Chapter 19 #5
“Alan is a good man. A wonderful submissive,” Roy said. “I enjoyed his company and our sessions. But I want to be with you even when it’s not fun. Not a pleasure. Maybe especially during those times, so that we can help each other get through them.”
“Then celebrate by fucking each other’s brains out?”
Roy’s lips quirked. “Yes. And fall asleep after, holding you, that beautiful ass against my cock, your chest rising and falling under my palm. I don’t know what juice our relationship will have after your stalker is caught, but I want to drink from that cup while we can. How about you?”
DJ didn’t like that Roy had pointed them toward the logical conclusion that the close proximity of this situation might not survive the day-to-day chaos of their normal lives, but he and Roy agreed on one thing.
He wanted to enjoy him while he could, and not let any other bullshit interfere with it.
Seeing the easing in his body language, Roy gestured above them. “Want to go to the third floor? Logan and Madison are here, and since Logan’s a whip guy, that’s where we’ll find them.”
DJ brightened. “Hell, yeah. Madison was a doll. I’d like to see her again.”
“Just remember, her husband can cut you up with his table saw.”
“She told me I’m bisexual but homo-monogamous,” DJ assured him. “That my heart belongs to a man.”
“Anyone I know?”
“I’ll let you guess.” DJ backpedaled, encouraging Roy to chase after him.
His bodyguard would never do anything so undignified, but he caught up with DJ when the press of people slowed him down.
Then gave him one of those bruising pinches on his ass that made him yelp. The man had to have crab in his DNA.
Before he could retaliate, they were in the stairwell and Roy pushed him against the wall, taking him over with a kiss before brushing a hand along DJ’s jaw.
“I was on my best behavior with Alan,” DJ informed him. “I waited to misbehave until you were present, because I knew you wouldn’t want to miss it.”
Roy rolled his eyes and gave DJ a shove to start them up the stairs together.
The third level was mostly whip play tonight, though the flash of flame at the far end suggested fire play might be happening there. Observers for the whip areas moved along perimeters marked by tape to keep them out of range of the throws.
DJ watched one man smoothly and continuously popping the fall over his submissive’s shoulders.
Her wrists and ankles were bound to a cross to keep her range of motion limited, but she also wore a head mask with D-rings in front of the ear holes.
The slim rope running through them had been attached to the cross to keep her facing forward.
“It’s protection for her,” Roy explained. “If she turns toward him when he’s not expecting it, he could strike her face.”
DJ had considered this kind of whipping academically, but it was different to see it firsthand, people dishing out pain, other people wanting it. Plus the one dishing out the pain being so careful not to cause the wrong kinds of pain, break the trust intrinsic to reaching those deeper levels.
The snap of the whips, the rush of sound, could become part of the music. The drums would start it off, and the guitar would reach down, like a strong Dom’s hand between the legs, stroking, arousing and bringing the beat into the overall rhythm.
Sy and Trey were part of this world, too. They would understand.
DJ took his notebook out and started scribbling. While he did, Roy’s eyes rested on DJ like a touch. When DJ pushed the notebook and pen back into his pocket, he met Roy’s burning gaze. His Master liked seeing him create, and that alone made him want to do it more.
They stopped at a scene where the sub restrained himself without bonds, gripping the handles embedded in the two top pieces of an X frame.
His legs were spread to match the width of the bottom pieces.
Since he was facing outward, the position kept his arms out of the way.
His Dom was wrapping a thin chain around his cock.
Tightening it as he went, he made sure each wrap was against the next without pinching, from balls to just under the crown. He held it in place with a clamp, then attached the length left over to a bead at the end of his bottom’s cock. The bead marked the presence of a urethral sound.
Before he attached it, the Dom had strung several fishing weights on the chain, as well as a cluster of feathers.
The weights pulled his cock down while the feathers tickled his thighs and testicles.
The sub was licking his lips, face tight as he tried not to move.
He was obviously suffering, but also wanting to stay right where he was.
Since canes in a variety of colors and thicknesses were laid out on a nearby table, DJ suspected this was just the beginning of the scene.
“That wrapping thing would be easy to do in our hotel room.” Roy startled DJ with a proprietary stroke of his cock over the front of his jeans, the heel of his hand making DJ push into his touch and swallow a groan.
“I’ve seen it done with wire, too. As the cock gets harder, the wire can cut in, making the sub suffer more, even as he wants more.
Depending on how his head space is with pain and pleasure. What do you think, DJ?”
“I…fucking hell.” DJ’s head dropped back on Roy’s shoulder. Roy’s other hand clamped over his throat.
“I asked you a question, boy. You better answer your Master.”
“Yes,” DJ managed. “Anything you want to do. Yes.”
Roy stroked DJ’s pounding pulse. “A Master likes it when his sub loses his mind enough to say something unwise. It’s all right, though. You’re always safe with me, DJ.”
It was amazing how powerful those words were, when they weren’t lust-fueled platitudes. Living up to them was the core of who Roy was. Even so…DJ knew it meant more with him. He wanted it to mean more with him.
In this moment, DJ existed only for his Master. He hungered for his mouth, for his touch to always be on DJ’s skin. “I’m here for you. Whatever you want and need, Sir.”
“Soon.” Roy’s voice was husky as he nudged DJ onward.
They found Logan. The hardware store owner wore jeans, boots and a T-shirt that clung in dedicated worship to his shoulders and chest. He looked as testosterone-fueled and edible as the last time DJ had seen him. Since he was holding a whip, it furthered the fantasy.
Madison was perched on a tall stool as she watched Logan instruct another Dom in the whip’s use. The Dom’s sub was nearby, bound to another X-frame and trembling with anticipation for the first kiss of the whip.
Madison had been easy to find, in a purple skirt with insets of orange fabric. Shot with shiny ruby-colored threads, they looked like flame rippling across a purple field when she moved. Her tunic top clung to her generous breasts and fluttered over her hips. Amber earrings dangled from her lobes.
The slim collar she’d worn at the shop, the one with the heart-shaped lock, drew the eye. In this place, it was the central and most important thing she wore.
When she saw Roy and DJ, her expression brightened in welcome. They followed the perimeter of the marking tape to come to her, and she stood to give them a warm hug.
She held DJ for an extra second, easing back to give him a penetrating look, and putting her hands on his face on the outside of the mask.
Her expression offered her understanding that there were no words, and the hug conveyed her sorrow and generous offer of silent comfort.
It would have felt uncomfortable on their first meeting, but now it was welcome.
“I see you remember James,” Roy said, dipping his head toward DJ. “And I know you know my scene name.”
“Of course.” She understood right away. “It’s always good to see you, Master M.”
Roy helped her back up onto the chair and DJ leaned against the wall beside her. She kept a hand on them, reinforcing her delight with their presence, but she also gestured to them to bend closer. The thump of music from above, and noise of the people around them, required it.
“Julie, the manager of our erotic theater, and Des, her husband, will be here later tonight. He’s a rope artist. He’s performed in several of our shows, and is our safety director for any other rope acts.
He looks mild-mannered, but he gets Hulk scary if any of the performers don’t put safety first.”
“Sounds like Roy’s soulmate.” DJ shot his Master a grin.
“How does Des feel about hanging someone by their thumbs?” Roy queried. “I’ve always wanted to see that.”
Madison chuckled. “I know he’s threatened to tie Julie to a fire ant hill on more than one occasion. Not that he ever would. He adores her, but she’s stubborn and loves him just as much as he loves her. It’s a state that requires conflict.”
DJ immediately pulled out his notebook.
“When he did that in your shop,” Roy murmured to her, “It was the first time since the plane.”
“I’m glad.” And since DJ was still writing, she mouthed, “Is he okay?”
“It’s up and down,” Roy responded in kind.
When DJ pocketed the notebook, Madison turned his way. “James, I’m about to ask you something really presumptuous, so it won’t hurt my feelings at all if you say no. But for the success of our little theater and my store, I’ve learned it never hurts to ask.”
“I was just thinking about that issue.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear. Her eyes widened. “You jammed with him?”
“You bet your ass. I was torn between awe, worship and ‘how the fuck did he make his guitar do that?’ So ask away.”
Her hazel eyes sparkled. She really was quite compelling. Whatever the request was, Roy knew DJ was a goner on it. From the little twist to his lips, he knew it, too.
“Could you compose an instrumental piece for one of our upcoming productions? On our budget, we could buy you dinner at a pricey restaurant. Applebee’s. Olive Garden. Probably not both, though.”
DJ grinned. “Other than the publicity attached to my name, why me?”
“I didn’t tell anyone about your visit to my shop, just as he asked,” she tipped her head toward Roy, “But we were talking about the score for a particular scene, and Julie said the underlying dark sensuality of Survival’s music would be perfect.
She’s written to your manager to ask permission to use the music from a couple existing songs, sans vocals. ”
She smiled at DJ. “However, if you showed up tonight, I thought I’d ask if you’d consider an original piece. Or fast track the permission for the existing songs, if that’s easier.”
DJ had been following her rush of words with the indulgent kindness Roy had seen him use with a gushing fan. But when she took a breath, he said, “I can push it to the front of the line on the requests Moss gets. As far as the original piece…I might be interested.”
“Great. We can set up a time for you and Julie to talk. I know tonight’s not the time…unless you’d prefer to do it here?”
“I’m okay talking with her tonight, but he’s the guy to ask.” DJ tipped his head toward Roy.
“Oh, because of the security considerations. Of course.”
“No. Not because of that.”
At Madison’s perplexed look, DJ lifted his hand to show off the glowing stamp.
“Oh. Oh. Yes, of course. I’m…wow. So you guys figured it out. I’m so happy about that. Um…” When she looked at Roy, DJ noted her body language and expression changed subtly. “Master M, are you fine with James talking to Julie while she’s here?”
“If he’s interested and Julie knows how to be as discreet as you, no problems here,” Roy said. “But I appreciate the respect, Madison.”
Roy shifted to stand on DJ’s other side, DJ’s thigh brushing his as he slid an arm around him. He wrapped fingers over his hip bone, his thumb in DJ’s jeans pocket. DJ turned his head his way, nose brushing the side of Roy’s throat. Total possession. Fucking blissful.
He just wished he didn’t need the mask. He would press his face fully against solid bone and heated skin.
The first pop of the whip drew their attention, and the three of them settled in to watch Logan demonstrate technique to the other Dom.
With exceptional precision, the whip kissed the woman’s shoulders, her back, her ass, and thighs.
The demo held the attention not only of her Dom, but their audience, about twenty people grouped around the taped perimeter.
After a short time, the marks which had landed with such deceptive softness were raising red marks on her flesh. The woman quivered from the contact, but she was also lifting on her toes, back arching with sensual response.
Then Logan landed a sharper pop on that raised ass and she yelped.
Her Dom, a broad man with a beard and a Marine tattoo on his biceps, spoke. “You don’t ask for more, Jenna. Do you?”
“No, Sir. I wait for what you’re willing to give me.”
“Good girl. Apologize for your rudeness to Master Logan.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“Now you try, George.” Logan handed the whip off to the bearded man.
He aimed low, toward her thighs and ass.
After about ten more minutes and more direction from Logan, he was delivering smooth, careful strikes.
Then he went to his sub to see how she was doing.
He gripped her chin, bringing her up on her toes as he kissed her.
He also put his hand between her legs to find her slippery.
Her gaze clung to him as he tasted her arousal.
When he returned to Logan, he offered his thanks in a baritone that would do justice to Barry White. “That tip you gave me, to practice on the balloons, helped.”
“It’s a good precision exercise.” Logan raised his voice for the audience.
“Use balloons to practice whip technique. Strike without breaking them, and also learn how much force is needed to do it. Over time, your bottom may want you to do harder strikes, but take it slow. Nothing pulls them out of a scene faster than inflicting pain beyond their pleasure or service zone.”
Roy noticed DJ missed most of Logan’s lesson. He’d been tracking how Jenna responded to every strike, and not just the answer from her flesh. Her deeper reactions drew him in the way the music in his head did. Maybe they came from the same source.
Had he noticed what Roy had, how George and Jenna became closer to one being, connected by the throw of the whip, her pain and pleasure tangled up in George’s desire to give her both? And control both.
The whip demo had concluded, and George was releasing his sub. Roy touched DJ’s arm, making him aware of his Master’s attention upon him.
“Want to try it?” Roy asked.