Decadent Master. Tawny Taylor
sighed. “So tell me, baby brother, why didn’t you want this job? Looks like it’s a no-brainer. Practically runs itself.”
Rolf shrugged. “Like Shadow said, I like to play. I didn’t want to work here. Are you hating it as much as I thought you would?”
“More.”
“Damn. Sorry, bro.” To his credit, Rolf looked genuinely apologetic.
“No reason to apologize.” Dierk hit a few keys, switching the monitor to the camera focused on the St. Andrew’s cross. A scene was just getting started, a Dom and his female submissive. The Dom was securing his sub’s arms to the cross. “It’s not your fault. No one made me take the job. I could have said no.”
“No, you couldn’t. For all your rebellion, we all know that you have never refused Shadow. Why is that, by the way?”
“Long story.”
“Well, we’ve got lots of time. The club doesn’t close for hours…. Hey, who’s that?” Rolf circled around the desk, peering over Dierk’s shoulder. “Ohhhh, damn.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Move the camera that way.” Rolf pointed at the left edge of the screen.
Dierk hit the keys, remotely adjusting the camera’s angle until it focused on Master Nevin, standing next to a tall blonde. Human, no doubt.
“Shit, that’s Angeleque. She’s not into Nevin but she’s too polite to tell him to take a hike. I should go rescue her.”
“You’re quite the Galahad, aren’t you, bro?” Dierk glanced over his shoulder.
“Hell no, I just don’t like to share my subs.” Rolf clapped Dierk on the back then rushed toward the door. “It’s playtime. Later.”
“Yeah.” Once again, Dierk found himself sitting in an office he had never wanted, watching the action going on in the dungeon instead of being the center of it.
This was hell.
Thanks to that hot little brunette, Wynne, his blood was simmering. His cock was hard. His balls were tight.
He wanted a fuck.
He needed to fuck Wynne.
No, that was the last thing he needed: to get involved with a new submissive, a woman who was obviously going to need some stability and patience. Neither stability nor patience came to him naturally.
What the hell was he thinking?
Rolf hurried into the dungeon expecting a fight. Now, on top of the erotic heat blazing through his body, his nerves were on edge. Muscles tight. Fists clenched. Jaw locked. Adrenaline charging through his system.
Nevin, one of his least favorite Doms at Twilight, had his most favorite submissive cornered, literally. And damn if Rolf was going to let the asshole get away with it. Without hesitating, he came up behind the guy and said, “You’re late.”
Nevin threw him a scowl, growling. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”
“My pet.” Rolf pointed at the blonde, currently looking like she was ready to go hysterical on them, any second now.
Dammit, he’d worked so hard to get her this far. He didn’t need Nevin taking her three steps back.
Angeleque was a pain slut. How she loved the whip. But she didn’t handle the containment side of playing at all, due to a persistent case of claustrophobia. The girl panicked if she was blindfolded. She stopped breathing when her arms were restrained. Mummify her, and she’d probably die from terror.
And of course, Nevin just loved containment play. Mummification was his special vice.
Much to Rolf’s surprise, Nevin grunted and stepped aside.
Angeleque rushed past Nevin, eyes wide with fear. “I came looking for you.”
His nerves still raw, Rolf grumbled, “I’ve told you before. You wait for me in the lobby.”
She nodded.
“Now come on.” He nudged her ahead, toward his private suite. He needed relief. Now. An hour spent with Wynne had left him with balls heavier than concrete. “You’ve made me wait long enough.”
“Yes, Master. I’m sorry for being late, Master.”
He followed her, mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she walked. The girl was a runway model, and damn, did she know how to work those mile-long legs of hers. He couldn’t wait until they were locked around his waist.
He unlocked the door, ushered her inside, and then relocked the door behind them. “Strip,” he barked, turning toward the bag Angeleque had carried in with her. He pulled out his cat-o’-nine tails, a dildo, anal plug, lube, and rubbers. By the time he’d filled his arms with the toys, his submissive was naked and on her knees, head bowed, back arched deliciously, full breasts thrust forward.
Her nipples were tight and hard.
His gaze fixed on those pink beaded tips. “Excellent. Now present, my pet.” Damn, he’d forgotten the nipple clamps. He set the supplies on a nearby table, then went back to the bag for the forgotten clamps.
Meanwhile, his pretty plaything ran through her presentation like a pro. She learned quickly, was shaping up to be a fine submissive, despite her fear of being restrained.
He punished her first, for being late, by teasing her with the thong of his whip, letting the leather strap slide over her golden skin instead of striking her with it. Within minutes, goose bumps covered her back and she trembled, murmuring, “I will not be late,” over and over, until she was nearly in tears.
As a reward, he closed the nipple clamps over her tight buds, then told her to stand against the wall, her back to him. Pressing against her back and grinding his pelvis against her soft derriere, he lifted her arms up over her head and kicked her feet apart. “Be still for your reward.”
“Yes, Master.”
He stepped back and sent the whip sailing through the air, snapping at her flesh, striking the top of her left buttock. She sighed but didn’t move. The pink stripe the lash left behind was a glorious sight. He struck her again, this time on her right ass cheek. And again. Again. Until she was panting and hot juices were dripping down her thighs.
The heavy odor of her arousal filled his nostrils, making the weight in his balls five times more agonizing. There was nothing in this world that smelled better than a woman on the verge of coming. It was a fragrance he couldn’t drink in fast enough, take in deep enough.
Intoxicating.
Quickly he tore off his clothing, leaving only his leather pants. Dammit, he wanted to fuck her. His groin was aching with pounding heaviness. But he didn’t fuck his submissives. Never. He would jack off. Later, after Angeleque left him.
Damn, he hoped he could wait that long.
It was Wynne’s fault. He could still see her, in his mind’s eye. That sweet face. Those shyly inquisitive eyes. That lush mouth, so tempting. He’d been in throbbing pain since she’d left.
But that didn’t mean he’d cheat his pet out of her pleasure. No matter how agonizing it was, he’d make himself wait. It was going to fucking kill him, but that was the way it had to be. He had to stay focused on Angeleque, on her needs, on her training.
Now that she’d received a reward, it was time to test her with some restraints. Then he’d reward her once more, reinforcing her training.
His pet loved anal play. Maybe he’d fuck her ass with a dildo. Yes, that was what he’d do. That way, he could imagine he was pounding his rod into Wynne’s tight little anus. He was nipping Wynne’s slender neck. He was sinking his fangs into Wynne’s soft shoulder. He was hearing his name murmured in Wynne’s voice, as she sighed in ecstasy.
“This way.”