Read Without a Net Online

Authors: Lyn Gala

Tags: #BDSM; LGBT; Suspense

Without a Net (5 page)

BOOK: Without a Net
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“Look what I found, boss. He came in looking for a job.” Buck pulled Ollie’s hands up and hooked the chain behind Ollie’s neck, which exposed his whole chest. “Isn’t he pretty?”

The boss leaned back in his chair. “And how long has he been out there?”

“Awhile.” Buck sounded overly nonchalant. He pulled on the wrist chain, and since Ollie’s hands were already behind his neck, that forced his hands down his back. The awkward angle pushed Ollie’s chest out. “I thought you’d like him.”

“Yes, but what rule did I give you?”

“Maybe I don’t remember.”

“Really?” The boss sounded so mild, but a shiver went through Buck. “There’s punishment, and then there’s making you fucking miserable, so try that again, boy.”

“I am not supposed to let applicants come in when you’re not here.”

“That’s right. You aren’t. So tell me what time you put him up there, because you’re getting ten lashes for every hour.”

“Around four or so,” Buck said. Technically that was a lie, because at four Ollie had been getting briefed by the lieutenant. He hadn’t been briefed well, but he was there until almost five. That was when he’d come in.

“Four hours, forty lashes. When you fuck up, you do it right. And just to make sure you remember your place, you’ll be in the pillory one hour for each hour you left the boy out there.”

Buck got very still. “Master, it was after five. I thought I’d test him out for you.”

“Lying, that adds ten lashes and another hour in the pillory.”

“Master!” Buck cried out.

The boss brought his hand down on the desk, and Ollie jumped. “One more word out of line, and you’ll spend a week in the pillory and my profits will go up as every man you’ve ever punished has time to get here and teach you a lesson. Clear?”

“Yes, Master,” Buck agreed, and he was much quieter now. Ollie knew plenty of switches, but Buck had made an art form out of it because all his dominant energy was gone.

“What’s his name?”

Since Ollie was still gagged, Buck answered for him, his voice soft and polite. “Olan Roberts, sir.”

“Background?”

“Career military, a sergeant busted back to corporal and discharged for dealing in sun.”

“Well, that was a serious fuckup,” Allemande said.

Ollie couldn’t respond because Buck held him as firmly as ever. This panic switch was seeming less and less viable, not unless Ollie could get it moved to somewhere like the back of his hand or the inside of his forearm where he could reach it easier.

“Anything after that?”

“A series of jobs. He stopped paying taxes two years ago and dropped out of some tech school last year. I’d have to look up the name of it again, Master.”

“Don’t bother,” Allemande said. “How did he react to your inappropriate manhandling?”

“He was hard as hell earlier, Master. And he didn’t object to the pain or ask to leave when I took him off the wall, Master.”

“And I could have had the pleasure of seeing him hard had you not disobeyed orders.”

Buck flinched.

“Well, the damage is done now. Bring him along. He deserves to see you punished since he’s the one who’s suffered.”

“Yes, Master,” Buck said softly.

Allemande stood and headed out the door. Buck shoved Ollie, and he followed. Buck kept a tight hold on the wrist chain so Ollie’s arms were forced up over his head behind his back.

“Someone’s in trouble,” one of the lucky ungagged female servers said in a whispered singsong.

Buck kept moving and kept shoving Ollie in front. The second the doors to the club opened, Ollie was hit with a wall of sound. Moans and cries competed with the crack of whips, and the
chink
of glass found in every bar.

The kitchen door was close to the side with the bondage horses, and a woman was riding one. Her ankles were tied to her thighs and her wrists behind her back so she had no leverage to push herself off the cruel edge. She was screaming into a gag—Ollie could tell from the vivid shade of red on her face. However, the man standing next to her kept her on the horse with a hand around her waist. No matter how much she strained and sweat and screamed, she was stuck there until he let her off…or until she died. Ollie had worked a case where that had been the outcome.

Allemande walked up the stairs to the main stage, and the lights shifted. The floor grew darker, and two soft spotlights highlighted him. A server dressed a lot like Ollie walked out from the back and offered Allemande a microphone.

“Doms and Dommes and dominants in between, I have a show for you tonight. Unplanned. Unannounced. This is the sort of special that you all come here hoping for, and I aim to please.”

The room grew quieter.

“But first, I have an introduction. Buck, bring up the new meat.”

Buck gave Ollie a push, and Ollie went up the stairs. Now he was nervous. He had too many eyes on him. Ollie liked being controlled enough that he could fake an interest in most of the things that went on in this place, at least if he blocked off that part of his mind that worried about consent. However, he did not like having an audience.

“I think he’s shy, folks,” Allemande said when Ollie reached the top. Ollie’s cock was making a run at disappearing. Allemande walked behind Ollie and gave a good yank on the metal cord that led to the back of the belt. That made all the chain mail dig into Ollie’s private parts. He screamed and went up onto his toes. A thin line of spittle escaped the side of his mouth, and there was no way for him to wipe it away.

Allemande laughed. “It seems like our boy is too nervous to give us a show. He’s a little scared, so I leave it up to you. Is Sunshine here our newest employee?”

Sunshine. Of course they gave Ollie a nickname that referred to his fictional past as a sun dealer. He saw long months of teasing open up in front of him. While he thought about that, the crowd hollered. Clearly they approved of the name, and no one was asking Ollie.

Allemande walked around and looked Ollie in the face. “So, are you taking the job, Sunshine?”

Ollie nodded, and the crowd gave another cheer. As soon as he was sent out to take drink orders, Ollie was going to be fucking mauled.

Allemande smiled at him. “Good boy.” He turned to face the backstage area. “Fairy, I need the two-level pillory, and put the bench on the lower level.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but then the servers were mostly gagged, so maybe he knew he wouldn’t get one. Ollie watched while a young man in a server’s costume went to his knees in front of a customer and sucked the man’s dick. That was completely illegal. This was registered as a control club, not a sex club, but no one took any note while the customer face fucked the guy.

“Now for the show,” Allemande said. “It seems that our server Sunshine came in here either three or four hours ago. Our own Buck trussed him up against direct orders. What happens to subs who don’t follow orders?”

A number of the crowd chanted, “Worm. Worm. Worm.”

Ollie’s eyes got big. He couldn’t imagine Buck being on the floor in that outfit, but clearly the audience could. Buck was still behind Ollie, and he moved closer so their bodies pressed together. He was trembling, and Ollie wanted to stop this. He wanted to point out that this had gone beyond games and Buck was genuinely afraid.

“Do you hear that, slave?”

“Yes, Master,” Buck said quietly.

“I didn’t hear that, slave.” Allemande put the microphone right in front of Buck’s mouth.

“Yes, Master,” Buck said again, and now it was amplified across the room. A cheer went up.

“Well, then, here is my promise to all my faithful customers. The next time Buck disobeys, he’ll be our Worm for the night, and we all know that Buck will disobey, right?”

From the crowd’s whoops and catcalls, it was obvious they did know that. Two slaves were pushing a long and heavy piece of equipment out from the back. Allemande stepped to the side and let them set it up and lock it into place in the center of the stage.

“Now, this is our Sunshine’s first experience, so I think Buck will happily explain the process to him. Won’t you, slave?”

Allemande held the microphone toward Buck. “Yes, Master.”

“And if you don’t explain well, then that counts as disobeying me. Do it, and I’ll have you taken from the pillory straight back to be outfitted as our new Worm. Clear?”

The crowd was turning dark. Men were pressing forward, and the sense of danger slid across Ollie’s skin. The Dommes were there too, most standing farther back with calculating eyes that terrified him.

“Yes, Master,” Buck said. He pushed Ollie toward the bench and grabbed him by the back of the neck to force him onto the lower level.

Allemande leaned on the top and held the microphone down. “I can’t hear you,” he said loudly.

Buck cleared his throat. “Sunshine, I’m going to lock you in place in the bottom. If you were being punished, this wouldn’t have a padded board. It would be a single pipe, and you’d lie on it, which would put pressure on your back and leave you bruised and in pain.”

Ollie let Buck arrange him on the narrow board. The alternative seemed to promise even more trouble. Buck clipped Ollie’s wrist chain to something under the bench, and Ollie’s hands were locked over his head. “This gets your hands out of the way so you can’t offer any comfort to the person above you.”

Ollie frowned.
What?
He had no idea what was happening.

“Spread your legs,” Buck ordered. Ollie did, and the padded restraints went around them. “The leg stockades keep you in place if someone wants to whip your feet or torture your dick, but I don’t think they’ll do that tonight.” Buck looked up.

Ollie couldn’t see much of anything except Buck kneeling next to the contraption, and the underside of the table above him.

“We’ll be too busy with you tonight,” Allemande answered.

Buck nodded. “The head harness keeps you from looking away from the person being tortured, and it also keeps you from seeing what people have planned for you,” Buck said, and he brought padded boards up to either side of Ollie’s face, locking his head in one position.

Ollie was already getting uncomfortable as the thin padding allowed the metal underwear to dig into his skin, but there was little he could do. The crowd was unnaturally silent. Buck touched Ollie’s lower lip and ran his finger gently along it before he stood.

“I’ll be put in the upper pillory,” Buck said. Gears moved, and the part of the bench right above Ollie’s head started lowering. It had an oval opening so Ollie could see a small piece of ceiling. “The front part is adjusted so our faces are close together. Normally lovers are punished like this. That way the one feels the pain and the other is forced to see every expression and every second while being unable to help.”

Buck was silent for a time, and other gears clicked and whirred. Something brushed the tops of Ollie’s toes, and he pointed them down to get them out of the way. A light on the underside of the top plank flickered and then cast a soft glow over Ollie’s face. He didn’t understand why until Buck’s face appeared in the oval. Their noses were centimeters apart, and Buck looked scared…terrified, even. Ollie fisted his hands. Not only was he helpless, but Buck had put himself into this position intentionally. Ollie had played enough control games to recognize that.

Buck’s Dom had given him a rule, and he’d broken it to get attention, but this was clearly above and beyond any reasonable punishment or control game. Someone shoved the microphone in so it lay on Ollie’s chest.

Buck cleared this throat and then continued. “They’re strapping my head in so I can’t pull away. My arms will be pulled up and over my head and locked into place so they don’t get in the way of my whipping or protect my sensitive sides. My Master wants my pain.”

Buck yelped, and his warm breath spilled across Ollie’s skin. “My Master has put a very large dildo in me. Thank you, Master,” Buck said, but his face was twisted up in a way that made it very clear he was unhappy.

“Now they’re strapping down my legs and knees. The upper pillory is angled so I’m bent with my ass up. People can kneel on the board that’s above your legs and fuck me. I’m here for any masters to use because that’s what I deserve. I deserve to be used because I disobeyed my Master.”

It was amazing how Buck could sound calm while his face revealed his horror. Ollie imagined this would be very effective for lovers. Effective, traumatizing, and utterly unethical. It only got worse when the whipping began.

Ollie tried to tune out as Buck counted off whip strikes and explained how each made him feel—the sharp pain, the deep ache, the guilt at disobeying his Master, the fear that the whip was cutting into his skin. Finally after a long time, Buck started begging. He begged to be released. He begged to go free. He offered to leave the club and never be seen again. He cried, and every hot tear hit Ollie. He screamed, and the spittle landed on Ollie’s face.

After a time, Buck went quiet. He stopped begging for anything, and he moaned pitifully. His eyes fell shut, and Ollie could almost believe that Buck had found a way to escape the pain.

Ollie squirmed. He didn’t know Buck well, and honestly the guy’s dynamic scared the shit out of him, but it was human nature to empathize, and Ollie struggled with his inability to offer any sort of comfort. There were footsteps all around the pillory, but on his low shelf, Ollie couldn’t see anything.

When the contraption dropped lower centimeter by centimeter, Buck’s eyes popped open.

“Oh, fuck,” he said. The crowd erupted in laughter. Mean laughter.

Ollie frowned in confusion.

“They’re lowering the bench so men can reach my asshole more easily. Anyone who wants to fuck me can, men, or women using a pegging harness. My Master thinks the fact that I’m a switch means that I need to be taken down harder,” Buck said. “I don’t know why my Master put you in here with me.”

The grinding of gears stopped.

Someone reached in to grab the microphone. “That is an interesting question,” Allemande said, his voice echoing in Ollie’s prison. “Why would I put our new person in? Well, he certainly can’t carry drinks after someone hung him from my wall all day, so I can’t have him serve. I don’t want to put him on the spanking bench or horse on his first day. That’s a little much, even for me, and I want him to see how seriously I take any breaches of the rules. I assume he’s getting the point. As a bonus, if he is angry with you at all, Buck, this will give him his revenge.”

BOOK: Without a Net
9.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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