by J. S. Luxor
I couldn’t help noticing how few women were at the Eagle. What really surprised me were the number of shirtless men and muscular dudes wearing leather who got moving on the dance floor. Before long, Marissa disappeared to search for some hidden rooms that supposedly featured BDSM scenes. I have no interest in such sexual outlets. I retreated to the bar area to rest after our exertions on the floor.
As I recline against the bar, a very masculine looking fellow with a beard, leather vest and muscular physique approaches me with a smile.
“You dance really well,” he comments. “I saw you moving well to “Firework” out there.”
“Thanks! I needed to work some tension off out there. The latest techno beats get me motivated,” I admit.
“Are you here with anyone?” he quizzes me with a twinkle in his eye.
“Well, I came with a date but she seems to have wandered off looking for some excitement,” I add with a dismissive scowl. “Apparently I’m too much of a fuddy-duddy for her.”
“She’s a fool, then…By the way, I’m Jim,” he says and shakes my hand firmly. His eyes crinkle with enthusiasm. “Have you been to the Eagle before?”
“Michael,” I add, “and no it’s a first, though I’ve lived near or in Atlanta most of my life.”
“So, you’re just exploring the underbelly of Atlanta this evening?” he queries with real interest.
“I should know everything there is to know about Atlanta,” I boast, “since I’m heavily involved in real estate both here and throughout the country.”
“Really?” he’s asks with fascination. Then the conversation flows. It turns out that Jim is a building contractor in the single family housing sector. We talk about a variety of issues affecting the real estate market in the area. The drinks flow and the music pulses as time just slips away. What a nice fellow.
Marissa returns eventually and the three of us head to the dance floor for more action. Jim’s a handsome thirty-something rather hairy-looking southerner from New Orleans. Marissa seems to enjoy his energy as well. Toward early morning, I’m feeling the effects of the drinks, dancing and my age. Marissa offers to drive us home and I’m more than happy to give her my keys. I nearly stumble out of the Eagle. I’m grateful that Jim is helping me navigate toward my Mercedes.
When I awaken in my king-sized bed the next morning, I’ve got the hangover from hell. Marissa is draped over my chest and looks as green as I feel. To my surprise, Jim’s fast asleep on the other side of Marissa. What the hell! I slowly rise off the mattress and look around. There’s a cane and a whip near the side of the bed that Jim sleeps on. Marissa and Jim are quite naked and both of them have red lash marks on their backs and legs. Holy hell. What went on here last night?
I make my way to the toilet and vomit up most of last evening’s toxic ingredients. I look over my body but don’t notice any obvious signs of abuse. I remember nothing after I climbed into the car. Apparently, Jim and Marissa had fun with their implements of pleasure while I was passed out. I’m not pleased that Jim spent the night in my bed nor that he and Marissa had some type of kinky encounter. I guess I’ll discover the story when they awaken. In the meantime, I take a quick shower and head to the kitchen for coffee. As it turns out, I’m feeling quite sore and even a bit out of sorts this morning.
Marissa makes her way to the fridge about an hour later. She’s so hung over that she nearly collides with the stainless steel door of my Subzero. She located the orange juice and pours herself a large glass. Then she stumbles over to the dinette area, where I’m seated and reading the paper on the IPad.
“Do you want to tell me why Jim’s passed out on my bed, upstairs?”
“He drank too much,” she mumbles.
“Well, that’s obvious Marissa. But, did you invite him to spend the night with us?”
“He told me that you invited him to come home with us,” she smirks. “Don’t look at me, Michael. I’m just going along with the program.”
“What program?” I spit out with revulsion. I most certainly did not ask Jim to spend the night, or did I?
“The bi-sexual stuff…you know,” she admits then trails off as she takes a sip of very hot coffee.
“What?” I ask with alarm although I can’t shout as I’d like to do because of my pounding headache.
“Jim’s really skilled with the whip and cane you see,” she states with growing enthusiasm.
“Just explain to me exactly why you’ve got lash marks all over your body this morning,” I demand as I stand to get some toast. My nauseated stomach needs to keep something down or I’ll get weaker than I already feel.
“From what I can recall, all three of us had some hot sex last night,” she explains with a giggle. “Jim played Pappa Bear. Whenever you misbehaved, he smacked me lightly with the whip. It was the most turned on I’ve been in weeks.”
My world tilts on its axis as Marissa describes various scenarios from our evening of decadence. I’m sick with dismay at the story she shares with me in the light of day.
“How did I misbehave?” I growl with growing anxiety.
“Jim ordered you to perform certain acts on his body but you didn’t do them to his satisfaction,” she explains as though speaking to a child.
“What sort of acts were these Marissa?” I’m more than irritated as she reveals the details. Imagine me groveling to that hairy creature in my bed.
“I seem to remember that he wanted you to suck his toy,” she whispers in a conspiratorial tone.
“And I wouldn’t do it?” I ask with growing horror in my tone. The blood in my veins has suddenly turned to ice. I’m tingling with shock and anxiety.
“Well, you tried but didn’t really have the right technique,” she admits in a hoarse voice.
“What the fuck? I was sucking his dick?” I ask with absolute shock. I’ve never had any desire for sex with a man and I’m not the one to be sucking up to another person. They’re typically sucking my dick or kissing my ass.
“I had to do it for you. First, Jim whipped me because of your lack of skill,” she oozes with growing enthusiasm.
“It seems as though you enjoyed being whipped,” I comment with disapproval.
“It was so sexy since he used the lightest touch and the feeling went right to my crotch,” she admits with a strange glow in her eyes.
“So you gave Jim a blow job, while I watched?” I ask as I try to recall the encounter. An image of Marissa and Jim engaged in some sort of sexual act finally comes to mind.
“Well you passed out just after Jim gave you the slam,” she admits with a wry twist to her mouth.
“The slam. What the hell does that mean?” I insist and note that my anus feels sore.
“He gave it to you in the arse, you know,” she chuckles in a naughty way. “He said he’d cane you if you didn’t cooperate. You were very well behaved after that threat.”
“And that’s what the cane was used for last night?” I cringe with embarrassment as I imagine the scene.
“It was so much fun playing with Pappa Bear last night. He made us both kneel down while he poked us with the cane,” she adds with a laugh and covers her nose with her hand.
“Where did he poke us, Marissa?” I quiz her again. I’m sick to my stomach at what I did while I was inebriated.
“On our butts,” she giggles. “I practically came right then and there.”
“Then, this is what gets you turned on Marissa? You like getting whipped, caned and ordered around during sex?”
“Oh, yes, Michael. Can we try it again tonight? Jim said he’d stay over again and train you if you’d like to try some more.”
“I don’t think I have any interest in being whipped, caned or being ordered about by Jim or anyone else for that matter,” I announce with venom. Marissa’s become someone I hardly recognize this morning.
“Are you sure? You certainly didn’t seem that way last night. You were so active and needy.”
“Have you ever done this sor
t of thing before Marissa?” I ask with a growing realization.
“Of yes, many times. I was very active as a sub, in Portland,” she announces with evident pride.
“What does that mean, exactly?” I ask with a sinking feeling in my gut.
“That I take orders from a Dom. That would be the person who demands certain sexual acts from me. If I don’t perform them well I get punished,” she mumbles with pleasure as she slurps down more coffee.
“Did you recently meet with your Dom when we visited Portland, Marissa?” I inquire as I put the pieces together.
“Yes, Michael, I met with my Master in Portland,” she smiles with satisfaction at the memory.
Now I know why she’s been so strange about sex lately. “And, what did your Master tell you to do?” I ask with sarcasm.
“To train you to be a Dom. You’re to use the belt and whip on me when we fuck,” she reveals with a glint in her eyes.
“Can you tell me who your Dom is then?” I ask in a sly way.
“Oh no, that would never happen. I can’t reveal my Dom,” she asserts with sudden clarity. A look of fear consumes her face.
“I can guess who your Dom might be,” I state and think of Jillian Kitner. She’s a hard-ass bitch if there ever was one.
“No, I can’t tell you that. I’m bound by a legal document,” Marissa assures me.
Just as I’m about to press my case further, Jim saunters into the kitchen wearing his leather vest and a towel around his waist. I scowl at him as he enters the room.
“Morning, Michael. I guess we had a very long night. But it sure was fun!” he announces and heads toward the coffee pot.
“I wouldn’t know, Jim, since I hardly have any memory of it,” I say with disgust.
“Just call me Pappa Bear. You can be the Bear Cub,” he says with a seductive smile while scratching the hair on his chest. Then he turns to Marissa, “What’s for breakfast, wench?”
She stares into his eyes with growing sexual desire. “Eggs and bacon, sir?”
“Good answer,” he asserts as he cracks the whip on the floor of my kitchen.
When I hear the whip, I feel myself harden with desire. What the hell is happening to me?
Chapter Six – Frazier Clan
MEGAN'S POV
Matt's really enjoying my newly expanded repertoire in the Spanking Room. I've actually renamed the room and Matt is thrilled with its new status in our lives. His enthusiasm in that space knows few bounds these days. We're having the most incredible sex once my spankings are concluded.
Somehow the spankings help me feel cleansed from the baggage of the past. Perhaps they help Matt come to terms with the way I broke him when I went in search of myself. Whatever it is, he's like the energizer bunny and I love it.
My next challenge will come tonight when we announce our engagement to the Frazier Clan. Roger's been good about trusting me and welcoming me back into the group but that's because he'd do anything for Julia. His mother and I were once quite close but she's kept a low profile since I've returned to town. I'm sure she feels mixed about my reappearance in Matt's life.
Matt's parents are pleased but cautious about me. They want Matt to be happy and they know he's only satisfied when I'm in his arms. They think I'm too unpredictable but they don't know the new Megan Pine. I have to prove myself to them and tonight is ShowTime. I take a deep breath and remind myself of my most recent sessions with my therapist, Dr. Ginger.
"Megan, I can see profound changes in the way you think and handle your emotional states. You’re becoming much more flexible and capable of responding to Matt's moods and needs. You’ll make him a happy man for years to come," she assures me after I relay the story of my spankings in the Sex Room.
I hum happily in the closet as I dress for the confrontation. I decide on a rather prim but form fitting sheath dress in a hue of dark blue that emphasizes my porcelain skin and large blue eyes. I slip on a pair of flats and wear my hair down with a headband to keep it under control. When I emerge from the closet, Matt growls his approval.
"You look good enough to eat and kiss and swat and suck…," he begins as I join him in the hallway and then he pets my buttocks. He’s insatiable.
"Not now," I assert with a wink, "I've got my game face on and I need to focus on convincing your family that I'm back for good."
"The only person you had to convince was me, and I'm on board," he assures me and gives me a soft kiss on the head.
"Well, since we're engaged now I think we need to consider that I'm also marrying your family. One day they’ll be grandparents, aunts and uncles and a big source of support for us," I remind him. We’re not always going to be young lovers and things will change. But, Matt refuses to consider that we’re very likely going to reproduce one day.
Matt throws his hands in the air, "OK, OK, I know and agree. You've convinced me."
"That's an issue that I worked on with Dr. Ginger because of all the broken family connections that Abby created for me. I'm determined to avoid her approach to the extended family issues. I've too many quasi-grandparents out there to count and none of them really took hold for long," I explain in an emotional tone of voice. “Our children will always have the same two parents as far as I’m concerned.”
“My poor broken angel. I’m not the type to ever want a divorce. Besides I’ll never get enough of you, Megan,” he reflects and holds his arms out to me. I fall into them with pleasure.
“I’m much less broken now that we’re together and happy,” I admit and kiss his gorgeous face.
“That makes two of us, baby. Are you nearly ready to schmooze with the family, baby?”
“It’s now or never, so yes,” I nod.
On the drive to Matt’s parents’ home he mentions that Jillian called. I always cringe when I hear her name but she’s a necessary evil for now.
“What did Jillian want to discuss?” I ask in an irritated tone of voice.
“Something that had rather unintended consequences but actually sounds promising for both of us,” he says with hope and gives me a kiss on my nose.
“What that Marissa and Michael are now engaged?” I ask with sarcasm dripping from every word.
He snorts and continues, “That Marissa has found herself a very virile and manly man.”
“You are kidding! She’s left Michael?” I ask with shock. My body begins to tremble at the thought that Michael might come back for me after all.
“Well, it’s more complicated than that Megan,” Matt admits and then smiles in a sexy but boyish manner.
“Tell me more, sir,” I prod while picking up on the cue.
“Apparently, Marissa and Michael met a bear at a BDSM and gay bar in Atlanta,” he begins. “He’s got Marissa wrapped around his tool and now he’s training Michael in the ways of the Dom.”
“That’s great to know about Marissa but I can’t see Michael in training to become a Dom!” I’m nearly incredulous at the idea.
“According to Jillian, Michael’s been using the whip to bring Marissa to heel and she’s loving it as well as having kinky sex with this bear fellow called Jim,” Matt explains with a smirk on his face.
“Are you giving yourself credit for this transformation in our former lovers?” I taunt him with a relieved look on my face.
“Not directly. No one could have foreseen a threesome forming nor that Jim would appeal to both Marissa and Michael in different ways.”
I burst out laughing. “I guess I can see Michael using a whip. Let’s just hope Marissa, Michael and Jim can form a lasting bond.”
Matt grabs my hand and kisses it. “All I can tell you is that we’re off the hook with both of our ghosts from the past for now.”
I squeal with delight. “That’s the best news I’ve heard today and it puts me in a great mood for confronting your parents about the fact that I truly love you.”
“I’m so glad that my news has cheered you. I was afraid that you’d be upset about Michael,” he admits with
a smile.
“I’m glad we’ve been able to distract Michael from his evil schemes for me and mine,” I conclude as we reach the Frazier home.
Joanna, Matt’s mother, answers the door and greets us warmly. She even pulls me in for a tight hug. That gesture alone puts me in a much more comfortable place. “Come on in, kids,” she jokes and indicates that we’re to head toward the great room.