Epilogue
Sophie
The next few days of living with Flynn, Rory, Mack and Tye are surreal in a real Pinch me is this really happening to my life right now?
way. I hover between disbelief, fear it might end, and exhilarating joy.
I have to pull myself together and decide that yes, this is happening and no, I am not going to spend it worrying and ruin it.
I am going to jump in with both feet because what more can these men do to show me that they are committed?
They bought an apartment to live together for goodness sake, not to mention giving up their connections to the Clarendon.
This week has also been a true taste of what life can and will be like, as everyone has gone back to work properly.
I hadn’t realised that Flynn had taken the weekend off and Mack had postponed his PT lessons.
Tye works the majority of his time from home so he is more flexible, on the whole.
I did go back to work in the cafe at the Clarendon, I was not fired and no one said a word about my transgressions with the members.
I guess that was one good thing that came out of my acceptance of my punishment.
I took it and we have moved on. I’m taking this week off playmate bookings whilst I settle into my new life and how much the men demand of my body.
My real life is like my playmate life on ecstasy.
I am literally bed-hopping and playing in my day-to-day real life, just without the stress of new clients.
My men are hungry for me and their appetite is never sated.
There is always someone around who is touching me, kissing me, fucking me.
That is my life and I’ll be damned if I ever go back to my solo life in my apartment looking for my one knight in shining armour when I could have four.
I undress in Mack’s room, open my laptop and load the platform.
On my knees, I sit and wait for him to come online.
It’s only a minute before Mack fills my screen, and, for the first time, he’s maskless.
He takes my breath away and I feel a knot in my throat.
My man, my Mack. All of him, no more hiding, no more mask. Just him.
“Hi Baby, I’ve missed you,” he says almost shyly as he nibbles on his bottom lip. Seeing him is doing all kinds of things to my heating body.
“I have missed you too,” I say honestly. He might be in and out of the apartment at funny hours of the day, but he’s a constant and he owns a piece of my heart.
“I’ve missed seeing you on your knees for me,” he admits as his lips pull up into a devious smile.
I smile back but I have more pressing matters to address. “How did your meeting go?” I ask anxiously.
“I did my best. I think they liked my proposal. They’re going to let me know next week if they’re backing me or not.”
“Oh amazing, that really is all you can do,” I say as I cross my fingers, holding them up for him on screen.
“Now for the anxious wait. So, to take my mind off the impending decision and seeing as I don’t fly home until tomorrow, I want to play with your body.”
“Ok…” I laugh. “How exactly are you going to do that in Sydney?” I question.
He sits and grins at me, the look of someone knowing something I do not.
A knock at my door has me looking up as Flynn walks into Mack’s room.
He looks down at me expectantly, a shrewd look written across his usually stoic face.
“Kitten, I need you in the lounge,” instructs Flynn in his harem pants and no shirt. “Bring Mack,” he nods his head towards the open laptop. They have arranged this, the deviants.
I look back at Mack who grins widely at Flynn’s request. “Be a good girl and follow him.” I raise an eyebrow but of course I’m going to follow Flynn into the lounge.
I stand and pick up my laptop. I would put my robe on, but these men have made it their mission to map out every inch of my body, there is nothing they have not seen, touched, tasted or kissed.
Being self-conscious doesn’t even cross my mind as I pad barefoot out of Mack’s room.
When I get to the lounge, Rory is sitting on the leather sofa with a beer.
“Hey Rory,” I say as I look to Flynn for instructions.
“Hey gorgeous. Wearing my favorite outfit I see.” He grins back at me.
“And you are not wearing my favorite outfit,” I pout playfully.
“And what one is that, Angel?” asks Rory, smirking at me.
“The one where I see all of you. Preferably wrapped around my body,” I reply, hoping to get a rise out of him.
“I think you have some instructions to follow before I am allowed near you. Which is better than Tye,” he states with laughter in his eyes.
I look to Flynn and then Mack on the screen.
“Where is Tye?” I ask.
“He enjoyed watching us on the screen so much last week, the little perv, he’s only allowed to watch you today from his laptop. This is his punishment for impersonating me.”
“Oh dear,” I reply, feeling bad for him. But as punishments go, it could be worse, surely.
“The floor is yours, Flynn,” says Mack through the screen.
Flynn takes the laptop out of my hands and sits it on a chair he has positioned near the sofa looking into the room, not out to sea.
Then he beckons me to stand in front of the sofa, on the rug between Rory and Mack.
I don’t know what is going to happen until Flynn picks up a familiar box and sets it down on the sofa.
“Ahhh, I see,” I say, it’s going to be playtime with the tools.
“Are you ready?” asks Flynn.
“Sure am. Are you ready to have an audience?” I enquire, knowing full well he hasn’t done this with an audience before.
“For them I am. Look up,” he says and I do. It’s then that I see there is a heavy-duty hook anchored into the ceiling with a thick chain hanging down that ends with a large metal ring.
“Suspension?” I ask with a mix of nerves and excitement.
“Suspension,” Flynn confirms, his eyes boring into mine.
I feel the hairs on my neck stand on end as a chill runs through my body.
I hold my wrists out in front of me together in an offering as I hold Flynn’s eyes.
The corner of his mouth twitches up and I know I’ve pleased him.
I always want to feel this feeling of pleasing Flynn, it’s like a warmth that spreads through my whole body.
The question is, what are he and Rory going to do to me when I’m suspended?
Flynn bends down and picks up a bundle of silk rope and unravels it, sizing me up, his eyes on my body, mapping out the path he is going to take.
I take a calming breath as he gently bends my arm at my side and starts weaving the rope around my arm, securing it bent at my side and then moves to my other side to do the same.
Every time I feel his fingers brush my skin, electricity runs through my veins, his movements feel like a practiced dance around my body.
I love when he has to stand directly behind my back and he threads the rope criss-cross over my chest. Feeling the size of him engulf my body in such a way has me weak at the knees and the pleasure surging to between my legs.
My mind feels at peace as Rory watches on, fascinated, as my arms are locked into place and what feels like a chest harness is rigged up on my body.
Then the ropes continue to be wrapped and knotted around my body as he creates structures down my hips and my thighs.
Flynn is constantly tugging, testing the structure of my support system as my body is engulfed by an intricate weave of knots and design.
I’m lulled into an erotic hum of touch and need.
I feel every brush of his fingers as he wraps me in rope.
Every caress, every warm breath on my skin as he leans into me and covers my body in designs.
Again I find myself at the whim of Flynn, he can do as he pleases with my body now I am unmoving.
He places a small box in front of me for me to stand on.
When I do, he begins attaching the roped design on my body to the hoop hanging above me.
I nervously pray he knows what he’s doing as I feel the rope pull at my back and put pressure on the ropes that are criss-crossing over my shoulders, chest, hips and thighs.
He lifts one leg to bend behind me and begins to bind it, leaving me standing on one leg and the other high up, rendering my legs wide open for all eyes and access.
I feel like an aerobatic circus performer, almost hanging from the ceiling.
When that leg is anchored to the hanging hoop he turns his attention to my right leg, carefully removing the box from below my foot and letting the rope take my full weight from my upper body to my thigh.
He bends my remaining straight leg and continues the intricate weaving until I’m in my final position hanging from the ceiling horizontal with my arms behind my back and my body arched with my chest out, my spine curving up with my legs open like a butterfly behind me.
The rope is taking my weight but not cutting off any air or circulation.
I feel like a bird suspended in a globe, a centrepiece that spins.
When Flynn seems happy with my posture, he circles me, testing and ensuring I’m comfortable which, remarkably, I am.
My weight is very evenly distributed across my chest, hips and legs.
My more pressing discomfort is the throbbing between my legs.
We all hear the groan of Mack from my screen.
“Baby, I want to see you like this every week. The things we can all do to you like this,” he murmurs through the screen, desire lacing his voice.
If I wasn’t a puddle already by the way Flynn moves around my body, I am a needy mess now. I don’t have the capacity to move or escape. I am a hanging toy for them to play with. And that feeling ignites something primal in me, when, in reality, I am the prey.
Rory sits forward on the sofa, mesmerised by Flynn’s skill and mimics Mack’s groan too.