Page 19

CHAPTER 19

Kayley

Vic climbed off me and retrieved items from the armoire. Then he pointed and circled a finger at me, his meaning clear.

My pulse picked up as I rolled over onto my hands and knees. I do love it when he fucks me like this.

Behind me, I felt him climb onto the bed and nudge my knees farther apart, kneeling between them.

He gently raked his nails up and down my back, slowly, making me undulate and practically purr, because… yeah.

I love that.

Taking his time, he increased the pressure with every pass until I was reasonably certain I was probably dripping all over the sheets from how horny I felt.

His hands settled on my hips, fingers digging in. “Common misperception that being a sadist is all about extreme pain.” He leaned in and bit me, hard, on my right ass cheek, making me squeal.

But I didn’t pull away because… fuck yeah.

“Do you want me to stop, baby?”

“No!” I gasped

He leaned in. “No, what , baby?”

My head dropped to the mattress. “No, Sir,” I gasped. Please don’t stop!”

A dark chuckle rumbled through him and he slid two fingers inside my dripping pussy while he bit my left ass cheek. He repeated this a few times, back and forth between sides, before sitting up.

“Let’s try something else.” Something flat and cool touched my ass, then he smacked me with it.

I yelped, but while it felt stingy it wasn’t exactly what I’d call painful.

“Color, girl,” he said.

My brain struggled to remember how to make words work. “Green,” I gasped.

Another smack. “Green, what ?”

“Green, Sir!”

“ Gooood girl,” he cooed.

Deep inside me, something broke free and pleasantly rolled over, wanting more. He took his time lightly testing various implements on me, even coaxing a couple of yellows from me before he set all of them aside.

“I think you’ve earned your reward, baby.” He pushed into me, his cock blessedly filling me and making me fist the sheets as I moaned.

Then he reached under me, pressed something between my legs, and…

Well, it felt like a nuke just dropped. Whatever the vibrator was, it wasn’t like anything I’d ever used before.

Pleasure exploded out of me and I didn’t even bother trying to stay quiet. I was aware of him fucking me, but I couldn’t get away from him right then even if I’d wanted to because every muscle in my body had short-circuited.

He hooked his other arm around my waist while he fucked me, every thrust deep and hard and punctuating my pleasure with more explosions that drove me over the brink again and again.

Finally, when I thought I couldn’t handle any more, he pulled the vibrator away and grabbed both of my hips. He surged into me over and over again, finally falling still deep inside me with a satisfied grunt.

“Oh, yeah,” he gasped, breathing hard.

I didn’t think I could move. So it was a good thing that he dropped onto me and rolled us onto our sides and spooned me, with his legs and arms securely wrapped around me.

“What the hell was that thing?” I finally managed.

He reached around, patting the bed, and finally came up with it. “This?”

I took it from him. Round and pink, it wasn’t very big. It fit in the palm of my hand and wasn’t quite as large as a tennis ball. It featured an orifice that?—

Oh.

Ohhhhhhh.

He pressed his hand over mine, activating the toy, and it buzzed to life.

“Clit sucker,” he said, evil joy threaded through his tone. “Did you like it?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s a hard green.”

He snorted. “Hard green?”

“Well, I mean, if there are flags and hard limits that are red, then it should apply to green too, right?”

“You’re too much, baby.” He kissed me, and I thought after a few minutes I’d be ready for another round, but the next thing I knew the room was dark and the clock read 6:22 AM.

Wow .

I carefully climbed out of bed without waking him, used the bathroom, and returned to snuggle with him. The next thing I knew, it was after eight, and I smelled coffee.

“There she is,” Vic said next to me.

I yawned as I sat up. He was reading on his tablet, a mug of coffee in his hand. “How long have you been awake?” I took the mug and sipped. Fortunately, we liked our coffee the same way.

“Not too long.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “How do you feel?”

“Pretty damned good,” I said.

And then my stomach rumbled, making him laugh.

“The class is in ninety minutes,” he said. “Let’s take our showers, go eat breakfast, and then figure out what’s next from there.”

“Sounds good.”

He took the mug from me, kissing me. “You go start the shower and I’ll make you a coffee so you don’t completely finish mine.”

I hesitated, meeting his gaze.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing. That this feels so… easy .”

He booped my nose. “Not everything has to be complicated, baby.”

“That hasn’t been my experience, unfortunately.”

I finally got moving and we ate breakfast. Delicious french toast for me, with strawberries and whipped cream on top. Then we headed upstairs to the classroom. By the time class started, the room was full with over thirty people. We had a mix of fellow students from people dressed in regular street clothes, like me and Vic, to people dressed in full fetish gear. There were several couples who appeared to be Bigs with their Littles, too.

The instructor introduced herself as Dr. Carol Barstowe. “Welcome, everyone. I’d like to start this class by saying that nobody, including myself, has a right to tell you that you’re doing something ‘wrong’ in your relationship, unless we’re talking about a safety issue…”

Dr. Barstowe was a clinical psychologist who apparently lived and practiced in Bozeman and was brought in regularly to teach. She called herself a Master and was married to her husband, who identified as her slave. As she explained their dynamic—and why she labeled herself a Master and not a Mistress—I found myself intently listening and absorbing her words. My only trouble with it was trying to keep myself in learning mode as Vic’s partner and not as a psychologist eager to delve deeper into the clinical aspects of it.

Three hours later, once the class ended, I had a far better understanding of kinky and nontraditional relationship dynamics than I had before…

But I still didn’t have concrete answers about me and Vic.

If anything, that now felt more confusing than before.

“What’d you think?” he asked as we headed downstairs.

“I think I’m glad we’re taking our time to do this right,” I said. I still worried that Vic’s need to have a submissive partner might be unfairly cast aside and eventually spell long-term disaster for us.

“I think you might be overthinking it again,” he said.

I stopped walking, pulling him to a stop with me, and turned to face him. “I think we need to overthink it, don’t we?”

He cupped my hands in his. “Baby, I love you. And like you heard in there, some Dominants need a strict level of control. But that’s not me. I need to be the lead dog, yes, absolutely. I own that. And I don’t want to turn you into a 1950 s housewife who does nothing but cook and clean and bend over or drop to your knees any time I demand it.

“But I do want to be in charge. Big stuff we decide together, but I get the final say. I want to be the one who does the worrying for both of us and shoulders those burdens. Does that make sense?”

I studied his gaze for a long moment. “I guess.”

We resumed our walk.

Vic glanced at his watch. “I should call Leo and check in.”

My stomach rolled a little. “I really don’t want to hear details about what’s going on,” I admitted. If I was getting a break from the world, I wanted a break from the world, including from any grim updates.

He leaned in and kissed me. “Why don’t you go explore for a while? We can do lunch after.”

“I would like to see the arcade.”

He smiled. “Then I won’t hurry down after my phone call. I could use a little, eh, private bathroom time and I don’t want to gas you out of the room. You’re welcome.”

I giggled. “Thank you. Greatly appreciated.”

He sent me along with a playful pat on my ass and I headed downstairs. I took the long way so I didn’t have to pass the Dungeon.

I… wanted to do more there, play there, but I wasn’t ready to go in there by myself.

I wasn’t afraid because I knew it was perfectly safe.

But that was something I wanted to experience with Vic, not alone. If I wanted alone I could watch porn on FetLife.

In the arcade and play area were several Littles, girls and boys, happily romping around. A woman in a dark green short-sleeved pullover shirt with the Ranch’s logo embroidered on the left chest sat watchfully monitoring the Littles, but not interfering.

I walked in and immediately kicked off my sandals, tucking them into one of the cubbies.

“ Can I talk to them? ” Having already seen staffers frequently use ASL to communicate, and not wanting to disturb the Littles currently playing in case the answer was no , I signed the question to the woman.

To my pleasant surprise, she smiled and nodded, signing back. “ They’re having free time. Feel free to join the giggle. ”

I stumbled over that word until I remembered what the instructor had covered in class earlier, as well as what Derek told us in orientation. A “gaggle” of Littles here was referred to as a “giggle.”

I smiled and walked over to the largest ball pit, which currently seemed to hold all of their attention. A Little waiting her turn to climb in flashed me a smile.

“Hi there,” I said.

“Hi! My name’s Georgie,” she said. “What’s yours?”

“My name’s Daphine,” I said, hating the feel of it on my tongue.

The Little cocked her head at me. “You look like you don’t like that name.”

“Not really,” I admitted. I stared at the ball pit and wished I could just jump right in with the same abandon they enjoyed.

“Can we call you somethin’ else?” another Little called out from where she was about to jump into the ball pit. “If you don’t like your name?”

I shrugged. “Depends on the name, I suppose.”

“Are you a Little?” Georgie asked.

“No, I’m not,” I said. “My… Sir and I are still figuring out what, exactly, I am.”

“How ’bout Miss DeeDee?” Georgie asked.

A chorus of cheers echoed through the giggle and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I like that,” I said. “Miss DeeDee it is.”

“You comin’ in?” Georgie asked as she moved toward the ball pit.

“Am I allowed to even though I’m not a Little?”

“If you’re just here to play an’ not be bossy, yeah! Anyone can play as long as they play nice.” She jumped in and disappeared below the colorful sea of balls before emerging, laughing. “Come on in!”

More calls echoed among the giggle, urging me to jump in. After looking back to the woman in charge, who smiled and gave me an encouraging nod, I climbed up and jumped in.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself engaged in a playful chase through the jungle gym sets, an informal game of tag that had everyone laughing.

I finally tapped out and retreated to the far side of the room to collapse and rest by the shoe cubby. I thought I was in shape but they had me beat.

The woman in charge walked over, smiling. “Have fun?”

“Yeah. I see why that’s a blast. Thanks for letting me join in.”

“Except in certain circumstances, as long as everyone’s playing as an equal—unless they’re in a relationship with that person—anyone can play. Even Tops need to let off some steam and laugh.”

“I have a hard time picturing Derek”–something suddenly occurred to me—“or do I have to call him Master Derek?”

“I heard you state you’re not a Little, but also heard you refer to your partner as Sir, so may I ask if you’re a submissive?”

I considered it. “Like I said, that’s what we’re here to figure out.”

She smiled, no judgment in her tone or expression. “While in your situation Master Derek wouldn’t kick you out over it, around here the default protocol is for Littles, service and other submissives who live here under his protection, and even some staff to use the honorific out of respect. As long as you and your partner are okay with you using that title for him, of course. If not, then it would be you or your partner’s responsibility to address that directly with Master Derek, should it become a problem. That’s simply a matter of respecting the protocols here and having clear communication with Master Derek. You calling him ‘Master’ in this particular situation is the same as someone using a title like ‘reverend’ or ‘doctor’. If you use the title ‘Master’ with him, he doesn’t assume you are in a dynamic with him, or that he could—or will—randomly order you around outside of any circumstance other than as his role as owner of the Ranch. Does that make sense?”

Well, of course that analogy made perfect sense to me. Duh.

Not that I was supposed to—or could—tell her why it made perfect sense to me. “Yes, that makes sense. Thank you for explaining…” I paused, my attention drawn to the giggle as another round of cheers erupted. Looking back to the monitor, I grinned. “I still can’t picture Master Derek swimming in a ball pit.”

She shrugged. “This is a sanctuary in more ways than one. We don’t judge, as long as people obey the rules and are respectful of and courteous to others. There’s no law that says a Top can’t play on a jungle gym just for the fun of it and not because they’re playing with their Little.”

I wondered if Vic would want to take a turn running around in here and had a feeling I’d get a quip from him about already surviving the Quantico obstacle training course.

I wished I could plop on my professional hat for a few minutes and have a more in-depth discussion with the woman about the psychology behind this, but the door opened and Vic walked in.

I pulled on my shoes and stood. “Thank you,” I said to the woman. “I appreciate your time.”

“No problem.”

Vic surveyed the play area. “You look like you had fun.”

“I did?—”

“Bye, Miss DeeDee!” a chorus erupted from various places in the room.

I waved. “Good-bye!” I headed to the door.

“Miss DeeDee?” Vic asked once the door swung shut behind us. Amusement colored his tone. “Did you go Top on me without warning?”

“No. They asked me my name and could tell I didn’t like it, so they suggested they call me Miss DeeDee.”

“Ah.”

“How was the call?” I asked.

He glanced around to ensure we were alone as we headed toward the exit and the elevator to return upstairs.

“Everything’s copacetic,” he said. “We’re still good.”

“So what’s next?” I asked. It was a little too soon for lunch.

“Whatever we do,” he said, “let’s give it another fifteen to twenty minutes to let the fart fan clear the air in the room.”

I…

Well, I howled.