Mistress's Master: Men in Blue, Book 3 (2 page)

No, what he’d have to let her do to him.

Jeremy reached for his wine and drained all but a few sips. Then he held the glass toward the abused woman. She licked her lips, staring at him from lowered lids as though wondering if it were a trick. He wrapped his fingers gently around the nape of her neck then tilted the glass until she had no choice other than to swallow or wear the burgundy liquid on her bruised, naked skin.

She gulped the remaining alcohol. Considering the outline of her ribs, which fluttered beneath the force of her rapid, shallow respiration, he figured it wouldn’t take much to numb her.

Hang on. You’re tough. You’ve lasted so long. Just a little more. I promise.

Jeremy prayed she could read a smidge of his encouragement in his gaze.

He tried to place her from the mile-long list of women who’d gone missing in the past six months. The task force suspected hundreds, if not more, had been destroyed by The Scientist, his drug and the slavery ring flushing the operation’s human byproducts.

Jeremy’s gut cramped.

The woman shuffled closer on her knees, resting her head on his thigh with a sigh. Her fingers squeezed his left ankle, out of sight of the man who’d stolen her pride.

“Son of a bitch.” Tony growled when he noticed her compliance. “I suppose my hard work finally paid off. Six months of delicious rebellion then utter disinterest and
now
she decides to behave.”

“Too late.” Jeremy would tear the place apart to keep her from returning to Tony’s clutches. “She belongs to me.”

The ominous tone of his warning did the trick. Tony flushed. Jeremy couldn’t say if it was because of the heat building in the dungeon, fury over losing in general or embarrassment for underestimating the true worth of his
toy
.

“Plenty more where that one came from.” Tony swiped his finger over the screen of his smartphone, jabbing more harshly than required to communicate. In less than thirty seconds, a burly man delivered a new slave to take the first’s place.

She would suffer for the damage Jeremy had wrought tonight.
Fuck!

No matter how many scenarios flashed through his mind, none allowed him to save both women or the steady stream of innocents who would fill in their places. Like a man digging out of a sand pit with his bare hands, every scoop led to more grains tumbling into the void left behind by those evacuated.

“When is the sale?” Jeremy absently petted the woman trembling against his leg, trying to infuse a glimmer of warmth or reassurance into the gesture as best he could considering the circumstances. He imagined her dressed, well fed, happy. She might have been lovely not so long ago, though it probably seemed like a million lifetimes to her.

“Sunday. If we start early we might finish by midnight. We like to display and test the goods appropriately before opening the bidding. Some end up damaged. The best ones command top dollar. Satisfaction guaranteed.” Tony unbuttoned his designer slacks then ripped apart the zipper. He yanked the new arrival toward him. When she refused to comply with his obvious intent, he gouged the tender hinge of her jaw until tears overflowed and streaked her cheeks.

Her lips parted.

The terrified woman between Jeremy’s knees quaked. He angled her face so she didn’t have to watch the torment of her replacement.

Tony withdrew an oral spreader from his pocket and inserted it in his slave’s mouth, preventing her from snapping her teeth closed. His flawless execution, despite his victim’s struggles, spoke of practice.

For an instant, Jeremy doubted he had the willpower to continue his charade despite the long-term benefits. He shifted in his seat, edging toward the heinous trampling of the slave’s rights. The woman sheltered between his legs increased the pressure of her grip on his ankle, her torn fingernails creating crescent impressions on his skin.

He glanced down at her and nodded subtly. If he acted, he’d doom them all.

Tony fastened the gag’s straps tight behind his captive’s head. He depressed the lever on the side of the metal contraption lodged in the woman’s mouth. A grotesque click accompanied every ratcheting of the device until her mouth gaped open. Tony tangled her hair in his fist. He used the painful grip to position her face in his crotch. The devil inserted his unimpressive yet erect cock between her spread lips and ground her forward until her nose pressed to his abdomen. He didn’t stop when she gagged.

Jeremy willed his gaze from the horror. If he witnessed a single millisecond more he’d fly across the gap separating them and beat Tony to a pulp. He’d destroy the immoral fuckwad and blow every opportunity they’d crafted to save
all
the people in danger, instead of just one or two.

It ranked in the top three most difficult moments of his life along with watching Izzy take a bullet and…

He shivered.

“If you’re interested, I could arrange an interview for you at my estate. Some simple questions, appropriate background checks, the usual. Mistress Lily will be joining us for the first time as well. She’s agreed to work for my institute, where we can put her skills to better use.” Tony spoke as though he weren’t violating the woman before him—as though his transgressions didn’t matter.

Jeremy trembled with barely suppressed rage. His fingers squeezed the seat cushion until the woman cradled between his legs covered his hands with hers and urged him to relax. She understood. Her courage humbled him. He rotated his palms until she could lay hers on top, bonding them in that instant.

Neither one could escape. Both would sacrifice to survive and continue the fight.

“I’m not sure I’m in the market for any additions. But, maybe… There isn’t much else to do around here on a Sunday afternoon.” Acid seared Jeremy’s esophagus as he spun a web of lies. Though some universal truths held constant. “Mistress Lily
is
spectacular. I’d enjoy watching her work…unhindered.”

“I can’t fucking wait.” Tony grunted. “So many possibilities. I intend to test her commitment to our cause. And if she fails to please, we can always take out our disappointment on her.”

The world turned red.

The woman whose leash he held nuzzled her cheek against his knee, breaking him from the fury threatening to overpower his common sense. He clamped his eyes closed and fought the urge to go ballistic.

Jeremy ignored the slick smacks and plaintive whimpers zinging from the seat beside him. He opened his eyes and stared straight ahead—into a compassionate face. Lily only held his gaze for a moment. The brief contact settled him enough to continue.

He took a slow, shaky, gigantic breath.

Lily proceeded with her welcome manipulation of the man on display. His begging for more contrasted sharply with the protests of Tony’s victim.

“Watch me,” she commanded. Her subs probably hadn’t blinked all evening. They hadn’t been the true object of her orders.

Jeremy focused on the action. While he’d been distracted, Lily had secured her volunteer to a contraption constructed of steel pipes welded into an unusual shape. It resembled a small-scale, ultra-ominous picnic table. The scaffolding supported her partner with padded benches, one each for his hands and knees to balance on. A series of long bars jutted up in the center—parallel to the floor—for the man to settle his torso on, converting his back into the tabletop.

Lily checked his bindings. When satisfied the cuffs at his ankles, knees, waist, elbows and wrists were secure yet safe, she guided the man’s head lower, pressing his Adam’s apple to a wide fur-lined steel semi-circle. Though he’d waited patiently for his previous bondage, he balked the instant his neck skimmed the rest.

Jeremy sympathized. Nothing quite matched the ultimate surrender of pressure on your windpipe. It could be terrifying or thrilling. Always extreme. The act was only suitable for the most skilled and knowledgeable of Doms. Or Dommes.

Lily bent low, whispering into the ear of her subject. She praised the man when he relaxed into her complete hold. She snapped a second semi-circle above the man’s neck, completing his generous restraint. Though his Mistress’s fist could easily have slipped inside the hoop ringing him, he could not withdraw his head.

“Thank you, Mistress.” He earned a pet along his flank and a press on the glowing marks lingering there. The tap transformed into a caress between his spread legs. Black latex, which gloved Lily’s porcelain hands, slipped across the man’s puckered asshole, on prominent display. When he attempted to rock deeper into her grasp, the cuffs stopped him short. His cock jerked beneath him and a dribble of pre-come landed on the padded bench that supported his knees.

“Clean that.” Her tone brooked no argument.

One of her assistants dropped to his knees behind the captive man and lapped the growing puddle from the leather pad. Lily cupped her trainee’s heavy balls before roaming along the length of his cock. She manipulated his erection, squeezing more proof of his arousal onto the cheek of the man below.

The helper reached for the sticky line. Lily halted him with a glare. “Did I instruct you to remove my present?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Ted, share with David.” She angled her chin at the third slave eagerly awaiting a chance to participate.

The two free men approached each other, eyeing their competition with such trepidation Jeremy would swear neither had a bisexual bone in his body. Still, they didn’t hesitate to obey Lily’s wish. She bent their inhibitions into taboo pleasure. Ted closed his eyes and tilted his head. David cupped Ted’s chin and the back of his skull in broad fingers. He steadied his target as he devoured another man’s come.

If their raging hard-ons, which tested the limits of their leather cock-and-ball harnesses, were any indication, neither one found the task distasteful.

“Very good.” Lily studied them up close then smiled.

Who wouldn’t be awed by her delight?

“I think you’ve all earned a reward. My pets are truly the best.”

The men grinned.

“Who would like to fuck?” Her innocent question should have advertised her wicked intent as clearly as an enormous neon sign on a highway diner at two in the morning. Neither man had enough blood left in his brain to anticipate the extent of her sadistic streak.

When David answered at the speed of light, edging out Ted, he doomed himself. “I would, Mistress.”

“Ah, perfect.” She tapped him on the cheek then spun toward her stash of equipment, leaving him standing in the open. “Use this.”

David’s shoulders dropped, his muscles flexing beneath the leather straps crisscrossing his broad back. He accepted the long pole. Similar to a broomstick, a large dildo capped the end in place of bristles. The fake cock had been encased in a condom and generously lubed.

“I…don’t understand.”

“Or choose not to do as I’ve asked?” Lily slapped his ass. The resulting crack made several people in the audience jump. Jeremy noted most had accessed their genitals by now, shoving skirts high, opening pants to stroke cocks, or removing breasts from leather bustiers to share the heightened sexuality Lily engineered. Several couples engaged in full intercourse, adding to the array of visual treats encouraging others to join the show.

Jeremy checked on Tony’s target. It annoyed him when relief flooded his veins. He shouldn’t accept the status quo. Still, he had no choice. Tony kept the woman close, refraining from fucking her helpless face. Probably afraid he’d erupt in half a second and ruin his fun.

Bastard.

Tension rippled through Jeremy’s body once more. The woman between his thighs—holy hell how had Lily made him forget her?—massaged his knotted muscles. He smiled then attempted to brush her fingers aside. No way would he force her to service him. It was bad enough he sported wood despite the atrocity nearby.

Fuck, it had been a lifetime since he mingled with like-minded friends, reveling in the surrender of a
willing
submissive. And Lily did things to him no woman had managed before.

His charge stared at him so long, Jeremy worried she might speak up. Then she reached forward, cupping the bulge his monster erection created in his leather pants.

No hiding there.

He stilled her hands, swallowing a groan when the extra pressure inspired plans other than retreat in his cock. Again, she slipped from his gentle hold to continue her expert handling. Jeremy swallowed bile when he thought of how she’d learned those skills.

Once more, he attempted to dislodge her. She gripped him tight enough to edge into discomfort. He couldn’t help it. The Dom inside him roared to life. He shot her an intense stare without thinking. Instead of cringing in fear, she winked.

He blinked. Twice.

Then he glanced up. Lily focused on Jeremy as she let awkward silence persuade her slave to grip the fuck pole she’d offered. Their gazes collided. She nodded almost imperceptibly.

Shit.
She wasn’t the only person stealing glimpses in his direction. If he sought a place in the ranks of Black Lily’s patrons, he had to prove his commitment to the pursuit of dark passion. This could be a golden opportunity.

He cupped the woman’s chin in his palm and nudged her face until she looked at him.

Be sure. Please. I won’t hurt you.

He had never prayed for psychic abilities before. The woman peeking up at him, with more life than he’d glimpsed in the short time he’d known her, hesitated.

Then she tucked her fingers in the waistband of his pants and ripped.

Chapter Two

Three quick snaps accompanied the unfastening of Jeremy’s pants. His cock sprang from its confines and thudded onto his taut belly. He hummed at the relieved pressure.

His instincts took control. They urged him to place his ass on the edge of his seat and sink low. He spread his legs wider, inviting the lady between his knees to attempt to please him or not, as she chose. She snuggled up to the trunk of his body and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. Her petite hand couldn’t quite encompass his full erection, but she did her best.

Tony nearly ruined the moment when he cheered, “Yeah, that’s right. Show her who’s boss.”