Page 53 of Temptation at Randy's

“So you don’t want to be the perfect slut for me?” Claude taunted as I pulled my finger out.

As with every hole, it always felt strange when it was suddenly empty. Some days, the emptiness pulled me into a mourning mood of sorts. Today, there was no time to mourn. Claude didn’t take any prisoners, didn’t tease around it. They just lapped at my clit until I had to focus hard on not thrusting my hips up into the air.

I didn’t notice right away, but I did when a sharpness like I hadn’t felt before pulled my focus back. Almost out of breath, I looked to see that they’d wrapped a finger around the chain connecting the two clamps together. Their eyes screamed wickedness when they stared up at me, giving a smaller, teasing tug.

“Again,” I breathed out the word—for reasons unbeknownst to me.

I thought pain would greet me, but it wasn’t quite pain. It was… fire, coursing up my veins and spreading throughout my entire body.

“Claude,” I warned. I didn’t know that I was going to last a lot more.

“You can let go with me,” they hummed, barely stopping the ministrations to my clit.

Their lips wrapped around the head, though, their cheeks hollowed out.

I felt that orgasm run through my entire body. I didn’t know what made me pass out—the orgasm itself, or Claude choosing that time to take off the clamps from my nipples.

Nothing had ever hurt so sharply, so physically. Yet, no pain had ever left such a feeling afterwards—a need to rejoice in it, to chase more of it.

FOURTEEN

Claude

“Do you really have to drop me off?”

“We both work tomorrow,” I reminded her, my voice softer than I’d ever admit as I tucked a few strands of dark hair behind her ear.

Truthfully, I didn’t want to leave her, either, let alone when she was still so dazed after whatever trip she’d gone on back at the club. I had so many questions about it, too, but after she’d come back to the land of the living, she’d just wanted to curl up by my side.

I hadn’t had the heart to do anything else but snuggle and praise her in an even softer voice than the one I was using now.

“I wanna see you more.”

“Good.” I didn’t know if it was Arlene talking or the needy sub she’d turned into back at the club. It should’ve been irrelevant, but something told me the distinction mattered. I wanted to honor it even when that meant not digging into what she really meant with that request. “I’ll walk inside with you, and I’ll text you first thing in the morning, okay? And you can call. Or text. Anytime.”

It was important that I told her that, and that she knew I meant it.

I did.

I’d read up on sub-drop enough to last me a lifetime over the last few days. I wanted to know about it if she struggled. Arlene was new to all of this, and while I assumed she’d done some research of her own, it still felt like my responsibility to make sure that she’d be okay.

I wanted it to be my responsibility.

Huh.

So I had a bit of Zaddy Domm in me, too? I guessed I was collecting types of Domms as if they were Pokémon. It would fit with the way I went about a million other things in life, so the revelation wasn’t too shocking. It was just funny.

I’d have to text Arlene about it—tomorrow, after checking in that she wasn’t feeling any worse for wear.

In hindsight, I shouldn’t have suggested we go to a kink club during the week—for her first time, no less. In my defense, though, the weekdays were when the clubs were emptier. My main issue back then had been to plan for a day when she wouldn’t be easily overwhelmed.

“Do you promise?”

Fuck, she sounded almost drunk. I’d given her plenty of water too, before we’d left the club with a promise to Clay that we didn’t hate him and we’d be back sometime. They’d mostly been just words, but I would not say no to going back. I’d say Arlene needed to do it, too. If nothing else, she needed to explore that fully fledged sub in her more, and being in the club seemed to unleash something she usually clung on to tighter.

Or maybe it had just been muffing?

I had no problem making her finger herself every day if that was the case. Or fingering her too, after I felt more confident about it. Watching was hotter, anyway. It was really underrated, but that didn’t change much for me.

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