Todd studied her carefully, watching her face for clues as to how she took the ideas he put forth. She seemed calm enough about the nipple clamps, but when he’d mentioned piercing her nipps, the pulse in her throat spiked.
“Does nipple piercing frighten you?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re pulse is racing. Why?”
“I….”
“Ah, I understand. It arouses you.” He pinched her nipples again, this time adding a twist that startled a groan from her throat. “You like pain. I guess we’ll have to see how much.”
Once again, he soothed with a firm but undemanding touch. “Last night, the spanking felt good at first, but then you recognized it for what it was. Punishment, not pleasure. There aren’t many things I will punish you for, but I will punish you if you break my rules. Do not touch yourself in a sexual way,
ever
, unless I tell you to. Do not flirt with another person, man or woman, unless I tell you to. Do not show your breasts, ass, or pussy to anyone, not even your doctor, unless you seek my permission first. All of those are punishable offences.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Good. I promised you a good fuck if you signed the contract. Do you remember?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I always fulfill my promises.”
Chapter Seven
“Whoa! Hold up, Superman!”
Todd slowed his pace, allowing Jason Holder to catch up with him in the hallway leading from the Clubhouse to the dugout. He mentally prepared himself for what was coming. Over the last few months, the pleas for him to stay had become an almost daily annoyance.
“I swear, Holder, the next person to call me that is going to need new teeth.”
He resumed walking, and Jason matched his stride. “You can’t blame ‘em. You’ve been hitting the cover off the ball. Why don’t you share you secret with the rest of us?”
“Here’s the secret.” He stopped, fisted Jason’s jersey in his hand, and drew him close. He whispered in the younger man’s ear. “See the ball. Hit the ball.”
Jason smiled and stepped back, raising his hands in surrender when Todd let him go. “Okay, okay. I get the message.”
“No, you don’t,” he said. “The message is, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing that’s any different than I’ve been doing for the last ten years. Maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s the pitchers. Maybe it’s the new paint in the clubhouse. All I know is my game is good these days, and I want to keep it that way.”
“Whatever it is, we, your humble teammates, are grateful. We just wanted you to know that.”
He laughed. “So, you drew the short straw today, huh?”
“Yeah, I did. We want you to stay, man. I’m sure there are lots of teams out there who’ll pay you more, but they won’t be us. We’re special. We loved you even when you couldn’t hit for shit. Doesn’t that give you a warm, fuzzy feeling?”
“That’s the worst please-don’t-leave speech I’ve ever heard.”
Jason laughed. “It’s true though. Every word. I know warm fuzzy feelings are nothing compared to the heat generated by a fat contract, but as my grandma used to say, ‘money isn’t everything.’”
“Easy for you to say, Mr. Moneybags,” he countered, continuing to the dugout. “I’m looking retirement in the face, and the bigger my nest egg, the bigger my nest.”
“Yeah, but just because the egg is big doesn’t mean it’s good. Think about it, buddy. That’s all we’re asking.”
He thought about what Jason said all through the game. The Mustangs
were
warm and fuzzy, and like an old pair of slippers, they fit just right. They were a great bunch of guys, from the front office all the way to the grounds crew. And they
had
stuck by him on more than one occasion when not only his batting had suffered but his fielding, too. In fact, he’d expected to be traded a few years back, but Doyle Walker had called him into his office, told him to get his shit together— though he’d said it much nicer—even offered to listen to whatever was on Todd’s mind if it would help.
He hadn’t taken him up on the offer of talking mainly because he wouldn’t have had a clue how to tell the team manager his life sucked because he was afraid to date. That had been before Frank Williams had invited him to visit The Dungeon with him and changed his life. He’d found out he wasn’t a pervert, and there were plenty of people in the world just like him. He’d also found a safe way to explore his dominant side. He’d found peace.
His game had improved steadily from there, and he was damned grateful the Mustangs hadn’t traded him back then. He owed them for that.
And he’d paid them back with six of his best years in the game.
Jason was right, money wasn’t everything, but it could buy a shitload of stuff—and peace of mind. That equaled happiness, didn’t it?
The truth was, he
did
know what was different.
Brooke.
Since they’d signed their contract, his life had never been better. He smiled more. Laughed more. He looked forward to every home stand because it meant he’d see her again. He’d get to fill himself with her—her scent, the feel of her skin, her laughter, and especially the sounds she made when she came. She was like no other woman he’d ever been with, and despite what the contract said, they’d spent time talking. Mainly, he listened, but he’d told her about his family, leaving off before he mentioned his job.
He didn’t know why he withheld the information. It was something he felt he needed to keep to himself, perhaps because doing so would acknowledge what he had with this woman was more than good sex.
It is more than good sex, and you know it.
His new sub was completely open to exploring the deepest recesses of her sexuality, and her trust in him was humbling. She had yet to safe word out of a scene—and he’d taken her to some dark places to which he’d gone right along with her.
Early on, she had expressed a desire to be watched. He’d introduced the possibility the night they signed the contract, asking her to leave the curtain open so anyone who happened by might see her.
Several times since then, he’d arranged for the two-way mirror to be blocked from the outside, blindfolded her, then opened the curtains, planting the idea people were watching her. She’d responded immediately to the imagined stimulus. Tonight, he planned to take it a step further.
Frank Williams was in town. In honor of his induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame, the Mustangs were retiring his number next week, and to celebrate, Todd had invited Frank to The Dungeon for a session with him and Brooke.
***
Brooke watched through her lashes as her master fastened the leather cuffs to her wrists. He’d seemed in a particularly good mood when he arrived, and for once, he’d opened the curtains over the two-way mirror and hadn’t blindfolded her. She was wet just thinking about what his actions meant.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said. “I know how much you like to be watched, so I’ve arranged for a friend of mine to join us tonight.”
Completely disregarding protocol, she jerked her chin up and stared at the mirror. All she saw was the reflection of Todd and herself, but was there someone out there?
“He’s there. I wanted a few minutes to prepare you.” He lifted one wrist then the other, hooking the cuffs to a bar above her head.
Oh, Lord
. Her pulse raced. In order to fasten the cuffs, he had moved to the side, so she was completely exposed to the man behind the mirror. This wasn’t hypothetical, was it?
“His name is Frank.”
Not hypothetical. The man has a name.
“He taught me everything I know about being a Dom, so no worries there. He’s here to observe, but he’s an expert with a cat-‘o-nine-tails. I’ve asked him to show me his technique again.”
He knelt, fixed cuffs around her ankles, and attached a spreader bar between them. She couldn’t quit staring at the mirror. Her nipples grew hard, and her pussy tingled at the thought of being watched and flogged by another Dom.
“I wouldn’t let him touch you if I didn’t trust him.” He straightened, moving to stand directly in front of her, so she had no choice but to look at him. His hands skimmed along her sides, from her armpits to her hips then up again to cup her breasts. “You’re beautiful.”
She lifted her chin, needing to see what was in his eyes. Amusement. Excitement. Lust. She forgot they were being observed and fell under the spell of his gaze.
“I’ve been dreaming of this for weeks.” He bent his head and took her lips in a rare kiss that made her knees weak and her pussy ache.
She let her wrists and the bar take more of her weight, the bite of pain a reminder of her situation.
“I had to taste your lips before I taste the rest of you.” He reached for something in his back pocket. “You’ll need this.”
A ball gag dangled from his fingertips.
“Don’t worry,” he said, inserting the ball between her lips. “I have a handkerchief for you.” He produced a square of white cloth and pressed it into her right hand. “If you need us to stop, drop the handkerchief.”
He stepped away, leaving her completely exposed and vulnerable. Her gaze darted to the mirror then back to the man restraining her.
“I’m going to let him in,” he said, his gaze intent on her face.
She let her eyes speak for her, showing him all the trust and faith she had in him.
The door swung wide. Frank stood in the opening, taking her naked body in with assessing eyes. Cool air from the hallway gave her gooseflesh and caused her nipples to tighten, but he made no attempt to shut the door.
This room was in a busy part of the club. What if someone walked by?
“She’s beautiful. It’s almost a shame to keep her behind a closed door,” he said.
Heat warmed her from the inside out. Frank was older than her master, but not by much. He had the look of a businessman who took care of himself, from his muscled legs encased in black leather to the smooth, carved musculature of his bare chest. In one hand, he held a flogger, the nine knotted leather strands dangling along the length of his right leg.
“Close the door, Frank. This is a private session,” Todd said.
“Whatever you say.” Frank stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He came to stand in front of her, his gaze still examining her in detail. She hadn’t thought her nipples could get any harder, but when he looked directly at them, the painful tightening made her eyes water.
“Brooke, this is my friend, Frank. Frank, Brooke.” Todd made the unnecessary introductions then moved to the mirror, pulling the curtains closed, sealing her inside with two very experienced Doms. She drew a deep breath through her nostrils and let it out.
“I’m at your service,” Frank bowed to her.
She inclined her head in acknowledgment of the older man.
“We’re here for you, babe. Your master assures me you need and want to feel the flogger. He also tells me it is your wish to be observed by a third party.”
She nodded, and Todd approached. Frank moved away, allowing him access. He smiled at her, lifted her left breast in his right hand. Bending, he took her nipple in his mouth and sucked hard. She closed her eyes, groaning at the sensation of wet heat, the tugging that seemed as if her nipple was connected to her pussy.
The air shifted around her, and she opened her eyes to see Frank staring at her. Their gazes locked, held for a heat-charged moment. Then Frank broke away, his gaze traveling to her breast and the man suckling there.
Lust filled Frank’s gaze, and something in her soared. Todd moved to her other breast, lavished attention on it then, with his hands at her waist, moved lower. The top of his head descended until it stopped level with her mound. The first flick of his tongue over her clit had her rocking her hips, begging for more.
Frank stepped closer. She looked away from Todd and the delicious things he was doing between her legs. Her gaze locked with Frank’s, and she couldn’t look away. It was undoubtedly the most erotic moments of her life, looking into the bottomless eyes of one man, seeing the lust there, while another man drove her insane with his lips and tongue.
She struggled against her restraints, wanting desperately to touch, to have reassuring human contact. But she was on her own, locked away from what she needed from one man and locked in to the fiery gaze of another.
Her chest heaved with the effort to take in enough air through her nostrils. Sounds of longing, of desire, of intense pleasure formed only to be swallowed by the gag. Reduced to her eyes for communication she used them to beg.
He must have seen her cry for help. Frank moved to her side, their gazes locked in silent understanding. He raised the flogger to her chest, dangled the thin leather strips over her aching nipples, letting the hard knots knock against her distended flesh.
“You need to come, don’t you?” he asked, his voice low, seductive, knowing.
She let her eyes speak for her.
Slowly, he moved to stand behind her. He pressed himself against her, his erection digging into the small of her back. The flogger dangled over her shoulder, keeping up the rhythmic teasing of her nipples. His other hand wrapped around her forehead, applying pressure until the back of her head rested against his shoulder. He stroked her brow, along her temple to her jaw. His fingers traced her thinned lips, over her chin, and down the length of her neck.