Chapter 14

"How do you want it?"

"Hard. I want bruises."

Landon yanked on her hair, forcing her head back, though she couldn't move far given that her arms were stretched up and out, bound to the St. Andrew's Cross.

"Try again," he growled.

"I'd like it hard, please, Sir," the blond sub said contritely.

"Better." Landon released Rose's hair and stepped back. He looked the fully naked woman up and down, and his first thought was of Colette. Wishing he had her bound and helpless rather than Rose.

His frustration from earlier had yet to ebb. His dick also hadn't calmed down.

Landon kept replaying that moment when Colette slid her wrists into his hands, asking to be held. Restrained.

And she'd still fucking pulled away.

When Rolf had asked him if he'd scene and give Rose the impact play she'd asked for, Landon had at first refused. He wasn't in the right head space to handle aftercare—he knew he wouldn't be able to give a sub the attention they deserved in the quiet time after a scene. Quiet would mean an opportunity for his thoughts to wander back to a certain thief. But Rolf had said he'd handle the aftercare, because by then he'd be done with whatever it was he was doing.

Landon stepped off the low stage, pulling out one of the wide drawers built into the base. Though they had a robust stock of impact play implements in the storage room, the most commonly used items were kept right here.

Landon pulled out a heavy oval paddle and longer rectangular paddle with holes in it. Plucking a baby wipe out of the closest container, he quickly wiped both implements before hanging them from a carabiner he'd hooked around a belt loop.

Landon cast one last look out at the crowd. He caught a quick glimpse of Colette through the crowd and lights, tray in hand.

Turning away from her and willing himself not to think about her, Landon stepped onto the stage, his focus now entirely on Rose.

"Ready to begin?"

* * *

The woman cried out as another small weight was added to her left nipple. Colette swallowed hard, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Unfortunately, all that did was make her aware of how slick her sex was. The purple fabric of her uniform underwear was dark enough that it didn't show a wet spot, for which she was intensely thankful.

If Rolf gave her a different, lighter color uniform tomorrow she'd have to get pantyliners, or wear her own underwear underneath for a double layer of protection.

"Join us."

Colette looked over at the slender Dom seated on the couch. A plump young man wearing a collar that said "fuck boy" straddled his lap face out. Ostensibly, they were watching the scene on the stage, where a woman in rope was kneeling on a table while her Dom tortured her nipples.

As she watched, the Dom on the couch tapped the "fuck boy"'s hip.

"No, thank you, Sir," she murmured, now watching this couple rather than the scene on the stage.

The sub slowly raised his hips, revealing that the Dom's impressively large cock was buried in his ass.

"Not all the way," the Dom warned.

"Yes, Master." The sub stopped, thighs trembling as he held the position. His master reached between their bodies, stroking the tight ring of the younger man's anus.

"Then would you get me some ice for his cock?" the Dom asked her.

"Of course, Sir. A glass of ice, or would you like me to find an ice pack?" Colette paused to look at the sub's cock, which was caught in a five-ring gates of hell, the fat head an angry red color. "Or maybe put a fleshlight in the freezer?"

The sub shot her an outraged look, while the Dom raised a brow. "Well, aren't you the treasure, Thief."

She started a little at the name but murmured a thank you.

"A glass of ice for now, and a bottle of water with a straw."

"Yes, Sir."

When she returned, the sub was laying back against his Dom's chest, his legs spread wide on the couch. His ass, with his Master's cock still embedded in it, was clearly visible.

As she watched, the Dom flicked the younger man's balls. The sub cried out, but kept his legs spread.

"What a good fuck boy you are. Does it hurt?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good." Another flick to the poor man's unprotected balls. "And what if I wanted to spank these?"

The man whimpered, but said, "It would be my pleasure to be used, Master."

It would be my pleasure to be used too, but I can't risk it.

"Thief, give him a sip, please."

Colette put the straw in the bottle of water, holding it to the sub's lips.

"Drink more," his master scolded. "I want your bladder nice and full."

Colette eyed the sub's cock, wondering if he could pee with the five connected cock rings on. She knew a lot about penises, but very little about how they could be used and abused in BDSM play, since she hadn't had any prolonged exposure to male subs.

"I'd ask you to assist with the ice, but I think you're needed at the stage." The Dom nodded behind her.

Colette passed him the glass of ice before turning.

The Dom on the stage had a safety knife out and was cutting through the ropes of the sub's chest harness.

Cutting rope bondage was never a good sign. Something had gone wrong.

Colette ran to help.

"Damn it, Lissy," the Dom was muttering. "You said you were over your chest infection."

"I—" The sub broke into a coughing fit. "I am," she managed to wheeze out.

Her Dom snarled. "I'm going to tan your ass for lying, but first I need to get you loose."

"Sir, can I help?" Colette asked.

"Yes, get the cuffs."

Colette started unbuckling wrist and ankle cuffs as the man finished cutting through the rope. The sub took a deep breath, which turned into a cough, then a cry as the Dom removed the nipple clamps. There were faint impressions of the rope across her upper chest and arms and around her breasts. She looked lovely with the marks.

Colette finished with the cuffs, stepping back to give them space.

"Blanket," the Dom snapped.

Colette jumped down, tits jiggling above the corset and grabbed one of her carefully rolled blankets. She shook it out and passed it over.

"You won't be able to sit for a week," the Dom was muttering.

"I missed you," the sub said softly. "I need you."

Colette's breath caught at the woman's soft, raw confession. The Dom pressed his forehead to hers.

"I need you too, but not at the expense of your health. There were plenty of things we could have done that didn't involve making it harder for you to breathe."

"I could breathe fine," she grumbled. "It's the coughing that was the problem."

The Dom wrapped an around his sub's shoulders, before lifting her into his arms and carrying her off.

Colette turned to watch them go, aching with a sweet sadness that she'd never had that. Nilus had performed after care, but he'd always been rather clinical about it, whereas those two had an emotional connection.

She tracked their progress to the far side of the club, where a scene at the St. Andrew's cross had gathered a small crowd. A naked blond sub was spread eagled, while a tall, dark-haired Dom raised a paddle.

A familiar tall, dark-haired Dom.

Landon.

Landon was scening.

Moths flew to flames that would burn them, and it was that same self-destructive urge that had Colette making her away across the room. She both didn't want to see this and couldn't do anything but watch.

The closer she got, the clearer she could hear the distinctive crack of paddle meeting flesh. The sub's pale ass was bright pink, with a few distinct oval marks from particularly hard swats.

She maneuvered her way to the right side of the stage, wanting to see Landon's face.

His dark eyes were intense and focused, his face stern and hard. He brought the paddle up in an arching motion from below, hitting the lower curves of the sub's butt cheeks. Her ass jiggled, and she rose up on her toes.

Colette wanted to be there. Wanted it to be her crying out in pain. Even though these weren't her favorite kinds of scenes, she wanted to be the one naked and helpless while Landon abused her.

Landon gathered the blonde's hair in one hand, leaning in to whisper to her as he rubbed the paddle over her abused flesh. She nodded in response and he stepped back, hooking the oval paddle to his pants. Switching it out for a long rectangular paddle with holes in it.

A murmur went through the crowd, and Colette winced. She'd never been one for heavy impact play on its own merits, but she'd had almost every type of implement plied across her ass in training, and even had one faint scar from the cane.

A paddle with holes on an already well-spanked ass was going to hurt.

Landon rubbed the flat of the paddle over the sub's body.

No, not the sub. His sub.

Landon's sub.

Colette swallowed hard.

She'd confessed that she didn't have anyone—no partner or Master waiting for her, but she hadn't asked Landon that question in turn. Was the blonde his sub?

He stroked the blonde's back, sides, and hips, then both inner and outer thighs, before finally positioning the paddle across her butt cheeks.

"Three if she minds her manners, five if she doesn't," Landon said, clearly speaking to the crowd.

He raised the paddle.

The crack of sound was shocking, this side of the club going momentarily quiet as those who weren't already looking turned to find the source of the sound.

The sub moaned in apparent pleasure before saying, "One, thank you, Master Landon," in a scratchy voice.

The second blow landed just above the first, and startled a shriek out of the sub before she thanked him.

Landon crouched and unlatched her ankles from the cross, then stood and loosened the chains that kept her arms stretched up. Had something gone wrong? Colette took a half step forward, trying to see if she was bleeding and that's why Landon was ending the scene one strike early.

He slid the paddle between the sub's body and the cross and used it to pull her back several steps.

"Bend," he ordered.

She bent at the waist, palms braced on the cross where her shoulders had been a moment ago.

"Spread your legs and show everyone your cunt," he ordered.

Colette imagined it was her up there, exposing herself because he'd ordered her to.

Landon rubbed the woman's hanging breasts with the paddle, and she moaned and shivered.

"I'm going to strike your sit spot." Landon's voice was low and dark, velvet smooth but unforgiving. "You won't be comfortable at your desk for a week."

The blonde sighed in apparent relief. "Thank you, Sir."

She'd called him Master Landon and Sir, never just Master. Maybe that meant she wasn't actually Landon's sub, just a scene partner.

Maybe that was wishful thinking on Colette's part.

Landon stepped back, attention zipping over the sub and the St. Andrew's Cross. As he turned, his gaze scanned the crowd.

Colette held her breath, wondering if he could see the crowd given the small directional lights that pointed at the stage.

She got her answer a second later.

His eyes widened when he saw her, and Colette raised her chin, though inside she was quaking. His gaze skimmed down her, and his jaw went tight.

His eyes met hers, and she didn't know how to read the expression stamped on his face.

She waited, though she didn't know for what, but Landon turned back to the blonde.

"Last one, Rose."

"Yes, Sir."

Landon raised the paddle, then looked at Colette. He held her gaze, flicked his eyes to the paddle and then back to her, the implication clear.

Colette smiled at him, one brow arched, but her heart was slamming against her ribs, and her fingers trembled.

Landon brought the paddle down on the sub's ass, and before her shriek of pain was done, Colette had turned away, doing her best to disappear into the crowd.

* * *

Colette almost made it back to the playroom suite door when Landon caught her.

She knew it was him the moment hands closed around her hips, yanking her back and spinning her.

If she'd had any doubt, the next second, when her back hit the wall and her wrists were pinned above her head, wiped them away. Being pinned to a wall by Landon was a nearly daily occurrence in her life as of late.

That errant thought made her lips quirk as she tipped her head back to meet his gaze.

Landon's lips were pulled up in a snarl, but he wasn't looking at her face. He was looking at her neck.

"Whose collar is this?"

* * *

Landon wanted to rip the collar off her throat, then murder whoever had placed it there.

Then he'd take Colette to his room and make sure she knew exactly who she belonged to. Mark her pretty skin so any other Master who tried to scene with her would know she was already taken.

Fucking danger, man. You're too deep in Dom mode.

He gritted his teeth and tried to rein himself in, but the urge to possess and dominate Colette was tearing him up from the inside. Topping Rose hadn't alleviated any of his need, only made him more acutely aware that he wasn't scening with Colette.

Seeing her in the crowd, wearing someone else's collar, had nearly killed his control. The urge to abandon Rose in order to control Colette had been nearly overwhelming. But he viewed the power exchange as damn-near sacred, and would never abuse the gift of a sub's trust. He'd finished the scene with one last smack of the paddle, then passed Rose over to Rolf for aftercare.

Then he hunted down Colette.

Her eyes widened at his question, the small smile that curved her lips vanishing.

"Whose collar?" he demanded. "Is it Red's?" The sight of her dropping to her knees for the other man would haunt him until the end of days.

"No." She took a breath, shaking her head. "No."

"I saw you kneel for him."

"What?" She frowned, looking genuinely confused. But that didn't mean anything. She was a good liar. "I didn't?—"

"I saw you. Stop fucking lying."

"I'm not lying!"

She tried to surge away from the wall but he leaned into her. Unfortunately that brought his cock into contact with her body, and his semi turned into a full erection.

"Whose collar? Who did you scene with besides Red?"

"No one," she snarled, her eyes flashing with anger. "Maybe I knelt down for a minute because my legs are tired, but I didn't scene with anyone."

"Really? Because your fucking skirt is missing."

Her expression went blank.

Landon's whole body went cold, as a different possibility occurred to him.

"Colette, did he, did someone…"

"No, Master Red didn't hurt me." There was something odd in the precise way she worded that. "He asked, and untied the skirt, but respected my ‘no'."

Touching her without being able to touch her was killing him, so Landon released Colette and stepped back. "Then whose collar is this? I know it's not Rolf's."

Colette raised her chin, eyes flashing. "Is it Agent Malik asking, or Master Landon?"

Whatever calm he'd scraped together evaporated. "Your choice. Answer the fucking question, Colette."

"Why? Why does it matter?" she taunted. "What will you do if I don't answer? Spank me?"

Without stopping to think, Landon grabbed her wrist and hauled her two meters to the left where a low storage bench was pushed against the wall. Landon planted his right foot on the bench, knee bent, and hauled Colette face-down over his thigh.

She shrieked and tried to get away, but he gripped the back of her neck with one hand, forcing her head down, which brought her hips and ass up. Given their height difference, her toes barely skimmed the floor.

Her ass was perfect—round and plump, the high cut of the panties leaving a good expanse of ass exposed.

He brought his hand down on her ass in a hard spank centered on her left cheek. Colette's feet kicked up as she yelped, and he had to transfer his hold from her neck to curl around the edge of her corset to hold her in place.

He spanked her right cheek, a little harder than he'd spanked the left. It felt so fucking good to have her like this, to hear her make a soft, needy sound.

We're finally fucking doing this.

He'd spank her, take her to his room, play with her and use her until she was desperate for his cock—fuck knew he was already desperate to feel her pussy around his dick—and then he'd fuck her.

"Safeword," he demanded.

"I can't decide," she snapped, tone at odds with the soft way she rested over his leg. "Between ‘diamond' and ‘go fuck yourself'."

God fucking damn it.

Landon hauled her up, holding her shoulders as she swayed.

She shrugged off his hold, raised her hand, and slapped him.

He saw it coming and pulled back so her fingers grazed the corner of his mouth rather than her palm meeting his cheek. He deserved it for spanking her without making sure they were expressly in a scene. Without knowing her safeword.

But he hadn't spanked her as a Dom. Not really. He'd spanked her like a frustrated man who was losing his fucking mind and hadn't been able resist her taunt. No excuse, but a reason.

Colette's eyes widened as she looked at him, her gaze focused on his mouth.

For a moment they were frozen, staring at one another.

Then Colette stepped up onto the bench, bent down, and kissed him.

If he'd thought seeing her dressed like a sub, or even having her over his knee for a minute was world changing, the kiss realigned the fucking universe.

She tasted vaguely of cream and coffee, her lips wet and soft against his. It felt odd to tip his head up to kiss, rather than down, but he liked it. Liked it better when her hands slid through his hair.

He wrapped his arms around her ass, feeling the warm, plump flesh against his forearms.

Colette opened her mouth, and he accepted the invitation. He ran his tongue over her lips before tasting her warm, wet mouth. Colette sucked on his tongue as she melted against him, her bodyweight leaning against his chest and shoulders.

She pulled back, breathing heavy, but he didn't let her go far, reaching up to cradle the back of her head with one hand. Their faces were too close together for him to see her—their foreheads together, her nose alongside his.

This felt like more than a post-physical fight kiss. Not that there should be such a thing as a post-fight kiss.

Remembering that he'd spanked her without prior discussion or consent, Landon winced and started to pull away.

Colette stepped down off the bench, but before he'd fully pulled away, she caught his wrist, dragging his hand to the back of her neck. He felt the bulk of the collar buckle under the silky strands of her hair.

She bowed her head, resting it against his shoulder. The quiet trust and submission made him want to pull her into his arms and never let go.

"You want me to take the collar off?" he asked softly.

"Yes, please." Her voice was equally soft, her next words almost inaudible. "I wanted you to be the one to put it on."

Had he heard that right? Probably wishful fucking thinking.

Landon carefully separated her hair, pulling it forward over her shoulders. He unlatched the simple buckle at the back of the collar, the leather and metal both warm under his fingers.

Colette lifted her head as Landon pulled the collar away from her neck.

"Let me see," he demanded, and she tipped her chin up, exposing her throat. He stroked the column of flesh with two fingers, and she shivered.

Enough was fucking enough.

Landon wrapped his hand around Colette's wrist and headed for the door.