by Cynthia Dane
“You’re still hung up on that, huh? Sorry. Turns out my heart only beats for Dommes around here. Don’t think you fit that bill. You’re too naturally submissive.”
“Don’t categorize me you piece of shit!”
Well, fucking, well.
I’ve had a hunch recently that Stephanie is a bit… unwell. Maybe not unwell. I don’t want to make it sound like such people are bad and terrible, but there is definitely something going on in Stephanie’s head. Otherwise there’s no way to explain her lying about being ten years younger, abandoning her child, and sucking every man around her dry.
I’d feel bad for her, especially since her promising career is tanking, but she’s been hurting the people I love. For that, I can’t forgive her. Or pity her.
“I’ll categorize you as much as I want, Stephanie.” I approach her, cautiously, because we all know you don’t go running up to a bear going HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY. I may be bigger than her, but she’s the one on the defensive. “It’s my job to categorize people. I do it in my professional life and my personal life. And you? You’re what we would call a bratty sub. When you’re not pleasing your man to manipulate him and get your way – which, by the way, makes for a super shitty BDSM relationship, not that you care – you’re acting like a brat until a man has to take matters into his own hands and force you to obey.”
“That’s sick,” Stephanie spits. “I knew you were a sick pervert, but I didn’t know you were a rapist too.”
Whoa boy, that is some serious fucking tension in this room.
“You misunderstand me. The sub wants to be controlled and put in her place. That’s what she gets off on and what appeals to her side of kink. It’s all consensual with safe words and extensive conversation beforehand.”
Kathryn’s hand snakes over my shoulder. She leans against me, smiling deviously. “What do you think, Ian? This pain in our ass is definitely the bratty kind of sub. Assuming, of course, she’s into that.”
“I am not.” Stephanie is vehement, but I see the tell in her face. A blip of uncertainty. A flash of… consideration. Eyes glazing over in fantasy. Ha. Ha.
“That’s funny,” I say, putting my hand on Kathryn’s. “Those two dates of ours seemed kinky. If I hadn’t been so eager to fuck you that night, what would you have done for me?”
“I think it’s obvious. I blew you in front of all those people.”
“You sure did, honey,” Kathryn says. “It was pretty hot.”
“You… you saw…”
“I saw and continue to see everything.” A well-manicured nail points to Stephanie’s chest. “Like those. You getting horny hanging out with us?”
Stephanie’s nipples are saying hello in more ways than one. Mostly by poking through the bodice of her black dress. Ah, I remember what those breasts looked like. Obviously, Kathryn’s are more supple and delightful to gaze at and squeeze. Yet Stephanie’s were great too. When I was dating her, I remember not being able to wait to have a lot of fun with them – okay, and her too.
Things change, don’t they?
“I am not. Is everything about sex with you two?”
Kathryn and I exchange glances. My beautifully kinky Katie steps away from me, her ass sashaying in the belly of her living room as she extends a hand and caresses Stephanie’s flinching face.
“Yes,” she purrs. “It is. And we would like to fuck your unworthy cunt.”
Chapter 31
KATHRYN
Seriously, fuck this asshole.
Literally. And figuratively.
She’s looking into my sensual poker face, the same one I’ve used on a million male subs over the years. I see it in her eyes. She’s curious. Scared as a man’s balls around steel-toed boots, but intrigued.
“Cunt?” She nearly spits on my carpet. “Thought you and your ilk were supposed to call yourselves feminists. How dare you call me that slur.”
I cross my arms. “I didn’t call you a cunt, honey.” The smile I unleash on her is enough to make Ian shake in his shoes, let alone this piece of work. “I called what’s between your legs a cunt. Nothing wrong with calling it what it is. Now if I had called you a cunt, then that would be different.” I look over my shoulder. “Right, Ian?”
“I’m not even getting involved in that discussion. Bring it up with my mother. You know, the woman who hired the PI following you around, Stephanie.”
This is getting good.
I brush my fingers against Stephanie’s bare arm. In truth, I wouldn’t say I’m sexually attracted to this woman personally. My name isn’t Eva Warren. Though I am attracted to this situation at hand. A bratty sub here to try to have her way with me and my Dom partner? Goodness. Someone get me a fan and a glass of ice water.
I haven’t had a bratty sub in forever. They were men, anyway, which is a different ballgame.
A woman would be completely different. Ian jokes about me being a brat when we’re having a scene. Of course, he doesn’t say that I’m a brat, per se. More like insolent. A more sophisticated word for a more sophisticated woman.
So, Stephanie is a brat.
“You two are unbelievable…” She keeps saying that, but I’ve noticed she hasn’t moved. I mostly told her that to give her the shakes and get her out of my home. I don’t want to see her face or ass again, not even on my TV – although it sounds like Caroline took care of that. “I can’t believe this is happening. Wait until the press hears about this…”
“The press doesn’t give a fuck, sweetie. We’re rich as hell. We’re powerful. My social circles already know I’ll get down on my knees and suck Ian’s cock at any notice. Who cares? What are you going to do?” I step closer, our bodies too close for either of our comfort. “What I want to know is… how do I get rid of you forever?”
Stephanie crosses every limb possible and wrinkles her nose at me. “Come again?”
“You know what I fucking mean. How do I get you away from me for the rest of my life? How do I get you to leave me alone? Do you want money? Fine.” I let my teeth scrape my lips on that word. “I’ll give you a million fucking dollars to get away from me forever. To get away from every person on this planet with the last name Alison or Mathers. I dropped fifteen million on The Grand to clean up one of your boyfriend’s finance messes. I can afford another million. Consider it my generous donation to you trying to get your life back together.”
Stephanie opens her mouth.
“Do you want business connections? I know a couple Hollywood people. A couple Broadway entrepreneurs. They might take pity on you if I put in a good word. Or maybe you want a comfy place to live. I’ll get you a house in some nowhere fuck all town. Hey, I’ll even pitch in a few extra dollars for you to get your kid back, if he even knows who the hell you are.”
I thought that would strike a nerve, but Stephanie is snorting as if it means nothing to her. “What would you know? You’ve got everything you ever wanted, rich fucking princess you are. You even got the guy.”
“I was an idiot,” Ian admits. “She got me twelve years ago. I was too dumb to see it. So, sorry Stephanie, if you think about it, I was cheating on Kathryn when I was with you. I simply didn’t know it.”
Aw, that was almost sweet!
“Or maybe you want something else.” I look her up and down, grinning, watching the way her knees buckle every time I use this tone of voice on her. “There’s a reason you got so pissed at Ian. If this were about the name thing, you would be over it by now. Not this vindictive. No, you clearly feel like you’re missing out on something else. What was it, Stephanie?” I’m uncomfortably close to her, my breath hitting her skin, warming her, making her shudder beneath my shadow. “Did you like the taste you got from him? Did you like the way he pushed you against that wall and came inside you? Because I know how good that feels too.”
Her lips curl into a sneer, but she doesn’t say anything.
“You wanted him to dominate you. You wanted to go deeper in
to the lifestyle with him. I’m sorry you didn’t have that chance, but you need to let it go. Unless…” I raise my eyebrows, inspecting her body, hilariously similar to mine. Never let it be said that Ian Mathers doesn’t have a type, and not just blond. “What you really want from us is more of that domination.”
“What do you mean us?”
“Oh, you poor child.” Her skin is hot with fever as I stroke her cheek with my knuckles. “You don’t get him without me. We’re a couple. We do everything together… we’re obnoxious like that.”
I don’t look over my shoulder to see how Ian’s reacting. I know damn well how he’s reacting. It’s called a hard-on and a drooling mouth. I remember how he acted at the Château. He about died watching me dominate a more than willing sub, let alone a bratty one.
To this very moment I maintain I’m not gay. I mean, I am far, far from gay. Maybe deep inside, if I thought long and hard about it, I’m bisexual. I don’t mind the idea of a woman being sexy for me once in a while. In my kinky lifestyle, it’s going to happen. Those opportunities, that is. But I am much too happy with my relationship with men – let alone my man – to ever think too hard about it. Yet I don’t feel disgusted when I take Stephanie and draw her into a kiss.
All three of us die. Stephanie, because she wasn’t expecting it. Me, because I didn’t think she would be so soft and malleable. Ian, because ahahaha do I have to tell you why? He probably thinks it’s his fucking birthday up in here.
Well, now I know what to get the man who has everything for his birthday.
When I push her away from me, Stephanie stumbles backward, landing on my couch and sliding down to the floor. It’s ridiculous how she moves, as if she’s a ragdoll punched in the gut. I don’t move. Ian doesn’t say a thing, although he’s suppressing one of his dumb, arrogant grins.
Stephanie wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. I go to my purse and pull out my checkbook.
“How much do you fucking want?”
She no longer has ferocity in her eyes. At first I’m not sure what it is. Then I garner – it’s probably lust. Stephanie May is an easy woman to figure out. I was right when I pinned her real beef with Ian was that he teased her with hot domination and then kicked her to the curb. For me, no less. I’m not going to apologize for that. She could have gone back to The Dark Hour and found her a new Dom instead of being a vindictive jerk. She can be happy with some money, like any good red-blooded American.
“How about $200,000?” I write out a check to her. “That would be like if you kept blackmailing me for four more months. Should be enough to get you back on your feet, wherever you go. Pay off some Hollywood producer to put you in an indie movie that makes people like you again. Assuming, of course, you can actually act.” I laugh as I hold the check over her head.
“Nah, Katie,” Ian says behind me. “She’ll want more than that. She’s the type of woman who can’t be fed on mere money alone.”
“You’re right.” I snatch the check back before Stephanie can grab it. “She wants other kinds of fulfillment, not just money.” To her horror, I rip the check in half, letting the pieces sprinkle on top of her. Her cheeks flush pink. Her nipples keep hardening. This is too easy.
The more I realize she’s getting turned on by my attitude, the more I imagine her being batted around like a cat toy between Ian and me.
“What is it?” I kneel down next to her. The Stephanie who stormed into my apartment would have lashed out. Maybe slapped me. Now she’s merely looking away, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “Is this turning you on, Stephanie?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Because I think you’re thinking about Ian fucking you, and me slapping these tits around.”
I give her a taste of that. Not the fucking or tit slapping, but a pinch to her arm that says, “You’re my sub and you will obey me.”
Stephanie bites her lip and lets out the unmistakable whine of a sexually frustrated sub.
She’s probably got a lot of demons inside her. How can she not, when she’s done what she has to achieve her dream of being a starlet? I don’t even doubt she’s done things that disgust her, both sexually and emotionally. I’ve heard the horror stories. Of course, I’m not going to bring those up. That would be tasteless and do nothing but fuel my own sense of vengeance against this woman. I’m not like that.
I am, however, sympathetic, especially since I know what it’s like to keep a million confessions bottled up inside.
I take my phone out of my purse and send off a curt text message. Ian’s watching me, but doesn’t say anything. The response I get is exactly what I wanted.
We’ve got half an hour.
Chapter 32
KATHRYN
“Don’t make them so tight,” Ian scolds me, pushing my hands out of the way so he can finish the knot himself. “You’re going to cut off circulation to her hands. You want her suing us?”
“And don’t you give her ideas,” I hiss back at him. Before us, trapped against the back of my couch, is Stephanie may with her skirt pulled up over her ass and her hands latched together. Unfortunately, my knot wasn’t good enough for Ian’s tastes.
How we came to this situation is hilarious enough to warrant me explaining. The moment I realized what Stephanie needed to get her life back in order was the moment I sent off that text message. Next thing I knew, I told Ian to grab a tie out of the bedroom and to make himself useful. Stephanie was going to get some old-fashioned kinky medicine.
And we were probably going to get off on it. By “we,” I mean all three of us. At least I don’t have to look at Stephanie’s raging blue balls like what Ian’s got cocked and ready to go in his pants. He’ll probably bust both nuts by the time our half hour is up.
Good.
I test how tight Stephanie’s binds are before pulling her hair back into a ponytail. A rubber band snaps into her thin, stringy blond hair. I let the ponytail fall over her side as I unzip her dress and expose the nice line of her back. Sometimes I forget how beautiful she actually is. I’m usually too furious at her to see anything but that smile, full of malice.
She’s not smiling now. And she’s definitely not full of malice.
If her black thong is any indication, she’s aroused as fuck and ready for her punishment.
“You know what’s going to happen, right?” I gently yank on her hair, like Ian would with mine. I want to look into her eyes as I tell her this. “You can say no. We’re being a bit sadistic, but we’re not… what you implied earlier. We’re doing this because we all want it. Right?”
When she can’t get words out, I slack on my grip and watch her nod her head.
“Your safe word is Blue.” Like hell she gets a great, romantic color like Red. That’s between Ian and me. “Now… what do you call me, girl?”
She sneers, but it’s in that delightfully bratty way I was thinking about earlier. “Mistress.”
“Perfect. Now what do you call him?”
Ian stands behind Stephanie.
“Sir.”
I tap her ass. “No. Try again.”
Her lips twitch. “Master.”
Normally I wouldn’t want any other woman calling my Ian that, but it’s imperative tonight. “That’s right. Now, tell me what’s going to happen?”
Stephanie’s whole body tenses. “You’re going to spank me.”
“Who is going to spank you?” I go from pulling her hair to stroking it. “Me or him? You have to choose. You only get one of us.”
Because she’s the most heterosexual woman in the room, she tells me she wants Ian to make her ass red.
“Of course you do.” I wrap my arms around my boyfriend, rubbing his chest through his shirt before descending my hand to his zipper. “Don’t think for a moment you’re fucking her,” I mutter into his ear.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. It’s not my birthday.”
Nevertheless, I undo hi
s belt buckle and start pulling the length of the leather out of its loops. He doesn’t actually need a belt to hold up his pants. He likes showing it off. For fashion. When you think about it, it’s even hotter that he’s got his initials etched into the metal. Because he would.
I put his belt in his hand. “I trust you know how to use this on a first-timer.”
“Do you call me Master?”
I wink at him before stepping in front of Stephanie again. “Only once in a while.”
The woman I encounter on the other side of my couch is closing her eyes and bowing her head. Classic submissive. She’s a special case, though, and I want her to look me in the eye.
“You’re in for a treat today, Stephanie,” I say as Ian doubles up his belt and wraps one end around his hand. Between the belt and Stephanie’s ass, I can’t tell which is turning him on more. “Usually we Doms save the belt for when we know our subs a bit better. They can get a bit… out of hand. And only an experienced Dom should try to control them, you know.” I nod at Ian. “Good thing you and I have excellent taste.”
Ian’s used his belt on me once. Warning taps. A hard hit right on my ass to make sure I knew who was in charge. It was hot. And painful.
At least I know he can use it safely.
“You’re special to us. You’re such a pain in our ass that we want to make sure you enjoy every exquisite moment of the pain we’re about to hand you. Don’t worry. Your ass will only be red for a while.” I reach over and pat it when my hand. She may be past thirty, but Stephanie’s flesh is as supple as mine was at twenty-two. “Ian knows what he’s doing. Now…” As Ian lines himself up and does a couple practice smacks against the back of the couch, I rub Stephanie’s shoulder in the most calming way I can summon. “Tell us why you’re here, sweetie. And don’t hold back the truth.”
She scowls at me. “I fucking hate you.”
Well, I don’t think she’s lying.