Bonne Chance: Bourbon Street, Book 2 (4 page)

Chapter Four

Devon bowed his head as he held the door open for her. “The sergeant is waiting in the Scarlet Room, as instructed, Mistress.”

Chance nodded as he helped her out of the lightweight thigh-length dress jacket she’d worn over her outfit. “Thank you, Devon. Was he on time?”

The large submissive passed the coat back to her with a small smile. “Four minutes early.”

She grinned. Chance had prepared the room after her last afternoon client, making sure it was set before meeting Cassandra and Ellie for an early dinner at their place. A quick check of her phone showed 6:15 p.m., which meant she’d timed it perfectly. With a nod to Devon, Chance took her time sauntering up the steps to her preferred room. If he was good, Landry would be waiting as instructed at their first session—and she was willing to bet he was. The man didn’t strike her as one who forgot much, especially not an order.

Stopping outside her door, Chance ran her hands down the black leather and red brocade corset Cass had suggested she wear. It was a good choice, one of her favorites. She always felt supremely confident in it. She’d selected a matching scarlet garter under black silk panties, as well as sheer black stockings with lace tops and a bright red Cuban heel and back seam that ended in a pair of ribbons. Her favorite pair of knee-high black boots, the ones with a special pocket for her crop, finished the ensemble.

Taking a deep breath to calm the mounting excitement she felt, Chance flipped the ends of her high ponytailed weave over her shoulder and pushed open the door. The sight that greeted her made her grin widely. Landry knelt exactly where she’d showed him the day before, and exactly how she’d showed him. Knees wide, hands on his thighs, and—most importantly—without a stitch of clothing.

Really, the man was a Domme’s wet dream.

“Sergeant Boudreaux. Did you bring your homework?”

He didn’t move, didn’t look at her, and Chance’s grin widened. “Yes, Mistress.”

Shutting the door, she sauntered slowly toward him. “Very good, sub.” She pulled the red-handled crop from her boot and ran the tip down the smooth plane of his back. “Where is it?”

“On the table with your toys, Mistress.”

She lifted one eyebrow a fraction and walked over to the table in question. “Checking out my toys, were we?”

He didn’t respond right away, which made her glance back in time to see him fight down a smile. “I did take a look, yes, Mistress.”

“Like anything you saw?”

His head shifted almost imperceptibly. “More…curious, Ma’am.”

“Elaborate.”

“I’ve seen some of them, had sessions with other Dommes who used several.”

She pressed the end of her crop under his chin, directing his head up. “Show me which you’re familiar with.”

Landry bobbed his chin in a sharp nod, and quickly stood, rocking onto his toes and up without the use of his hands. Chance gave him an impressed look, which made his cheeks flush. But he walked forward with his usual calm confidence, something Chance found refreshing. She’d worked with too many subs who lacked that assurance. Landry, though, was clearly at perfect ease with himself. He knew who he was, what he was and what he needed, and it was obvious in every move, every word.

Watching him, Chance felt a brief moment of jealousy. Her time away from New Orleans, back in her childhood home and surrounded by family whose expectations were so far from her own desires and needs, had stripped her of much of her own confidence. Added to the news of her family’s impending visit, Chance felt the doubt more strongly than she had in a long time. The day Adrian had introduced her to kink she’d felt like she’d come home. Like she’d finally found that missing piece she hadn’t even known about.

Shaking off the sudden feelings of inadequacy, Chance squared herself. Here, in this room, she was her most true self, and the world outside—her family included—could go fuck themselves.

Because she had a sub to fuck. A particularly delicious one.

Chance stepped up beside Landry, gesturing for him to proceed, which he did without hesitation.

“I know these—the crop, flogger, paddle. The Mistress who runs the door at La Danse Macabre?”

Chance smiled. “Cassandra?”

He nodded. “Had a session with her once. Fond of the paddle, she was. And the strap-on harness. Could barely sit after.”

She glanced up at that, surprised to see him smiling. “You enjoyed that?”

“The strap-on? Not especially. It was the way she did it.”

Chance chuckled. “I see. What did she order you to do?”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Bend over and take it like a man.”

Chance burst out laughing. She really could see her friend saying something like that. “I’ll have to keep that in mind. What else do you know?”

Landry continued, pointing out the usual suspects. Chance had set out a wide assortment, specifically for this reason, even borrowing a few things from Adrian that she didn’t normally go in for. They talked over the differences in various whips and floggers, the pros and cons to different paddles and restraints, then moved to some of the harder core toys. He pointed to the selection of gags and hoods she had laid out with raised eyebrows, and Chance laughed.

“Self-explanatory, aren’t they?”

He shrugged. “I s’pose, oui. But I can’t see that being enjoyable.”

Chance gestured with one hand. “They don’t do much for me, either, but I’ve worked with subs that loved the sensory deprivation of wearing a hood, or having their ability to speak taken away. It takes all kinds.”

He acknowledged her point with a nod and indicated. “And those?”

Chance’s smile grew into a wicked grin. She reached out for the little rubber cap and licked the end, quickly pressing it over Landry’s nipple. He stared at it with a surprised look, then gasped sharply as she ripped it off with a loud pop. His eyes went from his now red nipple to her face.

“Wow.”

She laughed. “Variations on a theme. Nipple clamps, caps, suction cups.” Chance cocked her head as he absently rubbed at the offended nipple, then narrowed her eyes. “You liked that.”

He grinned, dropping his hand. “I think I did.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Landry shook his head, then pointed to the table again. “Do I want to know what those are?”

“I was wondering when you’d get to those.” Chance presented each as she named it. “Cock cage. Penile ring—this one vibrates. Some have a small electric charge. That’s a chastity cage.” She leaned in closely with a grin. “Your dick goes in there.”

Landry cleared his throat nervously, and she laughed.

“Yeah, I didn’t think they’d be much interest to you, at least not now. You might get adventurous later.”

He gave her a look that suggested he probably wouldn’t, and she was nuts for thinking otherwise. “What’s with the candles?”

“Mmm. You’ve never done wax play? We’ll have to try that with you some time. I’m a fan. Actually, I think most of Adrian’s set are.”

“Sounds good. What’s that?”

Chance picked up the smooth metal handle and spun the head. “The classic Wartenberg pinwheel.” Gently, she ran the spiked head up and over his chest. “This, the candles, a few other things here, they’re for what we call sensation play. Specifically, stimulating the senses.”

Landry sighed as she continued with the pinwheel. “Hmm. That’s nice.”

“Until it’s not.” She pushed harder, and he winced. “Different pressures give different sensation. Like the floggers. We’ll keep this one in mind too.”

“And the torture kit over there? I’m almost afraid to ask…”

She set the pinwheel down. “That’s a violet wand. Electrostim. It can be fun, but it definitely takes a careful hand.”

He winced. “I bet. Think I might pass on that. Reminds me a little too much of things I’d rather forget.”

Chance nodded slowly. “You were in Iraq?”

“And Afghanistan.”

“I can understand wanting to steer clear of some of this, in that case.” She glanced up at the clock, surprised at how much time had passed. “Do you have any kind of curfew?”

“No, Ma’am. I’m off duty tonight.”

“Good.” She turned, gesturing to the far wall and a large wooden X that stood there. “Do you know what that is?”

He shook his head. “No, Mistress.”

Chance directed him toward it. “It’s called a St. Andrew’s Cross, or a saltire, and it’s a fairly common BDSM restraint system. Strap you down so you’re spread-eagle. How strong are you, Sergeant?”

He glanced from the cross to her. “Fairly strong, I’d say.”

Chance snickered. She’d bet her ass he was more than just fairly strong. He was lean and fit, like most of the Marines she’d met, but solid muscle. “And coordinated?”

“Decently.”

“Can you do handstand pushups?” She nodded at the saltire, watching as he processed the suggestion. He nodded once, glancing at her before walking over to the cross, planting his hands firmly on the floor, and in one smooth motion flipped himself upside down. Chance smiled in approval. “Hold that position, Sergeant.”

She watched for another moment as he adjusted his hand spacing for optimal balance. His toned body was something to admire, especially in this position where every muscle flexed, from the feet he’d pointed for balance, to the wide spread hands that held him up. He leaned back slightly, letting the saltire help steady him, but it was obvious he was no stranger to this exercise—though she suspected he was used to doing it with clothes on.

Chance gave him one more look over and turned away, picking a few items from her spread of toys. It wasn’t often she had such a prime physical specimen, and she planned to take full advantage of his strength. “We’re going to have some fun tonight, soldier. See how much you like taking commands.” She crouched down, quickly licking the rubber nipple caps and pushing them in place before standing again. “You’re going to do exactly what I say, and no more. Understood, Sergeant? Say ‘Yes, Mistress’.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Excellent. Give me one handstand pushup, Landry.”

His arms strained as he moved, tipping his head forward so he could dip lower, then push straight again.

“Very good. Being good gets you rewarded. Disobedience will get you punished. You will not speak unless given permission, and then you will speak only what I tell you. The only exception is your safe words. I want you to use them when you absolutely cannot stay upright anymore. Understood? You may answer.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Chance smiled, reaching for a long handled feather tickler. “Good boy.” His face maintained an air of calm as she reached out with the tickler, slowly running it from his toes down one leg, then the other. His dick, which had been in a semihard state since she’d walked in the door, began to harden as she teased up and down his legs. “Another pushup.”

His body lowered then straightened again in one smooth motion. Chance watched in admiration, wondering how much it would take to shatter the uncanny calm he possessed. She moved the tickler over his body, caressing every muscle in his arms and stomach, even running it behind to the concave dip at the small of his back before setting it down again. “Again.”

This time as he dipped, Chance swapped out toys, replacing the feather with one of her favorite floggers. The thin rubber strands were extremely versatile depending on use, and she’d found they could be quite enjoyable. She rolled her wrist a few times, loosening herself. “Again.” As Landry obeyed, Chance set an even circular rhythm with the flogger. And as he came back up, she moved close enough for the points to brush against the skin of his leg.

She kept up the rhythm, moving the flogger up and down his legs until the faintest color began to show. Glancing down quickly, she found Landry’s eyes on her, need burning away the corners of his calm.

With a wicked grin, she broke her rhythm and slashed a harder strike downward across his chest. Landry gasped at the sudden sting.

“I didn’t say you could look at me, soldier. Eyes forward. Three pushups, now.” With each pushup, Chance struck the flogger diagonally across his chest, alternating sides, and barely missing his now rock hard dick as it bobbed with him. “Mmm, someone is enjoying himself. I want five more pushups, as slow as you can go. Make me feel the strain, Sergeant.”

Landry complied without a word, slowly bending into his first dip. His arms were beginning to shake from the effort.

“Oh, and count them out as you finish.”

He pushed back upward slowly, counting “one” as he reached the apex.

With a grin, Chance lifted the flogger again, returning to her steady circular motion. This time, though, she angled the toy down so the rubber tendrils struck across his abs. And as he lowered himself a second time, he let out a surprised grunt as the head of his cock passed into the flogger’s path. His whole body shuddered as he forced himself to keep going.

“Two.”

Chance gave a wicked laugh, keeping up the steady
flak flak flak
of the flogger against his skin. She angled it farther down his chest for three, brought it back up quickly and unexpectedly for four, enjoying the barely contained trembling of his body as he fought for control. He paused at the peak of the fourth, breathing in slow shaking breaths as she lightly flogged his chest again. He wore a look of tense determination as he began the downward motion for his final pushup.

Chance dropped the hand with the flogger and stepped back, admiring the effort the final pushup cost him.

“Five.”

She set her flogger down. “Very good, Landry. How are you holding up? Can you handle that position for a little longer, if I provide some help?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Not even a hesitation. Chance smiled and stepped up beside him again. “Good. I want you to spread your legs for me. Carefully.”

Landry grunted with the effort, his jaw clenched tight, but Chance helped steady him until she had his leg positioned along the arm of the saltire. Quickly, she buckled the leather cuff around his ankle and moved to the other side, doing the same there. “You’ll still have to hold yourself up. But you won’t have to worry about balance anymore. Now…” Her hands slowly caressed down his legs. “Relax.”