Becoming His Slave (37 page)

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“Good evening, Dominus. You’re a little early tonight.” They were all greeted door girl once they stepped into Club Pain.

“Hello Vida. Put me down for one guest and three Slaves please.” Trenton gave the instructions to Vida. But in actuality Vida wasn’t a girl at all. Well not entirely, Vida was a full time cross dressing drag queen and in Club Pain she was well loved. The Bell of the castle they often said.

Vida caught site of Paris, the broad shoulders and chest now fitted with a tight slate grey muscle shirt along with the grey lined red plaid floor length kilt. “
Oh
, he’s nice to look at.”

Paris dared some robust play and blew his unseen admirer a kiss, without the hand gesture part since they were still shackled behind his back.

"
Oooo
—” Vida let out a high pitch gasp, “And such a sweet talker too.”

“How we looking tonight Vida doll?” Dane came up and leaned against the window and propped an arm up on the counter.

“It’s a full house.” Vida’s eyes following the remaining brothers as they walked by, “And with a royal flush too. You know the birthday bash isn’t till next weekend?”

“I know.”

“Then how did you get Harper in here?”Vida looked at his brother with a ghost of hurt in them.

Dane touched his brother’s face to wipe the look away. “Just lucky I guess.” His gaze flickered down the hall watching Harper follow with the others toward Trenton’s booth. “It has been awhile huh?”

“Too long. Sometimes I worry you’ve lost him as a brother.”

“That’ll never happen.” Dane turned back locking eyes with Vida as if what he said held a double meaning. He scratched at his forehead figuratively with a thumb. But the silent truth was they had all worried over Harper some, over the years. Ever since Harper started the private eye business actually. He’d grown distant; the more he saw the worse of what a human could be; the more he drew away from them. He’d even given up the pleasures he once got from B&D. He couldn’t stomach it, couldn’t separate it in his mind. And they didn’t push it, but they never let him forget he was still part of the pack. That would never go away.

“Give me a recap.” Dane shifted the topic over.

“Well the night is still early, but Olla had her girl on the alter for some hot wax play. Sasha had one of his boys in the stocks for some audience participation with foot tickling and—” Vida glanced at her schedule “and there has been a request for you to demonstrate rope bondage.”

Dane leaned over planting a kiss on Vida’s forehead, crooked his chin then disappeared down the hall into the club.

Paris' ears filled with the sounds of the night club. He heard the voices of several calling out for the bartender along with voices attempting to chatter over the music.

The
clunk and clank
of liquor bottles dropping back into their holding trays, came and went as they continued past. He was guided up a set of steps onto a raised platform that seemed to circle around the dance floor, identified by the swelling music that now drowned out everything else and it was all Paris could do, not to dig in his heels, but he didn’t dare push it with the Patronus or the Dominus again. No matter what was in store for him, he would not fight them.

“Relax big guy.” Paris heard the words spoken against his ear, felt Diesel’s hand on his neck comforting him. They were entering another area. He could tell by the way the music was becoming muted around them and he heard the door close into place against glass and Diesel’s voice turned softer, warmer than it had been all night. “Tonight is about trust. It’s important that a slave trusts his master. That no matter how far he may push his slave’s boundaries he will never allow him to be harmed. You still have to learn that. So tonight no matter what you hear or feel, nothing will be done to you.”

Trenton turned to his guest. “Fam if you want to let the girls have some free time on the dance floor I will permit it.” He already had his hands full with Paris and just now getting him into a manageable pace, so Trenton was in no hurry to take over the two girls just yet and his offer for playtime scored some instant points, seeing their eyes light up with delight. “Perhaps Harper here will walk out with them and keep an eye on them.” Trenton deliberately pointed out his distant brother.

“Trenton—” Harper was about to protest.

“I didn’t ask you to flog them.” Trenton quickly interrupted, “I merely suggested you watch a pretty girl dance.” He turned facing him directly. “You know I never thought I’d say this to a man—but you really should try thinking with your dick instead of your head from time to time.” He let out a soft laugh then waved Diesel with him as he headed back out of his booth to parade Paris through the club.

Trenton and Diesel lead Paris still bound and blindfolded out on the dance floor, stepping out into the center of the sea of bodies. The techno beat droning out a hypnotic rhythm had the crowd of dancers trundling and pulsating in sync with it. Once in place they stopped and allowed the bodies to draw close, drawing tight against the fallen angel bound and blinded like an offering for them and draw close they did.

Paris could feel the movement of bodies, fell the radiation of heat. First the brush of an arm then hips. He felt someone brushing against his back and another at his side, someone’s hand was stroking across his chest, his mind glued to each touch trying to decipher which hand belonged to his handlers. They had both been holding him when they drew him out, but now he could not tell if they're touch was still in the mix of the others. Their hands no longer where they had been. He wasn’t entirely sure if either of them even still had him at all, but the hands that did, had him growing fitful—the hands roaming over his body were more then he could decipher—okay maybe fitful was an understatement. He was very nervous and the more bodies he felt surrounding him and less like he was in the hands of Dominus or Patronus, the closer his mind drew towards fear.

“Dominus?” Paris called out to find that connection before he was really taken with panic and then he felt the strong hand against the side of his neck and the hands that had been stroking over his chest were gone.

“Relax. You are still mine tonight.” Trenton was suddenly in front of him. The strong tone of his voice asserting his claim on him.

Relieved, Paris dropped his head forward finding Trenton’s shoulder and he remained there, the contact of his body against his became his grounding. His security against the movement behind him. That surrender stirred a yearning in him, to have more contact with the Dominus. Still too many bodies coming in contact with him. Blind he could not see who, bound he could not push them away. It was an eerie feeling like being a pillar in the middle of an orgy. He struggled against the urge more like the need to crawl up in Trenton’s arms to escape the others.

He pushed his face up finding Trenton’s neck inhaling the dark cologne of basil and absinth. “I was afraid you were gone.”

“No, but should you ever try to escape my charge you risk venturing into dangerous places. You make yourself vulnerable.”

“I don’t understand—” and he really didn’t care what the answer was. What he wanted was to be free of this. To be back in control of his surroundings. That he was not, was making him dizzy right now.

“You should always keep close to your master. When he moves you move with him. And never allow others to lure you away. Your master is in charge not only of your pleasure and your discipline, but also your safety. So that connection must be kept within certain perimeters. Run away or try to escape will only place you in danger.”

“Please take the blindfold off. I can’t handle being blind.” His only comfort at that moment was feeling Trenton’s body against his, his breath caressing his ear as the domineering man spoke to him. But it wasn’t enough to stir his cock just then.

“No. It is important you learn to trust me. Trust that I would never let anything happen to you. You must also learn you have no control over what will happen.” And then Trenton stepped away from him.

Paris felt an instant of panic when he lost contact with Trenton and he tried to take an immediate step forward to regain the connection he had with his Dominus, but another strong hand held him back by his shoulder. The hand of the Patronus, but even his touch was lost when it slid down his back becoming mixed within the touch of others given open access to him once more. Hands stroking over his back and sides and shoulders. Once again someone or several some ones touching his chest. He felt the muscular frame of someone rubbing against his thigh, someone of the male gender and the erection they coveted between them.

Paris stiffened and his breath deepened. He didn’t like this, not being able to control who was allowed to touch him. While he loved making heads turn he didn’t let people touch him. It was his personal euphoria to lure then decide who he would seduce and allow to touch him. Always becoming focused in on his target and no amount of attempts from anyone else could ever detour him from his target. Even now, while the bodies that gyrated against him might stir arousal from another man it did nothing for his own. He knew what he wanted, and his need for arousal was very focused on the two men who would be his master for the next forty five days. The only ones he did want touching him were Trenton and Diesel.

“Relax nothing is going to happen to you tonight,” Diesels voice was back at his ear again and Paris right away dropped his head back finding Diesel’s body just as he had Trenton’s.

“Come. It’s time to take you upstairs.” Trenton was suddenly in front of him again.

“What’s upstairs?”

“Pain.” Diesel gave him the answer. “And very few rules about sex.”

Sex?
Okay going up stairs to have sex with Trenton and Diesel—this he could handle. This was what he had wanted He hadn’t picked up on any arousal from either of them all night. So the suggestion was somewhat cold, but the feeling of Diesel’s firm hands at his waist pushing him forward and away from the others that had crowded around him was a welcoming thought and his mind focused on those two hands that now held him. His cock even throbbed with the instant anticipation that those two hands would soon be moving around to touch him, wrapping around his shaft and bring him to happy release.
Pleasure
. That’s what Trenton had said, a master controlled a slave’s pleasure.

With the aid of Diesel’s firm grip, Paris was led up a long flight of stairs. Inside the upstairs room the music from the dance floor falling away directly ahead of him the moans of someone being whipped taking its place.

SMACK
—
“Ohhh.”

“Welcome Dominus. Welcome Patronus.” Paris noted the baritone voice greeting his masters as he was led into the upstairs space. Again the sound of another
phwack
against skin followed with a moan.

Paris felt Diesel’s hands urge him down on the floor, his knees finding soft carpeting, his back finding the edge of a sofa. His senses following Trenton and Diesel as they both sat to either side of him. He leaned one way then the next till he felt their legs against his body, assuring himself of their proximity to him.

The whipping paused.

“Please
Desiderio
, do continue.” Trenton gave the command and the whipping sounds paired with moaning started back up.

Paris tried to keep his composure, but was losing ground as Trenton and Diesel kept quiet watching what he could only hear. It seemed so absurd that they would actually be whipping someone inside a club for real. So he made the mental declaration that it was show, an act rather than real and with himself being blind it was all the more dramatic.

“Do you know why we’ve brought you up here Paris?” Diesel asked him.

“You want to tease me with the belief someone is actually being whipped, when they really aren’t to show me that nothing is going to happen to me.”

“You don’t believe that what you hear is real?” Trenton asked, but Trenton didn’t wait for his reply, “To your feet, Slave.”

Paris got to his feet with some help from Diesel who kept him steady. Then he found himself in Trenton’s hands and the manacles that held his wrists bound were released.

“Give me the honor, Olla.” Trenton asked of the woman Paris could only assume was the one making all the noise for his benefit.

“By all means, Dominus.” And the sound of flogging stopped.

Trenton took Paris’ hand in his lacing their fingers together and reached until he felt skin under his finger tips. Flesh—red hot to the touch and as the Dominus guided his sense of feel, he felt the welts—swollen lines of raised heat. He could make out the round curve of the persons ass, soft skin rippled with several layers of welts and then the narrowing waist and up their back, then the faint shivering response to the combined touch of his hand inside that of the Dominus.

Paris swallowed hard, not only the realization of what his fingers told him, but some strange arousal in him. He pitched his weight back finding Trenton’s firm body locking him in place and that solid connection fired him further.

“Do they feel unreal to you?” Trenton’s breath touching his neck as he asked the question, but it wasn’t sarcasm questioning him, but lust. Paris could not only hear the desire in Trenton’s voice, but he could also feel it, how Dominus’ fingers braided with his, smoothed over the battered skin with a loving caress.

Paris’ head snapped with a shake. It felt very much real. “Why would someone submit to this?” He whispered.

“Because there is pleasure in it.” Trenton practically breathed the answer in his ear.

“No.” His head still shaking with the disbelief. “Pleasure for you maybe.”

“Tell me slave—” Paris felt Trenton’s head drift away from his own and the question directed towards the body they were touching, “Have you cum for your master yet when she whipped you?”

There was a response, first of just panting, but then the whispered response of a
yes.

 Paris couldn’t stop shaking his head as if it could perpetrate his denial, “I could never.”