24. Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Derek
Emery’s eyes are wide as she scans the room, taking in her reality for the rest of the weekend. It gives her an na?ve and innocent look that causes the darker elements inside of me to rise up with the urge to corrupt.
We won’t be using everything on her, not even close; there simply isn’t time. But she will get a taste from each of us.
Hopefully, it will leave her hungry for more.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Darcy’s intentions are less than subtle when it comes to Emery. It’s plain as day that he wants to keep her, like he has a crystal ball that tells him twelve months from now she’ll still be ours. That she is and will continue to be, perfect for the four of us.
I can’t disagree that she hasn’t been perfect—so far. That, however, does not mean she will be perfect going forward. There have been plenty of women who have been perfect in the moment but have then turned unsuitable. Both in our single pursuits and in our very few group attempts. I’m not going to put myself, or my friends, through another sub who has a preference for one or more, but not all, of us. The outcome of this weekend will shed more light on how she fits with us, but I am refusing to let myself be as hopeful as Darcy.
Besides, Emery is eighteen. She has a whole world of possibilities to explore. For her, this weekend is about earning cash—a lot of fucking cash—as a sugar baby. About pleasing her daddies so her bank account is lined for however long she manages to hold on to said cash.
With that sobering thought, I return my attention to the moment. Emery has seemingly forgotten that she is stark naked. I follow the line of her attention and smirk when my gaze finds what has captivated her.
While she was in the bath with Xavier, the rest of us shifted things around out here, making the spanking bench the focal point of the room. I adjusted the lighting so that everywhere else is slightly darker, naturally drawing the eye to the space. It helps that there is a dimmed overhead spotlight.
I make eye contact with Hudson and Darcy, who are both standing in the shadows, and give a swift nod. Quietly, they prowl among our much-loved and minimally used black leather and wooden furniture until they stand close to the bench.
Emery jumps as I place my hand on her lower back, the wet ends of her hair tickling the back of my hand. When she looks up at me, her eyes are wide and questioning, triggering my daddyness.
“Daddy?”
“It’s okay, baby. We are just going to play. Come and have a look.” I gently apply pressure until she takes a hesitant step forward and then another.
I look at the bench and try to see it for the first time.
It could almost be confused for a wooden picnic bench, except for the fact that the tabletop is very thin—about the thickness of a hand—and padded. The arm and knee rests are positioned parallel to the main support; however, the positions are adjustable. Something for a future play. Right now, they are set up for a traditional kneeling position.
Belt-like straps hang loosely to the ground from every support. Emery can’t see it from this angle, but there is also a headrest ready to be positioned once she is strapped in.
Stopping beside the bench, I place my other hand on top of the black leather cushion and smooth my hand over it. “Do you know what this is?”
Darcy and Hudson have joined our space, but they’re standing back toward the wall, allowing Emery and I to have a moment together as I introduce her to my world. There is something to be said for playing with friends. They know all your quirks and how you prefer for a scene to unfold.
Emery turns her wide eyes to me. “Are you going to spank me, Daddy? Have I been a bad girl?”
There is a touch of fear in those big, beautiful hazel eyes and a slight quiver to her voice. The combination sends streaks of desire straight to my balls.
Reaching out, I cup her face and smooth my thumb over her cheek. “No, baby, you’ve been a perfect girl. You’ve made me very happy so far.”
She bites her lower lip, and her brows furrow, forming a cute little V at the top of her nose. “But why…”
“This is one of the many ways I like to play,” I reply, keeping my voice low and unthreatening. With a soft but continuous pressure, I pull Emery to me, cuddling her naked body against my bare chest. I want to moan at the sensation of her warm, supple body pressed against mine, but I maintain control of myself. “How about I show you what I am going to use on you once I have you restrained and at my mercy?”
Her breath hitches on my last word, then she nods her head jerkily.
I take the opportunity to start warming her up and swat her ass hard enough to make her jump. “Words, baby girl. I need words.”
The quiver is back. “S-sorry, Daddy. Yes, please, show me what you are going to use on me once you have me restrained and at your mercy.”
My cock thickens so quickly that I’m almost lightheaded.
Shifting movement from the side of the room lets me know that she isn’t only affecting me. The question, though, is this real or is this fake?
Is this all an act to get her gift at the end of the weekend, or is this a piece of the girl that makes up Emery? Something in between, perhaps?
The only noise in the apartment is the heavy bass that keeps the room loaded with tension as I guide her toward the area we’ve dubbed the Wall of Torment. All the floggers, whips, canes, paddles, and more that a masochistic sub hates to love.
And I’m a master wielder of each and every one.
The wall is black and made up of pegboard, allowing me to place hooks wherever I find convenient. It is currently organized from longest tails to the left, shortest in the center, and then to the right are the firmer toys, like paddles and canes.
When Emery pauses, I stop directly behind her and wrap my arms around her, my forearms below her breasts.
“This is the Wall of Torment. For this scene, I’ll be using some of the more…” I search for a word that will accurately describe a thud over a sting and come up short. So, instead, I pull down a suede twenty-tails. The falls are made up of a mix of black and red, which twine up into a diamond-patterned handle.
I link my fingers with Emery’s and hold both our arms out in front of us, forearms up, and give a flick of the flogger, allowing the tails to kiss against our skin. Fire licks along my arm but settles into a dull sensation. She tenses in my arms just as the light thud registers, and gasps. Slowly, I drag the tails down off our arms before repeating the action, except this time, I whip the tails away, causing more of a sting.
Emery is quiet in my arms, her hand still trapped within mine, but she doesn’t try to take it back. She stares at her forearm, the slightest blush starting to rise on the skin.
“What is that?”
“A suede flogger.”
She looks up at the wall and then down at the tool in my hand. “It doesn’t have any knots on the end.”
“No,” I reply. “This is a…low-intensity flogger. We’ll start here and work our way up in intensity. How does that sound, baby?”
A full body shiver racks her before she answers quietly. “That sounds good, Daddy.”
I wrap our arms around her and give a squeeze. “Good girl. Now, go over to the bench. Your other daddies are going to help me today.”
Emery turns and looks around the room, her eyes widening when she sees the other three, Xavier having joined us in the last few minutes. “They’re going to watch?”
There is a crack in her voice, and I laugh quietly. “No, baby. They aren’t going to watch. They are going to help. Every scene this weekend will have more than one of us involved. We have a lot to share with you, and we want to make sure our time together is well spent.”
Tension fills her again, and I know what my words sound like. We are paying for her time and her body, but it’s tied up in the sweeter package of a sugar baby arrangement. She wouldn’t be here if there was no gift.
And as much as I want to believe this could be more, that’s all it is for this weekend.
I swat her ass gently and send her toward the others, who are standing by the bench. All of us are bare chested, in jeans, and commando. This is our usual for scenes, even when we attend Obsession. It’s a point of difference between us and the other dominants at the club.
Honestly, I don’t understand how they can feel comfortable in leather and harnesses. Too much restriction of movement.
As Emery walks away from me, her hair swishes along her lower back. That won’t do.
“Darcy, could you please help Emery with her hair?”
He nods and disappears into her room as Hudson points out where to put her knees and forearms on the bench.
“Place your knee here, and then, just like you are mounting a horse, bring your other leg to the side. We’ll adjust things from there.” He doesn’t give Emery any time to second-guess what’s happening, just tugs on her hand until she is close enough to the bench that he can cup her knee and put it where it needs to be.
Xavier watches everything from his resting place against the back of the couch, arms folded across his chest. We discussed his scene with Emery earlier today. Tomorrow, after lunch, she is going to get a taste of his skill with a blade, and we are going to find out if she likes a slice of pain with her pleasure.
Darcy is back and encourages Emery to sit on the bench, legs straddling either side and that bare cunt pressing into the black leather. She squirms, clearly feeling a little discomfort from the overuse of the tender area in the last few hours.
A lethargic darkness starts to claw itself from my chest and out to my extremities as I fast forward to an hour from now, when the rest of her body will feel just as tender.
As Darcy secures her hair, Hudson gets to work adjusting one of the leg braces. I move to the other leg and bring up the brace until it takes Emery’s weight. She looks down at me as I grip her calf, and her throat bobs as I reach for the leather strap to secure her leg in place.
I cinch it tightly enough that she can move her feet, but her leg isn’t going to slip free, then stand. Darcy drops her braided hair onto her back as Hudson stands, having completed the leg on his side.
Gripping Emery’s chin, I turn her to face me. “Color?”
Her lashes flutter, and she strains her legs in an effort to move, but when she makes eye contact with me again, I can see that she is sure of her answer, thank fuck. “Green.”
“You will use your safe words, do you understand me? Do not play a hero and push through. That goes for the entire weekend. Safe words are there to keep both you and us safe. Use them.”
Emery attempts to nod, but I haven’t removed my grip from her chin. “Yes, Daddy. I promise to use my safe words.”
“Good girl. This isn’t the last time we will ask you for your color, however the check-ins will be less frequent, so as not to ruin the flow of the scene. The only reason we will do that is because we think you are hiding something from us. Hide from us, and the weekend is over. Done. We will pack your shit, and you will be out of here faster than you arrived. Do you understand?” I tighten my grip on her chin for a moment to make sure she is paying attention to me.
She blinks a few times, pupils increasing in size. “Yes, Daddy.”
Ah, she likes the sound of consequences. Something to experiment with next time.
No. Not next time. This is the only time.
“The scene begins now.”
I let go of her chin to grab her shoulders and force her flat onto her stomach. She makes a muffled noise, but I hold her down, anticipating her squirming. Darcy makes quick work of the lower and upper back belts, the straps indenting her skin the smallest amount as her squirming reduces. Hudson secures both arms, neither brace requiring a height adjustment, and then we all step back.
She’s gorgeous, restrained and with a slight tremble in her thighs.
Grabbing my suede flogger, I stride over to Emery’s head and crouch down in front of her, draping the tails over one of my thighs. Her head is positioned just high enough on the bench that it’s hanging off the edge without support. I reach behind her and grab the base of her braid and pull until she is looking at me.
Her mouth is open from the strain, and she groans. Now her pupils really are blown wide, almost completely eclipsing the hazel irises. Because I have apparently lost the grip on my self-control, I lean in and help myself to her mouth. The angle is too odd for her, allowing me to take and explore as I wish.
When I’m done, I release her hair and lower her head. She doesn’t even try to support herself.
The others have all taken up positions around the space, waiting for their cues to join. Normally, we aren’t this orchestrated. It's more of a free-for-all, the four of us moving in sync with each other. But with the limited time that we have, we’ve each planned our perfect scenes.
My scene is to light up Emery’s skin a beautiful cherry red, leave her covered in my marks, while my friends enjoy her body.
I step up to Emery’s side and swish my arm from side to side, getting a feel for the flogger and increasing the tension that surrounds my little sub.
It’s finally time to see if Emery loves the bite of my toys as much as I love seeing their marks.
With that final thought, I bring the red and black flogger down, lashing the tails over her skin in a barely there kiss. She gasps, and the sound fuels the darkness inside me and I raise my arm again.
And again.
And again.