Tamsyn
Descending the stairway to hell was the most surreal experience of her life.
With each step, it felt as though she was leaving behind normality. Regretting the decision wasn’t really an option—she’d seen how comfortable Merrick was here in the shadows, how he belonged in this place, and she could admit—in the privacy of her own mind—it had been arousing to watch him lose himself in the music, the rhythm, the act.
While she didn’t envy the woman her thick welts and painful bruises, Tamsyn wanted to understand what the next step of her bond with Merrick might be. There was no desire to have her bottom beaten so emphatically—after all, her father had given her several tastes of that over the years—but she couldn’t deny her yearning to be closer to Merrick.
Nerves rattled under her skin as the noises grew louder—shouts, whimpers, screams, crying, begging rising above the crack of whips, jangle of chains, smack of flesh on flesh.
It was music everyone down here was dancing to in their own way, contributing to it.
She reestablished her grip on Merrick’s hand as they reached the lower level, angling herself behind him as the atmosphere struck her like a fist. Sexual tension throbbed like the heart of a living being, edged with violence, arrowing into her belly.
It reminded her of the orgy, only without the frantic urgency to mate.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Merrick,” she whispered.
He stopped immediately, looking down at her with concern. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Why is it so busy?” There were people everywhere, in different stages of undress, consumed by what they were doing.
“The dungeon is a popular area, darlin’. Top of the range equipment, safety without sacrificing privacy, immersing in the thrill of playing alongside likeminded people. Liam likes to think the bar is the social heart of the club but, for me, it’s here where pleasure and pain flow like a river, dragging subs into the current and sweeping them away.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “If it’s too much, you can tell me. Bringing you here wasn’t my plan just yet. Someone jumped the gun before I was ready.”
She grimaced, wondering if she should tell him that someone was actually her, not Elias. It was stupidly embarrassing to confess she’d turned into a sweaty, anxious mess ten minutes after he left the bar, although she was proud of herself for hiding it from the others for almost an hour before she disintegrated into an emotional wreck.
The really tall blond guy, Evander, had offered to walk her home to the cabin and sit with her until Merrick came back, but that just made her fret all the more, even though Callie said she’d go with them.
Elias had pinned her in her seat with those knowing, devilishly blue eyes and cocked his head. Rubbed his thumb over his lips thoughtfully as he regarded her, then simply asked, “Would you like me to take you to him, Tamsyn?”
When she’d nodded, there was a sudden flurry of movement and everyone was up on their feet, forming a band of explorers ready to go hiking through the dark and cold to find her lover.
Though she hardly knew any of them, she’d felt the strangest feeling of belonging.
Now she was here, in so far over her head she couldn’t see the surface of who she’d been, preparing for the physical and mental exertion of evolving into whatever she was meant to become.
Merrick squeezed her hand. “Little owl, we don’t have to be here. I’ve got floggers and toys at home I can show you. The dungeon is perfectly safe—we have security monitoring the scenes, and all the equipment meets every standard to the highest criteria—but I know it’s a lot to take in.”
“I want to see.” Understand. Accept. Belong . “I want to try.”
“All right. A small, simple scene.” Glancing around the darkened areas, he pursed his lips thoughtfully. Spying something in the far corner, he tugged gently on her hand. “Follow me, don’t let go.”
That was the last thing she intended to do. The toes of her new sneakers were almost catching the heels of his boots, she was so close to him. Despite her simple attire of a casual sweater and jeans, which were woefully out of place amongst lingerie and leather, she felt horribly inadequate and overdressed.
When she took herself out of the equation and actually observed what was going on around her, she decided it was fascinating. Scary, yes, but a study in what she assumed was basic human nature exposed at the raw core.
Men and women tied up, strapped down, bent over tables and barrels or kneeling on various surfaces. Face up, butt up, twisted into positions she couldn’t fathom. Hanging from beams by their wrists, standing on their tiptoes; one man was even bound in ropes from neck to knees, swinging gently in a circle without any part of him touching the floor.
She saw ropes, chains, leather cuffs, handcuffs, things she couldn’t explain.
Merrick led her to an unoccupied area with only a padded triangular box with a flat top as the main attraction. Releasing her hand, he took a step back, holding up a finger as her feet automatically followed. “The rules in the club are stricter than we have at home, little owl. Here, I’m Master Merrick or Sir. I don’t mind which you use.”
Her breath grew shallow. “O-Okay… um, Sir.”
“Good girl. Remember the safewords?”
“Red, yellow, green.” She flinched when his eyebrow lifted. “Sir.”
“Don’t shy away. I’m not going to smack you around if you forget to use the honorific, Tamsyn. Not yet anyway.” He winked at her. “Submission is all about finding yourself and allowing your mind freedom. When you submit, you’re giving all of yourself to me—the good, the bad, and the ugly. I want it all, little owl, from every drop of pleasure I wring out of you to the stress, anxiety, doubts. I take it all, take the weight of it, and let you fly.”
That sounded kind of nice, actually.
“In return, when I give you an order, you obey. Quickly, without hesitation. The only exception to that is if whatever I ask you to do goes against your hard limits or your personal safety, in which case you use your safeword.”
Tamsyn chewed her lip, then nodded.
He frowned at her. “Learn to vocalize your answers. I can read your body language, your eyes, and know when you’re lying or in pain, darlin’. I need your voice as well. Think you can do that for me?”
Her throat clicked on a swallow. “Yes, Master Merrick.”
“Fuck, that sounds good, coming from you.” He closed his eyes as if savoring the feeling. After a moment, he exhaled slowly and opened them again. “You’ve got thirty seconds to get naked and sit right here,” he told her in a slightly deeper tone, patting the padded box. “I’m gonna get a couple things and be right back. Do not leave this area.”
Because he obviously trusted her not to run a hell of a lot more than she trusted herself, he walked off without waiting for her answer, crossing to the end wall just ten feet away where all manner of torture instruments waited to be picked.
Okay, so they were diving right on in to the deep end of the sex pool, she thought. Suddenly mindful of the clock ticking down the limited number of seconds, she toed off her sneakers as her hands grasped the hem of her sweatshirt to wrestle it over her head.
The sleeve snagged awkwardly on her cast, causing no end of frustration until she finally yanked it off and tossed it aside. The T-shirt she wore beneath followed quickly, but she swept the room with an uneasy glance before letting her bra drop.
The jeans and her socks were just as easily discarded; her panties, not so much.
He said naked, she reminded herself. Naked in a room full of strangers. Would they know she was suffering through the Rejuvenation? Would they ridicule her if they saw the silly little string dangling from between her nether lips?
“Ten seconds, darlin’,” Merrick called over his shoulder.
What was she supposed to do?
The remaining seconds counted down silently in her head as she dithered helplessly. When she got down to the last three, she panicked and scrambled onto the box, panties and all.
She regretted it when he came back with his chosen items and saw his eyebrows fold into a frown. Her gaze immediately dropped, unable to face his disappointment.
“Did you forget something, Tamsyn?”
She winced as he dumped everything on a table and rolled it over beside the box.
Merrick laid his hand on her upper thigh, stroking the length of her quivering muscles. “Relax, little owl. I’m asking a lot, I know. Sometimes, what I ask of you will feel like climbing a mountain and obeying will be hard. It’s meant to be. Take the panties off.”
Frozen in place, she could only sit and tremble.
“It’s okay to be nervous. It’ll pass, Tamsyn, I promise.” He shifted to stand between her legs, his hands gliding over her skin to grasp her hips. “I’m gonna help you. When things get scary, I’m not gonna let you suffer through it alone. I’m here whenever you need me, darlin’. Can you lift your ass for me?”
His voice was low and quiet, for her ears only. The tone was gentle, considerate.
She felt his thumbs hook into the sides of her underwear, squeezing her eyes shut as he pulled them down over her hips when she raised them, letting him take the last part of her protection. She didn’t just feel physically naked as the panties took a hike—she was stripped down to the barest, most vulnerable aspects of herself.
“There. Everything’s okay. The world didn’t end because you’re naked, little owl.” Merrick draped his prize over the edge of the table where anyone could see it. “We’re gonna try some basic restraints tonight. Fordham is the Shibari genius, but I know the fundamentals. Until the cast comes off, cuffs are gonna be useless. Any issues with me binding your hands, Tamsyn?”
She shook her head, then remembered what he expected of her. “I think it’ll be okay, Master Merrick.”
“Good save. Hold your hands out, palms together. Perfect,” he crooned when she did as he asked, then reached for a short section of rope. “This time, I’m gonna leave the rope a little loose. Just want you to get a feel for it, to understand the restriction.”
“You—you’re not going to hang me up?”
His mouth curved as he focused on looping the rope around her wrists, wrapping it down her forearms. “Probably not the best idea tonight, darlin’. Suspending you with an almost healed broken wrist is just begging trouble to come knocking.”
It felt strange, feeling the pressure of the rope on her bare skin on one arm, but not on the other. The rope crisscrossed her arms, tying them together into one unit. She could move her hands independently, but any other movement required thought.
“How does that feel?”
“Weird but okay, Sir.”
“Tell me if that changes.” Merrick smiled and ran his thumb over her lips. He picked up one of those whippy things from the table. “This is a flogger, Tamsyn. The falls are velvet leather, about twelve inches long. It’s for soft impact play, so there won’t be any sharpness or stinging.”
It looked innocent enough, she supposed. Nothing like the barbaric, gleaming links of the one he’d used on the woman earlier. The fronds swayed as he held it up for her to see, silently hypnotic, black and gold strands drifting back and forth.
They were ridiculously soft when they trailed over her bare thighs.
Merrick flipped the flogger over his shoulder, leaving it there as he grasped her upper arms. “Slide down, Tamsyn, then turn around. Press your hips against the edge of the box and fold yourself over the top. Feet flat on the floor. Make yourself comfortable.”
What other choice did she have but to obey? There was something soothing about having her arms bound; the connection she wanted to explore was already deepening, as though he’d captured more than just her limbs with his rope.
He guided her, keeping her steady as she strived to follow his directions to the letter. Her feet were on the padded mat, spread a little wider than her hips. The edge of the box was just the right height for her to bend over comfortably, her butt slightly raised, while her stomach and chest were fully supported by the rest of the bench.
She stretched her arms out in front of her, resting her cheek against her bicep.
“Look at you, little owl.” The pleasure in his voice was a drug; the stroke of his hand down her back made her float. “Such a good girl. So beautiful. Submission suits you. You know I’m not gonna hurt you, don’t you?”
Tamsyn hummed softly in her throat. “Yes, Sir.”
Fingertips skimmed her shoulders, gathering her hair out of the way. “Breathe slowly, deeply. Counts of four. When you find the rhythm, relax into it. This is just fun, little owl. A chance to spread your wings and fly. Ready?”
Didn’t he know she didn’t need wings to fly when she was with him?
“Yes, Sir, I’m ready.”
The muscles in her back tightened beneath the first stroke of the falls, her subconscious bracing for pain despite his promise there wouldn’t be any. As the velvet covered leather skimmed over her bare flesh like a kiss, she exhaled explosively and went limp.
“Good girl. Relax.”
She breathed in slowly, using the throb of her pulse in her throat to count four beats, and held it for another four before letting it go. Closing her eyes, she followed the trail of the flogger over her shoulders, down her back, over her butt to her thighs, and all the way back up again.
Left to right, right to left.
Within minutes, there wasn’t an ounce of tension in her muscles. The rhythm was easy to find, like a pendulum swinging in perfect time with her heartbeat. Even the dungeon soundtrack—the music, the screams, the snap and crack of whips and floggers—faded into the background and became part of the bubble she floated in.
Her belly grew heavy, the weight different to the sensations of the Rejuvenation. No painful cramps and awkward discomfort, just the deeper, more meaningful ache of arousal. She was wet and wanting, needy and empty aside from the tampon.
Whimpering softly, she raised her hips in invitation.
The flogger rained down on her harder, the fronds thudding into her muscles now. They struck a spot between her shoulder blades that triggered a spasm through her nervous system, coiling her core tight and sending out desperate signals for more.
Something dribbled down the crack of her butt. The flogger slowed, whispering back and forth as a blunt fingertip parted her cheeks and massaged cool liquid around her forbidden hole. “This pretty cunt knows how to tell me it likes something, doesn’t it? All plump and glistening, dripping juices on the floor. Waiting for my cock to fill it up and make it cry.”
She moaned in agreement, helpless against his dirty talk.
His finger thrust gently against her hole, teasing open the rigid muscles in time with the sway of the flogger. She cried out when he breached her to the first knuckle, then felt oddly bereft when he pulled away and left her needing more of the burn.
Something thin and rubbery slid inside her in his place, foreign and alien.
“Easy, darlin’.” Thwap, thwap, thwap . The flogger switched beats, thumping against her shoulders in bursts of three, followed by a weird pfft of noise. “Velvet leather really brings out the color in your cheeks.”
Thwap, thwap, thwap… pffft .
Tamsyn squirmed uneasily, enjoying how the falls caressed her skin but not quite understanding why her bottom felt fuller. A dozen strokes of the flogger later, her back passage was both hating and loving the pain of being stretched open, craving the growing burn. “Sir?”
Leather slapped down the back of her thighs, all the way up again. “Tamsyn.”
“What did you put in my butt?”
“Inflatable butt plug. Need to teach your muscles how to open up without damaging you if my cock is gonna fit in there.” The falls returned to swaying back and forth across her lower back as his hand cupped her mound, his fingers teasing her clit. “My cock is gonna fit in there, little owl, make no mistake.”
The threat, purred in that darkly dominant tone, pushed her hips into his hand until she was grinding into him. She wasn’t sure if her butt could handle that formidable erection even if she wanted to try, but what she knew in this moment was that she needed something more substantial to quell the ache in her core.
“I need… I need…” Her brain flicked on and off as a calloused fingertip circled her clit, stimulating a hundred different nerves. “Sir, please, I need you in me. Inside me. Now. Please?”
“Not tonight, little owl. Soon, I promise.” He left her hanging, dragging his finger along her drenched seam before the thing inhabiting her butt expanded in a rapid series of pfft s that brought her up on her toes. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna come with a scream, cock in your ass or not.”
The plug continued to grow until the burn became a sting, a cramp forming behind the obstruction. Without the distraction of the flogger, anxiety wormed its way under the slick glide of arousal in her veins.
Whimpering, hands fisting, she shook her head. “Yellow. Yellow, Sir.”
“Good girl. Always tell me when you reach your limit.” Merrick stroked her back, curving his hand down around her hip to give her sensitive butt a gentle pat. “You’re gonna come, Tamsyn. Gonna make you come hard with your ass full and that needy pussy desperate for my cock.”
She moaned pitifully.
The flogger smacked the under curve of her butt lightly, the falls pattering over her skin. With each strike, they fell harder and faster, until fire simmered in every molecule of her being and erupted in her center. She clenched and released on the inadequate tampon, wishing he’d take it out and give her the thick, rigid length of his erection instead.
Thoughts disintegrated into sensations. Pain evolved into bliss so acute, she barely felt the thud of the leather against her flesh, only the ethereal rise as something broke inside her and set her free.
Higher and higher, she rose away from the sound of flogger on flesh, her whimpers and moans, her own breathing. The only thing grounding her was the erratic beat of her heart in her ears, keeping her from floating up, up, up where there was no return.
Pain snapped between her legs, fire severing that tethering link.
From an eternity away, she heard a high, plaintive scream before she spiraled into the light, breaking into a thousand pieces on the way.
*
Merrick
He caught her before she slid off the end of the bench.
That beautiful scream was the most erotic thing he’d heard in his life, spearing through his body and forcing his already erect cock into a permanent state of hardness. Watching her submit to the pain and pleasure he gave her… that was just fucking priceless.
Pinning her carefully to the bench, he quickly released her arms, pleased there were no marks from the rope. She was completely limp; a check of her eyes told him she was flying high, riding the orgasm for all it was worth.
Roaming her back and ass with his hands, he was satisfied with his work. The velvet flogger suited her, turning her pale skin a dark shade of pink over her back and shoulders, red on her ass and thighs. There were no welts, no bruises, no broken skin.
In a few hours, she would be tender without any lasting marks.
Her ass, however, would be sore.
Gently, he deflated the plug and extracted it. The tiny ring of muscles wasn’t quite as tight as it had been, and he’d continue to loosen it up in the coming weeks. He wanted to take that final piece more than he needed his next breath, to finally claim all of her, but just like he’d procrastinated over taking her virginity, he was willing to starve his own desires until she was ready.
“Did you send her into orbit?”
Merrick lifted his head, annoyed at the interruption, then grinned as Fordham slipped out of the shadows with a blanket in his hands. “Thought you were babysitting the Nursery tonight.”
“I was. Mack offered to cover the last couple hours of my shift while Sierra finishes some projects in the Sanctuary. Apparently one of the guests brought in some fixer upper stuffies for her attention, and they need to be done by Monday.”
“She works hard.”
Fordham smiled, sharing a knowing look with him. “Did you know Levi finally got all the edits done on the photoshoot from that night? Evander asked him if he wants to set some of them up in the reception area as a display. There are some damn good shots.”
That night was the night five Masters teamed up to prove to Sierra that she was worth so much more than she believed. That what she saw as her physical flaws wasn’t a deterrent to find love and keep it, that she was just as sexy with a beard as any woman without one.
Those photos, however good they might be, were not something Merrick wanted Tamsyn to see. The sex had been raw, the sexual tension off the charts. It hadn’t been a case of fucking a sub for fun; there’d been a purpose, and the experience had created a special fondness for Liam and Mack’s wife.
Knowing Levi, he’d captured every nuance of it.
It was part of Merrick’s recent history, so he’d have to explain it to Tamsyn before she got wind of it from outside sources. Slapping her in the face with photographs wasn’t the way he wanted to handle it, which meant collaring Levi and asking him not to display any of the shots with him in them.
“I think Levi was planning on asking everyone involved for permission first,” Fordham continued, tossing the blanket over as Merrick straightened, “but your expression tells me it’s a definite no from you.”
Merrick snatched the blanket on the fly, briskly bundling Tamsyn’s limp form into it before shock set in and chilled her damp skin. “Can you blame me?”
“That depends. Are you ashamed—”
“No. Hell, no. We did a good thing and it all panned out the way it was supposed to go. I need to talk to Tamsyn about it before she gets an eyeful of explicit photos and writes her own narrative out of context.” He hefted her into his arms, a contented feeling warming his chest as her head lolled onto his shoulder. “Sierra was a one-off favor, Ford. This one here, she’s my forever, the one I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life with. God willing, I will spend my life loving her until the day I die.”
Fordham’s eyebrows vaulted into an arch. “Damn. When you go in, you go all in.”
“Apparently,” Merrick said dryly, then froze when he saw a familiar couple descending the stairs. “Fuck.”
Following the direction of his stare, Ford came to an accurate conclusion. “They’re your next clients for the evening.”
Yes, they were, and his sub was still floating on cloud nine. Dilemma didn’t really cover the situation.
“Relax, Merrick, we have it under control. Eli and Evander thought you’d get sucked into your girl; they sent Mack to cover my shift at the Nursery so I can cover your ass for an hour. I didn’t bullshit you about Sierra’s project,” he added with a chuckle. “That’s just a side benefit. Go take Tamsyn somewhere quiet and treat her like a princess. I’ll send someone to the anteroom with your clothes.”
“I appreciate the gesture, Ford, but this couple is hardcore.”
“Are you saying I’m not?” He pressed his hand to his heart dramatically. “I’m wounded. My job here is a floater, Merrick, which means I can handle adapting to a client’s needs. Pretty sure caning that guy’s ass while his wife is suspended over the Sybian is within my skillset.”
Merrick frowned dubiously. “You’ve used an electric cane before?”
“First time for everything,” Ford replied cheerfully. “Now go, shoo. Unless you want me to take Tamsyn and see to her aftercare?”
Possessively, Merrick tightened his arms around her, squeezing a tiny squeak from her. When she whimpered and her cheek rubbed against his shoulder, the decision was already made. “She wouldn’t go with you.”
“Then go with her. I’ve got this under control until you come back.”
Another soft mewl got his feet moving in the right direction. Ford was right, he could handle whatever the Petersons threw at him. Fluidity and creativity was a key part of being dominant, and yes, adapting to new situations was also a handy skill.
Grateful for the support network of his friends and an understanding boss, Merrick carried his girl up the stairs and out of the dungeon, sitting with her in the anteroom until a service sub arrived with Tamsyn’s clothes neatly folded in a stacked pile in her arms.
“Master Merrick.” The sub set the clothes down beside him, then stepped back. “Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”
“No, thanks.”
With a nervous smile, she flitted away again, returning to the fun below.
He really should get dressed and whisk Tamsyn back to the bar or their cabin before she woke fully, but he wasn’t prepared for the peace of simply holding her here, on the cusp of two worlds with the chaos of the dungeon on his left, the real world to his right, and the center of his universe right here on his lap.