Page 55 of Hooked

Chapter 14

AFTER THE INCIDENT, Joseph fumed for days. He blamed himself for not being on time and considered it a personal failure that he wasn’t there to defend her. Livia knew it haunted him. Each time he saw the bruises on her arm, he planted tender kisses on the discolored skin. They had faded by the following weekend, along with most of Joseph’s anger. He no longer brooded over the disturbing event, but she could tell he hadn’t forgotten, becoming more protective and almost hypervigilant with her safety.

Another week passed. Although Livia wanted to switch gyms or not go at all, Joseph coaxed her back. He accompanied her each time, ever watchful. She suspected he was hoping to run into Vaughn, but much to her relief, they didn’t.

By the end of the workweek, they were ready to unwind and headed back to San Antonio. Emma and David’s guest visit was approved, so they joined them. Since it was Friday, and Elena’s night off, the lounge and bar were busy but not bursting at the seams as on her prior visits. It was a different story when they entered the jam-packed playroom where it looked like all two hundred members had come out to play.

Although she was still new herself, and she hadn’t seen all there was to see, she enjoyed watching her friends’ initial reaction to the Decadence dungeon. Awestruck, Emma’s jaw seemed perpetually unhinged, her mouth open as she blatantly stared, and David’s eyes darted around the room, trying to take everything in at once.

“Did I look like that?” she whispered to Joseph.

He glanced at their guests and smiled indulgently. “I think everyone does when they get their first look.”

It was little wonder. Livia wasn’t used to it herself. Everywhere she looked, couples, and occasionally small groups, were engaged in some sort of kinky play. The smell of sex and leather permeated the air. And the discordant sounds of erotic play—groans of passion, cries of erotic pain, and the rhythmicthwacksandthudsof floggers and paddles—combined to produce a unique sort of music.

Like her last visit, a couple performed under the spotlight on the elevated stage. This time, wooden stocks restrained the male submissive. His domme, a voluptuous platinum blonde in red leather, vigorously pumped her hips and rode him hard with a strap-on from behind. Every few strokes, she brought down her leather strap with a resounding crack across his already red buttocks. Each lash made Livia wince, but from his hoarse cries of, “More, please, mistress,” he apparently enjoyed.

Still stunned by the blatant sex on display, Livia turned to see David and Emma’s response. Both stood bugged-eyed and slack-jawed in shock. She tugged on Joseph’s hand to get his attention.

When he saw their stupefied expressions, he chuckled. “Did I mention our private dungeon has no restrictions on sex or bare genitals like the public clubs do?”

“Uh, no,” David replied, his lips turning up in a rapt grin. “I think I would have remembered that part.”

“Holy cow,” Emma murmured, trying to recover, but her mouth still stood agape. “David, uh, sir,” she breathed. “If we can’t get a private room for tonight, I might need to visit the bar first.”

Livia giggled. “No worries. Joseph has you covered. He reserved the Sultan’s Chamber for you.” She took her finger and lifted Emma’s chin, but immediately felt open again. “It’s the most popular theme room. I’ve never been, but I’ve heard all about it. You’re gonna love it.”

“Your reservation is in thirty minutes,” Joseph added, “so there’s only time for the nickel tour.”

Walking the circuit, he pointed out the less common pieces of bondage equipment as they made their way to the stairs at the back of the room. After Joseph introduced them to the DM controlling access to the upper level, they parted ways. David leading a giddy Emma upstairs, while Joseph guided Livia to the station he had reserved.

It wasn’t long before he had her stripped and bound to a St. Andrew’s Cross. Instead of facing the eight-foot-tall wooden X, he had restrained her with her back to it, facing the onlookers standing three deep around the station. The only thing that protected her modesty was the minuscule G-string he had provided with her black, sparkly, super-short sheath dress. Livia had no doubt that very soon, they, too, would be history.

As she looked out at the crowd beyond the red velvet ropes, she noted many were younger, thinner, and by her discerning eye, more beautiful. Vaughn’s recent comments about her body and how her excess weight contributed to him dumping her, both long-held self-doubts, clung to her consciousness. Like scars on her soul, they crept to the surface and her anxieties grew.

Reflexively, she pulled at her wrist cuffs, which held firm. Joseph rose from a crouch, where he had been buckling a cuff around her ankle. His observant gaze scanned her face, and he astutely identified her unease. In shirtsleeves and dark trousers, his sport coat and tie discarded for their session, he moved in close. His long hard frame covering the entirety of her much shorter one, hiding her from the curious eyes of the spectators. One hand curled around her hip while the other curled around her nape, his long fingers threading through her hair.

“You’re on edge, little one. A certain amount of apprehension is expected, but you’re working yourself into a panic. Slow your breathing.”

“Can’t we get a room upstairs, master?”

“No, they’re all booked tonight, and we gave ours to David and Emma. Focus on calming your mind, pet.”

“I’m trying.”

“Keep your eyes on me, Livia.”

She looked up, doing as he ordered, but movement behind him had her gaze drifting back to the crowd that had grown and now stood four or five deep on the other side of the ropes.

His fingers in her hair tightened, and the heel of his hand on her jaw turned her face back to his. “What’s this really about?”

Her lashes lowered, not wanting to disappoint him. She shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

---