Anne's Courage [Le Club 3] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 6

  Her eyes popped wide, and then she relaxed. He knew she could tell when he was yanking her chain. She nestled comfortably into his chest and sighed. “All right,” she admitted. “Sometimes those slaps dart right straight to my pussy. I just don’t understand it.” He knew she was confused by her feelings.

  “It’s the tension. A little fear, a little pain. It can be a potent aphrodisiac. That’s partly what makes BDSM so powerful. Remember, I’ve been doing this since college. Justin Devereau took us to Le Club Beaudelaire in New Orleans in our senior year during Mardi Gras. Jason and I both learned a lot there,” he said as he continued to rock her soothingly, running his big hand up and down her leg. The steady, repetitive motion and his sure touch calmed her, and her breathing began to deepen. “Relax now, little one. Everything will be fine.”

  After letting Paula nap for a half hour in his arms, he stood from the rocker and carried her back into the bedroom, depositing her on the bench at the foot of the bed. His cock was straining against the zipper of his trousers. He was getting pretty desperate for relief. “Okay, sub, back in position,” he ordered. She gave him an imploring look, to which he just raised one eyebrow. Not wanting to risk another smack on her sore, red bottom, she climbed into position without further protest. “Just relax, subbie. I know what I’m doing. After all, I’m a doctor, even if I don’t play one on TV.” He chuckled. He was trying to distract her as he spread her cheeks. He palpated the butt plug several times as she gasped at the sensation, took a hold of the plug, twisted it, and eased it out. It sprang free with an audible pop. He examined the results, and satisfied that the plug had done its job stretching her anal muscles, he stepped out of his trousers, took off his shirt, and put on a condom.

  Being sure to completely lube both his straining shaft and her back passage, he slowly but steadily entered her, easing past the still-tight sphincter muscle. He worked his shaft in and out slowly, pushing deeper with each stroke until he was fully seated in her tight, virgin passage. The cherry lube was a good choice after all. He grinned to himself. He held himself still, giving her body time to adjust to the unaccustomed intruder. He ran his hand down her back to reassure her. “Just relax, baby. You’re fine,” he said.

  * * * *

  Slowly, with smooth, steady strokes, he began to thrust his long, thick cock in and out of her ass. She gasped as pleasure speared through her at the unexpected sensations. She felt his body joined with hers in this new way, and she bucked against him, her pleasure building and quickly approaching a crescendo. He steadied her with one hand in the small of her back and reached down to insert his fingers into her pussy. He worked her clit with the same rhythm as he worked his cock back and forth in her back channel. His balls slapped against her wet cunt as his cock slowly slid in and out. The sensations were exquisite, hot and mildly painful as they turned to pleasure. She felt everything all at once, his fingers in her pussy, his cock in her tight ass. The unbelievably erotic feeling as new nerves were stimulated was overwhelming. As her arousal escalated, she started to meet his thrusts.

  “Like that, do you?” He lightly smacked her butt again, started to pump more vigorously, and she felt her clit harden.

  She only groaned. Every nerve in her lower body had come alive as he began to thrust harder and faster. The brutal pleasure that shot through her system was a shock. She screamed her completion as he thrust deeper until he followed her over the edge, and his hot semen shot into the condom. He collapsed against her back still buried in her ass. They were both breathing heavily as he laid over her back.

  “Am I too heavy? Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine. Better than fine. That was incredible,” she gasped, still breathless.

  “Do you admit I know what I’m doing?” he asked.

  “I will concede that was better than I thought it was going to be,” she admitted reluctantly, never willing to just give in.

  “Do you need another spanking?” he asked as he felt her pussy clench in anticipation. He laughed out loud as he wrapped her in his arms and kissed the nape of her neck, licked the shell of her ear, and caused more waves of arousal to again ripple down her spine.

  “Heaps better than I thought it was going to be,” she amended with an impish grin over her shoulder. He resumed rocking back and forth, his cock still at attention, and brought her to a second more subdued climax before he gently disengaged his cock from her ripe ass.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sunday morning at the pool, the group of women, Calleigh, Paula, Robbie, and now joined by Anne, met for mimosas and gossip. “This is getting to be a habit,” Calleigh said with a grin. “We’re going to have to think up a name for our group,” she said as she rubbed her belly. Emily Rose was kicking up a storm. “I think this baby will be going out for women’s soccer.”

  “How about we call our group ‘Subs Anonymous,’” Paula piped up. “Or maybe ‘Subs R Us.’” She giggled.

  “I can think of some really rude names,” Robbie said, “but maybe we should forget about those! Besides, Emily Rose is listening.”

  “Do not corrupt the delicate ears of my lovely little niece,” Paula said, laughing. “She has years and years with her crazy Auntie Paula to do that!”

  “Well, I guess I’m going to have to throw myself on the mercy of the group,” Anne said, “and ask your advice since I can no longer claim that nothing is going on with Jamie.”

  “What’s the problem, sugar?” Calleigh asked with a note of concern in her voice. “It looked like things were going well last night.”

  “No problem,” Anne said. “It’s like you said yesterday. I’m a newbie at this BDSM stuff, and I don’t know....”

  Robbie said, “As I told these two when they were newbies, give it a try. If it’s not for you, then you will at least have tried a new experience. You have to take it all with a grain of salt. Treat it like a game, role-playing, fun, fanny-smacking sex. Mike and I don’t live the Lifestyle at home, just when we come here. There is too much going on with the kids and farm and everything. Besides, it takes a lot of work and planning, especially for the Dom. The sub can just lay back and say, ‘yes, Master,’ but the Dom has to think it out in advance, plan the scenes, be prepared, be responsible. It’s really not as easy as it looks.”

  * * * *

  Paula said, “I never thought about that until recently.” I’d better be careful and not let anything slip out about “Mistress Paula” or Trent will have my ass! “But that’s true. I never appreciated how much effort Trent puts into our little games.”

  “Jamie and I used one of the theme rooms last night after dinner, the Executive Suite. It was really fun and very sexy. I didn’t know what to expect, but I felt like a naughty teenager sneaking out of the house.”

  “That’s it, honey.” Robbie said. “If it’s not fun and sexy, don’t do it. Did I ever tell you about the time Mike and I almost got caught getting frisky in the gazebo in Town Square? That was a hoot.

  “Oh my God. I knew you guys were going to be trouble.” Anne laughed.

  “That’s one thing you can absolutely count on. Isn’t it great?” Calleigh said as she raised her mimosa glass filled with just orange juice. “I can’t wait till I can have a real mimosa! But it’s true. As Robbie said, the fanny smacking does keep the motor greased!”

  Chapter Twelve

  Max Warwick, Justin Devereau’s butler and major domo, property manager and general caretaker in charge of everything, raised his glass in a toast to Anamaria Sanchez as they had brunch in the gazebo overlooking the pond at the farm. With the problem of Jester’s injury and everything going on, he was reluctant to leave the property, but he had wanted to spend a little private time with Anamaria to get to know her better. She is such a lovely woman.

  He thought that her floral print dress and large, floppy hat were perfect for a country outing. The months before the wedding when they had worked together had been hectic, but he had thought often how nice it would be to have her as a f
riend and companion. They both loved music, books, and gardening.

  “To a lovely day with a lovely lady,” he said gallantly.

  “Why thank you, Max. This is a treat. It’s so peaceful out here.” The light was like diamonds sparkling on the water of the pond. The air was crisp, and the sun was warm. It couldn’t have been a lovelier day.

  Anamaria was the premier wedding and event consultant in Ocala and was known for the most opulent, elegant affairs. She was a petite, dark-haired woman in her early sixties who had been born in Cuba and had been a “Pedro Pan” child. She had been sent to the United States after the island nation had undergone a regime change to communism.

  “I have to say, Anamaria, you did an exceptional job on Kelly and Justin’s wedding, especially since it was on such short notice.”

  Anamaria smiled. “Kelly was a pleasure to work with although the timing was extremely tight. They wanted a spring wedding with no delay. It was certainly the Ocala social event of the year. I thought it was stunning in its elegant simplicity.”

  “It should be interesting to see the spread in Ocala Country Life next month,” Max said.

  “Well, Kelly and Justin are obviously in love, and extremely good-looking, so the pictures will be stunning. In my opinion, though, that was just the icing on the cake as they are both genuinely lovely people.”

  * * * *

  Anamaria had also enjoyed planning the event with Max, who was tall and distinguished-looking with a full head of iron-gray hair. It had been apparent to her while they were working together on the wedding that Max was far more to Justin than just a butler. He had told her that he had been responsible for raising the boys after their mother died when Justin was eight and Jamie was six. Max also had full charge of several residences on three continents for the two Devereau brothers.

  My goodness. He is really such a handsome man. Tall and dignified, without being stuffy. Justin and Jamie certainly think the world of him.

  “What are your plans now that your retirement is imminent?” he asked.

  “I’m planning to take the odd consulting job, but really, I want to slow down, take time to travel, and just enjoy life.”

  “That sounds like an excellent plan. I have been trying to slow down myself but with all the properties and the boys. That sounds like they’re still kids, but once they’re your kids, they are always your kids. The sons of my heart if not my body.”

  “That’s true. I have several nieces and nephews, and grands as well. They will always be kids to us. Justin and Jamie seem like exceptional young men. I’m looking forward to enjoying Justin’s polo team. That will be such fun!”

  “Yes, he’s really having a good time putting the team together. I don’t know how he finds the time for all he does. And now a new marriage. I can’t tell you how excited I am about that. Kelly is a wonderful girl and just right for him. Maybe we’ll have some little Devereaus soon. It’s a little early to be counting on that, but I can hope. Jamie says he’s not interested in having a family, but you never know. That could change. Can I interest you in a carriage ride around the farm? I can have one of the grooms hitch up a team, and I can show you the property.”

  “Oh, I would love that! What a perfect way to see everything. I didn’t know you drove,” she said admiringly.

  “Well, I’m a little old to ride. These old bones wouldn’t take well to biting the dust. I don’t think I would bounce like I used to! But a nice drive in the country is perfect. Actually, I’m the one who taught the boys to ride when they were very small. We had little ponies for both of them. Cygnet and Sorrica. They chose the names. I have no idea where they got them. I have to say, they were both absolutely adorable little guys with dark, curly hair and huge, golden-brown eyes. That is when they weren’t busy being absolutely horrible.” He got up and helped Anamaria rise from her chair. He took his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the barn. “Manuel, please have the Shetland team hitched to the pony cart for me. I’m going to take a drive.”

  She smiled at him. “Can I interest you in accompanying me to the opera in Gainesville next Friday? Turandot is playing at the Gainesville Performing Arts Center, and I happen to have tickets.”

  “I would like that. Let’s plan on it,” he said with a smile.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After several hours of sunbathing and swimming in the black bottom pool, cocktails, snacks, and gossip with the girls, Anne was thoroughly relaxed. The guys had gone to the gym for a workout and a game on the big screen television.

  When the game was over, the three men wandered back out to the pool to reclaim their ladies. Jamie leaned down to Anne’s ear, “How about playing a little game with me, wench,” he whispered, nipping her ear lobe not quite gently.

  “What did you have in mind?” she inquired breathlessly.

  “How about the Medieval Dungeon room?” he murmured so only she could hear. “Get the key, and meet me there. Wear one of the long dresses with the laces in the front. In half an hour?”

  Anne grabbed the required key and marked the room as “in use” on the dry erase board in the club office and went into the wardrobe room to look for one of the long dresses Jamie had requested. She located the one she wanted, quickly changed into it, and hurried to meet him at the Medieval Dungeon which was located behind the Playroom.

  The Playroom was a free-standing building located at the back of the Estate. This was where the hard core BDSM activities took place. The outside had the look of a four-car garage that matched the residence, but inside was a large two-story industrial space. It had all of the BDSM paraphernalia necessary for the bondage and whipping rituals sometimes indulged in by various members who were more seriously into the Lifestyle, including padded tables and benches, chains hanging from the ceiling, and a St. Andrew’s cross with restraints attached. There was a wall of whips, paddles, crops, straps, belts, cuffs, restraints, and other ominous instruments. The Playroom was a large open space, and whatever took place there was freely viewed by anyone who happened to be in the room. The activities were closely monitored by dungeon masters for safety. Behind the building were additional theme rooms which could be reserved by the members for private play.

  The Medieval Dungeon room was a smaller, more intimate space decorated with faux dark stone walls and contained various items of furniture and equipment that resembled medieval torture devices. The look of the room was dark and foreboding. The door was constructed of heavy wooden planks banded together with metal straps and had a large, old-fashioned lock. Anne handed the ornate metal key to Jamie with a tremulous smile.

  “While we are in this scene, you will address me as ‘My Lord,’ wench,” he said with a stern look. He opened the door, yanked her inside, and locked the door behind them. He bound her hands with padded leather cuffs fastened together with metal chain. He then dragged her to the center of the room and secured her cuffed hands above her head to another chain dangling from a roughly hewn beam running across the ceiling. He adjusted the chain so that she was standing on her toes.

  Anne was breathing hard and looked scared. She knew this was only role-playing. But it certainly has the ability to get my heart rate up and my pulse pumping. Time to get with the program! “My Lord, please, I am not a spy from Lord Wilton’s castle. I am just a kitchen maid,” she wailed piteously. That’s rather good for a newbie. She was proud of herself. She was going to take Robbie’s advice and enjoy the game. A frisson of real dread went down her back. This is a game. Just a game. Jamie would never really hurt me. But God, it seemed so realistic. He looked magnificent wearing only tight black leather pants tucked into high black riding boots, his bulging crotch prominently displayed, the dark hair on his chest glistening in the low light from the wall sconces. “Silence, wench! I know exactly what you are, and I will have your confession before this night is done,” Jamie said. She could see his evil grin.

  “Please, My Lord...” Her heaving breasts were pouring out of the low-cut top of the blue dress b
ound by tight laces across the front. The back of the dress was fastened by hidden Velcro that ran from the neckline to the hem, allowing it to be worn by persons of various sizes.

  He strode behind her, his boots loud on the stone floor, and she felt his body heat against her back although he was not touching her. Somehow that was more frightening than a touch. He circled around to the front again. He gazed at her scathingly, and his hand darted out as fast as a snake. He tore the dress from her body. The shoulders were constructed to separate, and the back Velcro opened with a terrifying ripping sound. This is really very effective. Before she knew it, she was standing on her tiptoes, hands bound by chains and cuffs secured to the ceiling, stark naked. She screamed, only half play acting now. She took a deep breath to calm herself. It was just so unexpected! Nothing has changed. This is still a game. “Now, wench, what is Lord Wilton’s plan of attack?” he said, picking up on her gambit.

  “My Lord, I know nothing of this. Please have mercy,” she cried.

  “It is strange, wench, that you do not speak like a kitchen maid. Also, your hands are soft and elegant.”

  Oops! Slight miscalculation. Time to rethink my cover story! “My Lord, I was kidnapped from my father’s castle and held prisoner by Lord Wilton. I had been hoping my father, Lord Sutton, would ransom me, as he wants to marry me off for political advantage. I had given up hope of rescue. Then I had the opportunity to escape and hide in your castle posing as a kitchen maid.” Geez, you really have to think on your feet. Thank goodness for all those bodice ripper romances I’ve read.