Page 110 of Fire & Ice

“Thank you, Sir,” he murmurs, allowing his eyes to drift shut.

Maybe the ‘knows their audience’award goes to Lee, after all. The second Tripp’s head is down, Lee's hand is in his hair—stroking, soothing, calming, until both the world and Tripp’s nerves begin to disappear. At some point, someone stops by to speak to Leander. Tripp can feel their presence above him, can hear the two men exchanging friendly words, feel the rumble of Lee's laugh and the sound of the music playing layered beneath that.

Tripp’s in his bubble, though, well on his way to leaving all the things he normally carries, normallyworries aboutat the door.Trustis so much more than the word—it’s this, it’s handing his fears over to Leander before he even asks Tripp to do so, before they even step foot into their play space for the evening.

They stay like that, with Tripp leaning on Leander for an indeterminate period of time wherein he swims and melts, drawing from his Dom’s solid strength at his side. It could be hours or only minutes, Tripp doesn’t care and doesn’t try to figure it out. He only knows that when Leander taps his cheek and slides a hand around his bicep to help him stand, it’s time to go.

And Tripp’s ready.

Being led through the heavily draped curtains doesn’t feel ominous or scary, not when he’s following Lee, not whenLeeis the one holding them open, guiding Tripp into a whole new world alongside him. His eyes stay focused on Tripp—always on Tripp—looking right through him and seeing every inch of every single thing Tripp tries so damn hard to hide from everyone else.

Oh yeah, he’s ready.

The Dungeon is softly lit, bright enough that any Doms can easily see what they’re doing, but nothing harsh. The music in here is different: still quiet and left for background noise in a way that won’t interfere with commands or safewords, but it’s deeper, heavier, something with bass that pulses in Tripp’s chest. This is a whole different kind of party from the social hour out front or the casual-kink in the mixed space, of that, Tripp is sure.

It’s crowded in here, too. More so than Tripp’s seen it in the past, but that doesn’t faze him, because he only has eyes for Lee. Still, it’s impossible not to notice the sheer number of people. Some are playing, most watching, and nearly everyone is touching someone besides themselves, though hardly any are doing so in the same way as whoever’s standing beside them. Pairs are dwarfed by larger groups that seem to naturallydissolve into two-to-foursomes, but everything feels sort of fluid.

It’s an enchanting thing to be a part of, Tripp thinks, feeling awed.

As magical as it might be, the one thing that isn’t lacking back here in the Dungeon is communication. The “enthusiastic and continuous consent” rule is hard and fast, and something that’s clearly taken seriously. Monitors with armbands drift amongst the crowd and hang at the edges, but they’re less ‘bouncer’ than Tripp initially expected (although, they do that too, if necessary) and more “Ask Jeeves.”

In fact, the first time Tripp was here, his longest conversationnotinvolving Lee was with a dude named Cal who turned out to be the lead monitor for the whole operation. He was super cool, gladly answering all of Tripp’s questions and explaining that the Dungeon monitors usually function to help. They keep an eye out for potential consent or rule violations and act kind of like the gym employees who explain weight settings to newbies so they don’t hurt themselves or others.

If Tripp’s being honest, he’ll admit that Cal’s a good-looking, silver fox type, one that he wouldn’t have turned down if Lee wasn’t already his entire world. And Caldidoffer, though he was amiable and unoffended when Tripp politely declined. Even now, in his semi-subspaced daze, Tripp picks Cal and his piercing light eyes out of the crowd, finding him lurking unobtrusively in a shadowed corner next to some industrial piping. Tripp tips his chin and the guy raises a hand in acknowledgment, having apparently noticed him, too.

Tripp wonders if he’ll watch their scene (likely, since he’s working) and what he’ll think. A thrill rips through his body just imagining that—and hell, that’s allowed, right? That’s the entire point of this thing, isn’t it? Itis,Tripp knows that, but it’salso maybe something he didn’t fully understand until right that second. The concept of going through with this is one thing, the reality is quite another, but he’swayinto it.

Moving in step behind Leander, Tripp follows him compliantly towards the back of the Dungeon, over to a spanking bench that’s not currently in use. It’s freshly wiped down and has a recovery couch just off to the side nearby, and Tripp’s practically itching to be bent over it.

A sharp tug on the leash yanks Tripp from his reverie with a start, his gaze torn away from the equipment to land on Leander, who has now turned to face him. His Dom holds up a single finger, steps to the side, and gives the spanking bench a once-over, turning some knobs and repositioning the parts to his liking.

“Color, Tripp,” Leander demands when he’s done, dropping his bag to the ground and advancing, reaching up to unclip the lead from the ring on Tripp’s collar.

“Green, Sir,” he answers confidently and Leander nods, a slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“And your safeword?”

“Halligan, Sir.”

“Are you using it?”

“No, Sir.”

“Are you going to be good for me?”

“So good, Sir,” Tripp replies quickly, earning himself the soft graze of Leander’s fingertips down his forearm.

“Then kneel,” Leander commands, sweeping that same hand towards the piece of equipment he’s just adjusted.

This is it.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Tripp does as he’s told, climbing up onto the padded kneeler before bending forward and pressing his chest to the elevated portion of the bench. With Lee's adjustments, it now tips forward so that Tripp’s upper body can take some of his weight, relieving the pressure on his knees. The position leaves him head-down with his ass fully displayed and in the air, and Tripp can feel his cock growing hard just from the positioning, from theexposure.

People are watching this.

Tripp’s arousal only grows when Leander removes his hands from where they’re resting awkwardly next to his ears, folding first one arm and then the other behind his back. Lee secures them deftly above the dip in his spine using new rope tied off to Tripp’s existing chest harness. It’s a snug fit, Tripp’s fingers nearly touching his elbows, and forearms mostly overlapping. He tries, but can’t so much as wiggle a half-inch of leeway in any direction.

He loves it.

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