Page 63 of Jackson
“It’s time to go and find Connor. I want some nice bruises on that pretty ass of yours when I pound into you tonight, my sweet slave,” Henry told his partner.
Jackson watched as Lincoln morphed into his submissive persona then followed the couple to the room where Connor would do the whipping.
Connor had roped off an area around the St. Andrew’s cross on the third floor, so he could safely wield his whip. If the swing were hindered, it could be dangerous for both bystanders and participants, and Connor wasn’t one to take chances. He was warming up, and the cracking of the whip sounded ominous, although from the color of Suzie’s cheeks, she was highly aroused.
Connor halted his whip swinging, rolled his shoulders, and moved his head from side to side. He went over to Suzie and took her mouth in a long kiss, before taking a nipple in his mouth. Meanwhile, Henry led Lincoln to the cross and attached him with practiced efficiency. A squeak from Suzie pulled Jackson’s attention to the other pair in the room. Connor had attacheda nipple clamp to her right breast and was now preparing her left nipple. From the sounds she made he wasn’t delicate about it, and the clamps looked vicious. How would Paula react to clamps, and would he ever discover the answer to that question? She seemed to enjoy breast play, and her nipples would look beautiful, either clamped or pierced. Jackson had to adjust himself in his leathers at that thought.
Another squeak brought him back to the scene in front of him. Connor was tugging on a chain that led from Suzie’s breasts to her crotch. Jackson narrowed his eyes. Oh, wow, Connor had attached a clamp to her clit as well, and now he was teasing the chain that connected the clamps. Suzie was panting and sweating, but when Connor stroked her pussy, his hand came away glistening with her wetness.
Connor’s cheeks creased as he rose with a final, playful tug and sauntered over to Lincoln.
Henry had warmed up his slave's buttocks with bare-handed slaps, and the guy’s ass cheeks glowed with pink and red handprints. Connor swiped his hand over the man’s back and butt and nodded to Henry, who walked away after a last kiss.
Connor stepped away from the shackled slave and uncoiled his whip from his belt. With the whip handle in his dominant hand, he held the end in his other while circling the naked man on the cross. He flicked the whip over and over against Lincoln’s quivering flesh until the man was moaning and wiggling.
Connor halted and signaled for the other Master, and as Henry reached Lincoln, he snaked his hand around to his front. “Is your cock betraying you? Why are you hard? Is my slutty boy getting off on getting his ass beaten?”
Jackson couldn’t hear Lincoln’s reaction, but his Master seemed to think he could have more. Henry nodded to Connor and moved away as Connor resumed the dance of the whip over Lincoln’s back and butt until the flesh was bright red.
As always, Connor’s skill with the whip impressed Jackson. He’d never break the skin, and if these marks bruised, they’d be gone in a few days. The strokes were grouped around Lincoln’s shoulders and on his buttocks and legs, not one hit landing in an area where impact toys could do serious damage, like the kidneys.
Again, Connor signaled for Henry, and the Master seemed satisfied with the scene, because both men quickly untied him.
Henry led Lincoln over to the sawhorse in the corner and bent Lincoln over it. He opened his leathers, rolled a condom over his impressive length then took the time to lube Lincoln’s asshole. The slave struggled to hold himself still, and with a tug on Lincoln’s leash, the man arched his back. Lincoln’s breath hitched, and his fingers curled around the edge of the sawhorse, as he braced himself.
Henry drove forward with a hard thrust, and Lincoln cried out. His back arched, muscles tightening as he struggled to take the sudden intrusion. But he didn’t pull away. He pressed back. His hips shifted, his thighs quivering with need. A low moan escaped him. The sound held a bit of pain, surrender, and greedy want.
Jackson’s jaw clenched.
The way Lincoln fully, visibly, shamelessly yielded to Henry lit a fire in his gut. He could picture Melda in that position. Could almost feel her body opening for him, her breath catching as he breached her. How would she react to his cock there, thick and stretching her to the edge of pleasure and pain? Would she press back like Lincoln, desperate for more? Would she gasp, moan, beg?
He exhaled sharply, trying to will away the image, but it clung to him like heat. Would he ever get the chance to try?
His thoughts were interrupted by the crack of the whip. Jackson swung his head back in time to see Connor working up and down the still unmarked skin on Suzie’s back and bottom.
She moaned and lifted her butt into the strikes that rained down on her, and a purple device protruded from between Suzie’s legs. Her clever husband had probably shoved a vibrator in her cunt on a setting high enough to keep her aroused and low enough to keep her from coming anytime soon.
As Connor drove Suzie higher and higher with well-placed hits, the grunts and groans from both Lincoln and Henry had Jackson shift uneasily in his chair. He hadn’t gotten off since Paula walked out of his life, and his dick was harder than the rocks of Caradhras.
Suzie keened her orgasm as Connor changed his hold on the whip and angled it so he’d hit Suzie between her legs.
Jackson rose to help Connor unshackle her from the cross. He couldn’t do anything about his discomfort, but he could make himself useful. Jackson would do the cleaning, while Connor tended to his wife and sub. “Take Suzie. I’ll take care of this.”
Connor thanked him and hoisted his woman in his arms.
Henry was using Lincoln’s perched-over position to rub his marks with salve, and Jackson could smell the pine–sage from the arnica in it.
Jackson rubbed the cross clean with the disposable wipes that were available in every room of the club, while Henry and Connor tended to their partners. It was nice to be part of a community, but Jackson missed his Melda. He mused on how nice it would have been to engage in some aftercare of his own as he headed over to the sawhorse to finish cleaning.
CHAPTER THIRTY
After months of work, the Drug Interdiction squad was no closer to shutting down the local meth labs. Although they had located two, both had been abandoned, and Captain Lacey was beginning to suspect a leak somewhere in the department. Regardless, they were still checking all leads, no matter how slim. Today, Jackson and Will were following yet another tip from Zach. He’d given them three before that had all been dead ends. Will had argued that they shouldn’t bother with him again, but Jackson wanted to try once more. This time, something seemed different about him. They were headed to an address on The Paseo that had not yet been redeveloped. The house looked rundown, and the yard was dirty and overgrown with weeds. They parked down the block and put on their vests and comm units before getting out of the car.
A child of about five was playing with a small truck in the front yard, and as soon as he saw them, he grabbed his toy and ran toward the back of the house.
Will started to turn around. “Where are you going? We haven’t checked the house yet,” Jackson said.
“No one is stupid enough to cook meth with a kid in the house,” Will countered.
