Page 47 of Breaking Free

“Forget what I said,” he replied, his tone firm. “I’m going to give you a taste of what BDSM and the lifestyle are all about. Just remember that you asked for it. Follow me.” He didn’t give her a choice. His fingers encircled her wrist as he pulled her down the steps in a blink, heading toward the playroom.

“Wait,” she protested. “What about—”

“I’ve got Josie,” Axyl called, answering her unfinished question.

Tristan heard his temporary neighbor, who had known him much longer than Piper, inquire, “She’ll be okay with him, won’t she?”

“She did not just ask that,” Tristan muttered irritably.

“It’s a valid question. It’s not like you’re happy about any of this.”

He whirled on her so fast, she skidded to a halt to avoid plowing into him. His fingers encircled her upper arms, steadying her. “Let’s get something straight here and now. You will always be safe with me. I don’t need to be happy to be a good dominant. Is that understood?”

More experienced subs than her backed down under the intensity of his glare. Not Piper. She stood her ground, licked her lips, then replied haltingly, “It’s...understood. But...”

“Now is the time to say what you have to.”

“Um... Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I don’t belong here.”

His mixed messages had confused her. Hell, they confused him. Like just now, when she was almost out the door and he stopped her. But the idea of her in a public club, prey surrounded by predators, was unthinkable. If his words of warning didn’t convince her, he’d give her more than a glimpse of his world so she would see she was in over her head.

“Are you using your safeword?”

Piper returned his gaze, mouth set mulishly, as sweet as she was stubborn.

Then something occurred to him. “You do know what a safeword is, don’t you?”

“I read the rules before signing,” she said with a nod.

“Then end this now, or we’ll follow through on this course you’ve set us on.”

He counted to five in his head, a remarkably long time, actually. He set them into motion again when she said nothing, leading her through the towering playroom doors and down the steps to the main floor. It was packed—recruiting events always were. They merged with the circuit traffic, and he scanned the various scenes in progress until he found one that would illustrate how dark the dungeon could get.

The group of members and guests looking on from outside the ropes was large, and it took some maneuvering to get Piper to the front row. He heard her sharply indrawn breath at her first glimpse of the scene. Mistress Kara had her sub, Allen, naked and bound to the St. Catherine’s wheel. The quirt was an extension of her wrist and landed with stinging accuracy on his chest, abs, and thighs as he slowly revolved. The metal cage around his cock and balls provided protection but would be painful if he became aroused, which Allen was.

Although he’d watched this type of scene play out many times over the years, he had to steel himself not to cringeat the medieval-looking torture device around the man’s most vulnerable parts. Allen didn’t seem to mind though. With every swish of the quirt, he answered with a moan. From the redness of his skin, he had been up there for quite some time, too.

Tristan dipped his head to whisper in her ear. “You need to understand that BDSM is not for the faint of heart.”

When the tail of the quirt connected with his thighs, a strident cry rose from his lips, “Mercy, mistress!”

She snorted in response. “You’ve been a very naughty boy. Give me a reason to be merciful.”

“Because you love me, mistress. But not half as much as I love and respect you.”

“That didn’t seem to be the case earlier. Who’s in charge tonight?” Kara asked.

With another well-aimed flick, a bright-red line appeared across Allen’s lower abdomen, just above the trembling cage. His groan, deep and long, clearly from pleasure as much as pain, mingled with the rattle of the metal cuffs embedded securely in the wood as his body arched sharply off the wheel.

“He’s actually enjoying this,” Piper whispered in amazement.

He gave her a little background on the couple. “They’re married and have been in the lifestyle for years. They have both dom and sub qualities and alternate topping each other, which makes them what we call switches. They are competitive as well as creative with their punishments. I’m guessing Allen forgot his place and tried to exert his dominance when it wasn’t his turn, which is the reason for this little reminder.”

“Are you...”

“A switch?” He grunted. “Hardly. And CBT isn’t my kink.”

“CBT?”

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