate side I didn’t think he had. As the layers of his personality have been revealed to me, I’ve found it hard not to like the man. Maybe even love him.

  Love in less than a month? You’re being foolish, Ophelia! Get a grip.

  Inside the resort I spot Dmitri and Devon, who’ve come tonight as well to help us with this investigation. They’re wearing leather BDSM gear and masks, but I still recognize their powerful presences and impressive physiques.

  People mill about the huge foyer in leather, latex cat suits, corsets, fishnet stockings. Some participants wear feathered masks, others wear ones that depict jesters, and some wear ones that depict a glittery feline face.

  Damien leads me to a change room where we get dressed for our performance. He wears tight leather shorts and I choose a pink and black Merry Widow with matching thong and fishnet stockings.

  Damien raises his eyebrows at my choice. “You’re going to be exposed in that.”

  I simply smile. “That’s fine.”

  He frowns and places a warm hand between my shoulders. “Is everything okay, Ophelia?”

  I soak in his touch, knowing it will be one of the last times I feel his hands on my skin. “I’m fine.”

  “You seem a bit sad. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

  I shake my head and stare into those beautiful blue eyes. “I just want my sister home. That’s all.” I take his hand and lace my fingers with his.

  “All right. I believe you.” He smiles, but still doesn’t look convinced. Then he places a gentle kiss to my forehead before we change.

  He leads me to a room at the end of a long hall lined with doorways. Inside is a sprawling area that reminds me of last winter when Terry and I went to see The Nutcracker at Hammond Theater. Red velvet seats line either side of a black aisle. And every seat is filled with a masked spectator. I close my eyes and swallow hard, trying to quell the panic burning in my chest.

  We walk from backstage to the main platform and Damien signals a man to open the crimson curtains. On the stage stands a gleaming structure that reminds me of a giant loom with royal blue rope dangling from it. Damien tells me the rope is made from hemp, which is better since there is less chafing.

  “Exactly what do you plan to do with me and that rope?” I whisper as he guides me toward the apparatus and between the braids of hemp.

  “I’m going to bind you in the center of this.” He taps one silver leg of the giant loom. “Then we’re going to do some orgasm denial play. Remember? We agreed to this in Dmitri’s office.”

  I nod, but I had other things on my mind at that moment. Particularly a naughty fantasy about all three doms, but I don’t tell Damien that.

  “If you aren’t comfortable with what I’m doing, you can always use our safe word.” Damien’s rock hard chest brushes against my back as he picks up one strand of rope.

  I breathe deep, look out at the sea of faces, and am thankful for the mask obscuring my identity. Still a sharp spike of anxiety zips from my stomach to my brain, seems to squeeze my head in a fierce grip of panic. But I keep breathing and remind myself they don’t know who I am. Not really.

  To help calm my nerves further, I focus on Damien’s touch as he loops the first rope between my legs. It doesn’t help my nerves when his fingers and the fibers press tight against the flimsy front of my thong. The material abrades my already tingling clit and his hand flits ever so lightly against it as he fashions knots that intertwine. I have to bite my lip to keep from sighing, for I’m not allowed to make any noise of pleasure until my dom allows it.

  Everywhere he touches me feels on fire. His fingers move in a flurry as he adds more ropes and connects more knots. As he does so, he tells me that the ropes and knots are tied in such a way to accentuate the beauty of my body, and to hit pressure points that will keep me calm, soothe me through the process. Dmitri apparently taught him about these rope art techniques that are a part of Kinbaku—a form of Japanese bondage.

  He binds my ankles and lifts them to tie to part of the silver structure the ropes dangle from. I hiss in pain now as my body contorts and my back is bent deep. My dom moves to my face, a look of concern knitting his brow as he ask if I want to use our safe word. Briefly I think about it, but I don’t want to disappoint him. The realization stirs odd emotions in me, so I quickly remind myself backing out could hurt my sister, too. I don’t want to acknowledge now much I’m also doing this for mine and Damien’s pleasure. Pleasing him somehow pleases me.

  So I sustain the discomfort this position puts me in, but as I relax and go deeper inward the pain starts to melt away. It’s just a vague pressure where the ropes rub my skin. Suspended above the floor and slightly swaying I find to be a soothing, almost meditation pos
e after a while.

  The crowd watches. Some lean close and whisper to one another. Some give light applause.

  His hands sweeps over my ass, my back. They skim over my shoulders and down my arms as he weaves an intricate network of crisscrossed ropes and complex knots. My whole body now throbs with desire for him. His touch both relaxes me and makes me hyperaware of my lust. When he loops another rope between my legs and presses it into my pussy, I almost let out a loud groan.

  “Now we’re going to do some sensation play,” Damien tells our audience as I swing from my bonds. He goes to a table filled with instruments of sexual torment and selects a simple candle. My heart speeds up and I bite my lip, remembering more of what I’ve agreed to, what I asked for.

  I told him I wanted to test myself with flame. He cautioned against it, saying being a beginner I should keep it light and slow. We finally agreed on a bit of play with the candle, but no prolonged contact with the intense heat, which suits me and my comfort level.

  He lights the wick and blood pounds in my ears as he walks closer. Damien also warned against this since we’re engaging in rope play, and since rope is flammable we have to be very careful. But I know his hands work with precision and I trust him completely.

  I hold my breath as he sweeps the candle flame under one nipple, no more than an inch from the taut bud. The warmth is pleasant then searing as he brings it a bit closer. My nipple throbs as it hardens further. My pussy tightens and tingles from the flood of sensation. I hiss air through my teeth and he draws the candle away, now teasing the other nipple with the intense heat, just enough to test and titillate me but not enough to really burn me.

  He moves down my body, tormenting patches of skin with the small wick of fire, but careful to always avoid the network of ropes. I start to squirm in my bondage and whimper from the pain, so he takes the candle away. When he returns, I receive five hard whacks from a cane for my outburst. I grit my teeth hard so I don’t cry out as sharp pain stings my cheeks, heightening my challenge and my desire.