The Plume: The Second Anthology (25 page)

She shivered by way of response as they
crossed the threshold and he tightened his grip on her, flexing his
fingers on her shoulders. She felt small and fragile, as if he
could snap her in two, and again, he was awed by their lack of a
safe word. Mike wasn’t any less strong than he was. He wondered if
having such power over Joanna thrilled Mike as much as it did
Eric.

He’d lock her up and never let her go, if she
was his.

“If you were mine, I’d command you to lock
yourself up every day,” he growled in her ear. “I’d call you up and
tell you to bind yourself for me. Like a present. And you’d give
yourself to me over and over and over again.”

Joanna shuddered from head to toe.

Eric was sure he was in heaven.

The door in the garage led into the basement
of Mike’s townhouse, but things had changed since the last time
Eric had visited, at least a year before. Then the basement had
been unfinished. Now a large part of it was blocked off into a
separate room, a room he couldn’t see because of its closed door.
Mike produced a key and unlocked the door, revealing a custom
dungeon in black leather.

Eric knew his surprise showed. Mike smiled at
him briefly then glanced intently at Joanna.

“So, this is where we’re going to share her
tonight?” Eric asked.

“Yes,” Mike said. “We can keep her locked up
all night. The walls are soundproofed so we don’t even need the
gag.”

“But I like the gag,” Eric said, running his
hand over it and feeling the shape of her lips beneath it. She
moved her mouth beneath his touch, and he swallowed. “I like that
sound she makes with it.”

“Scream, Joanna,” Mike commanded and she
tried to do so.

Eric’s heart leapt at the helpless sound and
he shut the door to the dungeon behind them, liking how solidly the
key turned in the lock. Did Mike keep her in here over weekends?
For longer than that? The prospect made Eric’s blood pound in his
ears.

“Probably better to keep her gagged,” Mike
mused. “She tries to claim control of the situation when she sucks
me off sometimes.”

“Bad girl,” Eric said and slapped her butt
lightly.

“Very bad,” Mike agreed. “After all, she’s
the one who wanted to be shared.”

“Naughty puss,” Eric whispered to her, liking
how she quivered in his grasp. “Are you saying one master isn’t
enough for you?”

She made a protest, another muffled moan, and
it was all he could do to not tip her over the leather bench and
bang her hard.

Eric gritted his teeth and took a deep
breath. He also wanted to make this last. “So, now there’s just the
three of us.” He felt Joanna tremble, but he could smell how wet
her sex was. She
was
loving this, which just heightened his
own reaction.

Eric was good with helping to make her dreams
come true.

“Time to flip a coin to see who goes first,”
Mike said.

“Don’t tell her who wins,” Eric growled.

Mike nodded. “We should make her guess which
of us it was.”

“And if she’s wrong, we keep her here
longer.”

Mike’s smile flashed. “A old friend of mine
likes that game, doesn’t he, Joanna? But he says you have to wonder
who will lie first.”

He moved quickly then, grabbing a spreader
bar from the rack of accessories on the wall. “Take off her
chastity belt,” he commanded and Eric did as he was told. It was
loosened already, but he removed it completely and cast it aside.
He couldn’t resist the opportunity to run his fingers over her wet
wet sex.

Meanwhile, Mike dropped to his knees and
pushed Joanna’s feet apart, securing them to the spreader bar. It
was long, and forced her ankles to remain about three feet apart.
Eric was fondling her breasts when Mike unfastened her wrist
shackles from the back of her waist. She swayed between them,
earning only a quick glance from Mike. He locked her wrists
together, then seized a chain hanging from the ceiling. Eric
figured he’d left it hanging there on purpose. He bent Joanna over,
her bound wrists secured behind her back and hung from the chain on
the ceiling.

They both stepped away. She was splayed open,
willing, dripping and theirs to claim.

Eric felt dizzy.

Mike pulled out a coin. “Heads or tails?”

“Heads.”

Mike flicked the coin into the air, caught it
and covered it with his hand. He peeked at it without displaying
it, then nodded at Eric.

This
was
his lucky night.

Eric considered the array of accessories,
then chose a nice leather cat o’ nine tails and a leather strap. He
handed the paddle to Mike.

“She’s such a bad girl,” he whispered and
Joanna shuddered again.

“Oh, she is,” Mike agreed. “Let the
punishment begin.”

Joanna moaned into her gag and trembled from
head to toe, making Eric hot before they’d even begun.

* * *

Rex was more pissed off than he’d been in a
long time.

He was in charge of the Plume. He was
half-owner of the Plume. He was the one who made the rules and
orchestrated the fulfillment of fantasies—and that didn’t include
him being used as a prop for someone else. He’d technically agreed
to be Leya’s model for her shibari exhibit, but only under
protest.

He certainly hadn’t agreed to be trussed up
and taken captive in advance of that exercise.

The show had been great and the sex had been
fabulous. But right now, Rex wanted to go home, shower and sleep.
That Leya had decided he would spend his day otherwise made him
furious.

It wasn’t up to her.

He struggled against the leather bonds,
knowing he wouldn’t be able to break free. At the very least, he
could make it tougher for these six guys to move him to wherever
they were going. He roared into the gag and kicked as hard as he
could, taking great satisfaction in every grunt of surprise or
pain.

How
dare
they?

Leya was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, plus
high-heeled sandals. Every step she took created a click of her
heels against the concrete floor, a delicate feminine sound that
shouldn’t have excited him. That it did only made Rex even more
mad. That he could smell her puss on his skin and he wanted more
was like salt in the wound.

He could smell her perfume too, and taste her
on his own lips. She was sweetness and spice mixed together, with
those lush breasts and a hungry puss. Having her in the gallery
hadn’t been nearly enough.

She’d used him as a prop there, too. Maybe
she only liked being in charge. Rex was ready to tip the balance
the other way—maybe that was why she’d ensured he hadn’t had a
chance of making that happen.

She wanted him captive, but she had these
thugs to do the dirty work for her. If it had been a fair fight—if
they had come at him when he was conscious, if they hadn’t
outnumbered him, if they hadn’t each been as strong as he was—they
would never have been able to bind him.

But they had him now. He was at their
mercy.

Rex’s heart skipped a beat in fear. An
unwelcome memory flickered in his thoughts, one that had driven
many of his choices in the intervening years. Rex pushed it back,
knowing the emotional power that memory still held for him.

But when the men dropped him into a canvas
sack and knotted it over his head, he couldn’t help it. He was
blindfolded. He was bound. He was helpless and at the mercy of
numerous men.

Rex freaked.

He was that lonely teenager again, the kid
too much of a geek to have any friends.

He was in the football field behind the high
school, walking in the rain, looking up to realize that he was
being surrounded by the cool guys. In a heartbeat, they had his
glasses. They took his camera and smashed it on the ground. They
tugged his coat over his head so he couldn’t see, and then they
punched him, coming at him from all sides. They pulled down his
pants and laughed at his dick, slapping it at intervals.

He couldn’t see them coming. He couldn’t
anticipate them. He couldn’t escape. Panic triggered his asthma,
but he couldn’t reach his inhaler.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t save himself.

He couldn’t defend himself.

He would die.

Not again! Rex thrashed, snared in a terror
beyond expectation. He hit his knee on something metal—maybe a door
frame—and he heard Leya’s helpers swear. They dropped him onto a
metal floor, the impact driving the air from his lungs.

He couldn’t catch his breath. It was all
happening again. He
was
going to die. His mind began to fill
with white and he feared he would pass out.

Then what? Then what would they do to
him?

His heart thundered in fear. By force of
will, he remained conscious, fury coursing through his veins. He
struggled and flailed, his panic compounding with every passing
second. He was trapped. He was going to die.

Rex felt the sack being moved but couldn’t
make sense of it, not until it was pushed open.

Suddenly, Leya was looking into his face with
real concern. She unfastened the gag with shaking hands and cast it
aside. Rex took a deep gulping breath, then another, a shudder
rolling over his body. He could smell his own perspiration, sharp
with the tinge of terror.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she unfastened the
bonds on his wrists. She was kneeling beside him and the cloud of
her perfume surrounded him, soothed him. She looked him in the eye
again and spoke more softly. “I’m sorry.” She reached out and
framed his face in her hands, easing the wetness from his cheeks
with her fingertips, then kissed his cheeks in turn. “I’m sorry,”
she murmured, her breath against his skin.

The tenderness was unnerving. It was then
that Rex realized he was trembling.

As he caught his breath, he became aware that
he was in the back of a van, probably one of the Plume’s vans. The
six guys who had been helping Leya stood on the loading dock,
peering into the van with concern and uncertainty. She remained
kneeling beside him, hastily unfastening his shackles and bonds.
She was talking to him, her tone low and soothing. He wasn’t even
sure what she said but the sound washed over him, convincing him
that he was all right.

Once the bonds were loosened, Rex couldn’t
put enough distance between them and his body. He stretched his
hands and his legs when he was free, pushing the shackles and the
canvas sack away. He was still naked. He was still in need of a
shower.

And he was still mad.

Leya was watching him with care, as if
uncertain of what he would do.

He was surprised by how her perfume aroused
him, its exotic scent mingled with the spice of her own body. His
body stirred, against all expectation, and he found himself aware
of the ripe fullness of her breasts, so close by his hand.

He wasn’t going to be distracted by lust. Rex
met her gaze, knowing his own must be simmering with anger. “There
is one thing I can’t tolerate.”

“The bonds?”

“The bonds with the blindfold.”

She nodded, recalling. “I didn’t know.”

Rex heard his voice rise. “How can that
be?”

She frowned slightly. “How could I have
known? Athena said...”

“We have
files
,” Rex responded with
heat. “We have records and we have
rules
.” He took a shaking
breath, jabbing his finger through the air at her. “We have these
safeguards because I insisted upon them, because no one in the
Plume is going to get hurt if I have anything to say about it. We
protect
our members, and that includes me!”

Leya looked contrite. “That makes sense, but
I didn’t know anything about it.”

“That’s why we have files!” Rex shouted. “But
you never checked them.” He dropped his voice to a low threat. “You
made a plan to capture a member of the Plume without checking that
member’s file.”

“I’ll guess that’s against the rules,” Leya
said quietly. “Funny Athena didn’t mention it.”

“Athena!” Rex glared at Leya. “Did she
authorize this?” At Leya’s nod, he pushed to his feet, livid. He
got out of the van, glad to be on his own feet again. “Are all of
you members of the Plume?” he demanded of her team, already knowing
the answer.

They nodded.

“Then you should have spoken up. You know
about the files. You know why they exist, and you know that at the
Plume, we defend our members.”

“I assumed Leya had done the research,” one
man dared to say.

“And that assumption could have killed me!”
Rex retorted. He forced himself to lower his voice. “Do you have
any idea what the repercussions might have been? If I had died,
shackled and sacked, here on property outside of the Plume, what do
you think would have happened?” Rex ran a hand over his head. “I
can’t even imagine what the press would make of it, let alone the
police. You could all have ended up in jail for assault, never mind
manslaughter.”

They paled at that and dropped their gazes to
the ground.

“That might be your fantasy but it isn’t
mine.” Rex pivoted to face Leya and pointed at her again. “You have
been so fucking irresponsible that I should ban you from the club
forever.” He gestured to the rest. “And all of you should have your
memberships rescinded. We can’t tolerate this kind of crap, not if
the Plume is to have a future.”

They didn’t like that idea. Several of them
exchanged quick glances and Rex could feel the tension rising.

Good. As far as he was concerned, a little
worry was the least of their troubles.

Leya arched a brow. “And Athena?”

“I’ll deal with her myself,” Rex snarled.
“Where the fuck are my clothes?” He’d packed a small bag that
Louise had said she’d bring to the gallery and he wanted it now.
He’d shower later, once he was rid of all these fools.