My back slammed against the massive oak door, Jon’s hands were all over me – up my skirt, unbuttoning my shirt, pulling at my hair, wrapped around my throat as he whispered obscene things in my ear that made my toes curl. Anywhere he could touch, he did. I was panting, my hands were clammy, and every inch of skin that he touched, and stroked, and kissed, and groped – it all just added to the heat that felt like it would engulf me in flames.
He fumbled to get the door open, but we quickly stumbled through the threshold into the dark foyer. I had dropped off things here a few times, I knew, even in the dark, that it was all hardwood, ornately carved wall details, and stunning artwork. Jon seized my wrist and led me up the winding staircase to the second floor. I kicked my heels off and revelled at the softness of the carpet as I followed him blindly.
We ended up in a spare bedroom, a cavernous room with freshly polished flooring that made it smell like lemon, and a glittering chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling and cast swirling shadows on the dusted rose colour walls. But the stunning architecture was merely the backdrop for the several large restraint systems. A St Andrews Cross sat in the middle of one wall, beside it was a rack of several canes and a selection of floggers, on the other were paddles and whips. The left side of the room had a sling hanging down with a complex series of straps that confused me just by looking at it, on the right was a leather-padded bench, similar to the one at Plaisir.
My heart was pounding, I vaguely registered Jon dimming the lights and I swallowed hard as his hands slid up my torso, grasping my half-open blouse and ripping it open. Buttons skittered across the floor and I gasped in shock as I pressed myself back on him.
“You owe me a new shirt,” I complained half-heartedly.
“I don’t care,” he growled, gripping my throat tightly. “You’re going to be naked all weekend, you can worry about getting dressed on Monday.” Without another word he worked my skirt down and shoved me towards the cross.
I let him lock me into it, my cheek pressed against the cool board as my nails ate into the palms of my hands. What is he going to do? There were so many implements in the room that my mind was reeling with the possibilities. I couldn’t see him, and so I focused on listening to Jon pad around the room, his stride was determined and purposeful as it vibrated through the floorboards and up my body.
He ran a satiny cloth over me and I shivered at the unexpectedly gentle touch, without a word he secured it over my eyes, and I struggled to calm my erratic breathing. After a moment, I realized that the aroma of his cologne was lingering strongly, the thick, woody scent mixed with the faintest hint of his cigarettes. Is that his tie? I almost giggled as I realized it probably was, I definitely couldn’t keep the silly smile off my face.
“I have you completely at my mercy, I can do absolutely anything I want, and you’re smiling?” he asked, dark amusement obvious in his voice.
“Should I be scared?” I teased.
Jon swept my hair back and nipped at my throat lightly. “Very,” he replied.
The sensation of thin straps clustered together stroked up my back, I shivered and sucked a sharp breath as pussy became wet. A flogger. Newfound excitement coursed through me like a live wire and I was almost jittery.
“Suede,” he informed me. “Safeword?”
“Red.”
“Good. You’re going to count, and you’re going to thank me properly, if you don’t, I’ll edge you until you’re begging for forgiveness and then I’ll fuck your ass.” He paused briefly, his hand slipping down between my legs so he could stroke my slit. “Am I clear?”
I bit back a moan as his fingers found my clit. “Yes, Daddy,” I answered.
“Good girl.”
Without another word, he stepped back, and I fought the instinct to tense up, it felt infinitely better if my muscles were loose. He struck hard and fast; the suede straps hitting my ass in a swift, sharp sting. My nails dug into the wood of the cross and my eyes rolled back, the pain was nothing compared to the radiating warmth it created that spread across my ass and only made me wetter. With a shaky voice, I counted out loud and thanked him profusely.
He struck again, this time on the other side, the sound echoed harshly. A soft whine escaped me, but I thanked him anyway. He kept going, the hits getting sharper as he moved up and down my back, careful to avoid wrapping on my hips and sides, along with the sensitive area of my lower back. With each strike, I felt like I was plunged face-first into ice water, and then the burn would follow, it became repetitive, soothing. Tears were threatening to spill not long before he got to ten and then fifteen strikes, I couldn’t stop them from spilling over or the thick sound of my voice as I thanked him one last time.
“You listen so well when I’ve got your favourite toy in my hand,” he murmured against my shoulder, his lips brushing my skin and faintly tickling me with his stubble. He undid my bindings and blindfold, I sagged back into his arms and gazed up at him. His hands stroked my skin so softly that it felt like a dream, combined with the way he watched me with a faint smile convinced me that this was a dream.
My pussy was a soaking mess, I just wanted him to touch me more. “Please fuck me, Daddy,” I pleaded. “Please.”
He turned me around to face him, I stared up into his eyes and swayed lightly on my feet. It was hypnotic to watch him, intoxicating to feel his warmth and I felt like I was the centre of the universe. I sank to my knees without question, maintaining eye contact all the while. He smirked and slipped his hands in his pockets as he took a step back. He was the physical embodiment of power with his broad shoulders, towering frame, and controlled strength, and right now no one in the world could have had more control over me. He was still dressed, his crisp white dress shirt had the sleeves carefully rolled up, the top two buttons were undone, the silver belt buckle glittered against the perfectly pressed, obsidian black dress pants.
I fell forward onto my hands and crawled towards him, he continued moving backwards until he was standing in front of a maroon suede chaise lounge. I never took my eyes off him. Daddy sunk into the plush sofa, his legs spread wide and his arms spanning the length of the back cushions. He slid one leg towards me, and I glanced down at the shining black leather of his shoes.
“Kiss it.”
What! My eyes snapped up to his, I must have looked shocked because his smile just grew as he stared at me expectantly. I was horrified, more than slightly offended, and incredibly embarrassed at the way my pussy tightened and the pleasure coiling low in my abdomen increased. I couldn’t look at him as I did it, this was easily the most humiliating thing he had ever asked me to do. And god help me but I loved him for it.
I called Patrick my Master, Jon was my Daddy, both of them held a significant amount of power over me as it was, but here, on my hands and knees, actually kissing my boss’s feet - my Daddy’s feet - I had never felt more like they controlled every part of me. That they owned me in every way because this wasn’t just Jon, Patrick planned this with him, and that meant he was on a plane thinking about me kissing another man’s feet and getting off on my submission.
“Good girl,” he cooed.
My heart fluttered at his praise and I moved up Daddy’s leg slowly, my hands sliding up the insides of his thighs as I kissed my way towards the obvious bulge of his crotch. My mouth watered as my eyes locked on it, I knelt between his legs and trailed my tongue along the prominent line of his cock. He groaned and pushed me harder against it, I gently scraped the material of his pants with my teeth before sucking hard against the rounded head. He gripped my hair and pulled me up, I scrambled off the floor as he dragged me onto his lap, his mouth latching onto my nipple while his hands worked on his belt and zipper.
I moaned and tipped my head back, my fists twisting in his hair as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive peak repeatedly, bringing me closer to the edge. He freed his cock quickly and guided me onto it, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hip as he urged me up and down on his length. I dug my nails into his shoulders as I arched my back against his mouth. He kept sucking, teasing, and biting my nipples, moving back and forth with abandon and never staying on one long.
Every thrust had me climbing higher, my body bowing, muscles tensing as pleasure coursed through me like a white-hot current.
“Harder,” I gasped. “Fuck me harder, Daddy!” I cried out as he slammed me down on him over and over, bottoming out with every thrust while the prominent curve of his cock raked my g-spot.
“You’re such a good little slut,” he praised with a thick, lust-filled voice. “A filthy fucking whore just for me.”
Oh god. I cried out as I came suddenly, tightening around him as I rocked my hips back and forth in his grip. It pushed him over the edge and briefly his movements quickened and became almost frantic as he threw his head back and groaned loudly, his grip tightening further. I would have bruises all over tomorrow. The warmth of his come filled me and I fell against his chest, my arms around his throat as I kissed his jaw lazily.
Jon’s chest heaved with every laboured breath and I was practically purring as I stroked up and down his muscle, feeling the short smattering of hair under my fingers. I hummed softly as I cuddled into him, my heart finally slowly back down as I listened to his do the same. Both the men had gotten infinitely better with the aftercare issue, Master wouldn’t leave me alone until I assured him it was okay, Daddy would let me snuggle up to him until I was ready to let go. Right now, I couldn’t be more thankful for that.
“Are you actually going to make me stay naked all weekend?” I asked after several long, quiet minutes.
“Do you have somewhere else to be?”
“No.”
“Then yes, you’ll be naked, and you’ll like it.”
I laughed at his instantaneous answer, like it was no big deal. “What if I want to hang out with my friends?”
Jon rubbed my back softly, his hand splayed wide and his touch firm, it was comforting. “Then I’ll send the housekeeper out to find you something to wear,” he answered. “And if you don’t like what she gets you, then you and I can go shopping, or I’ll bring you back to Queens.”
“It probably would’ve been easier if I had just gone back to Queens in the first place,” I replied as I played with his hair.
“Probably, but I would’ve been ready to pass out by the time we got back, and then we wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun,” he said with a chuckle.
I smirked and kissed his throat. “Old man,” I teased. “Ready for bed before ten.”
He slapped my ass hard, I squealed and wiggled on his lap from the hot sting. Without warning, he stood up and pulled me with him, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist and my arms around his shoulders as he marched us down the hall. I couldn’t stop giggling at the absurdity of the situation – I was being carried like a child down the hall by my boss, to his bedroom, and I was more than ready to cuddle up to him under the covers.
I swear Jon’s bedroom was the size of my apartment; it had its own sitting area, double doors to the ensuite, and a large gas fireplace in front of the bed. The room was almost entirely encased with floor to ceiling windows and several curtains were strewn open, bathing the room in cold, muted light from the city. He set me down on the king-size mattress and I sprawled out against the soft cotton duvet while I watched him undress. A glint on his hand caught my attention and I noticed his signet ring, the same as Patrick’s, with the same triskelion design as my collar and bracelets.
Jon slid in beside me, propping himself up slightly, I just laid there for a while, watching the rise and fall of his chest.
“Jon?”
“Hm?”
“Why do you do this?” I asked quietly, pulling the comforter up around me.
“Do what?” he replied, turning his head to watch me with mild curiosity.
“The…sharing thing, I feel like I’m getting a lot more out of it than you or Patrick.” It was embarrassing to ask because I didn’t want it to sound like I wasn’t into it, I was very into this arrangement, but I didn’t see the appeal for them.
Jon took a deep breath as he glanced into the distance and then back at me, a smile tugged at his mouth and I wondered what he could possibly find so funny about this. “For Patrick, it’s like a child with a toy; he wants other people to see what he has, he lets them play with it, but you’re still his. There’s also the element of control; we can control everything in our lives, but having complete control over another person is intoxicating. For me…” he trailed off and stopped for a long minute. “I can buy just about anyone and anything, but you do this without that incentive. Finding someone who I’m attracted to, who isn’t looking for money or presents or whatever crap they can think of and is open and interested in what I want sexually is difficult. If I didn’t care, if I was willing to fuck anyone, even someone out just for a paycheck, then the pool would be much larger, but that’s not what I want.”
“Well then you’ve fallen for my devious scheme, cough up ten grand,” I told him, trying to hide my grin. “I’ve been playing you all this whole time and waiting for the right moment to strike.”
He glanced down at me and snorted with suppressed laughter as he pulled me to his side. “I see why Patrick likes you so much,” he murmured into my hair.
I closed my eyes as I traced swirling patterns across his chest. “Do you like me?”
“Why wouldn’t I like you?” he teased.
“You know what I mean.”
He was quiet again and I felt suddenly anxious as I pushed myself up to see him, his eyes were heavy, the blue colour dark and warry as he watched me straddle him. “I’m not looking for a proposal,” I whispered as leaned down to kiss him.
Jon reached up to thread his fingers in my hair, holding me in place. “No,” he agreed. “I know you aren’t. But I think what you’re asking is far more insidious.”
“Just say it,” I begged, my lips brushing his. “Tell me the truth.”
“I like you,” he replied easily. “Let’s leave it at that.”
“Let’s not,” I replied with a breathy laugh. “Why do you like me?”
“Lydia, I’m not trying to ruin my relationship with Patrick, and I know you don’t want to either,” he said quietly, his voice taking on a dark warning tone.
“You didn’t want to lose me,” I argued. “You were willing to fight to stay involved, you had me first, you want me every chance you get, and I know me staying here for a week wasn’t Patrick’s idea.”
“We had a discussion, he still wanted you to train, and he’s worked you into a routine that you’re becoming attached to. You didn’t want to go to Plaisir, so we agreed you should stay with me and I could keep you occupied.”
I kissed him hard, his mouth opened at my urging and his tongue quickly found my own. I moaned against him looped my arms around his neck as he rolled us over, onto my back as my legs tightened around his waist.
My heart was racing as he pressed me into the bed. “What happens when I want more?” I mumbled against him.
“I can only hope I don’t disappoint you too much.” His voice was resigned and tired. “I love you; I wish I could give you what you want but I can’t, and you need to accept that.”
I love you. Three words that I had wanted to hear for months, that I dreamt of hearing, and it felt nothing like I thought it would. It hurt because I knew he cared but he wasn’t going to act on it. And worse was that I couldn’t say it back, because I didn’t know if it was true. I loved Patrick, I wanted to tell him that before he left but I chickened out and now I wanted to tell him the moment he landed at JFK. I was scared, the game’s stakes had been upped and I wasn’t sure how to play anymore without hurting them or myself. More than anything, I just wanted to wake up and for everything to have been a dream.