“I have red hair,” I muttered.
“Like auburn red?” Bane looked at me as if trying to superimpose my features on Fizz.
“Copper penny.”
“Pretty. Long or short? Straight or curly?”
Boy, he just never let up. “Long. It was wavy when I was alive, but since it frizzed I always ironed it straight.”
I was getting sleepy, thank goodness. I was more than ready to escape Bane’s interrogation. If he was this dogged just for a girl’s physical description, how rough was he on criminals when trying to gain evidence?
I settled back on the sofa, getting comfortable. I’d forgotten how heavy sleepiness felt, dragging down the eyelids, making the head feel thick and slow. It was a nice feeling. I missed sleeping.
“Eyes?” Bane’s voice came from far away even though he came over to perch on the edge of the couch.
I yawned. “Green.”
“Like hazel or really green?”
I thought how nice it would be to drift into slumber held in those big, strong arms of his. Oops, bad thought. “Really green,” I told him.
“Red hair, green eyes. A temper to match, from what I’ve seen. I bet you were a beauty.” His fingers stroked Fizz’s much shorter hair.
The gentle touch lulled me. My eyes slid shut. “Good enough for men to wear on their arms to impress their friends,” I mumbled.
“Trophy girlfriend, huh? That’s too bad. There’s a lot of substance to you. I hope your current boyfriend sees that.”
I snuggled down into the sofa and came in contact with Bane’s thigh. He was so warm, even through his jeans. I slid close, aligning my cheek, chest and stomach against his leg. I curled an arm around his thigh, cuddling it like a teddy bear.
“Dan’s not too happy with me right now,” I said. “He’s really mad at what I did with you.”
“I’d be jealous too if I was him. I wouldn’t want to share such a special lady either.”
His arms were around me, lifting me up. Then Bane’s mouth was on mine, tender and sweet. He kissed me long and slow, and if I hadn’t been so stoned, I might have climaxed just from that delicious kiss. Gosh, that werewolf knew what he was doing.
My sluggish brain managed to warn me, and I jerked away. I pried my eyelids open. Boy, he had pretty gold eyes. “I told you no, Bane. Only a big jerk takes advantage of a drugged woman.”
“It’s Levi.” He laid me back down on the couch, his dark face deepening in embarrassed color. “Sorry, sugar. You’re hard to resist.”
I scowled, letting my two-ton eyelids close again. “It’s Fizz’s body, and you didn’t want it when she was in control.”
“I like a woman who gives good brain, you know? Giving good head was just the icing on the cake.”
I could hear how badly my words were slurring. “You’re a pig. A pig in wolf’s clothing. I’ve got to get out now before the drugs take me with her.”
“This should keep her down for at least seven hours. Get back before then just to be safe.”
I was slipping down a long tunnel, Bane’s words getting farther and farther away. It took real effort to yank myself out of the body tumbling into drugged sleep. But I jerked free, and I found myself standing next to Bane and Fizz, alert once more.
Fizz fought the drug for a moment, muttering something profane about Bane’s mother before succumbing.
The agent shook his head, grabbing an afghan off the back of the couch to cover her with. “Welcome back, chick. Not very nice of you, trying to turn me in.” He tucked her in. “Have a good nap, Fizz.”
He went to the kitchen, eating old, cold pizza in front of the open refrigerator door in silence, the expression on his face telling me his thoughts were a million miles away. I waited a few minutes to make sure Fizz was down for the count before heading to the library.
Chapter 9
“You never punish a sub when you’re angry,” Tristan told Dan.
I’d come to the library to discover both men waiting for me. Tristan had decided it was time to deal out the discipline for my infidelity to Dan. I knew Tristan was upset too, but with his blood groupies he didn’t have a leg to stand on as far as chastising me. So this was to repair my relationship with our Dom-in-training.
I can’t say I was happy to be facing punishment, but I was eager to make amends somehow. Especially since I had committed extra misbehavior by getting off on a dry hump with Bane, which I had no intention of sharing with either boyfriend. I just couldn’t handle hurting them anymore than I had. The guilt I felt was huge.
So here I was, kneeling naked on the wood floor of the library at their feet, my hands bound behind me and a ball gag shoved in my mouth. I kept my head bowed down subserviently as I waited to find out what sentence Tristan had decided upon. I prayed that whatever it was, it would be enough for Dan to feel we could start over.
I watched one of Dan’s loafered feet tap impatiently in front of me. “I’m angry all right. So what does that mean? We don’t discipline her for misbehavior?”
“Think about it, Dan. Can you trust yourself not to lose control right now?”
I heard real heat in Dan’s voice. “It’s low to wave that in my face.”
He was referring to the desperate, panicked anger that had made him take the life of a crooked IRS agent who was looking to blackmail him. Dan had died in prison while serving a life sentence. The fear of losing everything; his wife, children, home, and business had driven him to do the unthinkable. His uncharacteristic actions haunted him to this day.
Tristan’s tone stayed even. “I’m not waving anything in your face. It’s a valid concern. If I laid my hands on her right now I’d not just hurt her, I’d damage our relationship. I’m that angry.”
My heart was heavy to hear him say that. Nothing hurts a sub worse than her Dom’s disappointment. I really deserved whatever punishment he had decided on. Not to mention I couldn’t seem to curb my fascination with Bane. Maybe a good round of harsh discipline would cure that.
Dan sighed. “Okay. So what do we do with her then?”
“We leave it to others to punish her, those who can be subjective about it.”
I started. He was going to have another Dom reprimand me? I swallowed hard against the gag. Someone with no emotional involvement could be a harsh taskmaster. Maybe Tristan had a sadist in mind. I turned cold. Light pain was one thing, but I’m not really a masochist.
Dan’s tone echoed my worried thoughts. “Like who?”
“Grab on and come with me.”
Tristan grasped my shoulder, and after a moment’s hesitation, so did Dan. The pant legs and shoes before me smeared as we started our transport, and I closed my eyes, afraid of where Tristan would take me.
I heard rather than felt our arrival. I smelled sweat, cologne, leather, and sex. The familiar sounds of club music, things hitting flesh, and eager moans and sighs popped my eyes wide open. We were at a BDSM club.
Well, there were certainly worse places to end up. Warm fuzzies tumbled in my belly to see a gleaming bar area tended by a bulldoggish man in black leather with Doms and Dommes lined up, sipping drinks and exchanging comfortable conversation. Subs knelt at their feet, many wearing collars and little else. Some were on leashes. Still more people sat around tables. Everyone had that ghostly sense of otherness, that insubstantiality that souls possess even though we appear solid to one another.
Dan’s voice was hushed with shock. “Good night.”
I dared to peek up at him, and saw he stared at something behind me. I cautiously turned my head to have a glance at what had caught his attention.
Ah, the play area.
My lower parts really heated up to see several scenes acted out under bright spotlights. A naked sub was spread out on a St. Andrews Cross, her buttocks and thighs wearing the stripes of the expertly wielded whip flicked by a bare-chested Dom. As I watched, the whip snapped her rear, and she moaned with trembling delight. She strained to push her hips back, begging for mor
e.
Next to them, a male sub was strapped to what looked like a padded sawhorse. His Domme, gorgeous in a rubber suit that looked like black liquid, paddled him thoroughly while pumping his cock in one tight fist. Through his sobs I heard him say, “Please Mistress, may I come?” over and over. She said nothing, just continued to punish and delight as he wept, tears rolling down his strained face.
Further over, ropes knotted in what looked like a giant spider’s web snared a plus-sized blond beauty. Her wide open thighs were twined in the web, leaving her vulnerable to the vibrator her tall, thin Dom pressed to her swollen clit. She couldn’t beg for release for the ball gag stuffed in her mouth, but her shrieks of agony were plain to hear as the Dom, wearing a cape and leather pants, removed the humming instrument as soon as she neared climax.
I would have loved to be any of those subs right now, especially since I knew whatever I was about to endure wouldn’t be nearly as enthralling.
It was no surprise to me that a BDSM club existed on the ghost plain. There was probably a solid version right here on this spot, existing in the mundane reality and entertaining the living version of the kinky underworld. The kind of emotion that comes from BDSM play is extreme in that so much of the artifice we display to others is stripped away in these places. Playing out scenes exposes us, subs and Doms alike, in ways that can bring euphoria and agony of an emotional sort, far stronger than what we experience physically.
A solid wall of man approached us. I dropped my eyes instantly after catching a glimpse of wiry black hair peppered with gray surrounding a craggy dark face with piercing eyes. This man exuded power, the kind of Dom subs dream of serving and other Doms aspire to be like. I prayed he wouldn’t be in charge of my punishment. The thought made me tremble.
His voice was strong enough to have weight. “Tristan! I haven’t seen you in forever. How are things out your way?”
I sensed them shaking hands. “It’s been better, Miguel, but I’m glad to see you. How have you been?”
“Wonderful, wonderful. And your friend?”
“Dan Saling.” More hand shaking. “He’s new to the scene, but learning quickly.”
“Good to meet you, Miguel.”
“And you, Dan. Is training what brings you to Atlanta?”
Tristan sighed. “I wish. This sub needs punishment, and we’re too emotionally involved to carry it out. You always get such good results. Do you have the time?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I was in so much trouble. All the arousal I’d gotten from watching others play was gone.
“I always have time to correct a disobedient sub. What’s her weakness? I have a lovely cane I wouldn’t mind using on such a soft, perfect butt.”
“That would be a reward. She’s a bit of a pain slut. What she hates is humiliation.”
Oh please no. I moaned.
“Silence,” Tristan ordered, and I smothered my agony.
“Ah, then a group scene would work well. I’m thinking some time front and center in the stocks will do her good. We’ll share out the naughty girl’s beautiful back yard. We’ll turn what she likes into a torment.”
Tristan’s molasses-smooth voice held a note of approval. “Yes, that should work fine. Thank you.”
“No problem. I’ll be the first to set the tone of the discipline. It’s so good to see you, and to help you out is always a pleasure. Sub, on your feet and follow me.”
There was harsh command in that voice, and I knew I’d find no sympathy from Master Miguel. I could only hope obedience would afford me some small concession.
I followed the barrel-shaped Dom to the play area where a set of stocks materialized in front of all the other apparatuses. I shuddered. I would be the center of attention, made an example of in front of everyone. A disobedient sub, an object of disdain. I would rather be beaten until my skin hung in ribbons from my body than shamed like this.
Tears were already welling in my eyes when Master Miguel opened the stocks. Behind me, Tristan untied my wrists. I kept my head down, not daring to look up into anyone’s face. This was awful. I so wanted to dematerialize right now.
“Into the stocks, sub,” Master Miguel ordered.
The only thing that made me obey was the desperate need to make things right again with Dan and Tristan. I had to acknowledge the damage I’d dealt in this public forum even though it made me feel sick inside. I placed my neck and wrists in the waiting slots. Master Miguel closed the stocks and locked them shut.
I saw others gathering around, and my apprehension jumped a hundredfold. The onlookers were quiet, anticipating something beyond a play scene was about to commence. My face heated to roasting as more people crowded around.
“Feet apart.” I felt something wedge between my ankles, something hard. A spreader bar was snapped to them, keeping my legs splayed far apart and opening my buttocks.
Master Miguel’s bulk moved before me. His wide chest and abdomen filled my vision, looking like a fortress wall. Something smooth and round was placed in my hand.
“Squeeze this in place of your safeword. Squeeze it now if you understand.”
I clenched the rubber ball in my fist and it squeaked. The broad torso turned away.
Master Miguel’s mighty voice could have been heard in the club’s farthest corner, over Katy Perry’s beautifully warbled ‘E.T.’ “Your attention, please. This sub has disobeyed her masters to the point where they cannot trust themselves to issue discipline.”
The mutters from the crowd, Doms and subs alike, were a flood of disapproval. I felt something inside me shrink at their censure.
“You may punish her for the next five minutes with paddles, floggers, canes, or barehanded spankings. Limits, Tristan?”
My beloved vampire’s volume matched Master Miguel’s. “Don’t break the skin.”
Doms and Dommes lined up. My disgrace was complete. I had never done anything as a sub to warrant this kind of punishment before. I was shaking as I waited to be taken to task, the first tear finally slipping down my cheek. Master Miguel approached with a thin cane, his mouth set in displeasure as he looked at me.
Dan’s whisper reached my ears. “Hey Tristan, don’t you think that might be too much?”
I finally looked at my sweeties’ faces and wished I hadn’t. Dan looked stricken, as if he was about to view medical experiments carried out on a puppy. Tristan’s expression was set, but he was blinking hard and fast.
He swallowed and answered, “You know she won’t be really injured, my friend. I’m not looking to see her physically hurt beyond turning her rear red since humiliation is actually her big sticking point.” Tristan sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Dan.
I heard the cane’s first strike on my vulnerable flesh before I felt it. It was explosively loud. Then the pain came, a shrieking, searing thing that dug into my flesh then burrowed deep into it.
Master Miguel’s tone was as deadly as a rattlesnake’s strike. “I don’t need to know the nature of your offense, girl. The fact that your masters are too angry to trust themselves to carry out your punishment is enough for me.”
He whacked me with his cane again, and my face clenched like a fist with the agony. I bit into the ball gag, making an ugly sound deep in my throat.
“Was what you did worth your masters’ unhappiness, sub?”
Murmurs of approval from the group crowded around me. Watching me punished not for fun, but for an infraction. A big infraction. Shame, more than the cane putting me in my place, turned the waterworks on full. I was a terrible sub. And an even worse girlfriend.
Master Miguel stepped back. “Next,” he invited.
As a crop-wielding Domme stepped up I heard Dan say, “I’m not comfortable with this.”
I saw Tristan put his arm around Dan’s shoulders. “She can safeword or transport out of here at any point. It’s completely in her hands as to whether or not she accepts discipline.”
“Look at the pain you’ve given them,” th
e Domme chastised me. I did as I was told and cried harder as she plied her crop on my defenseless bottom.
Suddenly it wasn’t about the pain or even the embarrassment of my situation. It was Dan burying his face in his hands, refusing to watch me take discipline. It was the way Tristan pressed his lips together to keep them from trembling.
The next five minutes spread out over an eternity as I was flogged, paddled, caned, and spanked. The accompanying remonstrations from the Doms and Dommes dealing my punishment made me shriveled and small. Still, I refused to safeword out, even when Dan completely turned away. Especially then. I had to make this right. And I had to be freed of my continued infatuation with Bane. If it took everyone in the club beating me all night and telling me what an awful sub I was, I’d accept it.
Netherworld II: Blood Potion No. 9 Page 13