by Lori King
Mistress Hedonism
A Fetish & Fantasy Short Story
Lori King
Text Copyright © September 2014 Lori King
Art and Logo © Copyright Lori King Books
All rights reserved.
Edited by: Ekatarina Sayanova
Red Quill Editing, LLC
Artwork by: Jess Buffett
Jess Buffett Graphic Designs
Published by: Lori King Books
EBooks are not transferrable.
This book is intended for the purchaser’s sole use. Sharing, or downloading to other individuals or devices is illegal.
This work is fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is purely coincidental. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Blurb
Ana Gregory and her submissive Foster Craft are happy together. They enjoy a relationship that indulges their hedonistic desires, as well as gives them the security of a partner in real life. Until another submissive shines a light on the cracks in their foundation by asking to join their pairing.
Foster’s in love with Ana, and he would do anything to please her, but sleeping with a man who hurt them both is a huge test of trust; even if he wants the man in question, with every fiber of his being.
Four months ago Wyatt Marks made a huge mistake, but it brought him to some life-changing realizations. Now he has the opportunity to right his wrongs with Ana and Foster, as well as indulge the secret fantasies he’s hidden from himself all his life.
When the triad comes together the fires are hot, but will they all get burned in the process? Or will this one night of pleasure fulfill a lifetime of fantasies for all of them?
Warning: Adult Themes-For Mature Audiences. Contains language and actions some may deem offensive. Sexually explicit content. F/M/M, graphic language, consensual BDSM, spanking, public sex, M/M intercourse, HEA
Dedication
For the other Rebels.
It’s a long road, but it’s worth it.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Also By Lori King
About Lori King
Chapter 1
Hedonism: the ethical theory that pleasure (in the sense of the satisfaction of desires) is the highest good and proper aim of human life.
“Mistress! Mistress Ana! Do you know where Master Killian is?”
Foster Craft and his girlfriend, Analise Gregory, turned simultaneously to face the frantic submissive headed their way. Natasha looked like the whole world was falling down around her ears, as she slid to an abrupt stop in front of Ana’s booted feet. Her shoulder length red hair was slipping free of the braided pigtails she wore, and her normally pale white cheeks were flushed bright pink with anxiety.
Noting that she didn’t drop her eyes away from Ana’s, Foster frowned at the lack of respect. It was very unusual for the naturally submissive girl, so things must be dire for her to act so rudely. In her panicked state, Natasha didn’t even seem to register their reactions.
“I need to find Master Killian, and quickly. There’s a problem!” she rambled on, pressing her hand to her chest as though to keep her heart inside.
“Yes, Tasha, I can plainly see by your behavior that something is amiss. What’s happened?” Ana sighed, and crossed her arms over her pert breasts. He knew that both nipples were currently poking into her corset, because he’d just been sucking on them in the car on the ride here. His mistress had naturally shaped B-cup breasts with large fat nipples that tasted like heaven on his tongue. Wiping the rakish grin from his face, Foster turned his attention back to the woman addressing them.
“And none of Master Killian’s normal house staff are available to handle the problem?” Ana was asking. He hated seeing her have to right the wrongs of the world immediately upon crossing the threshold of Killian’s house. She’d been so relaxed and playful as they got ready for the party this evening, but now her spine was stiff, and her jaw flexed with tension.
“No, Mistress. If you recall Master Killian allows them the night off when a party is taking place. The gardener left several hours ago according to Maria who was here setting up all day. “If we don’t remove it, the hot tub will be non-functional for the night.”
Ana nodded, “Yes, I can see how it would cause a problem.” She chewed on her bottom lip as she always did when thinking hard on something. Foster watched closely even though he had no idea what exactly the problem was. He just looked forward to the look of determination and confidence that would grace her face when she found a solution.
“Ana?” All three of them turned to face Ashton Reid as he marched their direction with a scowl on his handsome face. Ashton frowning was another unusual occurrence. The six foot four inch tall muscular man was a playboy through and through, and he rarely took anything seriously. Foster was tempted to grab Ana’s arm and walk her back out to the car, because surely hell was freezing over as they stood here chatting. “The DJ seems to have forgotten the extra power strip that he needs for his set up. He said he’ll have to go back to his place for it if we can’t find a substitute, and he lives a half hour away. If you want my opinion, we should just let him go, he’s a right bastard—trust me—but I figured the guests would be bummed if there wasn’t a DJ tonight. What do you want me to do?”
Ana sighed with frustration, and tapped the toe of her booted foot. “Where is Killian?”
“I believe he’s in his office, but there are bracelets on the doorknob.” Ashton said with a little smirk at the implication of what their host was doing in his office. Bracelets on a doorknob was code for “Do not Disturb” at a Lusty Fantasies party.
“Okay, I’m pretty sure I know where an extension cord is in the garage, so I’ll go with you, Ashton. Foster, I know this isn’t in your normal realm of duties, but we weren’t going to play until after dinner anyway. Would you please take care of the other issue so that we can get the party back on track?” Ana asking him to do something wasn’t unusual, but asking him to take the lead at a fetish event was unheard of. The moment his harness and collar slid over his skin and clicked closed he was in submissive mode, and she took control, so the odd situation had him nodding without asking the questions he probably should have.
“Of course Mistress, I’ll handle it.”
The sweet smile she gave him conflicted with her wickedly dangerous demeanor when she was in her Domme gear, but it tickled at his balls anyway. Making her happy was his one true goal in life. Whatever the problem, he would make absolutely sure that it never bothered her again.
“Thank you, pet. Go with Tasha, and I’ll find you later when they call for dinner.” She patted his ass and pressed a kiss to his lips before turning away from them and heading into the main living room to check over the party preparations. Guests were beginning to arrive, and there was no more time for discussion.
Facing off with Natasha, Foster gestured at her to follow him and said, “Let’s get a move on. What exactly am I taking care of?”
“The snake in the hot tub,” she said breezily, as though she hadn’t just been in meltdown mode seconds ago. Foster slammed on the brakes, and she ran into the back of him. “Hey! What are you doing?” she rubbed at the end of her nose and glared at him.
“Did you say snake? As in scaly
, slithering, tongue lashing reptile?” he asked, feeling an ice cold sweat break out over his barely clothed body.
Natasha nodded, “Yes, there’s one that crawled into the hot tub. If we don’t find a way to remove it no one will be able to use it tonight. It’s one of the most popular spots in the house, so we need to get cracking before someone spots it.”
An ear piercing shriek sounded before Foster could respond, and it came from the direction of the back patio. “Too late.” He heard Natasha moan, as they both took off running toward the sound.
The scene outside was chaotic. A female party guest had happened upon the loose reptile and gone into hysterics. Foster was frozen in place for several breaths as he watched her flapping her arms at her partner who was trying to keep her from hyperventilating. A dozen other people watched from a safe distance, but one man seemed braver than the others.
Foster could only see the back of him, but he had no doubt who that broad back belonged to. It had starred in his secret fantasies for months, along with the tight denim-covered ass that lifted into view as the man bent to search for the snake. The reminder of why he was outside hit him like a brick to the chest, and he fought to breathe. He’d told his Mistress that he would handle the situation, and there was no way he could fail her, but he hated snakes more than any other creature on Earth.
It took everything he had to move several steps closer to the hot tub, and the sex-God standing next to it.
“Uh, hey Wyatt, did you find the, uh, snake?” He cringed as his voice came out in a higher pitch than normal. Between his snake phobia and the combined desire and hatred for the man in front of him, he was really fumbling to stand up straight.
Wyatt Marks was his worst nightmare, and his hottest fantasy, and considering the man was rude, straight as an arrow, and arrogant to boot, this whole situation was a clusterfuck.
Giving him an odd look, Wyatt shook his head, “No, but I saw it slip under the decking over here. I’d go under there to get it, but I’m not sure my shoulders will fit through this small opening here.” He gestured at a fifteen inch gap in the wood deck that surrounded the hot tub, and Foster silently agreed. The space would never accommodate a body as broad as Wyatt’s.
“Well, it’s probably long gone by now. I mean, surely it won’t reappear with all this noise…” Foster took a small step backward, and Wyatt’s eyes narrowed on him.
“No, it’s not likely to reappear on purpose, but what if it decides to try to get away from the party and someone steps on it? I didn’t get a close enough look to know if it’s dangerous. Someone needs to go in there and see if we can at least tell what kind of snake it is.” Wyatt said, shoving his fingers through his belt loops.
It distracted Foster for a moment as he ran his eyes down the man’s naked torso to the dark jeans that rode low on his lean hips. Completely smooth golden skin almost sparkled in the fading sunlight, and Foster’s mouth went dry. Fuck, he wanted to taste that skin so much it was painful.
“Foster?” Wyatt was moving his way, frowning, “Did you hear what I said? Can you go in there and see what the snake looks like?”
A shiver ran down his spine, and he felt the blood drain out of his face as his mouth opened and closed several times when he tried to respond. Before he could get anything to come out, his vision grayed out a little, and he stumbled. A pair of strong arms came around him, holding him upright, and his nostrils filled with the spicy scent of Wyatt’s aftershave. How was it possible to be both terrified and turned on to this extreme?
“Whoa, buddy, let’s sit you down. Are you sick? Where’s Mistress Ana?”
A chair was shoved against his knees and Foster collapsed into it feeling shaky as he panted for air. Wyatt’s face appeared before his, gripping his jaw, and forcing him to meet his gorgeous yellow gold eyes.
“Foster, are you sick? You’ve gotta tell me what’s going on, man.” Concern etched lines into Wyatt’s normally smooth face, and Foster focused on the dimpled groove that encircled his lush lips. Those lips would look so fucking amazing with a cock between them.
Closing his eyes, he dropped his head as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. There were a dozen people around them watching him act like a scared child because of a snake and a sexy man. What was wrong with him?
“What’s wrong with you, Craft? I’ve seen Ana work your ass over for hours, and you’ve never turned that color of gray.” Wyatt was crouched in front of him, his broad torso keeping Foster’s knees spread, and his face inches away. He was still holding his jaw, but his grip was softer now. In fact his thumb seemed to be almost stroking Foster’s skin.
“Snake.” Foster whispered through clenched teeth. “I hate snakes.”
Understanding dawned in Wyatt’s eyes and the concern faded away leaving a cocky smirk. “Huh. So you’re scared of snakes?”
With a sharp nod, Foster confirmed it. To his surprise, Wyatt didn’t laugh at his childish fears or ask what caused them; he just nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, no problem. We’ll figure something else out. You just sit still so that I don’t have to pick your ass up off the floor if you pass out, got it?”
While he sat on his ass, Wyatt moved with precision, a general lining up his troops with firm commands, and marching into battle with confidence. There was nothing submissive about his demeanor at the moment, and if not for his own knowledge of Wyatt’s sexual proclivities, Foster might have called him a Dominant.
After calling on two other male party guests to help him lift the decking, so that another ten inches was added to the slender gap, Wyatt took a flashlight from Natasha who was still fumbling around trying to be helpful. Then with one more glance at Foster, as though to make sure he’d stayed put, he forced his wide shoulders into the tight space and wiggled his way into the darkness.
Foster’s eyes were locked on his tight ass because there really was no other place to look. Nearly every inch of his torso was under the wooden platform now, and after a couple of moments he was wriggling back out. His head had barely cleared the opening when the two men holding it up released it with a loud thud and groaned simultaneously in relief.
In Wyatt’s hand was a wriggling, slithering, disgusting snake about nine inches long. On his face was a brilliant smile that stopped Foster’s heart.
“Shit, it’s just a baby corn snake. My cock’s bigger than he is.”
Everyone but Foster laughed at Wyatt’s joke; he was too busy staring at the sunset outlining the big man who’d just completed a feat that Foster himself could never face. It was a bittersweet moment as he realized that his desire for Wyatt had increased ten-fold seeing him hold that snake tightly in his grip. It changed nothing, though. Wyatt was straight, Foster was in a heterosexual relationship, and his bi-curious fantasies were once again being forced back into a tiny vault in his head behind a massive steel door named Mistress Ana. Sure, he knew she’d do anything to make him happy, but he couldn’t let it happen. And Wyatt sure as hell would never let it happen.
A memory from four months ago flashed through his head, and his blood ran cold in his veins. Wyatt had propositioned Ana, requesting that she take him on as a submissive. Foster had been ecstatic, he couldn’t wait to see the cocky man under Ana’s whip, but he also had wicked visions of Wyatt underneath his own lean body, taking a pounding from his long cock.
When Ana expressed her desire to pair the two men, Wyatt balked, and spat out several disgusting homophobic obscenities making it very clear there was no chance of that happening. Disappointed and offended, Foster hadn’t even been able to continue the evening’s festivities, and he and Mistress Ana left the party early for the first time in six years.
He had no doubt that Ana loved him as much as he loved her, but she’d never spoken the words, and the incident had shaken their stability. It was weeks before he was able to find a true release and submit deeply to Ana again, and in the quiet hours of the night they’d promised each other that it would never happen again. They might bring
a third into their mix, but they would never let anyone make them doubt their relationship.
Yet, here Foster sat, staring at Wyatt like a raw steak in a lion’s den, imagining all the wild, wicked things that he and Ana could do to the man to make him rescind his earlier rantings about homosexuality. It was ridiculous, and he needed to get a grip on himself before he was embarrassed again.
While Wyatt was distracted with releasing the snake at the edge of the property, Foster rose and headed into the house to put as much distance between them as possible. Even the gratitude he felt toward the big man for not making a big deal about his phobia wasn’t enough to erase the scar he’d already left on his heart.
Chapter 2
Wyatt was disappointed when he returned to the patio to find Foster’s chair empty. He’d hoped to get a moment with the elusive man before Foster started avoiding him for the evening. There were so many things he felt the need to say to him and Mistress Ana, but it had taken him almost four months to come to grips with his own secrets and find the balls to reveal them.
Because of his earlier behavior, neither Ana nor Foster seemed inclined to even give him a moment of their time, and tonight was the first time Foster had spoken directly to him since that terrible night. How the hell was he supposed to explain to them that he’d been so mouthy and nasty about touching another man because he was terrified to admit it was exactly what he wanted?
In the middle of the night, it was Foster and Ana who starred in his dreams, doing deliciously wicked, nasty things to his body, and he reveled in it. He’d watched them play together, and he’d seen them take on a third, but their play partners were always female submissives. In the whole time he’d known the couple, Ana had never worked with another male submissive while she was topping Foster. He’d been in attendance when she trained a new sub, but he never seemed like he was interested in joining her.