[Siren Sensations: Consensual BDSM Contemporary Romantic Comedy Romance, MF, MFM elements involving only secondary characters, bondage, spanking, sex toys, HEA]
Run a BDSM club, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.
The group of friends and volunteers who keep Venture’s doors open know it’s not all fun and games when it comes to operating a BDSM club.
Because life always has an annoying way of getting in the way of their “fun.”
Whether or not they can maintain their sanity and keep having fun remains to be seen.
Marcia watched as, about ten minutes into eating, Loren grabbed her phone and angrily jabbed her finger at the screen before putting it to her ear. “Red, asshole,” she said. “Turn it off, now, or I’m taking it out and flushing it down the goddamned toilet in the bathroom. … Okay, fine. Turn it off, now, Master, or I’m flushing the goddamned thing and adding it to the list with markers and Christmas trees. … Thank you.”
Loren hung up on him and dropped her phone into her purse while everyone else burst out laughing.
“Motherfucker,” she muttered.
Marcia shook her head. “You’re going to pay for that later.”
“Oh, I know I will, but he knows he pushed me too far. Hey, I rarely safeword for shit like this. If he doesn’t want to lose his toys, he needs to respect a few boundaries.” She shifted in her seat. “And I’m gonna kill Gilo next time I see him, Ab.”
Abbey laughed. “I’d offer to put him in SAM mode and let you take a few whacks at him, but he’d enjoy it. It’s a lose-lose for you. And he’d probably give Ross more kinky ideas to use on you as payback.”
“Motherfucker!” Loren griped.
“So, hey, any news on Mal?” Shayla asked.
The table fell silent and everyone looked at Leah.
She shrugged. “Seth hasn’t talked to Kel since right before the Halloween party, sorry.”
Loren sat back. “I guess that puts life into perspective,” she said. “I wish we could do something for them. I feel so fucking…helpless.”
After suffering a miscarriage, Mal had developed a life-threatening eating disorder and lost a dangerous amount of weight. They were still struggling to get it under control, and she was being treated on an inpatient basis at a special facility up in Tampa that treated food disorders. They made a brief appearance at the Halloween party two weeks ago, and everyone had been shocked by her gaunt appearance. Although, according to Kel, she’d actually gained a little weight from when she’d been at her absolute worst.
“I know,” June said. “Believe me, I know from experience that all we can do is what we’re doing—offering to be there for them. Kel will tell us if there’s anything we can do for them.”
“She was so fucking skinny,” Marcia said. “We’re trying not to bug Kel because I know he feels guilty about not helping out after they went in with us as partners, but damn.”
“Yeah,” Cali quietly said. “Best not to. We don’t want to lose them altogether. We’re one of the few safe places either of them have.”
“How’s Essie and the baby, anyway?” Abbey asked.
“Doing well,” Cali said. “I think she’s seriously considering drugging the guys and wrapping rubber bands around their testicles to castrate them, to keep her from ever getting pregnant again.”
Eliza started laughing, almost to the point of choking.
“It wasn’t that funny,” Cali said.
She shook her head, still laughing. “No…” She snorted. “I used rubber bands on the barbarian’s balls last night!”
Abbey rolled her eyes. “Didn’t need to know that fact, but thank you for the idea to threaten Gilo with in the future.”
Once they finished breakfast and left to go their separate ways, Marcia got back in her car and headed for the warehouse store to do the shopping for the club. It wasn’t like the supplies just magically appeared there.
People had no clue how much work it was to keep a club running like this. Well, everyone at breakfast knew damn well how much work it took, because they were her friends and part of the core group of volunteers. She and Derrick knew there was no way they could have kept Venture running and thriving for as long as they had without everyone’s help. It really was a group project. Fortunately, they were going to be able to take tonight off and chill at home, but they still had things to do to help keep it running.
It wasn’t all work, though. It was satisfying to have this place for them and their friends, a safe, clean facility that wasn’t risking anyone’s home, or a citation for zoning violations for noise or parking.
Damn you, Kaden. Why’d you have to die on us? It’s not fair you aren’t around to see what we’ve done. You should be a part of this, too.
When she finished that she headed for the club and was relieved to find Derrick there and taking measurements on the new side.
“Hey, Mister Master. Want to help a slave out with schlepping groceries?” she called from the door leading from the office.
He smiled and walked over. “I suppose I can help you.” He gave her a kiss and delivered a playful swat to her ass. “How was breakfast?” He followed her outside to Marcia’s car.
“Good. When did you get here?”
“A few minutes ago. I’m just starting measuring.”
“We have a suggestion…” Marcia told him about their idea for leaving the one corner bare of carpet tiles, and he nodded.
“Yeah, I like that plan, too,” Derrick said. “I’ll still order plenty of extras in case we ever need to replace any. We can put down linoleum or something in that corner.”
Once they had the car unloaded, Derrick locked the office door and smiled at her, waggling a finger. “How about getting appropriately attired?”
She glared at him. “Seriously?”
He arched an eyebrow at her and waited.
They didn’t have any early classes today, and weren’t expecting anyone for at least four hours. Grumbling, she started pulling off her shirt as she walked back into the dungeon to go put the groceries away in the kitchen area. After stripping down to her wedding ring and day collar, she got busy in the kitchen.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he said as he walked over.
“Hey, you want play time, I need to get this shit done first, Mister Master. Go finish your stuff, then we can play.”
One of the benefits about owning a dungeon was that despite the rules prohibiting sex, if they were alone and had the door locked, they could have sex if they wanted to.
Sometimes, if their week at work was crazy, especially in tax season, since they ran a CPA firm, the only times they got to have sex were at the club during off-hours, when they arrived early to clean or do maintenance.
Or put away groceries.
He delivered a smack to her ass that held more sting than the previous one. “Listen, wench, that’s Mister Master Sir, to you, you mouthy thing.” He grinned.
She rose up onto her toes to kiss him. “Then go fucking finish your shit, Mister Master Poobah Sir.”
“You’re awfully mouthy for a slave. You know that?”
“And you’re awfully mouthy for a guy who wants to get laid in a few minutes.”
He thought about it. “Fair point.” He grinned and brushed another kiss across her lips before turning and heading back to the new side.
Derrick loved that after twenty-plus years of marriage, he and Marcia could still find playful joy in their dynamic. He refused to take himself too seriously. Sure, he knew there were a few people who didn’t know him and Marcia well and who thought she was a “brat,” but that was the farthest thing from the truth.
Yes, she was his slave, but in the ways he wanted her to be. Outside of that, which, frankly, wasn’t anybody else’s fucking business but theirs, Marcia was her own person, complete with the spark and fire that kept their relationship going.
A hard damn thing to do when they already had one business they ran together and hadn’t divorced over it yet.
Add in a “hobby” business that was every bit as much work, and yeah, they were lucky.
He took her hand and, after snagging a blanket from the rack of them, he led her over to one of the couches earmarked for aftercare.
He put her on her hands and knees on the couch, her head to his left, and slowly stripped his leather belt out of his jeans.
He might have had this exact scenario in mind when he was getting dressed.
Fisting Marcia’s long, brown hair in his left hand, he let the belt trail over her back and ass as he teased her with it, ran his fingers through her pussy and felt how wet she was, slipped one into her cunt and slowly fucked her with it before withdrawing it and patting her on the ass.
“Quick one so we can get to the fun part, huh?”
“Who says this isn’t the fun part, Sir?” she teased.
“My smart girl, you might be right.” He took the first stroke with the belt against her ass, then teased her with his fingers, back and forth, enjoying every moan she gave him in response, pleasure and pain entwined and both that much sweeter for it.
In his jeans, his cock ached the way it always did when they played.
This never got old, either, the fire between them.
When he took too long between strokes, she’d playfully wiggle her ass at him, prompting him to give her an extra-hard smack with the belt.
Finally, when his cock couldn’t take it any longer, he dropped the belt and unfastened his jeans, climbing up behind her so he could fuck her like this. He easily slid home inside her pussy and the deep, needy groan she gave him meant he had to hold still for a moment or risk shooting almost immediately.
Lightly raking his nails down her back gave him a moment to breathe and regroup. “Such a good girl you are for me,” he said. “You take such good care of me, and this place, and I love you so much.”
She tried to rock back against him and get him moving, but he clamped down on her hips and held her in position. “No, you don’t,” he playfully said. “You just wait until I’m ready.”
“Dammit,” she groaned. “You fucking sadist.”
“That’s Mister Master Poobah Fucking Sadist Sir, to you, girl.”
She started laughing—full on snorts that made him smile and gave him extra time to get his willful cock under control.
He pulled out and flipped her over onto her back, her legs over his shoulders. Like this, he could stare down into her sweet brown eyes and watch her come undone for him. He sat up and played with her clit. “Mouthy little thing today,” he said as he played with her, knowing exactly what buttons to push with her, what to do to make her make the noises he loved.
“Mouthy for you.”
“Better only be mouthy for me.”
Marcia looked like she wanted to say more, but then she bit down on her lower lip and tried to arch her back to rock her hips against him.
She was close.
He focused on her, wanting to get her over, loving the way she only let go for him.
That was the true power he held—that he didn’t have to force her to stay with him.
That he was able to keep her happy and willingly with him, wanting to be with him, wanting him and only him.
Who wanted a slave forced to do anything? A sociopath?
No, thank you.
He didn’t want a doormat—he wanted a partner who was strong enough to stand up to him and keep him on his toes.
When she started coming, he felt her pussy squeezing around his cock first before her eyes fell shut and the moans began. He leaned in and kissed her, loving the way she greedily held his head in place and moaned into his mouth while he felt every quiver rolling through her cunt.
He could do that to her.
That was power, too.
Only once he was certain she’d finished did he start moving, fucking her hard and fast and knowing he wouldn’t last long now. She stared up at him with a sweetly hooded gaze as he felt himself tip over the edge and pumped every drop of cum in his balls into her before falling still so he could kiss her again.
Her fingers ruffled through his hair, massaging his scalp, nails gently raking. She nuzzled noses with him. “Management’s gonna throw us out,” she softly teased. “Rule violation.”
He smiled. “Lucky thing I know a guy, huh?”