Bad Kitty

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Bad Kitty Page 12

by Sam Crescent


  Secrecy, privacy, and complete trust came with that room. People had to sign a non-disclosure agreement, pay for the privilege, and follow the rules.

  At first, Caleb had thought it was a bad idea. In Vegas he’d trained as a Dom. He’d been fascinated by the Dominant and submissive lifestyle. He liked to be in charge in the bedroom. It wasn’t who he was, but it was a play he enjoyed. James had put him in charge of keeping an eye on things, and he did. Whenever they had new clients, he always made sure he was present to watch over them. If at any time he felt a vulnerable person was being abused or manipulated, he stepped in.

  As far as he was concerned, BDSM was a consensual lifestyle approved by both parties. They only stepped foot inside that part of the club if he interviewed both people, and he did so separately so he could gauge their reactions.

  In the past few years he’d only had to interfere with one couple. A man had brought a young woman, still seventeen, to play, and thought he could get away with it because they were an MC and didn’t give a shit about women. How wrong he’d been. They’d taken care of the woman, made sure she was safe, then passed the piece of shit over to the police. They could have handled it themselves, but that wasn’t their way. Not anymore.

  Opening his bedroom door, Caleb saw the letter on the bed along with a single rose.

  Sitting on the edge, he saw it was Kitty’s handwriting.

  Sliding it open, he pulled out the letter.

  Come and play with me.

  Inhaling the scent of the flower, he smiled. He didn’t need any clues as to where to find her.

  Leaving his room, he walked back down toward the bar, but turned off to where he knew she’d be.

  He didn’t know what she wanted to do, and right now, he didn’t care. Opening the door, he stepped inside.

  What he noticed first was that no one else was in the room. The next, soft music played throughout the room, calming, relaxing. Peaceful.

  Closing the door, he saw her, in the center of the room, naked, her hair pulled back in a long plait. Her hands were palm upwards, head bowed, submissive. There had been many times he’d thought about this moment. How it would be and feel. Nothing came close to the kind of blue balls he felt.

  “This does surprise me,” he said.

  She didn’t say anything.

  “You may speak.”

  He crouched down, grabbing her braid and pulling her head back a little so that he could look into her eyes.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Because I want to be, Caleb. I want to be here with you.”

  He cupped her face, running his thumb across her lip. She didn’t flinch. In fact, there was an answering heat in her eyes.

  “You want me to play with you? Spank you? Treat you like a naughty woman?”

  She smiled. “I don’t want you to stop,” she said.

  “Stop?”

  “I asked James if I could have this place for tonight. He arranged it. We didn’t have any scheduled customers, and it was going to be closed anyway. I wanted it to just be us here, together. I don’t want you to spank me and wait for me. I want you to touch me, to do everything you wanted, and not stop.”

  “You’re ready for that?”

  “Yes. I can’t stop thinking about it, Caleb. Please, trust me. I’m ready.”

  ****

  Dane parked outside the trailer he’d been staying at. It was a small trailer, but what appealed to him was the open fields. The guy that had owned it hadn’t gotten the permission to build on the land, so he parked a trailer on it, stopping anyone from ever purchasing the land, and renting the space out for a decent price.

  He wasn’t rich.

  The years on the road had dwindled his funds, and then of course he had Lucy and the kids to think about. Now that he was back, he was giving her money.

  He stood at the passenger side of the truck as Lucy and Lewis parked, followed by James and Pixie.

  Ignoring them all, he opened the back of the truck and dragged out a groaning Ryan.

  He was dressed in leather, his face split up and bloody.

  Ryan fell to the ground, coughing, holding his side.

  “Dane, what the hell are you doing?”

  He ignored his ex-wife, grabbed Ryan by the jacket, and lifted him up, pressing his son against the side of the truck.

  The leather cut Ryan wore was Dane’s own. It was one that James had in his office. Ryan had clearly stolen it, but that wasn’t why Dane was pissed.

  “Get off me,” Ryan said.

  “What the fuck are you playing at?” Dane said, getting into his son’s face.

  “Get your hands of me, you piece of shit.”

  “I’m a piece of shit.” Pulling Ryan to the floor, he lifted him up enough, cupping his face so that he could look in the side mirror at his bloodied reflection. His nose was clearly smashed in, and there was a cut across his face. He looked a fucking mess.

  When he’d gotten the call from Ryan about what he was doing, he’d driven long and hard to get to the fight set up over an hour away. He was so fucking mad right now. Pissed off, angry.

  A bunch of punk ass kids who played at being men.

  Seeing his son in the ring, the blood on his face, something had snapped inside Dane, something profound. Ryan was his son, his little boy, and as he watched him take hit after hit, all he could see was that boy. The one that ran to him when he got home. The one that constantly begged him to play trains, who ran around with him in the garden.

  The fact he’d left his son, it suddenly hit him like a fucking metal bar across the back of the head. Ryan was his son! His! Lucy, his kids, they were all his, and he had lost them.

  Then of course he realized that if he didn’t stop this fight, if he didn’t save Ryan, his son was going to be dead. He’d watched Ryan’s opponent reveal the knife. In his mind, he’d seen the end of his son, and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

  “You shouldn’t have interfered,” Ryan said, trying to fight him, but it was no good. He was stronger than Ryan. Fuck! He was stronger than most men at the Dirty Fuckers MC.

  “Leave him alone,” Lucy said. “Can’t you see he doesn’t need this?”

  He looked up to see Lucy and Lewis watching him. Anger was in Lucy’s eyes, respect in Lewis’s.

  Lewis was trying with Ryan, and even if his son tried, he was still a fucking challenge.

  “Back off, Lucy. If he didn’t need this then I wouldn’t have had to stop him getting fucking killed tonight. Where did he say he was going, huh? Study group? See a girl? Working?”

  Lucy paled. “He said he was working.”

  “He didn’t turn up for his fucking shift,” Dane said.

  “Caleb took over today. They were completely swamped at the diner,” James said, surprising him.

  “What the fuck do you care?” Ryan asked. “You’re just going to run again.”

  Grabbing the jacket, he threw Ryan against the side of the car. “You think you’re a big, tough man, Ryan? You think you can take a guy like me. Is that it? You wear the leather cut, but you don’t deserve to wear the patch.”

  “You don’t either!”

  “Newsflash, son, I’m not wearing the fucking patch, and I’m not leaving.”

  “That’s what you always said,” Ryan said, yelling right back. “You said you were staying. That you were coming back, that you’d never leave. You did though.”

  “So this is what this is about. You grew up without a father, is that it? You think you’re special because I walked out. You think it makes you a big man because you didn’t have me.”

  He heard Lewis and Lucy fighting in the background as he stared at his son. Dane was happy with everyone being angry and pissed at him. He accepted that, but what he would never allow was his son to put his life in danger.

  “Screw you.”

  “Your brother and sister are handling this shit, Ryan. Why can’t you? You’re not a big boy? You need someone to hold your hand?”

&nbs
p; “Fuck you.”

  “You got a problem, I’m right here, Ryan. Going around beating the shit out of people is not going to make you feel better!”

  “How long are you going to be here for, huh?” Ryan slammed his hands against his chest. Dane didn’t move. “A week? A year? How long before you decide you’ve had enough playing dad?”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I’m right here, Ryan.”

  Tears filled his son’s eyes.

  “I’m right here.”

  Ryan lashed out, slamming his fist against his face, and Dane took it, even as he heard Lucy cry. He made sure James and the others stayed back. This had to happen. He didn’t raise his hand to Ryan as he released his anger, shouting and cursing about how much he hated him, and then he collapsed.

  Dane wrapped his arms around his son and held him close.

  “I’m right here.”

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I’m not going to go. I’m never going to leave you again.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Kitty waited, worried that he didn’t believe her. If he didn’t, she’d just have to prove to him that she was more than ready.

  “You came here like this for me?”

  “Yes. Do you like it, or would you like me to change?”

  His hold in her hair loosened, and she kept her gaze on his as he stroked his knuckles down her shoulder, over her nipple. She gasped as the single stroke caused her pussy to clench. Staring at him, she tried not to close her eyes as he trailed his knuckles across her other nipple, teasing her.

  “I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

  She couldn’t stop the smile. She’d wanted to take him by surprise but for it to be a nice one.

  “Stand up.”

  She got to her feet, taking the hand he offered her. When she was on her feet, he pulled a chair into the center of the room and sat down. With her arms by her sides, she waited for him, curious about what would happen next.

  He stared at her, and then gave the signal for her to turn. Slowly, she turned in a full circle, and when he asked her to do it again, she did so.

  “Turn around, bend over.”

  Staring at the wall, she bent forward so that her pussy and ass were on display for him. “Spread your cheeks wide. I want to see your pussy and ass.”

  Reaching behind her, she grabbed her ass and opened. Her cheeks heated, wondering if he liked what he saw.

  “Kitty,” he said.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “What’s your safeword?”

  “Rose.”

  “Good.”

  “How do you tell me if I’m going too fast?” he asked.

  “I tell you to wait.”

  “And if you like it?”

  “I don’t say anything, but I moan my pleasure. I have to make sounds so you know.”

  She recalled all of their previous teaching. When they first got together to play, she and Caleb had talked for nearly four hours about her and BDSM. From what she liked to what she didn’t like. She didn’t have a clue, so being inexperienced and a total novice when it came to it, it had been a long but fulfilling journey. She knew she loved his hands spanking her followed by the whip. The nipple clamps were also a pleasure to her. She liked that bite where she imagined it being his lips then the pulse as blood filled her nipples once again.

  The other was the St. Andrew’s Cross. Caleb would tie her up and put a blindfold on her. He’d never touched her with his hands before, but he’d use feathers, whips, anything that would drive her wild. It was the only way she’d gotten any contact.

  So much missed time.

  So much wasted opportunity.

  Fuck you, Dad.

  She pushed him aside and focused on Caleb. His even breathing filled the air.

  “You’re wet, Kitty.”

  “Yes. I’m always wet for you, Sir.”

  “Go and lean over the bench. You know how I like you to do it. I want you ready and no peeking. Close your eyes.”

  Caleb’s favorite was the black leather spanking bench. He had picked it out and installed it personally. She’d also seen him buffing the leather and preparing it every single night that the room was in use.

  Leaning over the spanking bench, she reached out for the loops on the end, holding on. Closing her eyes, she listened for him moving, and within seconds was rewarded.

  He stood behind her, his presence seeming to surround her.

  She gasped as his hand landed on the small of her back, holding her steady. His other hand slid across her ass. “I really do love your ass.” He squeezed the flesh, and she moaned as he did the same to the other ass cheek. He ran his fingers down her thighs then up, missing her pussy. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to just touch you like this?” He caressed up her back, moving around to stroke the sides of her breasts, then down to her ass again. “So long.”

  “You should punish me, Sir, for making you wait.”

  She cried out as he slapped her ass. It wasn’t hard, and she bit her lip at the answering pulse within her pussy.

  “Are you telling me how to take care of you?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “It certainly sounds like it, and I don’t like that. I won’t stand for that.” He brought his hand down again.

  Slap.

  Slap.

  Slap.

  Each one drove her arousal higher. He was also holding back as he spanked her.

  Closing her eyes, she waited as his touch left her, and she heard him move away. Gritting her teeth, she kept her eyes closed so that she wouldn’t be tempted to take even a little peek.

  He came back, stroking her ass, touching her, driving her wild as he refused to touch her pussy.

  Suddenly, something hit her ass. It felt very much like a flogger. The lashes spreading out across her ass, building to a fever pitch. He changed sides, providing the same attention to her other ass cheek. She released a whimper, moaning as the pleasure and pain built.

  She heard him drop the flogger and his hands replaced it, slapping her cheeks and thighs. His touch drove her wild.

  Kitty screamed his name as he spread her ass cheeks open and his mouth went to her pussy. His tongue pressed inside her, fucking her. He slid down, teasing her clit. Her orgasm was so close that she was about to come when he suddenly stopped. She tried to wriggle closer to him, but he wouldn’t let her.

  He helped her off the spanking bench, moving her toward the center of the room where the chains were held.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. You wanted to play.”

  “I do, Sir.”

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you missed one.”

  She had done it on purpose.

  With her hands secured, he pulled up the chain so her hands were above her head. She was open, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy, and she didn’t care.

  Watching him, she saw he held a blindfold.

  He gave her time to tell him to wait or to stop. She did neither. This was the two of them, together in this room. Caleb wasn’t just another man to her. He was her soulmate, and finally after all this time, she realized it.

  No one will come between us.

  Not even my past.

  He returned to her, and she gasped as she felt the feather on her skin.

  “I was surprised to find your invitation waiting,” he said. The feather danced across her breasts, sliding down her stomach, past her pussy, down her thighs.

  “I hope you weren’t upset by what I wanted, Sir.”

  “No, I wasn’t upset. Far from it. I was happy.” He moved behind her, stroking her back, and she arched up.

  She cried out as his body pressed against her, and she felt how naked he was. His arm banded around her body, touching her pussy. His fingers worked between her thighs, stroking her clit.

  He moved down to fill her pussy, and she tried to get his palm to touch her clit, but he
wouldn’t. Caleb tortured her, keeping her at the point of pleasure with no hope of hurtling over the edge.

  “You have surprised and delighted me, Kitty. Never in all of my dreams did I think this moment would come.” He kissed her neck, sucking on the pulse at the base. She tilted her head to the side to give him better access. She didn’t want him to stop, ever.

  His hand moved away, and she heard him sucking his fingers. “You taste so good. The night is not over yet, Kitty. I wonder how long I can keep you on that edge, begging for release and only when you’re good will I let you go over.”

  Even though the idea itself was pure torture, she craved it.

  She craved his touch, his needs, every part of him.

  “I’m yours, Sir. Do with me as you see fit.”

  He moaned against her back. “Good answer. Are you sure you’re ready for all of that?”

  She smiled. “I’m ready for anything you have to throw at me, Sir.”

  More than ready. This was what she’d always been wanting. All those years of wasted fear, of keeping him at arms’ length, of feeling like she didn’t deserve him. That was all gone. She wasn’t going to let her father win. He was nothing to her anymore.

  Nothing but a piece of shit child abuser who was dead. Caleb had wiped that filth off the face of the world, and as far as she was concerned, good riddance.

  Too much time had been wasted.

  Too much hoping.

  Too much waiting, and she was done.

  Caleb would have everything from her, and she wouldn’t hold back. She refused to.

  ****

  After torturing her in the chains, he moved her to the St. Andrew’s Cross, which was a personal favorite of his. He had her spread wide where he could lick, suck, and play with her body how he saw fit. Front, back, every single part of her was at his touch.

 

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