Kinko de Mayo (9 page)

Together, Rebecca and Toby both moaned, “Yes, Sir!”

Tonight, Gilo and Abbey had settled more into a Ma’am mode, with him submissive to her.

And that could change at any given second, but for now it was how things shook out.

Meaning he knelt on the floor at her feet, wearing his leather cuffs, collar, hood, and jock.

And nothing else.

She had a leash clipped to his collar, which she’d dropped and was now standing on, keeping him from moving from where he was, or even sitting up.

He was good with that.

Their switchy dynamic was very fluid, swinging back and forth, sometimes even in the same play session, depending on what they were doing, their energy levels, and what else was going on around them.

Their friends had long since given up trying to figure them out.

Tonight when they’d eaten, Abbey had fixed a plate for both of them and sat on the couch with Gilo on the floor at her feet while she hand-fed him pieces of food.

Bliss.

Before Abbey entered his life, the main facet of his personality most of his kinky friends were familiar with was Gilo the SAM.

Only with Abbey had his Dominant side really been allowed free.

His
kinky
Dominant side.

In real life, he was always in a dominant headspace, responsible for the safety and health of hundreds of workers for a local power company.

That was why all of
this
…this was play. This was relaxation. A chance to shed the work week and just…chill.

Once one of the portable spanking benches was free, Abbey picked up his leash and gently tugged, indicating for him to get to his feet and follow. On the way, she picked up her implement bag and cane tube.

He felt his cock stirring. He was in for a beating, and it’d been a couple of weeks since they’d had a good, hard play session.

She quickly got him blindfolded, gagged, clipped to the bench, and settled. With her hand on the top of his hood, she spoke right next to his ear.

“Who’s ready for a sore ass?”

“Me, Ma’am,” he mumbled around his gag.

“Anything in your mouth I need to know about, besides your ball gag?”

He snickered, remembering how he’d surprised her with the engagement ring at the Valentine’s Day party they’d thrown for their friends. “No, Ma’am,” he said.

“Good boy. Just checking. Guess I should have verified that before I gagged you.”

She patted him on the head before he sensed her move around to his ass.

She started out by warming him up with a bare-handed spanking that quickly relaxed him and allowed his mind to drift in preparation for the beating he was gratefully about to receive.

Abbey did not disappoint.

As she proceeded to step him up from that, he always thought the best analogy was of a musician playing a fine instrument. Their play styles as Dominants were different because, while he was a masochist, she wasn’t. Not to the same extent. Depending on the circumstances, either or both of them could certainly engage in sensual or sexual play as part of a scene…

But John always got his ass thoroughly beaten when he was on the bottom.

And that was the way he liked it. It was something he’d come to peace with years ago. It worked for him, and for them as a couple.

If the two of them were having fun, it wasn’t anyone else’s business if they could figure it out or not.

Although confusing their friends was, admittedly, part of the fun for them both.

She worked her way through the implements, growing increasingly harsher as she did, pulling his brain into subspace, sending his endorphins skyrocketing, diving him deep into that beautifully blissful place.

He wasn’t aware of how long they played. She stepped up, backed down, took him to the edge of safewording several times, rolling him through all the emotions, his love for her, his hate of the pain, the need to please her, the desire to take everything she gave him and push through it all to the other side.

Everything.

The big finish was the heavy, Delrin hexrod cane, the one he lovated—loved and hated.

And she didn’t disappoint.

She grabbed hold of his collar. “Who’s my good boy?”

“I’m your good boy, Ma’am.”

“Ready for the big finish?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Whack!

Had he been on a St. Andrew’s cross, or on a trapeze bar, he would have been up on his toes as a signal he was still processing the pain and needed a moment.

Trust.

He had it and knew she would wait.

She did.

Whack!

That one made him arch his back and bite down harder on the bit gag, stifling his scream, struggling to process, nearing the point of overload.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Followed immediately by the soothing, cool feel of her hands on his ass, signaling they were done.

He shivered, gasping, letting the last bits of the tide overwash him, filling him.

She didn’t release him immediately, and he knew that she was gathering their implements first. Then she unclipped him, helping him up and off the bench, taking him off to the side where she put him on his hands and knees on the floor.

“I’ll be right back.”

He nodded, waiting.

And she returned a moment later, sitting beside him. He tucked his head in her lap as he coasted, surfed, processed, enjoyed.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he mumbled around the ball gag.

“You’re welcome.” She patted the top of his hood.

It took him a few minutes to collect himself. Then he sat up and waited for her to remove his blindfold and gag.

She smiled at him. “Better?”

He leaned in and kissed her, long and hard. “Much better.”

He nuzzled her arm, kissing her there.

“Love you,” she said.

He looked up at her and smiled. “Love you, too, baby.”

They stayed there for a little bit longer, relaxing, chilling. Eventually, he sat up and grabbed a handful of her hair, tipping her head back and kissing her hard, deep.

Aaand there’s the flip.

He smiled down into her eyes. “Who’s my good girl?”

She smiled back. “I’m your good girl, Sir.”

After the clean-up was mostly finished and all the guests had left, Cali sat in one of the loungers on the lanai and stared at the placid surface of the pool. With the pool lights on, it cast bluish-white ripples along the insides of the screens and off the roof overhang. Inside the house, Max and Sean were tidying up the last of the party mess. They’d shooed her outside to relax.

She heard the living room sliders slowly open and close again. Sean sank onto the lounger next to her. “So, when are you going to tell us what’s rumbling through your brain? Or are you going to make us play twenty-thousand questions with you? You’ve been acting off all night.”

“You guys are going to hate me,” she softly said.

“Okay, when you say something like that, it scares me.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I want to have a baby right now.”

He stared at her.

“Did you hear me?” she asked when he didn’t respond.

“I heard you, but is that
it
?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said we’re going to hate you, and you tell me you don’t know if you want to have a baby right now.”

“Yeah?”

He stared at her again for a moment. “So, let me get this straight. You’re worried that we’re going to hate you because you don’t want to have a baby right now?”

“Yeah.”

He rolled his eyes. “I should toss you into that damn swimming pool for scaring me for no good reason.”

“What?”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We don’t hate you. We could never hate you, especially not for something like that. Seriously.”

“I thought you guys wanted a baby.”

“Yeah, maybe. In the future. Not right this minute. And especially not if you don’t.”

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” He moved over to her lounger and pulled her into his lap. “Sweetheart, you’re the love of our life. Our partner. And it’s your body. If you aren’t ready, then that’s it. No problem.”

She cuddled against him, her head pressed against his chest. “I feel like I’m letting you guys down.”

“Why?”

“Because I said when we got together that I did want a baby.”

“Yeah, and we didn’t take that as law, either. We knew it wasn’t a sure-fire, etched-in-stone kind of thing. There’s no deadline, no timeframe. It’s when—or
if
—you want to. But can I ask why you’ve changed your mind?”

“Well, seeing you trussed up as a human piñata, for starters. Try explaining
that
one to a toddler.”

He snickered. “True.”

“And…I’m feeling selfish. I want more time with you two before we add to our family. The more I think about that, the more I’m wondering if I will ever change my mind and really want a baby. I like our life. I like being able to throw parties like this without worrying about arranging a sitter. I like what I do for a living. I’m having fun growing our business, and it won’t be like I can take a kid to work with what we do. Not unless we want a few visits from DCF about it.”

“True. But it would make show-and-tell days at their school kind of fun.”

She glared at him.

“I was kidding. But again, it’s something only you can decide. It’s not something we can or will decide for you.”

“But you get a say.”

“No, you can ask for our honest opinions, and we’ll give them, but we do not, in this case, get a say. Not when it’s your body. This isn’t trying to decide what color to paint the guest room. This is a major, life-altering decision. I would rather you be honest and say you’re not ready than try to do something just because you think it pleases us. A baby isn’t an IKEA couch we can return because it doesn’t fit exactly into the decor. And it’s not fair to you—or to a baby—to make that decision if you’re not one-hundred-percent sure.”

“There you go, using logic on me again.”

He rubbed his chin in her hair. “Besides, the first time we all babysit for Essie and her guys, me and Max might be making appointments for vasectomies the next day.”

That drew a laugh from her. “I didn’t think about it like that.”

Max opened the slider. “Is this a private party, or am I allowed to join?”

They slid over to make room for him on the lounger and Sean filled him in on the gist of their discussion.

Max gently cupped her chin in his hand. “What he said. There’s nothing else for me to add to the conversation, frankly. He’s absolutely right. If we live our lives together, the three of us, and never have a baby, then that’s fine with me. If you decide you want a baby, that’s fine with me, too.”

“Really?”

He leaned in and slowly, tenderly kissed her. “Really. Just…don’t get into some creepy realistic baby doll fetish or something to substitute for a real one, okay?”

“Deal. Those things wig me out, too.”

“Build-A-Bear, I’m good with that. They’re kind of cute. And some of the clothes might fit Baxter.” His expression brightened. “Ooh, business deduction.”

From inside the house they heard a muffled, plaintive
maow
.

They turned to see Baxter, up on his hind legs and pawing at the sliding glass door.

“Besides,” Max said, “we have Baxter. He might get his nose out of joint if he’s not the only baby in the house.”

She snickered. “True.”

They got up and went inside, Baxter twining through their legs in greeting as if he hadn’t seen them in forever. She picked him up and cuddled him.

“Sorry we had to lock you in the office tonight, buddy. We didn’t want you nonconsensually interfering with anyone’s scene.”

“
Attack of the Dominant Pussy
,” Sean teased. “That’s…” He trailed off.

Max and Cali turned to look at him. “What?” they asked.

A slow grin filled his face. “How about a movie poster. A mock-up of like an old B-grade sci-fi flick.” He waved his hands through the air as if bracketing the words. “
Pussy Takes Control
. And have a montage of pics of Baxter in different outfits Photoshopped onto it, with filters to make it look like those old cartoony old movie post—”

Cali turned and headed toward the bedroom. “Good night, guys. I’m too tired to think about work.”

“It’s a great idea, right?” Sean asked.

“It’s an idea,” she called out over her shoulder.

“So is that a yes or a no?”

“You coming to bed or not?”

Max snickered. “I think that’s a no comment. Or a vote of no-confidence. Or…something.” He smacked his partner on the arm. “Come on. To bed. I’m exhausted, too.”

“Seriously,” Sean called out. “It’s a great damn idea!”

“Come to bed, Sean!” they both yelled.

* * * *

Cali thought she’d be too exhausted to play around, but she rolled over on top of Max and kissed him. The next thing she knew, he had his stiff cock buried balls-deep inside her pussy.

Not a bad problem to have.

He smiled up at her, his brown eyes crinkled in amusement. “One last little hurrah before the evening comes to a close?”

Sean snorted. “Heh. You said ‘comes.’”

She glared at him over her shoulder. “And this is another reason we don’t need to worry about kids right now. I have two kids. You two.”

“And Baxter,” Max added. “Don’t forget him.”

“He won’t let me forget him.”

Baxter was currently rolling around on the floor, stoned out of his gourd in a catnip-induced haze to keep him from trying to get up on the bed and create a little feline-interruptus. They’d discovered that was the easiest way to distract Baxter.

Locking him out of the bedroom only pissed the cat off and made him pitch a fit in an attempt to get them to let him back in.