Reese’s client base had expanded to four customers in the trendy, cool city of Austin, and Luca was coming along on this trip to install the software piece of a new client’s robotics operation. Luca had promised he had something fun planned for the evening, but hadn’t told Reese what to expect, though he had instructed him to pack and bring their now well-stocked gear bag on the trip.
“I have a surprise for you when we get there,” Luca added.
“A surprise? What? Tell me now.”
Luca shook his head, laughing. ”If I told you now, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it? Just make sure to bring our gear bag,” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Oh,” Reese breathed, thrilled. “Yes, Sir.”
Reese looked around the elegantly appointed space, impressed. “Welcome to The Sanctuary,” a tall, statuesque woman with jet black hair and very red lipstick greeted them. She was clearly a Dominatrix, dressed as she was in a black latex bustier over a white, figure-hugging leather skirt, her feet shod in six-inch black heels. “I’m Mistress Isabella.”
“I’m Luca and this is my sub, Reese,” Luca said, extending his hand. Mistress Isabella appraised Reese with a finely arched brow. He looked down with a smile, a glowing sense of wellbeing moving through him at the realization he truly did belong to Luca.
At first glance, The Sanctuary looked more like a trendy art gallery than a BDSM club, with original, avant-garde canvases hung and expertly lit along the red-painted walls. But on second glance, you noticed the wealth of sexy BDSM equipment, including St. Andrew’s crosses, spanking benches and suspension racks.
“Let me show you to your private room,” she said, gesturing for them to follow. She led them past several scenes already in action in the large room, one with two men, one with two women and one with two men and a woman, all in various states of undress and wielding BDSM toys.
As they walked along a hallway lit with wall sconces, they passed a number of doors, some closed, but several open. They caught glimpses of various settings including a medical exam room, a room filled with cages and a room covered in tile with a huge submersion tub in the center. They finally stopped at the last door on the right.
“Here you go,” the Mistress said. “You have two hours. The refrigerator is stocked with bottled water and chilled towels. Enjoy.”
“Whoa,” Reese murmured as they entered the space together. Softly lit with ambient light, every wall was covered in mirrors. There was a large, stainless steel suspension rack in the center of the room, chains hanging from the apex.
“Nice, yeah?” Luca said, looking around. He closed the door. “I wanted something simple. I liked the look of this one on their site because of the mirrors. This way I can see you from every angle while I whip that luscious ass with the snake.”
“Oooh,” Reese breathed, instantly and completely transported to submissive headspace both by the room and by Luca’s masterful tone. They’d recently purchased a single tail at Luca’s favorite BDSM shop. Four feet in length, it had a long, curling tail tipped with a wicked cracker. Luca had been practicing his technique with delicious, diabolical success on Reese’s ass. The thing stung like a motherfucker, but man, it hurt so good.
“Get out your cuffs and put them on. Then you will strip and stand under the suspension rack,” Luca instructed.
“Yes, Sir.” Reese set down the gear bag and unzipped it, pulling his much-used leather cuffs from the side pocket. He clipped each one in place on his wrists and quickly removed his clothing, leaving it in a neat pile near the door. He took his place under the rack, watching with hungry eyes as Luca, too, stripped off his things.
He could see his own body from all angles in the mirror. The marks from Luca’s amazing caning two days before had already faded, barely discernable on Reese’s ass and the backs of his thighs, and he was ready and eager to be marked again.
Luca brought a small stepstool from a corner of the room and placed it next to Reese. “Lift your arms so I can properly restrain you,” he directed. Reese raised his arms as Luca climbed the stepstool. Luca clipped Reese’s cuffs to the dangling chains and adjusted the height until Reese was pleasantly stretched, arms high overhead, feet flat on the floor.
Climbing down, Luca moved the stepstool aside and rummaged in the gear bag, returning with Reese’s black satin blindfold. Reese sighed with contentment, savoring the added sense of erotic helplessness engendered by the blindfold. At the same time, bubbles of nervous anticipation fizzed and popped in his blood.
“Twenty strokes,” Luca announced from behind him. “You will count for me.” He snapped the whip in the air, the sound automatically making Reese flinch. “You ready?”
“Yes, Sir.” As ready as one could ever be in the moment before the first stinging kiss of the lash.
His ears heard the warning whistle of the leather flying through the air, but his brain took a second longer to process the pain. “One,” he cried breathlessly.
Luca moved closer behind him, his warm chest touching Reese’s back. “Breathe,” his Master reminded him softly, his breath warm against Reese’s neck. “Flow with it. Relax.”
Reese blew out a long, slow breath that ended in a sigh. Luca stepped away.
“Two,” he gasped as the snake struck again, leaving a line of fire in its wake. That wonderful, terrible dichotomy of genuine pain juxtaposed with wild, thrilling desire and aching need for what his Dom offered never failed to entrance Reese. He settled into himself, truly ready now to receive this gift.
Luca settled into a steady rhythm, though where the cracker landed was unpredictable, moving with snake-like precision over his ass and thighs until Reese was dancing on his toes, sweat sheening his body, his breath a rasp in his throat. “Twenty,” he finally cried.
Gentle fingers untied the blindfold and lifted it from Reese’s face. He blinked in the light and then focused, entranced, on the multiple views of his naked body. His arms were extended in a Y overhead, his hands still gripping the chains above the cuffs. Beautiful, sexy welts crisscrossed his flesh—the proud badges of his submissive courage. A dark, wild joy moved through him, as powerful as any orgasm. He would have fallen to his knees if he hadn’t still been tethered into place.
Luca smiled at his reflection in the mirror. “You did good, Reese. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Reese whispered, tears suddenly coming into his eyes.
Luca set down the whip and retrieved a tube of Arnica from the gear bag. He walked over to the small fridge and pulled out a bottle of water and a small towel rolled into a cylinder. Returning to Reese, Luca, gently patted his stinging ass and thighs with the wet, chilled towel. It felt good against his heated skin, as did the soothing salve. When he was done, Luca moved in front of him with the bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and held the bottle to Reese’s lips, tipping it so he could drink. Only then did he retrieve the stepstool and climb it to let Reese down.
As Reese massaged the life back into his arms, Luca stood in front of him, his eyes still burning with a dominant fire, his cock still as hard as Reese’s. “You will thank me,” he said imperiously, though he was smiling. He placed his hands on his hips and thrust his hips forward, making it abundantly clear just how Reese was to thank him.
Reese dropped at once to his knees. He took Luca deep into his throat as he lightly stroked his balls. He loved the heavy sweetness of Luca’s hard shaft in his mouth and he moaned his appreciation as he worshipped his Master’s cock. It wasn’t long before Luca stiffened, his fingers tightening in Reese’s hair as he came in a series of spurts down his throat.
Then he pulled back and held out his hands to Reese, pulling him upright. He took Reese into his arms and kissed him for a long time. When he finally let him go, it was Luca who sank to his knees. He took Reese’s cock lovingly into his mouth. Reese groaned with pleasure, his balls instantly tightening as he struggled to hold on for just a little while.
“Heaven,” he whis
pered above Luca’s dark head. “I’m in heaven.” Closing his eyes, he ascended to the clouds.
Later that evening, after a late meal, they strolled around a lake they’d found near the hotel. The moon was full overhead, the sky clear, the December air crisp and bracing. Reese’s ass still stung pleasantly from the wonderful session at The Sanctuary.
Life was good. His career was taking off, and he was in love. Happiness filled Reese like helium. He felt as if he might rise right off the ground, save for Luca’s sure hand holding his. It was good to live a life without secrets, without shame. He’d very nearly lost the best thing that had ever happened to him, but somehow, with the intervention of friends, he’d gotten a second chance.
They’d sent Amelia a huge basket filled with all her favorite things from a Cambridge deli she loved, signing the card with: Gratefully, Luca & Reese. They’d connected with Julio, too, taking him out to dinner to thank him for his thoughtful and kind intervention, without which they might never have gotten back together.
They still kept in touch with Julio, who was enrolled in community college and was getting a degree in business administration. He had a nice boyfriend now named Rickie, a wealthy investment banker type in his thirties who really seemed to care for Julio. Reese was glad he’d left Hank’s toxic orbit and was moving on with his life, too.
He glanced over at Luca. Moonlight silvered his profile and lay along his cheekbone. Impulsively, Reese reached over with his free hand and ran his finger lightly along Luca’s jaw. Luca turned to him with a smile.
Reese smiled back and then suddenly remembered what he’d meant to tell Luca earlier. “I forgot to tell you. The jeweler called just before we left Denver. Our rings are ready for pickup when we get back.”
“Great. And I heard back from my mom. Believe it or not, they all want to come to the wedding. She sent me a really nice note that she’s glad I reached out.”
Reese took Luca’s hand. “That’s wonderful, Luca. I’m so proud of you for taking that step. It’s good to have family.”
“Yeah,” Luca said. “Thanks for encouraging me to do that. I’m glad they’re coming, but you know what?”
“What?”
“You’re my true family. You’re my home,” Luca said softly.
Reese’s eyes brimmed with happy tears. “And you’re my heart.”
Did you enjoy the story? Please be sure to leave a review here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WFJ24P4
The sequel to Dangerous Games, Turning the Tables, is coming soon!
Find out what happens when Hank Seeley finally meets his match!
Here is a sneak peek at chapter one.
Turning the Tables – Chapter One
Fuck.
He knew this day would come, but that didn’t make it any easier. It had been four months, and though Hank hated to admit it, Reese’s absence was like a missing limb. There Reese sat in a private booth, as handsome and familiar as ever, leaning toward that loser he’d abandoned Hank for. Luca. What the hell kind of name was that, anyway? Their heads were touching as they no doubt whispered stupid nothings in each other’s ears. Nauseating.
Hank looked abruptly away, trying to ignore the sudden pain in his chest. “Give me another Ketel One and tonic, light on the lime,” Hank told the bartender at Heat, a Denver gay bar he and Reese used to occasionally go to when they weren’t in the mood for BDSM play.
A good-looking guy slid onto the stool beside him and gave Hank the once-over. Dressed like a biker in leather and chain, he was tall and muscular, both arms covered in tattoos, his hair shaved close to his head. A moment ago, Hank would have considered taking him to one of the make-out rooms, but he’d suddenly lost interest in a quickie with a stranger.
He glanced again toward the couple in the booth, who seemed oblivious of everyone around them. How could Reese have just walked away from a lifetime together? They’d met senior year in high school, back when Reese was still in foster care. Hank had picked him up out of the gutter and brought him into the Seeley fold. He’d included Reese on family vacations, lavished him with material goods and, most importantly, claimed his virginity and taught him to embrace his submissive side.
If it weren’t for Hank, Reese would have ended up a high school dropout at best, and more probably in jail. Even though he hadn’t always been easy to manage, Hank had kept him in line. And Reese had enjoyed their amusing games as much as Hank had.
At least until this last time, when Reese had forgotten to play by the rules.
It had started out as their usual bet. Hank would choose the mark and dictate the terms, and Reese would execute the seduction. But this time, instead of following the script, Reese had let emotions get in the way. Now Reese claimed he was in love. What a sap. Hank had taught Reese all about lust, obligation, power and control, but love? Love made you vulnerable. Love was for losers.
Hank threw back the rest of his drink and dropped some cash on the bar.
“Hey, where you going? The night is young,” the guy beside him said with a seductive smile.
“Not tonight.”
It was nearly midnight but still he couldn’t get the image of Reese with another man out of his head. Hopefully, some rough, mindless sex with a willing rent boy would distract him enough so he could sleep. Grabbing his phone, he hit the speed dial.
“Gentleman’s Elite, how may I help you?”
“Hank Seeley. Account number 10896. Send me a blond. Now.”
He liked this new escort service. Though it was pricey, they had plenty of pretty boys who knew how to please and did what they were told. Money might not buy happiness, but it sure bought just about everything else.
When the doorbell rang, Hank almost called for Julio to get it. Then he remembered. Julio had quit, too. He really needed to get another houseboy. The most recent boy he’d hired hadn’t worked out at all. Though he’d been nice eye candy, he had no idea how to properly decant a bottle of wine or give a decent foot rub. When Hank had needed a little oral relief, the guy had freaked out, pretending he hadn’t understood that aspect of the job. Hank had had no choice but to let him go.
Getting to his feet, Hank made his way to the front door. A slender guy with blond hair to his shoulders and big brown eyes stood in the chilly October night. Hank let him in, already planning what he’d do to him.
“Hi, I’m Stevie,” the twink said in a soft, girlish voice. He ducked his head coquettishly. No doubt the shy bit was an act, but it was one Hank liked. He’d specified in his profile that he preferred the shy virginal types who trembled when he brought out the whip, but didn’t hesitate to strip and offer their ass for the lash.
“Hi there,” Hank replied. “Let me take your jacket.”
Stevie handed Hank his jacket, which he hung on the antique coatrack he and Reese had found on their last trip to Paris. Stevie wore tight black jeans and a red T-shirt with the word Queerboy painted on it in white lettering. A tattoo of a snake coiled around his left biceps.
“I haven’t seen you before,” Hank said, looking him over. “You new?”
“Yes, Sir. I just started with Gentleman’s Elite. I hope I can make you happy, Sir.”
“Me, too,” Hank said with a snort.
Stevie stared around the front hall, which had inlaid marble floors and a crystal chandelier hanging from a cathedral ceiling. “Wow, Mr. Seeley. This is some place you got.”
Hank shrugged, not interested in Stevie’s awe or compliments. “Thanks,” he said brusquely. “Let’s go upstairs to the playroom. I’m in a sadistic mood.”
“Yes, Sir,” Stevie said, if not quite eagerly, at least willingly.
As they walked up the wide, curving front staircase, Hank remarked, “I assume you know from my profile that I’m a Dom and I like it rough. The more you can take, the better the tip. Got it?”
“Oh, yes, Sir,” Stevie said quickly. “I’m a total pain slut.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear.”
He led Stevie
past the Master bedroom to the playroom at the end of the hall. Along with workout equipment, he kept a bed there, as well as a portable bondage suspension frame and a spanking bench. Hank stored his BDSM toys in an Art Deco wardrobe that contained shelves on one side and a bar on the other with hooks for hanging his various whips and floggers.
He let Stevie take it all in for a moment and then he snapped, “Get naked, boy. I’m going to use you good.”
Stevie immediately shucked his clothing, revealing his smooth, pale body. There was another tattoo on his hip, this one of a red rose. He was shaved, his cock long and thick in contrast to his slender form. He would do just fine, thank you.
Hank opened his jeans and pulled his already rising cock out of his underwear. He pointed to the carpet at his feet. “Get me hard.”
Obediently, Stevie dropped to his knees. He cupped Hank’s balls with cool fingers as he took Hank’s shaft into his hot little mouth. The guy knew what he was doing and it didn’t take long to get Hank fully erect. He had planned a whole session, starting out with a good, hard paddling to get the boy’s ass hot before he used him, but now he suddenly felt too tired. He’d just fuck him and kick him out.
“Get on your hands and knees right there on the carpet and show me that ass,” he said gruffly, forcing the image of Reese with that little twerp from his mind. Hank stepped out of his jeans and underwear, not bothering to remove his shirt.
Stevie did as he was told, twisting back to watch Hank slide a condom over his shaft and squirt lube onto his fingers. He knelt behind Stevie and pressed a lubricated finger into the boy’s tight ass. Stevie offered a few semi-convincing moans of pleasure as he pushed back against him.
“Eager slut, aren’t you?” Hank chuckled, the aphrodisiac rush of power fueling his blood. “Go on. Fuck yourself on my hand, whore.”
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