by Talon P. S.
Katianna’s eyes shifted to the man Trenton had left at the door, who despite his submissive posture had his eyes fixated on Trenton. She noted the oddity that he was inside rather than outside. Trenton had never done that before. “Who’s that?”
Trenton didn’t bother to look. “New slave trainee.”
“I thought you didn’t Dom men.” She grinned.
“I don’t usually—” he rolled his lips with some consternation, “but certain business investments I have required me to make exceptions with this one.”
“He’s cute.”
Trenton’s warm glow shattered at her comment and his expression darkened. He gritted his teeth, but forced himself to relax, perhaps this was a chance to get past this ridiculous chatter and do some elicit quizzing, “Would you like to fuck him?” He leaned in whispering to her.
Katianna recoiled, her eyes widened in surprise and she shook her head, "No.”
He’d already taken the step—there was no holding back where he was going with it. “Its Marcus’ birthday tonight. All the brothers will be here celebrating… perhaps one of them?”
“No!” Her answer came a little harder this time. Shocked burned on her face. He could see she didn’t understand why he would dare ask.
Trenton leaned in closer till his lips nearly brushed her ear, his warm breath sealed the touch, “But you’d fuck me?” And he let his cheek brush against hers like a feather. It was all he could do, not to do more.
Katianna felt her spine melt under his warm breath; she swallowed softly unable to answer him. Even the scent of him made her body sway. She took in a deep inhale of him as he kept close still waiting for her response. A musky blend of zesty grapefruit with a spice rack of notes; coriander, basil, cardamom, and ginger, plus a manly hint of tobacco. Classic and comfortable—better then the smell of old bound leather books and she loved that smell.
Trenton fought back the devilish grin “I’ll take your silence as a definite possibility.” And he liked that notion.
“You’re drunk again.” She finally found some courage. Damned if she knew where, but the thought that this was all because he’d had a few drinks in him reminded her of the last time he fiend interest in her.
“I assure you I am not. But would it bother you if I were?” He leaned back some to study her face carefully and saw the irritation there.
“It’s the only time you have any interest in me.”
Trenton pushed further back on his heels, a strong expression on his face of sudden realization, “Is that what happened in Paris, Kat? You thought only because I was well lit, I wanted you?”
“Not just—you were going to take me in front of all those people.” She stammered quiet suddenly caught between panic and hurt.
Trenton's brow furrowed and he shook his head and let out a soft sigh to slow his thoughts down, “No Katianna I was not. I would not have done that to you. I admit I lost control of my hunger for you, but I would not have gone that far.”
“So even drunk I wasn’t desirable for you, yet you tease me all the time.” Now she was going to be pissed. She could feel the heat building in her face. She realized then she was arguing a catch twenty two, but she couldn’t help it. Either he didn’t want her at all or only when he was drunk—both hurt.
Trenton laughed at her and that just angered her even more. She had a notion to twist out of her seat and move away from him and started to do so, but Trenton had her abruptly by the arm and pulled her to him. His lips came over hers, soft and tender, pressing the warmth of his mouth against hers, then pulled away to lick at his own lips as if to savor her taste.
“Katianna there wasn’t enough time for me to enjoy you. Besides—” He went on not allowing her further protest before he could explain. “I want so much more of you—more than you realize.”
He saw her soften, raging red turn to aroused pink. It was phenomenal watching her like a mood ring changing colors under the warmth of his hand. He told himself he wasn’t going to wait any longer, that he’d waited long enough. She knew who he was, that his tastes ran far deeper then what she saw here at the club. Quiz over, she was responding to his antics like a reed in the wind, now was as good a time as any to proceed. “Would you ever consider being my Life Slave?”
Pink going pale now. “Aren’t there enough slaves around here for you to choose from?”
“Not just any slave, I mean my one, my Life Slave. You’d come live with me, under my command, my only one. Forever.”
“I—ah—” okay so now she was speechless and she didn’t even know what that meant—life slave. Panic flared at the thought of that. She looked at him a bewildered blank stare on her face, taking in the small grin quirking his lips and the way he looked back at her. As if she already was his.
Trenton took her stammer for what it was and why would she know what he was asking of her. He’d never spoken about what a Life Slave was and he knew no one else she might know would have either. “You saw Fambleush and his slaves—(nod)— and you understand they are not the same as the Subs you see here at the club— (more bewildered nodding)— but they too are under contract and one day their contract will end and they are free to go. I’m looking for one. The one that stays forever. Not as my servant, but as my adored unicorn. The ultimate sacrifice when a woman gives everything, her body… the duration of her life.” His eyes floated over her. He could already see her in his house and how it stirred him to ravage her with his need. His hand took her laptop and moved it from her lap to the table and he came over her again. Kissing her, sucking at her lips, but only briefly. He didn’t want her to think he would repeat his loss of control as he had in La Rouge Nuit. So he pulled back seeing the glistening moisture of their kiss on her face and he wiped under her lip with a gentle caress of his thumb. His fingers ran along the side of her face and into her hair. His eyes filled with the touch. “I would tend to your every need as you would be mine.”
Giving up everything wasn’t putting a very tantalizing picture in her head. “So you’d have me chained up in a corner till you came home, take me for walks. I’ll fetch your slippers and you’ll take me to your bed when the need suits you?” She wanted to be mad over the suggestion, should have at least sounded like it, but his kiss, his touch—it took her breath away. That he really did want her and not for just a short toss of some sexual exuberant affair had her mind spiraling. Yet again she didn’t know how to define a Life Slave. She wasn’t even sure if that was a good thing or not. Her mind was skipping to reach a definition, but her body was already saying yes in so many ways.
“Not a chance.” Trenton’s hand returned from the tendrils of hair and stroked the side of her face once more, then caught it in his grip as did his gaze, “You will always be by my side—on me—” he grinned, “under me. I’d get to dress you, feed you, kiss you—” he kissed the corner of her mouth, than her cheek—her ear—her neck— “I’ll pamper you in ways you can’t imagine.”
Her breath deepened with each kiss. She was hearing all this, but it was taking longer to sink in, of just what all this meant. It didn’t sound much different from what she had with Garrett or what Trenton had often done with her. Yet she knew that what Trenton implied had to hold so much more in store for his Life Slave then his words said. “And my writing?”
“You’d still get to do that.” Giving that wicked grin of his. “When I’m not fucking you—I would never take that from you.” His eyes shimmered with the devilish thoughts behind that smile, “But I gotta warn you I can fuck for a really long time. I’ll make all those sex scenes in your books seem dull.”
She pulled away, shooting him a rather self righteous look, “You’re insane. Nobody can make my sex scenes sound dull.”
“Wanna bet? Ever been fucked solid for three hours?”
She swallowed, feeling the blood drain from her head or perhaps it flooded with it as she shook her head. She watched as he shifted and leaned in close so he could whisper in her ear, “What’s the longest
a man has ever fucked you Katianna? How long did he last before he spilled his seed into you?” Just like the visual he created his elicit words spilled over her like a hot toddy, then the softest touch of his lips kissed her ear. A warm currant shot down the side of her neck defusing her spine with it and fired off every tiny nerve ending in her loins. It made her chest heave with a deep breath and she was certain she was blushing—or she was at least burning a deep color of crimson for his touch. That this was what his first touch of seduction felt like her body was definitely saying yes.
“How long Katianna?” He softly demanded to have the answer.
She shook her head with a jerk, “Thirty? I don’t know, maybe forty-five— usually only thirty—twenty? Maybe—it’s been a while.” Her response nearly ended with a pout at the last part. And despite her pout he was glad for that last bit of information, though he’d already known she hadn’t dated anyone since they met. She attempted a dinner date once and he didn’t handle it very well.
But that her past lovers had been only a fraction above being classified as minute men? Trenton’s head fell forward dropping to her shoulder and he could hear her heart pounding behind the heavy breathe deepening ever slightly with a nervous pace. He shook his head; poor girl was in for a challenge with him. He kissed her shoulder through the fabric of her vintage dress, then her neck—moving up slowly to her cheek. Hearing her breath heave deeper with each one and then he sat back. “I have to get back to the dominion, I’d ask you to come with me—” he paused as if some part of him needed the moment to reestablish his own composure, “but we’ll be closing the club early here soon and then it’s going to get pretty rowdy. Will I see you tomorrow?” His eyes dropped to her hands and he picked one up bringing it to his lips and kissed her fingers one at a time.
He could close his eyes and just keep going and never stop. The whole world could disappear right now and he wouldn’t care as long as he had her—kissing her—touching her.
His free hand went to her waist and stroked her side till his thumb grazed the outer curve of her breast and instantly he wanted to hold it, burned to touch more of her. He leaned in—every intention to kiss her. He was nearly panting, he needed her so much. She gasped before he even got there and he halted abruptly. Shit—He was about to run her over again.
He allowed only his face to touch hers and he struggled to slow his breath, his lust, “I want you.” He breathed to her, “Want you so bad it’s hard to stop. But I don’t want to make the same mistake I made in Paris.” A soft pecking kiss to her cheek, “Tell me you’ll be here tomorrow.”
Katianna was still speechless. Breathless for the kiss that had approached and never arrived. She couldn’t think of one word in the English language. So she nodded. Not only was she speechless… and breathless, but she must have looked like an owl as she starred after him all wide eyed, when he straightened and left her there yearning and enkindled.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Club Pain closed its doors early to the public that night and right away bar staff and friends prepared the downstairs area for the extravaganza gala of the year to celebrate one of the brother’s birthday. Each year they threw a big bash for one of the five brothers. Dane of course had been the first to be celebrated when the club first opened. Harper’s birthday was celebrated the following year than last year was Diesel’s turn. This year it was Marcus’s. And so the club was transformed, from night club into arena to accommodate the entertainment events that were about to begin in honor of the birthday boy. As always Dane and Trenton held memorable bashes, so friends were wired with excitement for things to get started.
While the food and liquors was brought in, the dance floor was transformed into an arena, gym mats laid out and fastened by Velcro and oiled down all in preparation for the games.
A throne was set up in the back in front of the Saint Andrews cross, and Marcus was lead out to take his place among his disciples.
Trenton took his place next to Marcus and called the night to order. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Doms and Subs, you have been brought here in honor of our Lord Magistrate of the Night— (cheers)— Head Master Marcus Scriven—(more cheers)— in celebration of this day when the Gods blessed the future slaves of our world with his birthing of dominant existence. People of Pain bring forth your offerings!”
And with his announcement a roar of laughter and bantering came and so did the gifts. First to lead the procession four Subs entered, carrying a female body laid flat on a stretcher, her body covered in a variety of fruits and deserts, and centered on her belly was the birthday cake and thirty-four candles. They carried her around the dance floor coming to a stop before the thrown. Marcus stood to receive the offering, discovering under all the sweet treats was Marcena. “Do I get to eat her too?”
Everyone broke out in laughter, even a giggle erupted from Marcena’s lips and then Marcus blew out the candles. He ran his fingers along her delicate sex then scooped up a handful of cake and shoved it into his mouth, “Eat up!” He announced, “But the girl is mine.” Adding further proclamation.
Dane stepped forward with an offering of two bottles of AsomBroso brand tequila one a Platino silver, the other a La Rosa flavor which was a unique pink color, the bottles themselves had a largely phallic shape to them.
“What is this?”
“Top tequila and you can always use the bottle for other things, in case your wanker is losing its stamina with old age.” Dane mocked him.
“And you call yourself a loyal subject.” Marcus grimaced at the humor taken against his age and his cock.
“Absolutely. That’s why I gave you two.” He slapped Marcus on the back then hugged him.
Diesel was up next and offered him a wrapped box. When opened, Marcus found a Star Wars electronic version of the board game Battleship. “Okay what’s this for?” Marcus scratched at his head, leery of even asking.
“Oh yeah—” Diesel fidgeted then dug into his front pocket then pulled out a pill bottle then set it down in front of him. “Almost forgot the most important part.”
Marcus picked up the bottle reading the label, “Viagra?”
“Yep.” Diesel nodded infectiously, but not a hint of the prank intended.
“And the game?”
Diesel nodded, “So you have something to keep the girl entertained, while you wait for the Viagra to kick in.” and that got everyone roaring. Marcus only hung his head.
Harper came up handing over his gift. Marcus had already grown reluctant, but dutifully opened the next package, an electronic Pro Bass fishing rod game. He looked at Harper knowing there was a joke just waiting to be announced.
“For fly fishing, I heard somewhere that old guys do that.” He shrugged.
“You guys are killing me. Enough gifts now, I want entertainment.”
“The magistrate speaks!” Diesel announced and Trenton quickly took the queue and turned to his audience, “People of Pain! In his honor—I give you—the Gladiator Games!”
The room filled with loud blusterous cheers and roaring.
“Match one!” Trenton called out.
Cliff, the young blonde who yearned for high rank among the Doms, stepped down to the dance floor turned arena. He had not been given a direct invitation, but his request to enter the match to establish some much needed levity got him in. His lack of rank among the Doms put him at the lowest of competition; he first had to win a Sub match just to establish recognition of a Dom, which meant he was first up. But he was having some serious second thoughts when the Dominus’ new slave Paris stepped down to oppose him.
“Aw come on Cliffy—not scared are you?” Sasha was suddenly against his back, goading him in his ear. Cliff gulped. The man was huge, fucking to die for gorgeous as far as guys go, but he was a monster of a man. Six-four the man stood eye to eye with Dominus but damn… he had to have another five or six inches on his shoulders and his arms were nearly as thick as Cliff’s own thighs. He caught himself looking down just to measure. Hell
he didn’t stand a chance against this one.
“Why fret he’s still just a slave.” Sasha teased.
“A slave more than twice my size.” Cliff muttered. Losing what little confidence he had.
“Better butter up good then, aye?” Sasha popped Cliff’s already naked ass. “Don’t worry if you fail to become a Dom I’ll take you on as one of my Subs. I can feed you to my twin boys.”
Cliff glared at him, motherfucker he’d show ‘em. And he stepped up for the challenge.
Paris glanced at the lean man before him, slender with a little muscle—like a runner or something of that nature. He wasn’t skin and bones, but facing the odds, about the only thing the young blonde had going for himself right now was a decent dick, which at the moment was seemingly passive.
“What are the rules?” Paris asked, feeling Diesel behind him.
“Wrestle the next man down. First one to cum is the winner.”
“Topper games.”
“You’ve played?”
“I went to college.” Paris answered smugly, a hint that he’d used many of them to get his jollies with a few straight guys.
“Well Cliffy here has to beat you to earn Dom recognition. So he’s your first piece of ass.” He slapped the condom wrapper into his palm.
Paris tore the package and slowly rolled it down his cock stroking at it lightly. He was already hard, been that way since he got up that morning and between Diesel and Trenton they’d seen to it he stayed that way. Now he knew why. He’d only heard them use the word games, but every time he asked, they simply told him he’d find out soon enough. That was always the answer—find out soon enough. Waiting was part of the experience.
But this one? Paris looked Cliff over again. He would be easy. And there would be no sense in spilling his seed to win the match either. Cliff had to top no matter what to get his status. Paris just had to put him on the bottom for a minute and his opponent’s hopes of topping were over. He knew they wouldn’t bother check the condom, they never did except when the stakes were high and the match a close run. Now that he understood what was in store for him tonight, he was certain he and Derek would have at it.