Stray (12 page)

“Is that what happened the night we met at the club?”

“Yes. Her body was very relaxed, and being the Dom that I am, I decided to let her stay in subspace a while longer. Don’t get me wrong, she loved every minute of it. It just took a while to bring her back out of it.”

“So you’re basically doing all of this to avoid that with me.” It wasn’t a question. And even though my experiences with other Doms had been limited, the care Dylan took with Marnie, as well as myself, was hard to ignore.

“Along with your tells, yes.”

I cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m listening to your voice now, but later, when you’re bound and as far into subspace as I’ll let you go, I’ll have to rely on your body language to tell me if and when I’ve pushed you too far. We’ve spoken about boundaries before, and I’m hoping to push some of those tonight. Hopefully without having any of them push back.”

“Do boundaries push back?”

“They can, if you don’t know what you’re doing. And even if you do, things such as flashbacks and other triggers can still happen. I plan to take every precaution possible to keep anything like that from happening, but I cannot promise it won’t. What you went through with Anthony was a hell I’d never wish on my worst enemy. And even though you’re in a better place now, assholes like that can still mess with your mind. With or without your permission.”

“So I’ve noticed.” I shook my head when Dylan looked at me. “Not recently, but I know what you mean.” I’d had more than enough nightmares to last a lifetime.

“Will you be okay tonight?” His voice was sincere.

“Hey, I’m not the one that’s been dragging my feet on this,” I teased, smiling when he hugged me to his chest.

“Just you wait. All this backtalk you’ve been doing? It’s about time I took care of your tab.”

“My tab?”

He leaned in to whisper against my ear. “I’m going to flog you so far into subspace you’ll be dripping wet by the time I’m through with you.”

I shuddered and collapsed in his arms. “I look forward to it.”

Chapter Twelve

The day absolutely crawled after that. All I could think about was Dylan’s last comment.
Dripping wet? What the hell does that mean, anyway?
I’d heard about subs sweating from being flogged, but I’d also heard of some who got incredibly wet in a different way. My clit throbbed at the thought of that, and I hoped that, at least in my case, it was the latter.

Standing in front of the door to Dylan’s dungeon, I counted down the minutes, the seconds it took for him to set it up the way he wanted. I’d been standing in the hall for what felt like an hour or more, and I flinched anytime I heard something move at the bottom of the steps.

Something screeched.

Banged.

Chains jingled.

Dylan coughed.

Marnie came to stand beside me, lacing her fingers with mine. “Nervous?”

I swallowed. “A little. What’s he doing down there, anyway?”

Marnie threw me a smile. “He likes to set things up just right. He moves a lot of stuff around. Well, except for the Saint Andrew’s cross since it’s pretty much grounded into the floor. He says changing it up keeps things fresh.”

“How fresh could it be? I thought I’d seen everything when I went down there.”

“Most of the walls can be moved around. He keeps a lot of the equipment hidden behind them.”

I shook my head, amazed at how much attention he put into his dungeon and his subs. A complete one-eighty from Anthony.
From anyone else for that matter.
The guys I’d dated in the past had rarely made an effort as far as a romantic evening was concerned. Dylan wasn’t one of those guys.

I stiffened when I heard Dylan’s shoes hitting the stairs. Marnie squeezed my hand but didn’t let go. Once Dylan opened the door, his face was red, beads of sweat covering most of his brow.

“You ready?” he asked, leaning over to catch his breath.

I glanced at Marnie. “Does he always look like this before a scene?”

She smiled.

“It’s a warm-up,” Dylan said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just need to catch my breath is all.” He leaned against the doorframe and nodded to Marnie. “There’s been a change of plans.”

Now it was Marnie’s turn to tense up. Neither one of us spoke, wondering what else Dylan could possibly want to do before going down into the dungeon.

“Marnie, you’re going to watch.”

“Wait…what?” I looked between the two of them, my cheeks burning. “You want her to watch you flog me?”

He nodded. “If I’m going to take you to other scenes outside my dungeon, we need to make sure you’re comfortable with watching and being watched by someone other than me. This is a part of your training.”

I licked at my lips. “Marnie, did you know about this?”

She shook her head. “He has me watch sometimes, but he didn’t tell me before now.”

“And if I don’t want to be watched?”

“No scene,” Dylan said, his voice terse. “This is something you need to do. I told you I was going to push your boundaries tonight. This is just one of them.”

“What will she see?”
Will she see my scars?

“As much as I’ll allow.” He cleared his throat, and Marnie let go of my hand. “If you want to back out now, that’s fine. But once we’re downstairs, we go by my rules and what I feel you can handle. Is that clear?”

Marnie and I bowed our heads. “Yes, Master.”

“Then follow me.”

Marnie waited until I was through the door before following behind me. The steps felt steeper than usual, and I held on to the railing for balance. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I wondered if Marnie was just as nervous about this as I was. I knew Dylan was only trying to help. I’d known that at some point he was going to share me with other Doms. What I hadn’t expected was for him to turn me into an exhibitionist inside his own home.

A total stranger or a nameless Dom watching me? I could handle that. Marnie watching me? Someone I had to see every day? Not so much. Especially when it came to awkward silences after the fact.
So much for a flawless, sisterly relationship.

I stopped as soon as I reached the last step. My vision swept from one side of the room to the other. Had the dungeon got larger?

On the wall to my right was the same rack of floggers I’d seen before, their sizes ranging from small to very large—the largest one had tails that were half as long as my back. There were also a few canes resting against the wall, two paddles and a loose pair of cuffs.

In the centre of the far wall was the Saint Andrew’s cross, a vertical X with chains and cuffs attached at each end—one restraint for each of my ankles and wrists. I trembled as I took a step forward, checking the other side of the room, which I decided to call the cool down area.

There was a mattress lying on the ground, a fresh sheet fitted over it, along with the robe Dylan had used on me and a pile of fuzzy blankets at the foot of it. In addition to the bed, there was also a cooler—which I assumed was for water—a side table, a bowl of water, cloths, the cream he’d used on me earlier and a handful of bandages.

I watched silently as Dylan and Marnie moved more materials into the centre of the room—a table to hold Dylan’s supplies, rope, scissors, a ball gag and finally, a blindfold. Aside from what was on the table, there was also a purple tapestry hanging on the wall behind the Saint Andrew’s cross, with Celtic knots sewn into it.

“If you’re done admiring,” came Dylan’s voice as he positioned himself beside his table of supplies, “I’d like you to come over and join me.”

Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I took a step towards him. Another. Then another. Marnie drifted over to a chair that was sitting beside the wall. She sat down, silent as a mouse as I went to stand beside Dylan. Taking a deep breath, I averted my eyes, bowed my head and locked my hands behind my back.

“Tell me your safe words,” Dylan instructed, his voice hovering somewhere above me.

“Yellow if I want to slow down. Red if I need to stop, Master.” It was one answer I couldn’t get wrong. Ever since he’d told me about safe words, I’d been more than willing to use them. I just hadn’t needed them yet.
You will tonight.
Just knowing Marnie was watching put me on edge.

“Go over to the rack of floggers and pick one out. I don’t know what’s been used on you before, so you’ll have to decide which one you’d like me to use first.”

I nodded and made my way over to the rack. I picked up a dark leather flogger, letting the tails fall into my palm before putting it back. The leather was rough, which promised a good bite on my skin. I moved down the line, picking up one that was made out of rubber. After hitting the tails against the back of my hand, I put that one back as well.

I finally focused on a tanned flogger, the tails soft between my fingers while still having a bit of a bite when I hit them on my skin. It was light. Easy to control. With the flogger in my possession, I returned to Dylan’s side, then passed it over to him when he asked for it.

“Deerskin,” he said, letting the tails flow over his palm. “Same as Marnie.” He smiled and set the flogger on the table. “Take off your clothes.”

Trying to ignore the fact Marnie was still in the room with us, I took off my gown along with my underwear, shivering from the exposure. Dylan’s hands rested on either of my shoulders, silently instructing me to straighten my posture. Like a lump of clay, I moulded into whatever form he wanted, following his gentle taps and a push against my back until I was standing straight up with my legs spread far apart.

Dylan slowly removed the bandages on the back of my neck, my shoulder and hips, tossing them to the ground. Something shuffled behind us, which I could only guess was Marnie cleaning up the discarded items. I sucked in a breath when Dylan held on to my shoulder, his other hand resting between my legs.

He placed his fingers on my clit. They glided down to my pussy lips. He growled against my ear.

“Look at that. I haven’t even flogged you, and you’re already wet.” He slipped two fingers inside me before withdrawing them moments later. “Walk up to the cross and face it.”

The bed off to my left seemed even more inviting now. I paused, staring at it.

“I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?” He was right behind me.

“No, Master.”

“Good girl. Now, off you go.”

Dylan took a few steps back, leaving me to stand naked in the middle of the room. Steeling myself, I made my way over to the cross, keeping my head bowed when I stopped in front of it. Someone stepped behind me, whom I could only guess was Dylan. He lifted one of my arms, then brought the cuff down to wrap it around my wrist.

He squeezed my fingertips. “Not too tight?”

“No, Master.”

He moved on to my other hand, treating it in the same way. “Too tight?”

“No, Master.”

“You can relax your arms.”

I sucked in a breath and let my arms fall as far as the restraints would allow. It wasn’t much, just enough room for me to pull away from the cross if I had the need to do so. Dylan slid his hands down my leg, cuffing my ankle before gesturing for me to lift my foot. Apparently satisfied with my mobility, he finished restraining the other one.

“Are you comfortable?”

As comfortable as I can be while tied to a cross.
“Yes, Master.”

He ran his hands down my sides. “Take a deep breath for me.” I did, then coughed when I exhaled. “Do it again.” Inhale. Exhale. “Keep doing that. Nice, even breaths. It will help you relax. You’ll be more alert. I need you to stay alert, understand?”

He needed me to stay out of subspace. “Yes, Master.”

“Lift your head, but keep your eyes closed.”

I stood up straight, flinching when something wrapped around the front of my face.

“Remember to breathe,” Dylan said, tying the blindfold behind my head. “Can you see anything?”

I lifted my head to look up at the light hanging from the ceiling. I could see specks of light, but nothing else. “No, Master.”

“Good. You can relax now.”

Bowing my head again, I let my bindings hold me up. One of the cuffs bit at my wrist, and I adjusted my arm, holding on to the chain.

“You okay?”

“Yes, Master.”

There was a
whoosh,
followed by a very soft
crack
—Dylan hitting the flogger on one of his hands. He did it again, harder this time, the crack vibrating off the surrounding walls.
Whoosh. Crack.
I flinched, pulling at the chains.

Whoosh. Crack.
I straightened my posture, holding on to the chains for balance.

Whoosh.
There was a breeze on my back. Soft tails gliding across one side of it. Barely there. Still enough to make me jump. The flogger came down again, harder than before, the tails stinging my skin. I bit at my bottom lip to soften my cry of surprise.

The tails came down again, this time on my other bare shoulder, the one with the scars Anthony had given to me. I winced, expecting even more pain, but it was just as gentle as before. Dylan kept the rhythm, hitting one side of my back, then the other, avoiding my spine and kidneys.

The longer he used the flogger, the warmer my skin became. And the more I listened to it, the more I started to drift away. My head fell back, my body held up by the cross. My knees wobbled, and I struggled to stay alert.

Inhale.

Whoosh.

Exhale.

Crack.

Inhale. Exhale. The flogger came down again. I winced, but it didn’t touch my skin. Something was coiled around my mind, numbing my nerves. It almost felt as if I were falling, but the cuffs were still around my wrists.
Stay alert,
I reminded myself, almost begging my body to jump. To force me awake. But the harder I tried to hold on to Dylan’s strikes, the more I fell away. Completely separated from my body.

I could hear the flogger, feel its tails, but there wasn’t any pain. Just cool air. A soft whisper against warm skin.

“Alyssa, are you drifting?”