Eyes Wide Open (16 page)

Logan had now removed his socks and his shirt, and stood there in only his dark blue jeans, which rode low enough on his hips to offer an enticing slice of his underwear, which naturally led her to fantasize about what was beneath. Just because she already knew, had already
experienced
what was beneath, didn’t mean she didn’t want to see, taste and touch it all over again with both of them.

James’ body heat was apparent as he remained just behind her in the doorway, and he reached out, pulled her hair away from the side of her neck and murmured into her ear, “I’m looking forward to this. And to having a proper look at what you’ve got on underneath that coat. I don’t suppose you’ll let me relieve you of it?”

Shuddering at James’ closeness, the whisper of his hot breath on her skin and his words, she nodded slowly. “Okay.”

He took the garment as she shrugged it off her shoulders, and she was vaguely aware of him moving away from her as she continued to look at the items on the bed and at Logan. He’d watched the exchange between her and James with interest, and now he grinned as her slutty get-up was revealed once more.

“Can I just say how much I love that outfit?” His eyes glinted with lust, and Fiona, despite her relative inexperience, suspected she already knew what Logan had in store for her.

“You can. Thank you. I’m glad you approve.” The rebellious streak still burning within her, she grabbed the sides of the PVC skirt and pulled them out wide as she gave a mocking curtsey.

A sharp inhalation of breath from behind her told her James was back and was either surprised or shocked by her behavior.

Seemingly choosing to ignore her—or maybe he was saving his response until later—Logan replied, “So, since you’re dressed appropriately, how about you be the pupil and I’ll be the teacher? You should address me as Sir.”

Now this was something she
did
already know about. Submissives often called their Dominants Sir, Master or something similar. It was a mark of respect. Given that this was just a game at this stage, though, Fiona was happy to play along. It didn’t make her Logan’s submissive.

“Yes, Sir. I’m willing to learn.”

“Good. Come here, girl, and bring your friend.”

Half-turning, she reached for James’ hand, and the two of them crossed over to the bed. As she got a closer look at all the items laid out on the silken bedclothes, the pulsing that had begun between her legs back in the club grew stronger. Again, she was reminded of why the soundproofed rooms were so useful.

“Okay. I hope you’re paying attention, because we’ve got a lot to pack in, and I’ll be moving on to a more practical demonstration later in the lesson. From left to right, we have whip, crop, flogger, paddle, slipper, cane, tawse, handcuffs, blindfold, ball gag, restraints, two sizes of vibrating anal plug and a bullet vibrator. As always, in the bedside drawer, we have lubricant, condoms and antibacterial cleaning wipes.”

The last sentence, Fiona was sure, was more to reassure her of her safety without breaking out of the persona he’d adopted than to teach her anything. She appreciated it nonetheless. Nodding, she said, “Okay, Sir. So what’s next? Will you be using all of these things on me?”

As the words tumbled from her lips, she found herself hoping that the answer was no. Not all tonight, anyway. It’d be too much. She was sure of it.

Chuckling, Logan said, “No, not all of them. Some of them, yes. But all those corporal punishment devices, plus my hand, would be much too much for your delicate buttocks to take in just one evening. What I propose is a taster of a few of the gentler ones. Then for some of the more painful ones, I’ll teach you, using James here as our subject, how to use the items.”

She licked her lips as she digested the words. Then, nodding again, she said, “Yes, Sir. I understand, and I accept your proposal.”

James’ consent wasn’t asked for, but Fiona figured the two of them had played these kinky games a hundred times over, so it was implied by the fact that he was even here.

“Very good, girl. Now, a big part of BDSM is not doing anything you don’t want to. Or, if you find that you don’t enjoy something or it hurts beyond the realms of pleasure-pain, then the Dominant will stop immediately. This is achieved by the use of a safe word. You say the safe word, and anything that’s being done to you at the time will stop straight away, no questions asked, no repercussions. All right?”

“Yes, Sir.” She had known that already, but she didn’t want to interrupt him or put him off his stride, mainly because said stride was so damn sexy. She’d known almost from the moment they’d met how bossy he was, but when he morphed into this full-on Dominant persona, she found she liked it, very much. She’d enjoyed it when he’d taken charge, orchestrated the smoldering threesome they’d had a month ago, particularly since the results had been so spectacular.

Despite these feelings, though, she didn’t feel very submissive when he was this way. She’d willingly gone along with his plans during their ménage because she hadn’t had the faintest idea how things worked, but she’d never felt tempted to throw herself upon his mercy and obey his every command. How was it possible to find Logan’s dominance so hot, but without being submissive?

Even more strangely, she was much more excited than worried about the prospect of having some of the implements used on her—perhaps because she’d only be subjected to the gentler ones—and the thought of using what was left on James was thrilling. Confused, she figured it would be better to stop thinking, and start doing, and have done to her. She could try to work out what it all meant afterwards. Or maybe ask questions. But not now. They were making progress here, were on the very cusp of yet another unforgettable evening together, and she didn’t want to delay it any longer.

“Are you still with us, Fiona?” Logan’s voice punctuated her decision—a full stop.

“Sorry, Sir. What was that?”

“I asked if you could choose a safe word, please. Something distinctive that you wouldn’t normally call out in the bedroom. So not ‘no’ or ‘stop’. For example, James’ safe word is ‘supernatural’, after his favorite television show.”

Giving James an impressed sideways glance, Fiona smiled. “Mine, too,” she said, before turning back to Logan. “In that case, Sir, I would like my safe word to be ‘Castiel’.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “God, both of you? Really? Should I dress in plaid and jeans, stock up on holy water and rock salt and be done with it?” Shaking his head, he continued, “Okay, Fiona, ‘Castiel’ it is then. Remember, though, this is only if you want something to
stop.
If you want to slow down, or for me not to use so much force, just saying so will be sufficient.”

“I understand, Sir.” The vision of him dressed up as a Winchester brother was not unappealing, but she decided to keep that particular opinion to herself.

“Excellent. Let’s get started, then. Come with me, Fiona.”

He led her to a straight-backed chair with no arms. She wondered why he hadn’t picked one of the more comfortable armchairs, but didn’t have to wonder for long.

Sitting down, Logan patted his lap. “I want you over my knee, Fiona. What sort of underwear do you have on?”

“A—a thong, Sir. A white one.”

Closing his eyes briefly and biting his bottom lip, he then said, “That can stay as it is for now, then. Come on, quickly.”

Moving over to him, her heart rate increasing, Fiona draped herself over Logan’s lap, reaching for the chair leg to help steady herself. As soon as she was in place, he trapped one of her legs between his own, securing her into place. Relaxing a little now that she didn’t think she was going to tumble onto the carpet, she wriggled to get comfortable. It was then that she noticed the hardness poking into her hip. Her body responded immediately and shamelessly, heat racing through her every nerve ending and a trickle of juices seeping into the gusset of her knickers. Before long, it would be obvious to both men just how turned on she was, as the scent of her arousal permeated the air.

Biting back a moan, she waited for whatever was going to happen next, excited and tentative in equal measure. She’d wanted firsthand experience of BDSM, and now she was about to get it. From an expert, no less and, even better, someone she trusted and was hopelessly attracted to.

“James,” Logan said, “could you please bring me the paddle? I think that would be best to start with, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir,” James replied, moving immediately to comply. Handing over the implement, he remained nearby, apparently wanting to watch the show close up.

“Mmm…” Logan lifted the tiny skirt, the timbre of his voice deepening as her backside was exposed. “Such a pretty arse. So pert, so pale. I look forward to marking it. Are you ready, girl?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Your safe word?”

“Castiel, Sir.”

“Good. Be sure you don’t forget it. I hope you won’t need it, but you
must
use it if you feel you need to.”

For God’s sake, just get on with it, will you?

Out loud, she repeated, “Yes, Sir.”

Chapter Twenty

As Logan stroked the cool leather of the paddle over her trembling arse, Fiona couldn’t help but wonder how this was going to compare to the self-experimentation she’d indulged in all those weeks ago. Spanking her own inner thighs in the bath had been the very beginning of her education, and it had stung quite a bit, but she suspected it wouldn’t come even remotely close to preparing her for what was about to happen.

And yet, she was still much more excited than scared.

That all changed when the first blow hit her arse. The yelp was out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she gripped hard onto the chair’s leg to stop her snapping her hands up to cover her bum. That would no doubt only get her into trouble. Or, rather,
more
trouble.

“What I’m going to do, girl, is give you four blows with each of the implements I’m planning to use on you this evening. I think that is a fair number—a bearable number—for someone so new to this. I feel I should warn you that I may well leave some lasting marks on your luscious arse. Will this be a problem? I don’t want to upset your boyfriend.”

Frowning, Fiona wondered why he was mentioning a boyfriend when she didn’t have one. But then she realized that they’d never actually had the discussion, so Logan was probably just covering his back. “It’s fine, Sir. I don’t have a boyfriend. Nobody will see my bum except for me.”

“All right,” Logan replied.

Then she was pretty sure she heard James say quietly, “No boyfriend? Fucking blokes around here are clearly insane.”

The compliment, whether it had been intended for her ears or not, warmed her to the very core and had the added benefit of bolstering her resolve. She could deal with whatever Logan was going to dish out. She’d asked for it, after all.

Blow two arrived soon after, on the opposite buttock. More prepared this time, she didn’t yelp, but still sucked in a breath through her teeth, squeezing her eyes closed as the sharp sound faded away. Milliseconds later, the sensation arrived. Stinging, burning, melding gradually into an ache and a throb, which only served to emphasize the throbbing already taking place between her thighs.

Smack! Smack!
The next two were given in rapid succession, and the overload of sensations raced through her nerve endings and her veins, leaving her in a weird kind of limbo—did this hurt, or was it the hottest thing she’d experienced in her life? Did she want him to stop or carry on?

All she knew for sure was that her pussy continued to swell and ache, juices leaking from her core. She could smell herself now—the scent of aroused female unmistakable.

She’d been so focused on what was going on in her brain and body that she’d lost track of what was going on around her. She was reminded immediately when something landed with a wallop on her left arse cheek. Then her right, then left, then right. No pauses this time, no chance for her to get used to the pain or psych herself up for the next spank—just one, two, three, four, in rapid succession.

A slipper landed on the floor, out of reach, but within her eye line. She suspected it had been thrown there deliberately so she could see it. Pain bloomed in her rear cheeks, and she felt the skin growing hotter and hotter. Not one millimeter from the base of her back to the crease where buttocks met thighs was free of the burning sting, which seemed impossible after only eight blows. How could he have covered so much ground? But then, she supposed he’d had plenty of practice.

Determined not to be caught unaware this time, Fiona paid attention to what was happening around her. Logan, of course, remained beneath her, pinning her into place, while James returned to the bed and collected the next implement. She didn’t know if he was choosing them, whether Logan was signaling somehow, or if there was some premeditated order. Either way, James had wordlessly picked up the flogger and walked back over to the chair.

Shit!
Fiona bit her lip. If the flogger was one of the gentler implements in the lineup, then she certainly hoped Logan stopped after he’d used it on her. The wickedness of the others wasn’t something she felt she was ready for. And did he plan to add in any of the restraints, the gag or the toys? Or were they focusing only on corporal punishment this evening?

She didn’t get the chance to ask, because suddenly Logan was tickling the tails of the flogger over her tortured skin. It didn’t hurt, per se, but she suspected that anything that touched her flaming arse, however lightly, would garner an unfavorable reaction. Fingernails would be the absolute
worst.

After a few seconds, the tails stopped their tickling, and Fiona gritted her teeth, preparing for the blows. They came quickly, though not as quickly as those from the slipper, probably because he had to lift the flogger higher to land the hits.

What felt like a thousand tiny pinpricks exploded across her quivering flesh, expanding and joining together until her bum was one giant expanse of raging agony. Multiplied by four, that agony had her clenching her arse and screeching, calling Logan all the names under the sun. And to think he’d probably gone easy on her.