With this one fluid position attaining a rite of passage status amongst young subs, I learned to perfect it, too. Although, I don’t look nearly as good as Amber doing it.
With her hands pressed to the floor on either side of my feet, she goes farther down, flattening her back and kissing my feet. The moment of reverence passes as we become more than the lines of physicality. We are spiritually bound as an aura of trust ensconces us.
She blinks up, catching my steady gaze, and whispers with a hush, “For the opportunity to serve you.”
Every time Amber does this, I’m left utterly speechless by her actions. But sure enough, Kaci has plenty to say. “… Why the hell are you not at Juliet?”
With a slight apprehension, Amber says, “I’m not exactly the quality of stock they are accustomed to. I’m trailer trash.”
“One,” I say, flicking a brow up as Amber slightly smirks.
“Bullshit,” Kaci boasts as I offer my fingers to Amber. She rolls up with the same demure, sensual grace in which she went down. “That was one of the best presentations I’ve seen. Don’t knock yourself. Sal, see to it that sooner or later, she gets the formal training she deserves.”
“I will,” I say, captured by Amber’s stare.
I don’t look away as I stay entirely focused on my sub. I take the role remarkably serious as true practitioners of the art do. It is supposed to be fun and enjoyable, but I also accept the position of responsibility for my slave. I can cause harm, and I don’t mess around when the shit gets real on the floor. And it could be any floor—dungeon, gas station bathroom, or my car—if the wavelength that is running between Dom and sub clicks on, I lose my playful attitude quick. If I push her too far and she cracks, that is on me.
If she soars with all the beauty of a butterfly, I get that, too.
And I hate missing the flutter.
Finishing the bowl, Kaci picks up the riding crop as I ask, “You good, Kace?”
“Babe, if you don’t think I can touch your precious after that, you’re fucking crazy.”
“I’m just making sure,” I reply, sternly as she tosses the cane to me. “Really?”
“You are the one with caning lessons, not me,” she reminds with a wink. Talk about an ego boost. “Come here, you beautiful little doll. I cannot imagine what you are doing to Sal because you are giving me one hell of a lady boner.”
Kaci escorts her to a wooden chair as I snicker under my breath, “You don’t want the kneeler?”
“No,” she says, strategizing a plan of attack.
I’m studying the Mistress Pixie, watching me work and taking in her lessons. I know how she likes things balanced. “You ever been laced?”
“… With a rope?” Amber asks.
Kaci nods.
Amber’s reply comes quick. “No, why?”
Standing back, Kaci assesses her body as her goal in a session is always to turn the sub into a breathing piece of art. It is a wondrous sight, full of an intriguing mystery. “Because you have the figure and the malleability for it. It requires extreme patience by both parties. I’ve been on either side of a good shibari scene, and I can fathom a guess, you would probably really enjoy it with the right Master. Any limits? Triggers? Soft spots?”
“None that I know of,” Amber replies, biting her lip. “But I have limited experience with the equipment.”
“Right, cause you trained with Dom,” Kaci remarks, squatting down. “What does Sal do?” Her gaze shifts between us both as we grin, knowing we are on the radar. “Both of you relax, I’m trying to give you my insight.”
“Amber loves the belt,” I admit, crossing one arm over my chest and stroking my goatee with the other.
“I like being restrained,” Amber whispers. “Gagged.”
Kaci rises and says, “Give me five minutes.” She grabs the keys off the counter and walks to the door. Before leaving, she turns back to me and says, “Sal, make it dark. Light some candles.”
“… Dark?” Amber questions.
“Blindfold,” I reply, pulling one out of the drawer.
“Should I be nervous?”
I snarl. “Are you?”
“A little, she is Kaci Hope.”
Placing the pink and black blindfold around her head, I give a devious grin as I make it dark. I lean down, swishing my fingers between the fabric of the spanking skirt and rubbing her clit. Breathing against her lip, I growl, “And I’m Sal Raniero.”
“Don’t remind me,” she whispers as I see her quivering fingers. “This is like a sub’s wet dream.”
“I’m back,” Kaci chimes, “I’ve been waiting for someone to try this on.”
“… Please tell me you didn’t bring a spreader bar,” I announce as my view is obstructed by the lamps and bead curtains.
Amber giggles, “Flip it like a pancake-a.”
With a grin, I snicker, “Exactly!”
“No,” Kaci says, wheeling in the antiquated looking wooden stock from the past. She lifts her eyes several times in quick succession. “You like?”
“Where the hell did you get this?” I say, admiring the piece of furniture as she locks the wheels. “Most stocks I’ve seen are kneelers.”
“I know! I came across it by accident. I’ve had it for a bit,” Kaci says, adjusting the height of the stock and unfastening the arm and head holes. “It belonged to Melissa “Mel” Lemieux before she passed away.”
Amber mutters, “She owns The Dollhouse.”
“Correction—did,” Kaci says as I give her a baffled stare. “Sal is about to own it.”
“You bought The Dollhouse?” I ask, bewildered. “You realize who built The Dollhouse to be what it is?”
“Yes,” Kaci says with a smirk. “Angelo Gennaro. And now, the Raniero Kid owns it. Funny how things work, isn’t it?”
“We need to talk about some things.”
“Probably!” She agrees with a lift of her finger. “But not tonight. Tonight, you two are going to enjoy this piece and one another.”
One glance at her eyes tells me more than I need to know. “Are you staying?”
Kaci smiles. “For a bit.”
Taking Amber’s hand, I lead her to the piece of furniture and carefully position her head and arms before locking her in. I lower down and strap her ankles as my fingers brush along the leather of her sexy black heels. Her ass puckers out as the fabric pieces reveal her fine porcelain flesh. I smooth my hand over her rump and dip my finger teasingly between her pussy lips. Amber jerks, trying to move and gasping with a moan when she can’t. “Breathe, baby.”
I can torture her for hours.
“Oh, I did good,” Kaci gloats from the sofa. “Look at you, Sal, enjoying my new toy.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
With a grin, my darling wife replies, “You’re welcome.”
With Amber latched up in the stock, I’m remarkably excited. It’s a rare piece for an extraordinary girl, and I did well by bringing her here to play with my husband. “I want a round with her.”
Sal peeks from around the furniture. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I want to prep her.”
He kisses her head and says, “Behave, Lady Mae.”
“Yes, Master Nero.”
“I like it. Lady Mae,” I say, rolling it off my tongue. “Safeword?”
“We’ve never had one,” Sal answers from the sofa. “She’s not a fighter in a scene.”
I encircle the furniture, judging the angles and possibilities of said device. I eye Sal and shift my hips in a fucking motion at her face. “Too bad I’m not taller.”
He grins and laughs. “You always wanted one.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me about the natural Dominating tool men have.”
I grab the box of clothespins and wedge my tiny frame underneath her as she asks, “Kaci, what are you doing?”
“Having fun!” I release the cups of the corset and take sight of her lush tits up close and personal. “These real?”
&nbs
p; “Yes,” they both chime off in unison.
I smile, knowing how right I was in my decision of Amber “Lady Mae” Rosen. My fingers delicately trace around her nipples, rising them to stiff peaks. I lift up slightly and take one in my mouth as she moans, “Hell, girl.”
Distracting her, I ask, “You like my husband’s dick?”
“Yes.”
I strategically place one clothespin on the underside of her breast, avoiding the nipple. I pop my gum and say, “Where do you like Sal to stick it?”
“Anywhere he would like,” Amber whispers as I run the line of zippered pins along the underside and tug the single off. “Ow!”
I hear Sal snickering as I grin and demand, “More specific, bitch.”
With a few deep breaths, she says, “I like it when he takes me from behind.”
Moving slightly, I spot Sal, sipping on some whiskey with his hand on his crotch. I make quick work of the whole piece, and two half-moon zippers later, I finally snap one on each nipple.
“Breathe, beautiful,” Sal encourages.
Studying her wet cunt, I request, “Sally, come get your hard dick in her mouth.”
I see his legs and hear the sound of his zipper. “How are we on height?”
“We…are…good,” Sal groans as his monster is getting a decadent lip pampering. “So fucking good.”
“Yeah, I thought you would like this,” I observe, scooting back between her legs. “I’m doing singles. Ready, babe?”
A moment passes where I hear only sucking and slurping and moaning. “Ya. Do it.”
“Where did you go…ow, holy!”
I begin lining her puss lips with more clothespins. “That’s why.”
“Breathe,” Sal gently reminds. “Will you not bite?”
“Fuck no, I won’t bite,” she huffs before adding, “… Sir.”
The smell of her dampness is intoxicating, and I’m more aroused than I have been in a long time. “Okay, she’s all prettified. Have fun. If you swat them off, do it fast. And Amber, you handled that better than a lot of seasoned subs, you should be proud of yourself.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
I plop on the loveseat where I can see her and him. He is slow and calculating as his sinewy muscles flex in his forearms. He pops his belt out of his jeans and doubles it over. He wallops her ass once, and she groans as her skin reddens quick.
“Damn, she marks good,” I marvel.
Freezing in place, Sal turns to give me a dreadful gaze.
Yes, that is what I want.
Fuck it up, baby.
Make a mess and get her begging.
I refill the bowl and enjoy the show of my creation and his pet in the most rewarding moment of my life. His meticulous strokes never miss the target, but when he grabs the cane, I think I may come just watching. The smack of cane to wooden clothespins is a different noise for which I can offer no comparison. The closest thing is traditional paddling with a ruler, but even that diminishes the glorious overture he plays as the pins go flying off of her puss and around the room.
“You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes, Sir,” she mumbles out. “Please fuck me.”
“How do you want me to fuck you?”
Her mouth droops as she licks her lips. “I want Kaci in my ass and you in my cunt.”
Sal turns to look at me, and I shrug with a smirk. “Not my fault.”
“Please,” she cries out, begging. “I need you both.”
He takes his time, pacing and choosing which ones to remove. Every third one, he greets her ass cheek with his palm. Together – Sal and Amber – are an impressive and critical coupling, and I see it. He is good, and she listens. If I'm honest, she is a better submissive than I ever was. She’s not vacant, but interactive without throwing up verbal wars.
This is where the pain comes.
Her expression shifts with every removal. Every so often, a deep moan escapes like she’s working through the pain. It isn’t easy. Nothing is.
If Amber is going to break, it will be right now, as the blood returns to the pinched spots. He makes use of the zippers, and with one pull of the string, the whole line drops beneath Amber. He moves to the other side and repeats the process as I note he has left a few pins behind in strategic spots. He unbuckles her ankles and removes her arms and head. Helping her off the platform, he tugs off the blindfold.
Her lashes flutter as her eyes glaze over, and she pants, “What’s next?”
And when she says it, I know, Sal will be fine.
Attagirl.
9. The Blessed Cock
Thursday, December 16
16 days before…
The giant red numbers read 12:31 as I carry Amber into our bedroom. She is trembling and a little mind blown. She’s never done anything like that. “I’m so fucking proud of you. You are such a good girl.”
“Sal, can you go get us a couple of bottles of water?”
Setting Amber on the bed, I say, “Sure, Kace. You need anything else?”
She shakes her head as she allows Amber to curl up beside her. It takes a lot for Kaci to warm up—to anyone—and I’m beyond impressed.
I light a smoke and head to the fridge. I grab two bottles of water, but as I’m walking back to the bedroom, I hear the elevator cranking up the shaft outside the door. With the chains still on, I crack the door and peer out. The elevator opens, and I close my eyes as soon as I see Jaid in a red overcoat and carrying a large box.
“Fuck,” I softly close the door and pray she doesn’t knock.
“Raniero,” Kaci says, standing from the bedroom doorway. “Let her in.”
Swinging the metal door wide, I fake a smile and say, “Hello.”
“You aren’t happy to see me,” Jaid says with a laugh as her eyes undress me. “But Sal apparently is.”
She sets the box on the coffee table, gives Kaci a simple peck, and passes by me. I grab her arm. “You can do better than that.”
“You’re right,” she says, slapping the crap out of my cheek. “That is for not saying goodbye.” Immediately, her hands press against my cheeks as her mouth demands a full-on Raniero tongue lashing. I hear Kaci giggle as I hoist her into my arms and wrap them under her firm ass. After a few minutes, she breaks the trance of our lips and says, “That is your hello. Now, I’m going to bed.”
She slides out of my arms and slips out the door. I’m dumbfounded as I look at Kaci. “What the fuck was that about?”
“She’s vying to be your person.”
“I have a person,” I sneer, kind of pissed off and turned on at the same time. “And she still has clothespins on her in our bed.”
Lifting her hands, Kaci says, “I’m aware!”
“What’s in the box?”
“The basics of where all the money is,” she casually says. “You will need to talk to Joe Kaiser. He has the totals of the estate. I’m not leaving you broke by any means. Don’t blow it all on hookers and cocaine.”
I bust out in a fit of laughter as I know she is playing with me. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do this tonight.”
“Yes, I did, Sal,” she says as I swoop my arms around her frail frame. “Dr. Weathers showed me the scans when I went back for the examination. I’ve got a crabby brain to match my crabby lungs and crabby kidneys. At least I’m unified.”
“Oh God, fuck no…” I bellow out as I had no clue. “… Why the hell are you in such good spirits?”
“For one, I’m high as fuck,” she says as I try and smile from beneath a shower of tears. “And two, you got a hot ass bitch waiting on you and me – both – to come and fuck her. Pull yourself together because that is exactly what we are about to do. We’ve never double pene’d anyone. It’ll be a memory worth keeping.”
“Can I throw up first?”
“Fuck no, you cannot,” she scolds, pulling my hair ever so slightly. “Pull it together. Breathe, Raniero. You are a hell of a man and Master. Now, get in there and take that damn good
slut for a ride.” Lifting my middle finger, I rub my nose. “Yeah, yeah, flip me off. Don’t make me put the cock ring on you while I fuck her.”
And with that warning shot, I run and splat on the bed.
I’m on my back, getting fucked senseless by two women I love. Amber is on my cock. Kaci is in her ass. Because of my poor reaction time, I’m being punished – and suffering – with what feels to be a gigantic fucking dildo in my ass, manipulated by none other than my Pixie.
Yes, suffering.
I popped off the clothespins from her swollen lips before she mounted the beast, but I’m having a damn good time flicking at the ones attached to her nipples. Her slickness serves as a generous greeting like dropping leis over my neck and putting a beer in my hand. All the sexual thoughts of recent fly through my head at lightning speed—Fink and his mouth and Georgia and hers. Jaid. Just Jaid, no other description is necessary. And finally, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, the one thing I can never have—Iris.
Amber understands it all with every rock and roll and clench of her pussy to my cock. The three of us are good as we soar on the rails of the endless coaster. The track will eventually drop off, and we will plunge to the earth, but until then, we sail on without a care.
Maybe this is what you do when you’re terminal.
Maybe I’m vicariously living life on a precarious edge in the space between the routine and the rift.
Maybe this is what we should all be doing.
Throwing every bit of caution and care into the wind, so we can learn to crave life. I like the simple things—morning kisses and good coffee, a ripped pair of jeans and well-worn boots, good friends and a great girl—the basics of a monumental existence so insignificant. But I understand we are nothing without one another, and then I realize how precious we all are—every soul.
No, I didn’t borrow Kaci’s pipe.
When faced with a bleak situation, I can take the lesson or drown the sorrow. The science presents itself in elementary terms. Kaci will no longer be here. Her things will exist, and her memory will, too.
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