CHAPTER 6 #2
“The only thing you’re allowed to think about is me. Think about what I could do to you right now in this vulnerable state. How I could pinch your nipples until you squirmed, until you begged me to release you.”
This time, when he inhaled, it was labored, but the panic was starting to ease. He was imagining me touching him, hurting him.
“You like the idea. What if I bit your nipple? Does the idea of that make your dick hard, pretty boy?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
I allowed my gaze to lower. Slowly, so he could see my appreciation.
“You ever wear a cage on your cock?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
“By choice or a demand from a Dom?”
“Choice.”
“How many Sadists have you played with?”
“A few. Over the years. But never consistent.”
That was the problem. He was seeking something but attempting to find it with varied partners.
I figured he had never been completely satisfied.
In all fairness, a Dom needed more than one session to get to know a submissive.
They had to take the time to learn what fueled them, what turned them on, what brought them pleasure.
While I didn’t practice what I preached, I did observe the club submissives.
I paid attention to them during other scenes so I could get a feel for what it was they wanted.
That way, in the event I did play with them, I had a better understanding.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. I had somewhere I needed to be before I headed to the club, and that was likely my reminder.
I took a step closer. Close enough the pretty boy was forced to look up to maintain eye contact. With a firm hand, I gripped his jaws and squeezed. Hard enough to keep his attention.
“Do you wish to please me?”
“Yes, Zeke,” he forced out.
“Then I expect you to do exactly as I say.”
He tried to nod, but I held his face firmly.
“When I leave, I want you and the cowboy to strip. Completely naked. For the rest of the time you’re here in this apartment this afternoon, you will be naked.
Under no circumstances are you allowed to touch the cowboy’s cock, and he is not to touch yours.
The only time you’re permitted to touch your own is when you shower. And only to wash. Understand?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
“I want you to shower together. I want you to wash each other. Again, you are not permitted to touch his cock and vice versa. Do not breach his ass and do not allow him to breach yours, because tonight, your dicks and your asses belong to me and only me. I am the only one allowed to touch you intimately. Understand?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
“I want you both to dress right before you leave the apartment. Jeans and T-shirts only. You are to be at Dichotomy at exactly nine o’clock. At the club, you will not be permitted to wear shirts, shoes, or socks. No underwear either. Understand?”
The pretty boy’s voice cracked slightly when he said, “Yes, Zeke.”
It was a start.
“You might as well bring all your shit, because once you leave the apartment tonight, I do not anticipate you’ll be coming back.”
He tried to speak, but I squeezed his jaw tighter, cutting him off.
“Once you arrive at the club, you have fifteen minutes to dress as I’ve stated and to meet me in the dungeon. If you’re even one minute late, everything’s off. Understand?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
“When you find me, you will kneel appropriately in the nearest corner, facing me, and you will not move until I tell you to. Under absolutely no circumstances do either of you have my permission to move. Understand?”
“Yes, Zeke.”
I narrowed my eyes, holding his gaze. “Tonight, you will learn what it is I want, what I expect from you, and what you’ll receive in return.
Should you be inclined to accept my proposition, you will be going home with me.
Both of you. This isn’t an either/or offer.
It’s both of you or neither.” I squeezed again to reiterate my next statement.
“This is only temporary. I don’t do permanent, and I don’t do long-term.
You better consider that before you make a decision, because that’s my one main rule.
I’m not in it for a relationship, I’m not looking for love, and I damn sure don’t intend to give either of you a commitment. Understand?”
He didn’t sound quite so confident when he said, “Yes, Zeke.”
Releasing his face, I took a step back and whistled. A second later, Tank was at my side. I glanced at the cowboy, ensuring we made eye contact. While I’d directed everything to the pretty boy, that had been a distraction, something to keep his mind off where he was and the panic that threatened.
“Do not be late. If you are … well, it was nice knowing you.”
With that, I turned and walked out of the apartment without a backward glance.
After leaving the apartment, I headed out for the errand I needed to run before I headed over to Dichotomy. I knew the club wasn’t open yet, but since this wasn’t a social call, that wasn’t necessarily important. Certainly not to me.
Stepping up to the oversized metal warehouse building, I pounded my fist on the door and waited. Someone was here. The cars in the parking lot were proof of that.
“We’re not open for another hour!” a disgruntled male voice yelled from inside.
“Open the goddamn door,” I grumbled, pounding on it again.
The clank of a latch being unhooked sounded before it squeaked open an inch.
“What do you want?”
“A word with the owner,” I told the sleazy fucker who stuck his head out. I pressed one big hand on the door and pushed, effectively gaining entrance.
“What the fuck, man? You can’t just barge in here.”
“Too late for that,” I told him, slamming the door. “Where’s the owner?”
The grungy guy studied me for a moment, as though weighing what answer he felt appropriate. “Razor’s a busy guy, man. He doesn’t allow walk-ins to meet with him. Plus, I’m not even sure he’s here.”
I peered down at the man, cocking one eyebrow so he could see my skepticism. “He’s here. Now, where is he?”
He slid a hand through his greasy hair, forcing it back. I hoped like hell the fool showered before he played because he looked as though he’d been rolling around in a vat of grease all morning.
“Fine,” he said with a huff. “He’s at the bar.”
I pushed by him toward the interior of the club.
I’d never been to Razor Wire, but the club had a reputation in the kink community.
Not a good one, either. A lot of shady shit went down in this place.
Drugs, prostitution, numerous reports of sexual assault, some against the owner himself.
They’d been accused of plenty of illegal activities, but none had been proven. Yet.
“What’s up, bro?” Tom “Razor” Miller looked cool and calm as I approached the bar.
“I’m not your bro.”
He snorted, but I noticed the concern in his dark gaze. “Hey, aren’t you Zeke? I’ve heard about you.” His smile was feral. “You interested in hanging out here? I’ll need you to fill out an application and pay the fee.”
“First of all, you don’t take applications and you don’t charge fees. And no, I’m not interested in hanging out here. I came to deliver a warning.”
He smirked. “You came to warn me? Do you even know who I am?”
“Yeah. And I don’t care.”
That didn’t seem to please him. His shoulders bunched, and he turned to face me, finally acknowledging I was a real threat. “Fine. What do I need to be warned about?”
“My sister,” I stated bluntly.
His eyes widened. “Dude, I didn’t know she was your sister. And I swear to God, she said she was cool with it.”
My hands clenched into fists. I’d be doing the city a favor if I fucked up his face a little more than it already was.
“You fucking moron. You don’t know my sister.”
“Oh.” He grimaced, all his confidence from before deserting him. “Then what the hell do you want?”
“Should she come sniffing around this place and you even let her in that front door, I’ll be paying you a visit again. And when I do, I’ll call the ambulance ahead of time because you’ll need it.”
Footsteps echoing off the concrete floors had me turning, assessing the situation.
“Hey,” the new arrival said. “I know you.” His eyes shot to the owner. “Why’s he here?”
For fuck’s sake. It was that stupid twit I’d taken care of a few months back. He’d been tossed out of Dichotomy after he’d physically abused his girlfriend in the club. I hadn’t been there that night, but I’d heard all about it. So, when Justin asked that I pay the fucker a little visit, I had.
“I see you’re outta the hospital,” I told him, ensuring he heard the venom in my tone.
He held up his hands. “Man, I haven’t messed with her. I’ve stayed away from Addison. Just like you said.”
Since I hadn’t heard anything from Justin on the matter, I had to assume he was telling the truth. But my beef wasn’t with him anyway. Turning my attention back to the owner, I narrowed my eyes on his face. “Do we have an understanding?”
He shrugged. “I don’t even know who your sister is.”
“Last name’s Lautner. Let her in, and you can ask your bro here what’s in store for you. Understood?”
I took a step closer, the bar keeping him safely out of my reach. Lucky for him. Granted, he still took a step back, as though I could crash through the warped wood.
“Yeah. Sure. Whatever. I won’t let her in.”
“I don’t play games,” I informed him. “And trust me, I will find out.”
With that, I turned to go, content for the moment.
While I’d made two stops at other clubs, intimidation tactics hadn’t been necessary.
There were plenty of kink club owners who ran a top-notch place, but I still didn’t want my sister stepping foot inside one.
However, I’d received the owners’ assurances that they would put her name on a block list merely out of respect for me.
This was not one of those places.
As I passed the guy manning the door, I thought of a dozen ways I could inflict pain on the three of them if they disobeyed.