Seeing his bruised knuckles the next day had been satisfying, but not as rewarding as seeing the current, exquisite expression of gratitude on Brandy’s face.
He rolled the empty glass between his palms, keeping his hands busy so he didn’t yield to the temptation to reach out and touch her.
Niles realised he knew little about her. He’d seen her around the Den for years. She was always unfailingly obedient, but she didn’t stand out. No wonder Damien continued to have her at his events.
“If you’d like to go to one of the private rooms, Sir, I’m available.”
His cock hardened. He met her gaze. Her blue eyes were wide open and she gave him a quick smile that slammed his solar plexus. Fuck. Why had he never noticed how attractive she was? Maybe because she wasn’t the type he usually went for.
At six feet tall, his wife had looked him in the eye when she had donned the heels he liked. She’d been runway-model thin, with deep brown eyes and raven hair styled in a sleek, no-nonsense bob.
The two women couldn’t be any more different.
Suddenly, though, the idea of bending Brandy over, making her scream his name as she came, appealed to every dominant urge. Still, he didn’t want to scene just because she had a misplaced sense of gratitude. “You owe me nothing.”
“I think you misunderstood. It was an invitation, Sir.” She linked her hands at her back.
Interesting. Brandy was well trained, a perfect sub. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d tucked her hands out of sight so he couldn’t see the way she was fidgeting.
“I’m afraid I was being bold,” she said, still looking at the ground.
So she was nervous, and he understood why. Though she was often summoned to the dungeon, he was certain she initiated few, if any, of the scenes. “I respect a woman who asks for what she wants.”
As he stood, he put down his glass. Brandy didn’t glance up. He placed his forefinger beneath her chin and tipped her head back.
She smelt of cinnamon with a tangy undercurrent of arousal. The spicy scent intrigued him. He’d expected something more floral, in keeping with her femininity. For the first time since Eleanor had passed, he wanted to scene for pleasure. “I accept,” he said.
Brandy smiled.
The slow, sensuous curve of her lips made something deep inside start to melt. “After you,” he said.
She scooped up his glass and started towards the main house. Her hips swayed from side to side, not in an exaggerated movement, but with natural feminine grace. He was looking forward to getting her naked.
Responding to a male instinct as old as time, he placed his fingers against the small of her back.
Gregorio, the Den’s caretaker, opened the patio doors for them.
“We’ll be availing ourselves of one of the playrooms,” Niles said.
Gregorio drew his dark eyebrows together. Obviously, he hadn’t been expecting that news.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Gregorio said. “You as well,” he said to Brandy as he accepted the glass from her.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Niles promised.
“See that you do,” Gregorio said.
He appreciated the way Master Damien and Gregorio ensured everyone’s safety, but this time it rankled. Niles would do nothing to harm Brandy.
With a nod towards the watchful Gregorio, Niles guided her through the kitchen then down the stairs that led to Damien’s elaborate dungeon.
Niles owned a production company that often filmed at the Den, and he’d appeared in a number of their videos. He knew the rooms well, all the apparatus that was available and each of the implements he could apply to her body.
He stopped at the bar and snagged two bottles of water before asking Brandy if she had any preference on which room to enter.
“Sir?”
Clearly she expected him to make the decisions. Under normal circumstances, he would. But this evening was anything but ordinary. “This was your idea,” he told her. “So I’m betting you have an idea or two about what you’d like to have happen.”
“In that case, Sir, first door on the right.”
He nodded, pleased with her answer. Because of its sparseness, this was one of his favourite playrooms. A hook hung from the ceiling, and a chair stood off to one side, tucked beneath a padded bench. The far wall was dominated by crops, whips, floggers and a tawse handcrafted by Master Marcus. As with all the rooms, there was a small sink and counter, and a cupboard stocked with necessities, including wipes, lube, condoms and towels.
She entered ahead of him. He paused to seal them in relative privacy. At the Den, all rooms had a window cut into the door. Every interaction was observed by Gregorio or Master Damien, meaning there was no such thing as complete seclusion, a policy Niles endorsed.
When he turned, he saw her kneeling in the middle of the room, head bowed, hands on her thighs. The subs—male and female—that he professionally dominated were actors and models. Each act was scripted and choreographed, and each response was exploited to ensure maximum effect. Screaming, whimpering and begging were all expected from the participants—after all, no one wanted to pay money for a download in which the spankee was silent.
He was reminded that Brandy, too, submitted for a living, but there were no cameras, directors or second takes. This was between two willing participants for no reason other than pleasure. “Stand, please,” he said. “Hands over your head.”
Niles drew her dress up, exposing her beautiful body, inch by perfect inch.
She wore a scrap of material that served as panties. And she had on a black shelf bra that lifted her breasts. “I’m a fortunate man tonight, Brandy.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
He offered her the dress. “Fold it and put it on the counter then return to me.”
Wordlessly, she did as instructed. She stood in front of him, her legs spread slightly and her hands looped behind her back. He noticed the telltale rapid rise and fall of her chest, indicating she was not as relaxed as she appeared.
It might have been ego, but he liked to think that this might mean something to her. If it didn’t, he could live with that. Passing an hour or two together would make the evening more pleasant than he’d anticipated. “How expensive are your panties?”
“Very,” she said.
“Sorry in advance.”
“Occupational hazard, Sir.”
He crossed to one of the drawers and took out a pair of safety scissors. Almost every week, he cut the material from an actress. This, however, was different. She wouldn’t be turning in an expense report for replacement lingerie. Well, not to his company.
She stood still as he slid the blunted end between her skin and lace. “Ask me to do it.”
Brandy met his gaze. “Do it,” she said. “Cut the panties off me, Sir.”
He did. The useless scrap pooled to the floor. “I like a shaved pussy,” he told her.
“I’m pleased you approve, Sir.”
She’d given him a stock answer. Any sub, any time would reply with a variation of those words. From what he’d observed, her training had been complete, exquisite even. But something in the pit of his stomach yearned for more—demanded more—from her. Honesty. He wanted honesty.
Maybe, he told himself, this was the real her. But part of him wondered if she was different away from the Den.
Stupidly, belatedly, he looked at her left hand. No ring adored her fingers, not that that meant anything. “Remove your bra and drop it.”
Without hesitation, she did so.
The room was silent, save the sound of his heartbeat and her shallow breaths. “Look at me and tell me what you want, pretty sub.”
Their gazes collided.
“To please you,” she said.
“Then stop with the expected bullshit.”
She gasped. “I’m not sure what you mean, Master Niles.”
“I think you do.”
Over the course of several seconds, she licked her upper
lip.
“Stalling?” he asked.
“No, Sir. I’m trying to figure you out,” she replied.
“That might be the most truthful thing you’ve said yet.”
“You’re a Dom, a very experienced one.” She took her time, making every word count. “I’m a sub.”
“Is that why you approached me? Do you want me to treat you as if you’re interchangeable with any actress on the planet? I assure you, I don’t see you that way.”
To her credit, she took her time in answering. He liked that she was deliberate.
“No. It’s not.”
“I don’t have a script, Brandy. And if I did, I wouldn’t follow it. I would rather you be real with me, and natural. I need you to open up.” With the power of his will, he held her gaze captive. “I need to know about your limits, but even more, I want to know the things that quicken your pulse and the sensations that make you writhe in ecstasy. I demand your participation, but not your blind obedience. Those are my terms.”
“You’ll think I’m selfish.”
“I’m willing to take the risk.”
“In that case, Sir, I love any kind of flogging, but especially one on my pussy, followed by a long, hard fuck.”
His cock throbbed at the passion in her words. When he orchestrated a shoot, he never had sex with the actors. He’d bring them off manually or with a toy, but he kept his dick in his pants. Over the years, that had added to his mystique. He wasn’t interested in his reputation. He had one purpose—grow the company’s revenues.
“The truth is, if you get into what we’re doing, I get off.” She paused and sighed, as if either trying to figure it out for herself or find words to explain what she meant to him. “The energy builds on itself.” Her blue eyes lightened, radiating her inner enthusiasm. “I can scene with almost anyone and enjoy it as long as they do, too. I love my work at the Den.”
Niles had underestimated her earlier. He’d figured Damien continued to have her at his events because she pleased his guests and didn’t stand out, but she was more complex than that. Early in his business career, Niles had learnt that any employee with a genuine desire to please should be rewarded and retained. Damien had apparently reached the same conclusion, after all, even during times of economic hardship, the Den’s membership had continued to grow, despite some hefty membership fees. “I’d be delighted to redden your cunt,” he told her.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Even though the answer was rote, her tone conveyed gratitude. He left her long enough to grab a pair of cuffs and to lower the hook. Without being told, she extended her arms. As he fastened the soft fabric around her wrists, he asked, “Do you want to use anything other than the club’s safe word?”
“Halt is fine, Sir.”
“Any slow word?”
“I can’t imagine one will be necessary, Sir.”
Niles was adept at pushing subs to the utmost limits. After all, that created the most compelling of all videos. But he also knew how to read a sub’s non-verbal clues. He knew, oftentimes before they did, when they’d had enough. “Do you have any conditions or limits I need to be aware of?”
“I have no medical concerns. As far as limits, nothing that will leave a permanent scar.”
He nodded and affixed the cuffs to the metal hook. “If at any time you’re too uncomfortable, let me know,” he said.
“Of course, Sir.”
“Do you need a spreader bar for your legs?”
“That won’t be necessary, Master Niles.”
He knew she’d do anything he commanded, but he wanted her to be able to let go and surrender to his lash. “Would it make the experience more pleasant?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Already he was learning to look at her eyes for an answer. The depths were expressive and revealed more than her words and tone together. He saw her gratitude and anticipation. She was looking forward to this. He wondered if she often had the chance to just let go and enjoy herself. Since this was her job, it was her obligation to ensure the Den’s guests had their needs met. Tonight, he wanted more than that for her. He was glad she’d approached him, rather than wait for another Dom to claim her.
Niles fetched a metal bar. As he knelt, she widened her stance to allow him to attach the straps to her ankles.
This close to her, he inhaled the unmistakable, sharp scent of female arousal. Unable to resist, he parted her labia. “You’re already damp, pretty sub.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
He slipped a finger inside her hot pussy. She locked her knees. “It’s okay to respond. In fact, I’d like it.”
He pressed his thumb to her clit then pulled back.
“Nice, Sir.”
He alternated between applying intense pressure and a glancing touch, keeping her off guard. She swayed in time to his fingering and the way he teased her clit.
“I’m getting wetter, Sir.”
He backed off a bit. “Are you close to coming?”
“Yes, Master Niles.”
Nothing surprised him. He’d been with women who could orgasm from the lightest of touches. Others were capable of multiple orgasms. There were some who required so much stimulation that he was grateful for the assistance of an electric vibrator. Each sub was unique, and he enjoyed finding the right combination of touches that would make her respond. “Should I get you off?”
“It’s your choice, Sir.”
“Of course it is.” He slid his finger deeper before pulling out. With a rhythmic, rocking motion, he increased the frequency of his thrusts.
She whimpered.
So, damn hot. Her pussy tightened around his finger and she moved as much as the bar permitted, encouraging him to put more pressure on her clit. Wanting to please her, he followed her lead.
“I’d like to come, Sir.”
“I’m sure you would,” he said in soothing tones at odds with the way he stimulated her.
Her whimpers became groans.
“Sir, I’m going to come.”
“Not yet, you’re not.”
“Master Niles, I’m begging you to either let me come, or stop now, Sir. At least”—she dragged in a couple of rapid breaths—“slow down.”
Ignoring her, he continued the relentless torment.
“Damn, Sir…”
Her beautiful walls all but convulsed around his finger. How was it he’d never scened with her before?
“This is a taste of what’s to come, sub,” he warned. He moved his hand to sting her pussy with a quick, vicious slap.
She called out his name and jerked her hips as she came.
He reached to put one hand behind her and another on her abdomen, steadying her. She was so far gone, trembling and moaning, that he wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep her balance otherwise. He hadn’t pulled the hook taut, so it offered little support.
Niles smiled. “You’re so perfect, Brandy.” He looked up at her. A fine sheen of perspiration dotted her chest, and she took a deep breath.
When she appeared to have herself under control she said, “I came without permission, Sir.”
Like she had earlier, she tilted her head to one side. Rather than drawing her eyebrows together when she was puzzled, she angled her head. How long would it be until he knew all her responses? “Now I have a reason to punish you when I see you again,” he said.
“Punish?” she echoed. “You’re a fiend, Sir.”
“Let’s add disrespect to the list, shall we?” he mused.
“But, Sir—”
“Along with arguing.”
“I…” She closed her mouth.
“Good choice.”
Her head was still tilted, and he doubted he’d ever seen anything more charming. And he wasn’t finished with her yet. “Your pussy is bright red,” he said.
“It feels as if it’s on fire, Sir. And that was from a single smack.”
She sounded as if she were looking forward to more.
“Did you like it
?”
“Mmm.”
“I’ve heard that sound when women eat chocolate cake.”
“That, Sir, was better than cake. Even though I wasn’t supposed to come—”
“Oh, I meant for that to happen, I assure you.”
She was silent a moment before adding, “Thank you, Sir.”
He placed his hands so that both were on her rear then moved his face between her legs. “Fuck my face, pretty sub.”
Brandy was too well trained to question him or hesitate.
Instead she moved her hips.
He parted her buttocks and pressed his thumbs against her anal whorl, all the while keeping her from moving backwards.
“Dear God, Master Niles…”
He liked the high pitch to her voice, as if her vocal cords were rubbed raw by desire. After easing one thumb a bit deeper in her ass, he sucked her clit into his mouth then released her to cover her pussy with long sweeps of his tongue. He liked the musky taste of her and the urgency of her responses. If she wasn’t restrained, he had no doubt she’d dig her hands in his hair and hold his head prisoner. As it was, she had to count on him to support her weight as she ground her cunt against his mouth.
Her heat covered his face.
“Do me,” she demanded.
Fuck. This woman was hot.
It had been so long since he’d felt this alive, this engaged, that he’d go a long way to please her.
He used his tongue as she moved her hips. She bent her knees to change the angle as much as possible and give him greater access. He slid his tongue into her dampness and she screamed.
“I can’t hold off, Sir!”
In response, he forced his thumb all the way inside her tightest hole. She continued to press her pelvis forward, and he dug the fingers of his left hand into the soft flesh of her buttocks.
Without another warning, her body went rigid before she moved again in short, desperate little motions as she fought for her orgasm.
With his mouth, his touch, he helped her along.
She raised herself onto her tiptoes, and the slight shift forced his tongue deeper.
One of her heels slammed onto the floor, a sound of satisfaction if he’d ever heard one.
In His Cuffs Page 19