Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (55 page)

“You’re fucked, Cort. I’ll nev
er disobey my Master,” I vow. 

“Well, it won’t be disobeying Marc. It’ll be disobeying Pretty Boy. It was his checkmate on Marc. No way will you do
as he asks,” he says cockily. 

“You can’t
know that,” I say in denial. 

“Alright, if you agree make sure you have an icepack ready. She hits hard. My crotch was black-and-blue last time.”

“What?”

“Nope!
Come on, Regina. I’m horny,” he whines.

He hitches his pants showing off an impressive bulge. He laughs at my frightened expression.

“It’s time to put the scarf back on. I’m surprised that you convinced me to take it off of you,” he smirks at me. 

He ties it quickly, blocking out all available light. I like it a lot better than the burlap sack. At least my mouth and nose are uncovered.

I worry about walking through the club without sight, but Cort swings me up into his arms and strolls through an eerily silent club. It’s almost four in the morning. It sounds hollow and Cort’s steps echo loudly.
Beeps, clicks, and the opening and closing of doors, his footsteps: I concentrate on sounds so that my heart doesn’t beat out of my chest.

“You’ll be fine. He won’t do anything to you. This is a dominance challenge between our Master and our youngest Master. Both of them will never hurt you,” Cort promises.  

“I’ll never hurt her,” rings in unison, followed by an angry growl.

I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going o
n. Shouldn’t this be about me?

I’m set on my feet and I wait. The room feels vast. I can’t sense the walls or any furnishings. I can feel my hazers within arm’s reach around me. The air is humid, but cold. Every movement echoes proving that this is the dungeon I’ve never seen and it’s huge.

“Welcome, Masters. This night is of great importance. Our budding organization is growing. We induct our seventh Master and I’m pleased to say that we have two more being trained by me. I’m pleased to announce that we’ve grown from three men bullshitting to a large group. Starting Monday we’ll allow our patrons to apply for membership. Membership benefits are for the use of the dungeon and private rooms. This space will no longer be a place for you bring your prey. It will be alive and thriving. This will require greater responsibilities of you all. Ezra will set this up for us. Enough business! Let the fun begin. Strip!”

“What?” several shouts of outrage bellow, bitch, and complain. I stand frozen. He wasn’t speaking to me since I have a cable-tie holding my wrists behind my back.

“Don’t test me, children. Do as I say.” His voice is scary calm. I hear several articles of clothing drop on the floor.

“You won’t strip. Why should we?” Syn belligerently complains.

“You have no need for shame, little one,” Marc patronizes. “I wish I could strip and join the hedonistic fun, but someone has to remain in charge.”

A snip and my hands are freed. I rub
my wrists and sigh in relief.

“Thank you, Master,” I say in veneration.

“And you knew it was me, how?” he whispers in my ear. He brushes his lips against my neck and I relax.

“I’d recognize your scent anywhere,” I whisper under my breath. No one can know we’re lovers. It’s part of this deceptive game. And I finally understand he was pushing me away from my own good.

“And I, yours,” he breathes against my neck. 

He slowly divests me of my clothing. His fingers continuously linger on my exposed skin. I know the other Masters are watching. I can feel their
gazes burn into my flesh as his finger pass over my skin. My skin warms from Marc’s rapid breath.

I gather strength from an unknown source. I’m not frightened anymore or worried. They’ve already seen the show when they abducted me. My body trills with power. This is it- wild and freeing.

“You’ve slept with her?” Ezra accuses.

“No comment,” rumbles from Marc as I say, “Whoa,
Ezra. You seem to accuse me of fucking everyone. Last time it was Cort. You have some serious trust issues. And I’m more celibate than you are.”

“Sorry,” is mumbled in apology.

Cort huffs a laugh knowing I’m completely bullshitting. I didn’t lie. I just never answered the question. I smirk in his direction. He’s so damn bad. He fucks with us all and we love him for it. I wonder if Ezra would be mad that Cort is keeping so many secrets from him or would he shake his head and say, ‘it’s just Cortez.’ And follow it up with a shrug. Nah- he’d strangle him.

“This is Queen. Please greet her in order.” Marcus’ voice proudly floods the room.

I wait for handshakes.

I’m a moron.

I’m a huge moron.

Lips softly touch mine. It’s Dexter and he must be on his tippy-toes. I smir
k against his mouth and laugh.

“Hello, Dexter. It’s nice to see you. I hope you’re not sneering at me as you did the last we met.” My voice is friendly but it’s laced with annoyance.

“I apologize. I was having a bad day. You’ve kept Cort off my hands and I thank you for that. I nearly killed him mere minutes before I met you.” Dexter sounds properly cowed.

“Apology accepted. He’s an acquired taste, but I’m rather fond of it.” As I say it, I realize he’s one of my best friends. My voice rings with my fondness for the idiot. He’s an Asswipe, but he’s amazing. 

The next set of lips leaves me gasping. Ezra kisses me and I freak. There goes the sister-code. Shit!

“Queen, it’s alright. What happens at the dungeon doesn’t leave the dungeon. The only rules that apply are mine.” Marcus knows exactly what to say to me since he and Jamie were the ones to shoulder my burdens with Kristal.

The kiss returns and it’s intense. Ezra bites my bottom lips until I hiss. The instant my mouth opens on the hiss, his tongue dives in and tastes me. He pulls away and releases a hiss of his own.

“His mouth has b
een on yours,” he says in awe.

“Yes, we’ve kissed before.” I speak under my breath.

I don’t want anyone else to hear us, but it’s for naught. I can feel them hovering inches from me. I’m surrounded by a pack of lusty Masters.

“Have you had sex with him?” He growls angrily.

He presses his body to the length of mine. He grinds his erection into my belly. I freeze in shock. Where is the calm, sensible man that’s engaged to Ade? The man before me is more animal than man. His voice sounds different- deep and as smooth as glass. I feel like I could sip it and savor it as a fine whiskey. OH! I’m a moron.

“Master Ez?” My voice
lilts in an upward inflection.

“Yes, Queen,” he breathes against my lips and I can feel his sn
eer. “Did you sleep with him?”

“No, I’ve never had sex with Cort.” I shake my head and my voice i
s strong with truthful denial.

“I’m not speaking of him. Our Master, you’re his lover. I can feel it.”

“No,” I lie leaving absolutely no trace.

“You lie,” he accuses. “His taste is in your mouth and not the kind from his tongue,” he enunciates the word tongue and arches a blond brown abov
e his stormy, pissed off eye. 

“How would you know his taste? Are you a connoisseur of semen?” I don’t deny it, but I turn it back around on him. What has Ezra been up to?

“You lie. This explains much. Welcome to the family, Regina Regal.” I freeze when he says my name. My heart pounds and my blood rushes to meet its beat. I start to gasp for air.

“I didn’t recognize you at Restraint when you were dressed as you were. But when I came to the Brownstone you were dressed in jeans. I recognized you immediately,” he proclaims. 

He leans deeper into me and kisses me roughly. His warm, testicles press against my mound and I whimper. Master Ez is fucking scary.

“Tell my fiancée that time is ticking. Less than a year and she will be here. Tick-tock… Tick-tock,” he threatens in a sing-song cadence.

His body leaves me cold in more ways than one. I’m flushed with fright and a creepy lust that comes out of nowhere.

I relax because I know who’s up next. I patiently wait for Cort’s lips when a set of small hands frame my hips as she struggles to h
er tip-toes to reach my mouth.

“Syn, do you wish to kiss me on the mouth or would you prefer something else. I’d suggest a hug, but we’re both kind of naked,” I sound shy from embarrassment. 

“May I have your ear, please?” Her voice is soft, barely projecting. 

“Okay,” I draw out as I bend at the waist.

“Why are they saying you’re a lesbian? I know you’re not,” she accuses.

“You know
nothing,” I bite back at her.

“Regina, you love cock more than I do. I’d rather hurt things than fuck them,” she says with a st
range feminist sort of pride. 

“How do you know my name?” I w
hisper argue in her direction.

Instead of answering me, her hot, moist lips kiss my cheek and she hugs me even though we’re naked. Her body is small, compact, and curvy.
Her high, round breasts press into my belly. I turn my cheek at the same time that she offers me hers. I can’t see and I end up kissing the corner of her mouth. She makes an impatient sound and walks away.

“Nice to meet you, too, Syn,” I mumble after her.

“She has a terminal condition otherwise known as being a bitchy cunt. If you let her spank you you’ll have a new best friend.” Cort snickers.

“Her terminal condition was brought on by too much Cortez Aberna
thy exposure,” I say snarkily.

“I believe that she
’d agree with that,” he muses.

“Fuck you, Cortez,” the smoky voice sneers at him. “No, get fucked!”

“If yours was the last cunt on earth I’d get Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, Syn.” He says her name in a way that makes you want to punch him in the nuts. His art is antagonism.

“Lest you forget, I’ve fucked that used up pussy of yours hundreds of times. I wasn’t impressed. You, on the other hand, always screamed for me. Thanks for teaching me everything I ever needed to know about pussies.” He smirks evilly and snickers.

“That’s enough!” Marc’ voice projects and I can hear struggling.

“Behave,” I say and reach for the bastard.

“After you see her, you’ll never let me name call her again. It’s so unfair. I have notebooks filled with insults,” he whines.

“Are you going to greet me or are we going to be standing here when Restraint opens in the evening?” I try to pop an eyebrow but the scar
f on my eyes impedes my snark.

I expect him to inhale my mouth. He starts gently. Only his lips touching mine. Our tall bodies are more than a foot a part. I can’t even feel his body heat. As we build into the kiss he begins to draw closer
until we’re perfectly aligned.

I don’t mean to make a sound, but I can’t help the moan that bubbles up my throat and spills from my mouth. He r
eturns it with one of his own.

Warm, strong fingers grip my ass and lift. My choice is to wrap my legs around his hips or feel his struggle to hold me inches off the ground. My legs hook around his waist and my arms around his shoulders. His length slips between my thighs and seats itself snugly against my slit.

We attack one another. For almost two years we were subjected to training without release. We flogged, spanked, restrained, and done humiliating acts to one another every other day and never did we get this pleasure. Our long denied bodies go on auto-pilot as we moan and groan and grind our bodies on each other. It isn’t about love or affection. It’s not about friendship- it’s pure lust. I didn’t think he wanted me, I was wrong.

“Master, stop them!” A deep
, authoritative voice bellows.

“Why? She’ll fuck him before the night is through. She’ll fuck all of you.”
Masters voice sounds hopeless.

“How can you do this?” Pretty Boy sounds very upset. “How can you watch?”

“You have a choice to make. We can eat pizza and get drunk. The winner of cards can pick their victim. Or you can watch her fuck everyone in this room not knowing if you’ll get the chance. Think steadfastly and wisely, young man. Do you wish to see her as a whore? You’ve placed her on a pedestal. She would gladly fuck Cortez. I’ve ignored it. I was worried it would bother me, but I rather like the look of them pressed together. They look very pleased with themselves and very aroused,” Marc says arrogantly, baiting the unknown Master nicknamed Pretty Boy. 

Marcus sounds calm and amused, but even blindfolded I know he’s setting the only trap he has left at his disposal. Who is this Master?

“Don’t call her a whore, Marcus. You’ll regret it,” he threatens.

“Oh, I’m not,” he says snidely. “I’m not a Whittenhower. I don’t see her as a disposable whore that you fuck and hide behind closed doors.” I
suck in a breath as he unleashes my dirty secret.

“Take that back!”
Pretty Boy’s calm demeanor snaps and he lashes out viciously.