Cattail Club: Safeword Interrupted Part 8

It was nearing midnight, when Bethany headed down the dark hall to Deacon's office. As the manager of the bar, she rarely stayed until closing leaving that dubious ch.o.r.e to Deacon or his younger-then-him-by five-minutes twin, Steven. She kept her expression blank as she edged the door open. She didn't expect a repeat of the last time, but Deacon had been cooped up most the night with his brother, going over what had happened in the week they'd been gone.

She gave a brisk knock on the wooden frame, drawing her Master's attention. "Hey, I'm getting ready to head out. Tim's got the bar under control, and Louie just came on to help deal with the closing crowd."

Deacon, who had been conversing with Steven, turned to look at her. Seeing the two of them so close together, she was once again struck by the difference in the twins. While Deacon was dark, Steven was light. Where Deacon was broad, his younger brother was slim. But despite all of their outer physical differences, there was a strong determined will that both brothers shared. Along with a special twins' bond that being abandoned by their father had only made stronger.

Deacon gathered up the receipts in front of him. "Just give me a minute, little one, and we'll go."

Surprise, even shock, flowed through her. Deacon leave on Friday night before closing? That never happened before. He always stuck around to count the till and help Tim restock the bar. While the sub inside her melted at the idea of him wanting to make sure she got home, the independent businesswoman protested. Deacon was needed at Spurs and Chaps not playing escort. "There's no need. I can see myself home, Deacon. I've been doing it for years. Stay and do your usual. I'll see you in the morning for our weekly management meeting." She moved to leave.

"Stop right there."

The cold bark of his voice clawed up her back to settle at the base of her neck. She would've shivered in apprehension if her body didn't recognize that tone, and the resulting painful pleasure that usually followed it. She froze with her hand on the doork.n.o.b, then glanced over her shoulder.

"What?" She barely managed to force the world past the sudden lump in her throat.

Next to Deacon, Steven shook his head. "Why do they always do that? That's some magnetic pull you have there, brother."

"Leave."

If she hadn't been looking at Deacon, she'd have thought he was talking to her, but when Steven stood with a resigned sigh, a small spark of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. Nervously, she wet her lips when Steven brushed past her to exit the room. "Sir?"

Deacon narrowed his gaze. "So now the little submissive comes out." He drummed his fingers on the scarred desk. "I was wondering how long you were going to keep her buried under the guise of my manager."

She flushed she'd thought she'd done a good job of resuming her role as Deacon's manager of hiding her new inner submissive. "I have a bar to run, Sir. It can't be all games and play."

His jaw clenched. Then he stood, loosening the wide leather belt at his waist. It made a low raspy sound as it cleared his belt loops. "Come here."

Her heart leapt. "I..."

He gave her the look the same one he'd given her the last time she'd baulked at an order. "Do we need a repeat of what happened the last time?"

His blatant reminder of her punishment over the kitchen table made her weak in the knees. She bit her lower lip, then shook her head. "No, Sir. But you promised..."

"This isn't the bar, Bethany. It's my office. If I want to spank your little a.s.s for being high-handed, or f.u.c.k you blind across my desk, I will." The gleam in his eye sent a spiraling wave of l.u.s.t through her. It was the same heated look he'd given her before f.u.c.king her until she couldn't walk. She glanced at the unlocked door.

"Pleasure or pain." Deacon's words broke through her mental dilemma.

"Excuse me?" She shifted her weight.

"It's your choice. Either come over here willingly, so I can remind you who you belong to, or don't. But if I have to come after you, your a.s.s will be hot and I'll still f.u.c.k you." His eyes glittered. "Your choice."

Even as her inner sub begged her to obey to give him what he wanted, the independent woman in her rebelled. She wet her lips, then shook her head. "No. I don't think so."

The pure determination and antic.i.p.ation in his gaze should've scared her, but instead it made her thighs wet with desire.

"We'll see about that."

She gave a small squeal and darted for the door only to be caught up tight against him before her hand could touch its hard surface.

"Gotcha." His breath teased her ear. "Now, I think it's time to show you how much I'm not playing..."

She groaned, when his hands slid under her top to squeeze both her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, as he slowly backed them toward the desk. To where his belt waited. Her p.u.s.s.y gushed. Punishment or bondage no matter how he wielded the leather, she was about to be conquered and her inner sub couldn't wait.

Chapter Twelve.

Two Months Later "That's perfect, little one. Take it for me. I've dreamt of doing this for weeks."

The approval in Deacon's tone only increased Bethany's discomfort. She panted as she clung to the polished wood under her. She couldn't believe she was doing this. She should've never fallen for his 'I need to stop by the bar for something' act. True on a Sunday afternoon, the bar was closed, but she figured he'd forgotten his laptop again. But instead of sending her in to retrieve the missing computer, she found herself bent over her Sir's desk as he worked the slender a.n.a.l plug, ever so slowly an inch at a time into her a.s.s.

"Sir!" She gritted her teeth as the tapered tip breached her a.n.a.l ring for the first time. Since they'd returned from Puerto Rico, Deacon had slowly been opening her eyes to things she didn't think she'd have ever allowed a man to do until him.

"Quit tensing up. Let me in." He stroked his hand down her back, but never letting up on the pressure against her a.n.u.s.

"I'm....trying...." She groaned as he eased more of the silicone into her tight rear end with the aid of a generous amount of slippery lubricant.

It seemed to take forever, but he finally seated the toy. "Good girl." His palm brushed over the curve of her bottom, before giving it a playful slap. Then he tugged her thong back into place and smoothed down her skirt. "Give me five minutes, then we'll be on our way. I can't wait to show you the club."

She gasped when the plug shifted as she straightened. Taking two steps away from the desk, she stopped. Her earlier unease about going to the Cattail Club was obscured by the thick presence of the toy lodged in her a.s.s. Standing, the plug felt huge...and it fricken' moved each time she did. She thought the d.a.m.ned Ben Wa b.a.l.l.s had been bad. She bit her lip as Deacon moved around behind her, putting away the lube he'd pulled from his desk drawer, and shutting off the lamp on the far side of the room. As he placed a hand on the small of her back, she knew she'd be lucky to make it to his SUV without coming. Even with the collar at her throat, she'd never felt so owned.

After all it wasn't every day that a girl lets her man shove a s.e.x toy up her a.s.s and then go out for an evening of s.e.xual depravity.

"One step at a time, sweetheart." Deacon breathed his encouragement against her ear. "I know you can do it." He pulled the door open. "Just walk that s.e.xy a.s.s out to the truck, so we can be on our way."

She bit her lower lip. "I don't know if I can keep from coming, Sir."

He gave her a.s.s a gentle tap while urging her down the hall. "You can. We've been working on your endurance. A short walk to the parking lot will be a breeze compared to the gauntlet you'll be enduring once we get to the club."

Her p.u.s.s.y moistened at his reminder. Would he really strip her down to nothing but her thong and make her walk through the club with nothing more than a plug up her a.s.s and his collar around her neck? Her stomach rolled a bit at the thought, even as the rest of her body namely the traitorous flesh between her legs screamed for the experience. Every part of her wanted to please him. Which is why I agreed to this. But heaven help him if his uncle or someone else we known makes light of my submission. I'll kick his a.s.s Dom or not.

"Hmmm, something tells me that the wheels are turning in that pretty head of yours." Deacon brought her to a halt at the entry of the bar to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with both hands. She didn't even attempt to stop her soft sound of pleasure when he gave them a squeeze. d.a.m.n the man was good with his hands.

"So what it is? Are you having second doubts?" He pulled her back against his hard chest. "I know you don't think you're ready for this, but I do."

She sighed and relaxed against him, trusting him to hold her weight. "You just want to show off your newest sub, Sir."

He gave her another squeeze. "d.a.m.n straight. I'm proud to call you mine, Bethany. Going to the club will only cement your place in my life. The other members won't look down at you in fact, the other Dominants will respect you even more."

She turned her head to look up at him. In the shadows of the doorway, his gaze seemed shuttered, but she sought out his a.s.surance anyways. "Because it takes a strong woman to submit?"

He brushed his lips over hers. "Exactly. No matter what happens tonight, I want you to always remember that you are so tenacious and determined you can do anything."

"I will." She promised, but couldn't help but tease him. "No matter how rough it gets."

He chuckled. "It almost sounds like you want it to get rough."

She batted her eyelashes at him. "Now, I wouldn't say that...."

"Come on, imp. Let's go..." He gave her a gentle nudge toward the door. "...before I'm tempted to stay here and christen the bar."

Driving down the graveled road toward the Cattail Club, Deacon kept glancing at his sub out of the corner of his eye. Luckily, he knew this route like the back of his hand as many times as he'd travelled it. Other than some washed out ruts from the last storm, nothing on this trek had changed in the past ten years since his first trip. And much like the first time, his c.o.c.k was a steel rod in his pants.

And this time has nothing to do with unknown pleasures I would find. This time it's all about her.

He knew Bethany thought he was rushing, but under that uncertainty she wore like a cloak, he could tell she needed more than the time spent at his house. She needed the BDSM community to recognize her role in his life.

Too bad that that specific need scares the s.h.i.t out of her.

Keeping his grip loose on the wheel, he finally broke the silence. "Do you remember the rules, Bethany?"

She bit her lower lip, then sighed. "Yes, Sir. Once we enter the club, I become your exclusive property. I will stay at your left, two steps behind, unless you place me in front of you. Everything I do reflects upon you as a Dom, which is why I am not to meet any of the other Dominant's gazes, unless directed to do so." She shifted against the leather seat. "I am to obey instantly and without question."

"Very good. And the last thing?" The club's rules for claimed submissives may have seemed harsh to the untrained, but they were for the protection of the sub. Too many dominants took a direct gaze as a challenge to master the sub in question. A harsh reality, but an honest one. By adhering to the rules, it cut down on the fights between the Doms. However, he didn't want her to forget the real reason behind their trip.

Her lips quirked up. "I'm to enjoy myself immerse myself in the pure pleasure of submission as my master says."

He almost laughed at the way she threw his words back at him. More than anything he wanted to see her lost in her need to submit to please. In Puerto Rico, her submission had been beautiful, but almost dreamlike with its intensity because of the time limitations of their short vacation. However, he now wanted the reality of experiencing it with his friends present when she gave over to him. While he wasn't yet at the point he'd be comfortable physically sharing Bethany, he had a feeling their presence would only push his sweet little sub higher. "That's right. I need you to submit to me completely. It's been too long since we've done this."

She nodded. "It's been a long six weeks with everything that happened from your uncle's heart attack and your mom's cancer scare."

He sighed. He didn't want to think about the stress of his mother's very recent bout with Stage 1 breast cancer, or the fact his uncle had proved how mortal he really was when he'd collapsed at his store due to a blocked artery. Right now he needed to focus. Tonight was all about Bethany's sweet submission. "It has been, but I don't want to talk about LeRoy or my mother right now. I need to forget for a little while and just enjoy your body." He rubbed his fingers over the top of her leg, then turned his attention back to the road their turnoff was coming up. "Just remember when we get to the club, you're to remove your shoes, skirt, and top. I want you in nothing but that s.e.xy thong. Understand?"

Her breath came fast her braless nipples pebbled against the thin cotton of her shirt. "Yes, Sir."

"Good." He navigated the sharp right turn, then pulled into a huge pasture next to the ma.s.sive white barn that housed the Cattail Club. Choosing a spot a bit further from the barn for a little extra privacy, he shifted the SUV into park, then unbuckled his seatbelt to settle comfortably against his door. He stared at her, loving how every inch of her was his. With her blond hair pulled back into a high ponytail, her collar was a stark contrast to the honeyed hues of her skin. The sight of it not only drew him, but made him harder than h.e.l.l. "Before we go in, I need to make sure this is what you want."

"Sir?" She looked up at him, confusion in her expressive eyes.

"Spread your thighs." He kept his tone firm, almost cold noting that it had its usual effect on her. All he had to do was speak as if his blood wasn't boiling with l.u.s.t that he was in total control of both himself and her - and the sweet submissive side of his lover appeared.

She gave a soft moan, obeying his command but not fully. After unbuckling her seatbelt, she drew her skirt up to mid-thigh and parted her knees about six inches then stopped, her gaze daring him to object. That little bit of defiance would have made him smile if he knew she wasn't watching him from under those hooded eyes. At times, it seemed as if Bethany wanted him to force her obedience. Nothing brutal as rape, but just enough roughness to get her hot.

"Wider. I want to see how wet my p.u.s.s.y is."

A soft whimper teased his ears, before she shifted a bit more. Still not enough for him to see her s.e.x, but enough to glimpse the damp flesh of her inner thighs while sending the heady scent of her desire into the close confines of the vehicle. No doubt about it, his little sub was aroused to the point her juices had eased past the damp confines of her thong. Whether it was due to the a.n.a.l plug he'd used on her earlier or the immediate situation it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was dripping for him.

He made a sound of impatience, and pulled on her knee, while using his other hand to shove her skirt higher. "I said wider."

Her fingers curled against her thighs. Her breath grew raspier as she struggled to withstand her own desires. She wanted to submit but at the same time draw it out.

"That's one, sub." He pressed a bit harder, loving the way gooseflesh rose on her flesh at his touch.

"One what, Sir?" Her legs shifted further apart.

"Trip to the spanking bench." He nodded toward the backseat. "I have a flogger back there with your name on it, Bethany."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and another whimper escaped her. "Really? You're going to flog me in front of your friends?"

"If you don't do as I say, I'm going to do more than warm your a.s.s in front of my friends." He leaned closer, close enough his lips almost touched hers. "After turning your a.s.s cherry red, I'll pull that plug out and a.s.s f.u.c.k you until you're begging to come."

"s.h.i.t...." Her legs fell all the way open and her chest heaved. "I..."

Whatever she'd been about to say turned into a groan, as he took advantage of her splayed legs to cup her wet p.u.s.s.y. Giving it a good squeeze, he grinned as her eyes flew open. "You're definitely ready for your first adventure inside the Cattail Club."

Her white teeth scored her lower lip. "Or hot at the idea of being disciplined again." She took a deep breath. "It's been so long since I've felt the lash against my skin."

He cupped her cheek with his free hand. He knew the past few weeks had been hard on her. While most of the town had accepted the fact that they were dating, they had both retained their separate homes. Then she'd come down with a nasty case of the flu. She'd no sooner gotten over her bug, when his mom's breast cancer had reoccurred, and LeRoy had had a minor heart attack at work. She'd been a real trooper going to the first sessions of chemo with Deborah while he ran roughshod over his uncle to convince the man he needed to change everything from his eating habits to exercising. He could never thank her enough for putting his family's needs before her own. "Agreed. It's been entirely too long since I've watched your a.s.s redden."

He gave her p.u.s.s.y one last squeeze, before pulling his hand free of her thighs. "In fact, I think that will be the first item on the agenda tonight."

Chapter Thirteen.

With her stomach in her throat, Bethany followed her master into the misleading building that housed the Cattail Club. From the outside, it looked innocent one of the many barns that dotted the Iowa countryside. Inside, however, instead of hay, stalls and a loft, was a well-appointed BDSM club. Instead of stalls for horses or pigs, there were roped-off demonstration areas. She could see an empty s.e.x swing in one area, while another boasted the possibilities of a St. Andrews cross, while yet another had a bondage bed complete with stirrups. As she followed Deacon further into the dark recesses of the barn, the unease in her stomach warred with her desire. Without thinking, she pressed her hand to her stomach.

"Evening, Master Deacon." A familiar voice registered at the same time she caught sight of a bound woman riding...was that a Sybian machine? She could only imagine the power of the machine between her own thighs the thick d.i.l.d.o f.u.c.king her until she was screaming to come while Deacon handled the controls. Her already primed body hummed with l.u.s.t. Would Sir place her on that? She clenched her thighs together, more than aware of the fact she wore only the skimpy thong and nothing else.

"See something that catches you eye, little one?" Deacon questioned her softly.

She wet her lips, then nodded to the vibrating machine. "I never thought I'd ever see one of those in real life, Sir."

Deacon looked to where the sub was begging her master to let her come, her chest already flushing with her imminent release. Then he turned that all knowing gaze back to her. "Hmmm, perhaps next time I'll have to reserve some special play time for you. I'm sure the other Doms would love to watch you ride it."

Her breath grew faster at the idea. Would he really expose her for all his friends? Make her come in front of them? She nearly sank to her knees under the unrelenting force of her desire. Her Sir suddenly invaded her personal s.p.a.ce, closing the short distance between them.

"Hold it back." As usual, Deacon seemed to know when she was on the cusp of coming and was just as determined as always to control said release. "You haven't earned your pleasure yet."

"Yes, Sir." She shoved at the desire, trying to bury it under an avalanche of bookkeeping figures. So far, it had been the only way she'd found to stave off her need for release. Even thoughts of how pleased Deacon would be that she controlled herself were counterproductive. In fact, they would send her over the edge even faster.

"Good girl." He brushed his fingers over her cheek. "You'll be rewarded for your self-control after I see to your punishment." He eased back, then led her to the back of the barn.

She kept her gaze adverted from the people, but still managed to sneak covert looks around her as they pa.s.sed several spanking benches, a set of stocks, and various other furniture she had no idea what erotic uses they were designed for. If it weren't for the fact she trusted Deacon with everything, she might have been scared. She had to remind herself that her Dom would never break her trust - or push her past her hard limits.

"Here we are, Master Deacon. Mistress Annie made sure that your favorite horse would be available for your submissive's introduction to the Cattail Club."

"Thank you, Master Timothy."