Page 16 of What About Love

ANGIE SHIFTED. KNEELINGon a stone floor wasn’t the least bit comfortable. Neither was doing so with her hands cuffed behind her back. The leather restraints weren’t too tight but unused to the awkward position her shoulders had stiffened. Her feet were the real problem, however.

Unable to decide what to do with them, she’d curled her toes to help keep her balance. That had become unpleasant really quick. Pointing them hadn’t helped, her weight pressing the bone on the top of her foot painfully into the hard surface. They needed pillows.

Deciding sitting on one cheek would be easier, she shifted to the side a bit. Maybe no one would notice.

“Quit fidgeting,” Dan’s deep voice ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

She’d gotten the requisite response down pat, although she didn’t know if she’d ever get the hang of the rest of this kink and bondage stuff, or if she even wanted to. Watching the scenes had been exhilarating. Okay, maybe not all of them, like the one with the needles. No way. In fact, no fucking way!

For the most part, they were sensually appealing. The subs seemed to enjoy whatever was dished out—restraints, extreme positions, and erotic pain, coming in the form of floggers, paddles, hot wax, clamps, gags, and some obscenely large plugs. Despite having a beet-red ass, some subs screamed for more, others cried out unintelligibly with passion-filled moans, and a few had tears rolling down their cheeks. As they lingered in the playroom, she saw many of them receiving aftercare on one of the many couches, snuggled up on their dom’s lap, smiling or dozing contentedly.

Dan had explained the physiology and psychology of the whole pleasure-pain phenomenon. It was fascinating, though Angie was still having a hard time wrapping her head around it. She didn’t like pain in the least. Case in point, her awkward position at her trainer’s feet. She wasn’t getting a thing out of it, except joint stiffness and muscle aches, and she was afraid any moment her feet would fall asleep.

Full of impatience, she exhaled more loudly than she should have. Then, to restore the blood flow to her toes, she leaned forward. As she did, fingers tightened in her hair, tugging her head back. That was something else. These doms seemed to get off on hairpulling because there was a heck of a lot of it going on. Dan wasn’t rough when he did it, his grip firm, not painful, so she didn’t protest yet.

“Am I boring you, Angela?”

“No, sir.”

“That’s funny. From all that sighing and squirming, I thought we might be.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but my knees hurt and I can’t feel my feet anymore.”

His hands found her waist immediately. “It’s up to you to tell me when something is bothering you, sub,” he growled as he lifted her onto his lap. “That was rule number one.”

She heaved another sigh, this one of relief as she unbent and stretched her legs. The pleasure was short-lived, her bliss-filled moans turning into distressed whimpers as the blood surged back and started circulating once more. She wiggled her toes as she felt the prickling and painful sensations.

“Ooo, ohh... Pins and needles!” Her hands jerked in her cuffs, instinctively trying to get to her feet to rub. Thwarted, she stamped them on the floor, hoping it would bring some ease. The only thing it brought, however, was attention.

“That’s one poorly behaved sub you have there, Master Dan,” a woman seated next to them observed. “And she’s quite loud.”

Angie’s head came up. A small-boned blonde in her early forties, dressed in red leather from her corset to her leather miniskirt, all the way to the tips of her five-inch stiletto thigh-high dominatrix boots, watched her with a frown of disapproval.

“This is only her second day, Lorraine. She’ll learn.”

“Not too quickly, for your sake, I hope.” The mistress’ ruby lips quirked as she gave her a slow head-to-toe, fingering the handle of the whip coiled at her waist as if she were picturing teaching a few lessons of her own.

Swallowing audibly, Angie lowered her gaze from the scary domme. That’s when she noticed the extraordinarily handsome man kneeling at her feet. Also fortyish, he wore nothing more than a collar and a pair of minuscule red briefs, like the kind bodybuilders wear, his ripped physique displayed beautifully. In the low light, his skin glistened with what had to be a thin coat of oil. Less notably than all of that, he maintained his obviously practiced pose without a fidget or a muscle twitch.

Noticing where her attention had strayed, his mistress ran her hand through his dark hair, her red-tipped fingers weaving through the waves at the back and curling into its thickness. They fisted and brought his head back until he was looking up at her.

More with the hairpulling; what the heck was that all about?

“You’d do well to observe my Deacon, girl. He could teach you much about keeping your dominant happy.” Her free hand came up to cup his jaw. Leaning down, with her face next to his, she asked, “Isn’t that right, my obedient boy?”

Amid the hum of conversation, pulse-pounding music, and sounds of erotic torture swirling in the cavernous room, Angie had to strain to hear his husky reply. “I live to please you, mistress.”

Enthralled, she watched as the domme brushed her lips over his, her hand moving to his cheek in a tender caress. The tender gesture surprised her. As she watched them kiss, Angie realized what she was missing with Dan. There was no connection, no spark. It was like playing dress-up with a friend, or worse, her brother.

Since she had two, one older and younger, the idea made her shudder. It also made her wonder if she would feel differently with someone she loved or at least desired, like the male sub obviously did his mistress. His visceral response to her touch and attention was clearly visible from the growing bulge in his tiny, red briefs.

When she turned back to Dan, Angie noticed a slight tremor run through her submissive’s body, conveying the amount of control he was exerting over his body. If she hadn’t been observing him so closely, she would have failed to notice, but she couldn’t miss the contented smile on his lips, or the way his eyes cut to her, and the audacious wink he sent her way.

“Deacon and I are up next on the spanking bench, Dan. Your girl needs it so much more. You may play through while my sweet boy and I watch.”

“Obliged,” he murmured as he set Angie on her feet and rose behind her.

---