Fournicopia (7 page)

Jennifer glanced at her watch. “Guess you better go get dressed. I’ll keep this setup free.”

Aislinn gave her a tight smile. “Thanks for everything.”

“I live to serve.”

As Jennifer moved away, Aislinn wondered, not for the first time, exactly where the manager’s passions lay. For the most part, she dutifully wandered the rooms, dispensing advice, stepping in when she thought a particular scene got too intense for one of the players. On rare occasions, she joined in, a deft switch, able to demonstrate proper techniques like a seasoned Domme or submitting while she provided needed critique. Most often, she opted for S&M play, seeming to enjoy the more sadistic forms of punishment.

Aislinn had recoiled from some of the heavy-duty things Jennifer had endured. It wasn’t in her nature to inflict truly painful punishments. And yet, she’d witnessed the glowing serenity that suffused Jennifer’s face following a particularly grueling session.

Perhaps, Aislinn thought, she wasn’t really destined to live the life. Her reasons for drifting into the club no longer seemed valid. After leaving her numbskull boyfriend, she’d wondered about the attraction of D/s and decided to experiment. While he hadn’t left her damaged goods, he had inspired a burning curiosity.

And she’d found something here, for a time, that she’d been missing in her life. Lately however, she’d wanted something more. Was the missing ingredient true connection? Or perhaps,
love?

Was Gus the one? She really didn’t know. For sure, his animal attraction was a potent aphrodisiac. His willingness to submit left her heady, excited like she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Today, she’d been eager to rush through work, flubbing orders, just so she could get out the door early and hurry to La Forge.

All day long, she’d relived their encounters over and over. Her body hummed with anticipation and arousal at just the thought of seeing him again, of stroking his skin and laying stripes on his body because he’d allow it. But she didn’t know precisely how she wanted the scene to end.

Certainly, she wanted to dominate him, find his passion buttons, figure out how to trigger his arousal and push him to the breaking point. By accident, she’d found one that first night—offering her nipples for comfort after the stinging pleasure of the paddle—but she’d paid with fragments of her dignity.

Not that she truly minded all that much—which was why she was riddled with self-doubt. What did she really want?

Aislinn was inside the changing room, opening her locker before she remembered her little problem. Instead of a note this time, something shoved through the grill at the front, a package lay at the bottom of the metal cage. How the hell had he done it? Her combination was known only to herself and staff.

Her hands trembled as she opened the package. Inside, nested in layers of pink tissue, lay a gel dildo—with a harness. A strap-on. When she lifted it from the box, a slip of paper floated to the floor.

Use this tonight. I’ll be watching.

A flash of anger hitched her breath. Who the hell was playing with her? Although no longer frightened—because the gifts and notes smacked of a love-struck secret admirer rather than a predator—she was nonetheless annoyed at how well-tuned to her desires the gifts really were. She fingered the leather straps. It was perfect.

If her secret admirer hoped for a show, she’d give it to him.

Gus no sooner pushed through the door of the salon when Mondo stepped from where he’d hovered beside it and grabbed his arm. “Come with me.”

Gus gave a quick glance around. Everything seemed like always. Nudity abounded—seats were inhabited by playful couples, naked slaves trailed Masters holding leashes. That particular custom had always seemed a little bizarre—not something he’d ever thought he’d accept. However, the idea of Aislinn leading him around like a Dachshund, eager for a nibble of his favorite chew-toy, appealed.

Then he spotted Beau and Craig, fully clothed, leaning on their elbows against the bar. They lifted their chins in silent acknowledgement. He passed Jackson and Marti, whose outfit consisted of strips of shiny PVC across her breasts and hips. He gave her a quick, tight grin and shook his head at Jackson, who looked extremely uncomfortable.

The only member of their posse not present was Craig.

“What’s goin’ on, Mondo? Aislinn’s stalker make another move?”

“Don’t know about that, but buddy, you’ve got trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

Mondo pushed him toward a lit stage, empty except for the manacles hanging from a hook in the ceiling and a padded sawhorse. Gus’s eyes widened, and he shot a glance at Mondo. “No. You’re fuckin’ with me.”

“Oh, you’re gonna be fucked, but I’ll only be watching.”

“No way.”

Mondo’s hand latched around his upper arm again, and he pulled Gus toward the first room down the corridor. Mondo pushed him inside then closed the door. “How much do you want this girl?”

Gus shrugged, trying to be nonchalant and not give away the fact he was head-over-heels for the woman. “I like her.”

Mondo canted his head, eyes narrowing as he studied Gus’s expression.

Gus’s cheeks heated, and he cursed the fact he’d never learned to keep a poker face. “Okay, I like her a lot.”

“And what happened between you last Friday night…”

Gus blew out a deep breath. “Just the most amazing sex I’ve ever had.”

Mondo nodded slowly. “And that was all?”

“That’s not enough?” He said the careless words, but inside he winced. The last thing he wanted to do was admit he’d felt the world tilt the moment she’d laid the first sharp slap across his ass. He wasn’t some slave-boy looking for a spanking. The fact
she’d
wanted to do it had made the difference.

“How far would you go to please her?”

Mondo was using
the
voice—the one he used on subs right before he flicked a tender nipple with the sharp end of a whip. The texture of it was soft, yet not the least soothing.

Gus’s hackles rose. “Get the fuck out of my head.”

“Would you take a little humiliation if it pleased her?”

“What the hell does she want to do? Spank my ass where everyone can see? Seems a little too late to spare my dignity since everyone knows that’s what she already did.”

When Mondo’s direct stare didn’t relent, Gus’s shoulders fell. “She’s not stoppin’ there, is she?”

“She hasn’t consulted with me. But I know she wants to take back control. Punish you.”

Gus felt a twinge inside his chest. “Didn’t she enjoy what happened between us?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Didn’t she?” Gus asked again, beginning to worry.

“Yes. But it’s more complicated than that. And I shouldn’t tell you anything more.”

“You could give me a clue.”

Mondo shook his head. “Trust her. Nothing she’ll do will be anything you can’t live with. If you want her, let her lead. But be ready.”

Gus didn’t like the sound of that. He was already beginning to feel a little queasy and starting to sweat. He scraped a hand through his hair. “Is she here?”

“She’s ready. Whenever you walk out of here, it starts. If you don’t want this, keep walking right out the door.”

Though tempted, Gus couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her standing on that stage. Her disappointment would weigh him down, crowd his chest. Even before they’d started to figure out what was happening between them, it might be over. Just like that. Gus knew it.

Biting back his unease, he decided to give her a cue, a reminder that he was there for her—no matter what. Ignoring Mondo, who stood beside him, arms crossed over his chest, Gus stripped, leaving his clothes in a pile beside the door.

Then, giving Mondo a glare because his friend’s grin stretched wide across his face, he slammed open the door and strode naked, body and soul, into the hall.

Aislinn could have heard a pin drop against the buffed concrete floor, it was so quiet. Jennifer had shut off the music. All the other stages had been vacated as everyone gathered around her stage, ready for the scene to begin.

Word must have spread that something had happened between her and Gus last Friday night. That tonight was all about consequences.

She’d dressed carefully, selecting colors and clothing that would entice Gus, but also confuse. Leather gear, but in a pale orange sherbet. Daring, but feminine. A scanty top that looked more like a shredded bikini bra with skinny straps holding it together. A tight but supple leather skirt with dark flames edging the hem. She’d chosen red gladiator sandals with 3-inch heels. She wore no underwear, no hose. Nearly nude, if she bent she’d flash the crowd, but she intended to give them a show to prove she didn’t give a damn. That last Friday she’d strode through the hall with her own come gleaming on her thighs because she’d meant for it to happen.

As feminine and flashy as her clothing was, she’d pulled back her hair into tight ponytail and worn little makeup other than kohl-rimmed eyes. She’d entice and intimidate.

When Gus strode nude into the hall, his strides stalled as he caught sight of her.

Her breath caught at the sight of him, his frame, so large, so vulnerable in his nudity. His face gave little away of what he was thinking, but she noted a pulse pounding at his temple. His skin glowed with a slight slick of sweat. Already, his cock lifted from his groin.

By the square jut of his chin, he told the room to go to hell, and his gaze never strayed, never dropped from hers. Not until he climbed the steps and approached her. Her breath hitched the moment he dropped his head, staring at her toes.

With everyone watching, she fought to clear her mind. To concentrate on Gus. “I thought I might see you this morning,” she said softly.

Not raising his head, he murmured, “I had the day off. No doughnut run.”

“Oh.”

His head lifted slightly. “I didn’t know if you’d want to see me again so soon.”

She accepted his explanation, realizing he’d likely needed the space as well. To think about where this thing they had was going. They’d moved so fast. “I don’t usually push this swiftly with a sub to public displays…” She bit her lip to keep from saying more. Already, the doubts were crowding in that she’d chosen the best way to move forward.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’m ready.”

Gratitude shouldn’t have been what she felt. Not if she were truly trying to take back the bit she’s surrendered the last time they’d been together in the club, but there it was. She breathed more deeply. “This won’t be easy.”

“Don’t hold back,” he said, his voice gruff. “Whatever you need…”

She cleared her throat and pitched her voice louder. “Do you remember your word?”

“Doughnut,” he replied, no hesitation in his deep voice.

She cleared her expression then pointed toward the sawhorse. “Stand in front of it.”

Gus gave her a last smoldering look, then turned and walked toward the sawhorse. She glanced over the gathering crowd, found Mondo, whose dark eyes gave away nothing of what he was thinking.

Although not officially the dungeon master, he was one of the club’s most experienced Doms. If he found fault with anything she did, he’d call a quick halt to the play. She wondered if he’d be equally moved to spare his friend embarrassment.

With doubts still swirling inside her, she turned to eye the man who’d filled her thoughts from the moment their gazes first met. He’d been handsome and intimidating in his dark uniform, but naked, he was devastating.

Not an ounce of fat softened his large frame. Muscles flexed in his shoulders. His round buttocks drew her gaze. Lord, she wanted to play there. See how much he could take.

All that power would be leashed—and all hers. She raised her chin, indicating to her helper, standing at the back of the crowd, that it was time to begin.

From the corner of his eye, Gus watched Craig striding through the crowd. He wore loose drawstring pants. His chest and arms were oiled and his face was set. Only a friend would note the wicked delight dancing in his green eyes.

Gus gave him a frown, not understanding until Craig climbed the steps onto the platform and reached up to grab for the first cuff.

Craig raised an eyebrow.

Gus muttered under his breath, but lifted his arm and let Craig fasten the metal restraint to his wrist, then repeat the process until Gus stood with both his arms raised.

“Grip the metal bars,” Craig said softly. “They’ll save your wrists.”

Gus fit his fingers around the bars inside the top of the stirrup-shaped cuffs and held tight.

A man familiar with restraints, Gus felt a moment’s panic when he pulled and felt the bite of the metal around his wrists. Cold sweat broke on his forehead.

Craig backed away, but didn’t leave.

Footsteps clicked behind him. Hands stroked his shoulders, his back, his buttocks. Gus hadn’t known he needed Aislinn’s familiar caress until he breathed deeply. His cock bobbed against his belly.

Aislinn walked around him, sliding into the space between his body and the sawhorse. She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. Again, she glided her hands over his chest, his abdomen, downward, cupping his erection and gripping it firmly, pulling on it until he lifted on his toes.