Driving down the graveled road toward the Cattail Club, Deacon kept glancing at his sub out of the corner of his eye. Luckily, he knew this route like the back of his hand – as many times as he’d travelled it. Other than some washed out ruts from the last storm, nothing on this trek had changed in the past ten years since his first trip. And much like the first time, his cock was a steel rod in his pants.
And this time has nothing to do with unknown pleasures I would find. This time it’s all about her.
He knew Bethany thought he was rushing, but under that uncertainty she wore like a cloak, he could tell she needed more than the time spent at his house. She needed the BDSM community to recognize her role in his life.
Too bad that that specific need scares the shit out of her.
Keeping his grip loose on the wheel, he finally broke the silence. “Do you remember the rules, Bethany?”
She bit her lower lip, then sighed. “Yes, Sir. Once we enter the club, I become your exclusive property. I will stay at your left, two steps behind, unless you place me in front of you. Everything I do reflects upon you as a Dom, which is why I am not to meet any of the other Dominant’s gazes, unless directed to do so.” She shifted against the leather seat. “I am to obey instantly and without question.”
“Very good. And the last thing?” The club’s rules for claimed submissives may have seemed harsh to the untrained, but they were for the protection of the sub. Too many dominants took a direct gaze as a challenge to master the sub in question. A harsh reality, but an honest one. By adhering to the rules, it cut down on the fights between the Doms. However, he didn’t want her to forget the real reason behind their trip.
Her lips quirked up. “I’m to enjoy myself – immerse myself in the pure pleasure of submission – as my master says.”
He almost laughed at the way she threw his words back at him. More than anything he wanted to see her lost in her need to submit – to please.
Bethany whimpered under the fall of the flogger’s soft lashes as her Sir continued to flog her. Unlike his earlier punishment, this flogging was of the pleasurable type. Meant to tease while heating her skin, Deacon danced the leather across her entire back, warming her even as he drove her crazy with lust.
But not as crazy as the asshole with the remote. When she got free, she was going to take it and cram it up Tim’s ass. She should’ve realized the bartender had this sadistic dominating streak. He handled both the bouncers and the patrons of the bar with ease, no matter how much alcohol they’d consumed. The only man she’d ever seen him back down from was Deacon. At first she’d thought it was because Deacon was the owner, but seeing both men in this setting, she realized that it was because Deacon was Tim’s mentor.
She gritted her teeth as the plug flared to life once more, this time rhythmically pulsating against the tight confines of her rectum. The bursts of vibration seemed to penetrate the wall between her pussy and ass – making her even more desperate to come.
“Damn, that’s beautiful.” Tim clicked off the plug and moved closer to examine Deacon’s handiwork. Bethany could only imagine what her back looked like.
“Yes, it is.” Deacon’s tone was hoarse – a sure sign that he was beyond aroused. Would she even make it out of the club without being fucked? Her aching pussy hoped not, despite her initial unease at being the center of attention in the club.
“In fact, I think I need a closer inspection.” Deacon’s voice seemed closer. She whimpered when two fingers suddenly thrust deep inside her pussy. “Oh yeah, she’s wet.”
She greedily clamped down on them, wanting to keep them deep inside her. She cried out in pleasure as he worked them deeper, before pulling them completely free. She could hear the wet slurp as he licked her juices off. “Sir!”
“Oh yeah, more than ready to be fucked.” He made a quick adjustment to the horse, and she suddenly found her ass against the impressive erection straining the front of his jeans.
She yanked on her restraints as the orgasm she’d been trying to delay surged hard against her fraying control. Then the plug flared to life once more. She stretched, her lower pelvis aflame with the need to come, and began to fall head first into the dark place where nothing more than her and Deacon existed. Call it sub-space, release, whatever…it didn’t change the fact she craved it more than her next breath.
“Hold it.” She barely heard the rasp of his zipper, before his hand wrapped around her ponytail. “Hold it, you little slut. Let me get in you first.” He jerked her head back, sinking his fingers deep into her hair, causing her torso to elongate as he sank deep inside her pussy. She sobbed, her mind reeling as she struggled to accept the intense pleasure of having both holes filled. She hung on by her fingertips, the release she desperately wanted just waiting to consume her whole being. But hold it she did – waiting for his words.