You know, when Patrick told me that I would be working a party, I didn’t expect to actually enjoy it. I smiled to myself as I made my rounds slowly in the room. It was a lot less terrifying than I thought it would be to stay at the Plaisir Interdit, specifically tonight I had been scared about serving drinks naked. That had dissolved the moment I spotted Patrick and Jon in the corner.
I tried not to look at them, him, honestly, I did, but they were so tempting, and I could feel their gazes searing my skin. I turned to the side, giving them a nice view of my ass and tits all in one and clasped my hands behind me as I hooked one ankle over the other.
People lounged around the brightly lit space, feet propped up on velvet ottomans, naked slaves knelt beside their handlers, several other naked women worked the room with me - serving drinks, getting felt up, publicly fucked. I never saw my life going this way.
I didn’t tell Patrick, but the Mistresses fascinated me and scared me more than anyone else. Their controlled demeanour, sly smiles, well-groomed and styled appearance just added to their allure. I found myself blushing and flustered every time I was in the same room as them, and I almost asked Patrick if he planned on sharing me with one of them. I was pulled out of my reverie by a whistle, I turned and caught Patrick’s gesture to come over. I smiled at him and tried not to run straight to his arms, as I reached the two men, he pulled me down to his lap, his hand immediately sliding up my thigh.
“You’re doing well,” Patrick murmured in my ear. “Spread your legs.”
I complied happily and relaxed further against him, gazing up at him in awe as he rested his hand barely an inch from my aching pussy. I knew what this was, even if he didn’t say it out loud; this was Patrick staking his claim in front of the other man. I caught Jon’s eyes assess me, lingering on my Master’s hand for a long minute. I was so glad he was here because I was certain that meant Patrick would share me with the other man. I couldn’t forget how his hands felt, or the disappointment at him not being there for my initiation. But he was here now.
I ran my hands over Patrick’s body; his thighs, his arms, up around his neck as he caressed me and casually chatted with his business partner. I wanted to believe that he dressed up for me; the obsidian suit with matching black dress shirt, the sleeves pushed up his forearms, the casually swept back chestnut hair, his trimmed but still there stubble - all completely perfect for me.
“We’re going upstairs in a moment,” he said suddenly. “Ike and I have a surprise for you.”
I caught the frown that flashed across Jon’s face at Patrick’s words before he spoke. “I thought I would be overseeing her training with Ike?”
“You’re preoccupied with Eloise right now, and I’m staying in the city so it makes more sense.” Patrick stared the other man down, his grip obviously tight on his scotch glass.
Time held still, the music faded away and it was like everyone around us had moved away as a look of pure anger came over Jon’s face. “I think we need to talk about this,” Jon snapped. “Because I feel like I’m missing something.”
“Lydia, you don’t have to come with us,” Patrick murmured to me as they stood up.
I frowned and clutched his arm tightly. “This involves me too; I want to come.”
He assessed me for a moment before guiding us out of the entertainment space and into a study; the wood-panelled walls, red carpet, and floor to ceiling bookshelves made the room feel professional and unwelcoming in my naked state. Patrick held me close and I couldn’t watch Jon as he paced the room in frustration.
“What the fuck is going on lately? I had no idea you had even confirmed her stay here, and just now you’re telling me that I’m not involved with this?”
“I didn’t like the control you continued you exert over her,” Patrick said with a shrug. “I was clear with what I wanted, and you overstepped your boundaries.”
“Oh, for fucks sake Patrick, you have got to be kidding me right now.” Jon slammed his glass down and approached us, his icy glare focused straight on my Master, I bristled. “Stop thinking with your dick for five minutes, you struggle with maintaining control in a scene and even more with brats, Lydia is no exception.”
“I don’t like being talked about like I’m not here,” I said softly, my stomach twisting into knots. Patrick stroked my arm reassuringly and I leaned into his side.
Jon watched us for a minute before realization dawned on his face. “You’re really that insecure that you wanted her to move out of my office, removed me from her list of allowed visitors, and now you’re trying to be all touchy-feely to show off? Are you that childish?”
“You knew what I wanted,” Patrick replied coldly. “I told you right from the beginning and you still had to assert dominance despite the fact that she isn’t yours, even after I asked you to back off.”
“Lydia,” Jon said exasperatedly. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
I frowned and glanced up at Patrick; he looked tired, dark circles prominently on display under his eyes. “Patrick,” I said softly. “Can I talk with him privately for a minute?”
He looked like I had punched him in the gut but agreed to give us a few minutes alone, the lock clicking loudly behind him as he shut the door. I turned back to Jon, fiddling with my manicure and trying not to pick at it anxiously.
“He didn’t like me calling you Mr. Harris,” I told him with a shrug. “He didn’t think I would listen to him if I thought of you as a superior.”
Jon narrowed his eyes at me. “And what do you think?”
“I think that I’m being used as a pawn in some pissing contest, even if neither of you wants to admit it.”
“You’re not a pawn, Lydia. Yes, this happened at the wrong time - we have some shit going down with the office, but we never tried to bring you into that.”
If I’m not a pawn, you wouldn’t be so upset about losing me. “Why are you so upset about this?” I demanded. “At the party, you told me flat out that you get bored and nothing was going to happen between us.”
“It’s the principle of the matter; I initiated you into our games, you were my assistant first, and now I’m being slapped in the face,” he answered. “I didn’t want anything romantic with you, I already did the middle-aged man dating a twenty-something - it didn’t work, and I prefer to keep my options open.”
“Didn’t?”
“Don’t,” he corrected with a sudden blush. “But I do miss seeing you around my office.”
Oh god, that felt like a sucker punch. I missed him too, I missed joking with him and talking about our days, and I desperately missed the little accidental touches here and there that left me breathing in the scent of his cologne for hours.
“I love Patrick,” I said softly, more to myself than anything. “I’m not going to do anything he doesn’t want me to, not in this context, but I want you involved. You’re going to have to work it out together though because I’m not going to sit here and listen to you negotiate over what you want to do to me.”
Jon stared at me, his face unreadable, when he didn’t say anything, I asked him the question that had been eating at me, “When I started at the company I was under the impression that you were divorced, that’s what everything I saw online said. But Patrick told me you’re not, why didn’t I know that?”
He shrugged. “Christine and I are separated, we just don’t talk much about it.”
“Are you ever going to be divorced?”
“No, I’m not keen on paying out six-figure alimony checks if we’re being honest. It’s just easier for me to hand her the credit card and call it a day.”
I laughed; I couldn’t help it. “You’re a lawyer and you didn’t sign a prenup?”
Jon smirked and leaned back on the desk, visibly relaxing at my reaction. “I wasn’t a lawyer when we got married, I was naïve and in love and it didn’t even occur to me that we might not make it.”
Something in his voice as he said he was in love made my heartache for him. It was clear to me that even though they might not be together, it was still a sensitive subject for him. Without thinking I stepped towards him and he pulled me closer until we were toe to toe with me staring up at him expectantly. His hand cupped my cheek, we were so close and it would be easy to just lean in and kiss him like I so badly wanted to.
A loud rapping at the door made me jump back and I turned to see Patrick standing in the doorway. I reached for him without thinking, my arms going around his waist as I tucked my head into the crook of his neck. “You two should talk, I’m going back out there – ok?”
“Alright,” he murmured, stroking my hair. “I’ll come find you shortly, kitten, you go find Ike.”
I nodded and left the men alone in the tense room. I wanted Jon to stay involved, I liked his unwavering, unquestioning control. I liked that because he wasn’t interested in me outside of sex, he didn’t worry about hurting me, he wasn’t focused on making sure I was ok every few minutes like Patrick had started to.
I tried not to dwell on them talking in the study, instead, devoting myself to finding Ike. Master O’Connell, I mentally corrected.
“Miss Lydia, I was wondering where you got off to.”
I glanced up and saw the Master approaching me, his suit jacket open and fanned around him. My mouth watered as I took him in; the all-black suit and dress shirt, his hands decorated with several thick silver rings, his long, controlled stride, every inch of him radiated sexual prowess. Or maybe I just thought that because I was constantly in a state of arousal while I was here.
“Master O’Connell,” I greeted shyly, my head slightly bowed to avoid eye contact. “My Master is having a conversation with Mr. Harris, they told me to come find you.”
“Perfect, let’s go - we’re taking you into the Display Room today,” Master O’Connell replied happily. He guided me down the corridor to the left of the entryway, the area that Patrick had explicitly kept me from before now.
Master O’Connell unlocked the massive double doors while I stood beside him patiently, my hands clasped behind my back. I don’t know what I expected the display room to be, but it certainly was upping the ante on whatever games my Master had in mind.
I found out very quickly that the reason it was called the ‘display’ room was because of the equipment, specifically the number of restraint systems. Towering, medieval X shaped crosses lined the back wall, the ceiling had a complex series of metal grates with dangling shackles and several slings, and that didn’t even touch the dozen or so stockade type floor devices. The ceiling was mirrored beneath the grates, I noticed with a grimace, as was the wall with the double doors. Like a repurposed dance studio.
I was overwhelmed, I had no idea where to look, what I could touch, and the mirrors were more than a little distracting. I was turning in a slow constant circle as I rubbed my suddenly clammy hands over my thighs. Where was Patrick? Where was Mr. Harris? I didn’t want to be in here without one of them.
“Lydia,” Master O’Connell called to me from across the room. “You look like you’re going to pass out, do you need to sit down?”
I nodded vigorously, unable to speak as I turned and walked towards him, my shaking knees making the move difficult. He gestured to a padded bench that I eyed suspiciously, when I was certain it was relatively innocuous, I hoisted myself up, my feet swinging lightly.
“Do you do this all the time?” I asked suddenly.
He laughed, an unexpected sound but clearly pleased that I hadn’t keeled over. “Yes actually, I’m a professional Dom now, but I used to be a defence attorney with Jon .”
Professional? “Really? Like a prostitute?” My cheeks burned as the words fell out before I could stop them.
He smirked and leaned back on the saddle-shaped seat behind him. “Again, yes, but also no. When I have clients there isn’t any penetration, it’s mostly impact play and power fantasies. Here it’s a bit different since I’m not on the clock.”
“Impact play,” I said quietly to myself. I cleared my throat before addressing him again, “I’m going to tell you something super embarrassing, please don’t tell Patrick - okay?”
Master O’Connell smiled fondly at me and agreed with a pinky promise, it did more to calm my frayed nerves than anything else could have.
“I never really did any of…this stuff until I met my Master and Mr. Harris. Like, I knew it was a thing, but I never paid attention to it, and I’m so overwhelmed but I don’t know how to tell them.”
Master O’Connell was quiet for what felt like an eternity, when he finally spoke his voice had taken on an authoritative but concerned tone. “You need to tell him if there are things you don’t want to do, or things are moving too fast for you. When did you start with all this?”
“A month? A month and a half maybe?” I offered with a noncommittal shrug. “I never really paid attention to this type of thing before Mr. Harris and I started fooling around a couple of weeks ago.”
He sucked in a sharp breath and ran his hand through his hair. “Do you want to leave? No one would be upset with you, I promise, I just want to know that you’re ready to be playing like this.”
I glanced around the room, my heart rate had started to even out and talking with Ike was so easy I almost forgot that I was naked and about to be fucked six ways from Sunday. Do I want to leave? I had been so scared to come here, worried that I might be left here - what did that say about my trust for my Master?
I stared down at my hands for a moment before glancing up to the racks on the other side of the room; the whips, the canes, the floggers - every single one of those enticed me, the flogger specifically had me getting wet just by looking at it. I hadn’t experienced anything that I hadn’t liked, not yet anyway.
“No,” I answered finally. “I want to be here; I think I just want him to slow down a bit…”
“You want who to slow down on what?”
Heat met my cheeks as I turned to see Mr. Harris and Patrick entering the room. The tension between them had visibly dissolved and I was relieved. Before I could answer my Master though, Ike spoke up, quickly outing me.
“You, Rosing, she wants you to slow down on the BDSM,” Ike told him with a quick glance to me. “I don’t know if having her in here is a good idea right now.”
What a snitch. The men turned to me, staring expectantly. I wrapped my arms around myself and locked eyes on the light wood floor, assessing the grain closely.
“Lydia?” Patrick said softly, reaching out to touch my cheek. “What’s wrong, kitten?”
I swallowed the massive lump in my throat before answering, “I, um, I want to slow down because this is all really new…” My voice was weak and shaky.
“How new?” Mr. Harris asked suddenly, a note of concern in his voice.
“Getting fucked on a desk a few weeks ago new,” I answered.
If I thought the tension in the study had been smothering, it was nothing compared to the weight of the silence in the Display Room now. I almost jumped out of my skin when Patrick gave a sudden long groan followed by a disbelieving laugh.
“Oh, kitten,” he grumbled as he stroked my hair. “I’m not upset, please look at me.” He tilted my chin up when I didn’t comply. “This is why you were so scared about coming here, isn’t it?”
I nodded and bit my lip as I tried to formulate a response. “I didn’t know how to tell either of you, then it just got embarrassing to admit that I didn’t understand half of the things you two would talk about.”
“You were so receptive in the office that I just assumed…” Mr. Harris trailed off, waving his hand as he stared blankly at the wall.
“Maybe we should just stick to lighter things for now; like spankings, maybe a few restraints—”
No way! “I don’t want to go back,” I interrupted quickly. “I like everything we do; I just have reservations about the things you want me to do eventually.”
“Like your initiation,” Patrick said with a sigh as he ran his hand through his hair. “You were so upset, I just assumed you were coming down hard, I didn’t think it was because it was too much too fast.”
I just felt so guilty afterwards.
“Let’s take her upstairs,” Mr. Harris told Patrick. “We can bring her back down here when she doesn’t have such intense emotional reactions.”
Patrick held his hand out and helped me off the bench, Mr. Harris trailing behind us as we started for the door. I glanced back at Ike and frowned, I didn’t want to suck ten dicks at once again, but I wasn’t opposed to adding another person to our little menagerie.
“Is Ike not coming with us?” I asked Patrick.
He stopped and glanced back too, a sudden smile spreading across his face. “Are you coming, Ike?”
He clearly didn’t need any encouragement as he immediately bounded towards us, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.
Mr. Harris’ rested his hand on my back as he leaned down to whisper in my ear, “I already warned you about using first names, Miss Morrison. That’s two major infractions.”
Fire spread through my abdomen and I had to stop myself from clenching my thighs shut. “I thought you wanted to go easier on me,” I teased him to hide my sudden arousal.
“We’ll only do things you’ve already done multiple times, things that we know you’ll react well to.”
Oh. “Like the flogger?” I asked quickly. I really loved that thing; it was my favourite punishment so far.
Mr. Harris smirked but didn’t respond, just straightened up as the other man joined us. My Master kept his arm around my waist as we strolled through the halls together, the men talking in hushed tones about how best to tie me up in the bedroom - apparently face down, spread eagle was the ultimate choice. My heart fluttered as Patrick opened the door and motioned me inside, the men following closely behind, their eyes roaming over me hungrily.
For the first real-time since I arrived at the Plaisir, I actually really, really, wanted to be used by multiple partners. I had to wonder how difficult it would be to navigate three cocks at once and hoped they would take every opportunity to beat my ass black and blue if I messed up.