Page 21 of Ryker

My fists clench. “Have a good evening, gentlemen. And thank you again for your contributions to tonight’s ceremony.”

As I take a step away, Ryan’s next statement holds me still. “Yes. Well, I have a very pouty mistress waiting for me in room seven.” He glowers at me with no hint of the friendliness he just showed. Typical.

Dipping my head, I feel my chest tighten with dread. “And what do you think you’d like done about it?” I’m not into granting requests, but tonight’s a special circumstance.

“Send Sophie up to play with us.”

If this motherfucker thinks he can order me around in my own club, VIP or not, I’ll knock him the fuck out and blacklist his ass. He better remember who the fuck he’s talking to.

“I didn’t hear a please,” I warn. Perhaps humiliation is in order, so he learns his goddamn lesson. “I’m waiting, dog.” He might be a Senator outside these walls, but in here, he is a pet. He enjoys being called Pup. I’ve seen him crawl on all fours, bark, and wag his tail. To each their own, but he will not act like the animal who calls the shots up in here. That’s my privilege and mine alone.

His cheeks redden as he looks away from me. “Please.” he says harshly.

Blake Rittenhouse stands beside us, slack jawed. I hope he’s taking notes, but if he needs a lesson too, I’ll give him one next.

“Please what?” At six-foot three, I have Ryan by only a couple inches, but I’ve never needed height to make others feel small around me. Taking a slow step forward, I look down my nose at him. “Please. What?”

I love watching people choke on their audacity.

“Please, can you send Sophie up to us for the evening, Sir?”

He won’t even look me in the eye at this point. “She’s already taken for the evening.”

Ryan’s head snaps up. “Then can you make her un-taken, please, Sir.”

It’s up to Sophie if she wants to play with that couple or not. I doubt she will, though. Brushing the invisible dust off his shoulders, I smile and say, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I also get one of those fuck machines brought into room ten?” Blake asks with a wry grin. “And a taser, Sir.” At the last second, he tacks on. “Please.”

My smile is tight enough to split my bottom lip, but I keep my mouth shut and fists to myself. This is the price I must pay to keep the peace. But the reality of it is, I’m not the one paying for it at all.

My employees are.

Without saying another word, I leave Blake and Ryan to their quiet chatter, and for the first time in my life, I dream of burning this club to the ground.

???

In the penthouse, Jessie’s having a lot of fun with her playmates.

Crack!

Moan.

Crack!

Moan.

Jessie’s in her glory—her glassy eyes shining with a subspace induced high. A lusty smile ghosts her face as she’s bent over a bench, her hands tied to the bottom front, and legs tethered to the floor. Bare and streaked with red, her ass glows from being spanked hard with a paddle. Her back sports several red streaks from a flogger, too.

“You wanted to be the Butterfly?” Sophie practically growls as she lifts the flogger and cracks it down on Jessie’s ass again. “You think someone else knows how to give you what you need like I do, slut?”

Crack!

Jessie’s arms shake even as she melts onto the bench. “No, Mistress.”

“I didn’t think so.” Sophie’s leather outfit gleams in the dim light, but she’s taken off her gas mask. Hair in a high pony, some of it sticks to her temples from sweat. She sinks a finger into Jessie’s cunt and pulls it out to inspect how wet she is. Sauntering around the bench, Sophie crouches down to look Jessie in the eyes and smears her lust-coated finger across Jessie’s cheek. Then she walks around and spanks her again. “No one gets you wetter than me.”

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