Tymber Dalton - The Denim Dom

And Clarisse leaned in, sheathing Mac’s cock with a condom before she began stroking it with her hands. Mac’s head drooped forward as his hips thrust in the air.

Sully landed a hit on Mac’s right ass cheek. “Don’t come until I tell you to!” Mac’s head popped up, his back arching at the pain from the strike.

“This club doesn’t allow penetration or oral sex because of zoning regs,” Tony explained. “But I’ve seen them at private parties where she goes down on him during this part of the scene. The condom keeps the mess to a minimum. I hear you signed up for my whip class next Saturday.”

She nodded, unable to take her eyes off the scene before her. “And the bondage class.” Clarisse appeared to be doing her best to get Mac off while Sully had clearly ordered him not to.

“Good. You’ll learn a lot in the bondage class. Seth and Leah teach that one. Kaden taught him well.” His melancholy tone of voice caught her attention and pulled it from the people they were watching. She noticed Tony wore a sad expression.

“Who?”

“Kaden. Leah’s first husband and Seth’s best friend.” He gave her a strained smile. “Long and sad story. Not one for tonight.”

Another crack caught her attention. Sully had landed another strike between Mac’s shoulders. Not every strike made a sound. She suspected he only did it to startle Mac and get his attention. But every lash made Mac jump, his hips wildly trying to thrust against what Clarisse was doing with her hands while still trying to obey Sully’s order.

“Depending on how you strike and what kind of fall is on the whip,” Tony said, “you can tickle someone or cut them to the bone.”

That little tidbit quelled her throbbing clit. “Yikes.”

He tipped his head toward Sully. “He’s good. Really good. I wish he’d teach classes on whip technique.”

“Why doesn’t he?”

He shrugged. “He just doesn’t have any interest in it. But as you can see, when they play they draw a crowd.” She glanced around and realized over half the club patrons had gathered to watch the trio.

“Does everyone here play?”

“Not usually. A lot of people only come out to watch and meet with their friends.”

“Why would they come here then? Why not get together somewhere else?”

He shrugged. “Why not? If people didn’t want to be watched, they could do this stuff in their living room or bedroom. I’m not saying everyone who plays is an exhibitionist or anything. Some people don’t have access to equipment like this at home, so they scene here or at a party. Or they have kids or other family at home and don’t have the privacy to play there. Some like to scene and don’t care who watches. Some like to be watched. Some people only do certain kinds of scenes in public and leave the rest for at home. And the voyeurs get their fix by watching.”

* * *

Tony watched Shayla’s face as the scene played out before them. He didn’t know if she was fascinated or horrified by what she saw.

Or perhaps a mixture of both.

The scene ended when Sully began a crescendo of whip strikes along Mac’s ass before yelling, “Come!”

Mac’s body went rigid as Clarisse stroked him to completion. After a moment, he went limp in his restraints and looked like he could barely hold himself up. Clarisse used a paper towel to remove the condom and wipe him up before snapping the jock back in place. Sully brought Mac down and, with Clarisse’s help, led him over to a quiet corner where Clarisse first put down the pillow and a blanket before helping Mac to the floor. He curled up with his head in her lap while Sully went to pick up their toys and clean the station.

“Want something to drink?” he asked Shayla.

He noticed her blinking, as if confused, before turning her focus to him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Water? Tea? Coffee? They usually have sodas, too.”

“Oh. Water’s fine, thanks.”

He led her over to the buffet area and fished a bottle of water out of a cooler. He twisted the cap loose before handing it to her.

“Thanks.” As she took a swig, she looked pensive.

“Thoughts?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how to conduct an interview with them after what I just saw.”

“So how are you liking the rabbit hole, Alice?”

She let out a soft laugh. “It’s nothing like what I thought it’d be.”

“What’d you think it would be like?”

A dark look flitted across her features for a moment. Grief, perhaps? Maybe anger? He didn’t know, but part of him really wanted to find out even though he suspected tonight wasn’t the right time for that kind of in-depth discussion with her.

“I really don’t know,” she finally answered. “I mean, yes, everything fits perfectly with what Ross and Loren talked about the other night.”

She took another drink from her bottle. He suspected it was to give herself a moment to think. Then she looked up at him, and he realized she was the perfect height. She could wear stilettos and still be shorter than him.

He’d swear deeply ingrained pain flared in her hazel eyes. “I’m thinking there are some questions I’ll probably never get answers to.”

Tread lightly, Daniels. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m happy to try to answer anything I can.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I think no one here can answer those questions for me.”

He studied her but suspected she wouldn’t elaborate. Not tonight, at least, and perhaps never, unless he developed a deeper relationship with her.

He also suspected the answers she sought were a key to the reason she tried to wall herself off from others.

And maybe even tied to the fact that she was single, considering her abrupt relocation from Ohio to Florida.

* * *

Shayla tried to stay objective as she watched other scenes unfold. As Tony predicted, Landry did scene with Cris. It was a hard and heavy scene completely unlike the way Landry had topped Valerie. And she found it every bit as sexy as the scene between Sully and Mac earlier.

The brute force, the clear sadism in Landry’s movements, the way Cris responded to him, all of it mixed together to take her breath away and wish she could experience some of that herself.

Ross then scened with Loren, a sensual scene that ended with a round of forced orgasms for Loren and left Shayla’s panties damp just from watching them. Seth scened with Leah, a mix of pain and pleasure different yet from what she’d witnessed.

Part of Shayla’s brain recoiled at what she saw, the impact play, tears, marks and welts and actions that looked completely contradictory to what made up loving, caring relationships.

Tilly scened with a man who, it turned out, was a former client of hers. She was sadistic, every bit as brutal with him as Landry had been with Cris. And yet even Shayla could sense the way Tilly seemed to read the man’s body language, how she raised and lowered the intensity throughout the scene until she finally ended it after what Tony called a warm-down.

And despite the man being in tears and obvious pain a few minutes earlier, he was left smiling and even gave Tilly a friendly hug and kiss on the cheek when he recovered.

That was the part Shayla found difficult to reconcile. The contradiction of the bottom appreciating what the Top did for them.

Landry’s third scene of the night—Tilly. As Tony had predicted, the tender, loving hubby came out. Less impact play than with Valerie, but a lot more sensual sensation play.

And far more forced orgasms.

By the time he finished with her, Tilly was a limp puddle who could barely stand. He wrapped a blanket around her and carried her over to one of the couches where he sat with her while Cris cleaned up the bench and put away their implements.

Part of her envied the women—and a few men—being topped. She knew they had a trust in their Dominant that she didn’t have. She felt a sensual, visceral emotion she didn’t know how to label, and watching the scenes that ended in orgasm for the bottom wasn’t a hardship, for sure.

She didn’t know if she’d ever again have the trust they had in their Tops with anyone. Not after what she’d been through.

Sully approached her and Tony a little after midnight. “Did you want to sit down and talk?” Sully asked her.

“Oh, yes. Please. If you don’t mind.”

“No, we don’t mind. We’ll be leaving soon, and Mac’s feeling up to talking again.”

Shayla was glad Tony trailed along behind without her having to ask as Sully led her to the sofa area where Clarisse was curled up in Mac’s lap. Mac had gotten dressed again. Except for the leather collar buckled around his neck, and the cuffs around his wrists, he looked like any other guy. He wore jeans and a black, short-sleeved collared knit shirt.

She pulled her notebook and pen out of her purse. “I honestly don’t even know where to begin,” she admitted. “I’m pretty brain-fried at this point.”

Sully smiled. “I can give you our contact info,” he said. “We can always do a phone interview, or by e-mail.”

She handed over the notebook and pen. “That would be great, thanks.”

Clarisse smiled at her from Mac’s lap. “It’s a lot to take in at first.”

“Everyone keeps telling me that. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Don’t worry,” Clarisse assured her. “The more you see, the more it makes sense. No two dynamics are the same.” She looked up at Mac. “It took me a while watching my guys doing their thing together before I could accept it wasn’t abusive.”

Mac smiled at her. “We wore you down.”

“Not exactly,” Sully said as he handed back the notebook. “Clarisse’s ex was…let’s just say he was a piece of work. After she came to live with us and watched our dynamic, and saw that Mac willingly stayed with me and that it wasn’t all about the Master and slave stuff, she was able to accept what she saw.”

Shayla looked at the information he’d written down to make sure she could read it. “Isn’t it a lot of work living with all those rules?”

The three of them burst out laughing. “There aren’t as many rules as you might think,” Mac said.

“I have too much to do,” Sully added, “to micromanage them. They know how I like things to be done, and they do them. Real life always takes priority. Anyone who thinks an absolutely strict twenty-four-seven dynamic is practical or doable has obviously never tried it, or they’re so rich they can spend their time doing nothing but BDSM.”

“I don’t mean to be insulting,” Shayla warned, directing her question at Clarisse, “but do you get sick of him bossing you around?”

She shrugged. “No, because it’s not like that. He’s my husband. They both are. He has to work. Mac and I run the boat and have stuff to do with that. We’re like any other relationship. We have boundaries and roles and responsibilities.” She sat up and looked like she was thinking how to phrase her next statement. “I love making them happy. Isn’t that the ultimate goal of any relationship? To make your partner happy? I mean, it is for me. As long as there is a mutual give-and-take,” she added.

“For me,” Clarisse continued, “making these two guys happy makes me happy. That’s what it boils down to. I love them. We have a great life together. I trust them. I know if something’s wrong I can speak up and tell them, and together we’ll take care of fixing it. And it’s the same for them.”

Shayla studied her notebook as she jotted down a few things. Her mind reeled. Back to the issue of trust.

How can I write about trust when I can’t even feel it myself? When I don’t know if I’ll ever feel it again? “That must be scary, though. Putting yourself out there like that.”

“It can be,” Clarisse agreed. “And that’s part of the fun. Part of the thrill. I know they’ll both push me to try things I might be scared to try, but I also know they’ll never cross my hard limits. It’s freeing to just let go and trust them and experience things.”

“I never thought I’d hear slavery described as freedom,” Shayla said.

“It’s one of the most freeing feelings in the world,” Mac responded.

Shayla couldn’t sort out her conflicting thoughts about everything she’d learned and seen. Upon getting home from the club, sleep did not come after she went to bed Saturday night.

Rather, Sunday morning.

Even after she’d used her vibrator to reach orgasm twice, which was a record for her. It wasn’t uncommon for her vibrator to be useless getting her off, especially since her breakup.