Marcia stared at her husband.
She’d been silently staring at him for well over a minute.
To be honest, it sort of had him a little concerned.
Um, okay, a lot concerned.
“Well, say something,” Derrick finally said to break the uncomfortable silence and tension more than anything.
“All right.” She cocked her head at him, her eyes narrowing. “Are you out of your goddamned mind?”
Finally. “No, it makes sense. You said yourself it’d be nice to have a play space here in the area, instead of having to hoof it all the way up to Tampa or Orlando to one of the clubs up there.”
She blinked, staring. Finally, “I didn’t mean you should open one.”
She not only arched an eyebrow at him, but she cocked her head in the other direction and planted her hands on her hips.
“We?” she asked after another long, uncomfortable silence.
“Yes. We.” He pulled her into his arms. “We, because someone said they wanted to be my slave, and agreed to it when we got married.” He reached up and gently fisted her hair, tipping her head back so he could nibble along the base of her throat.
Playing dirty to get her close to subspace, yes, he’d admit it.
But if it got her to agree to this, he didn’t care.
“Otherwise,” he said, “we’ll just have to keep having house parties. And we won’t be able to hold classes like we’ve talked about. Or have the kinky community center that we’ve always dreamed about.”
She sighed. “Okay, fine.” She managed to look up at him. “That’s sooo not fair you playing the Master card and dropping me into subspace to get your way.”
He grinned. “Who said anything about me being fair?”
“Not me.” She rested her head against his chest. “So when is our first party?”
“A week from this coming Saturday.”
She stared up at him. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“No. We’ve got people who will bring play furniture. Everyone will bring their own folding chairs. The unit has working AC, and we’ve got someone bringing sound equipment we can borrow. It already has bathrooms. And a couple of people are going to bring some work lights so we don’t have to keep the house lights up. Kaden’s going to loan us some of his Christmas lights. We can tack them up on the walls for mood lighting.”
“This sounds like a permanent situation.”
“It is, sort of. We’ll hold two parties a month, for now. Nothing serious.” He made her look him in the eye. “Not a full-time job,” he assured her.
“Famous last words,” she muttered.
“The place has bathrooms, and no, it’s not pretty, but it’s functional. Hey, it means we don’t have to agonize over the guest lists anymore and leave people off. It also means no one’s home is in jeopardy, and it completely resolves the parking issues. It means we don’t need to try to find a hotel to start hosting these parties.”
“What about the lease? Whose name is it going in?”
“Ed and Kaden will look into drawing up an LLC for me to put it in. And Kel’s the landlord. So it’s not like it’s going to be a problem with him. We’re going to call it something innocuous.”
“Thank god we own our own business,” she said. She wasn’t an accountant, but she managed the office for Derrick and the three CPAs and four accountants working under him. “I’d hate to think how the shit would hit the fan if you were still working for Dad and this got out.” She stared at him. “What if news of this does get out?”
He shrugged. “So?”
“You don’t think that could cause problems?”
“Anyone? Everyone? Our families?”
“There’s nothing to get out,” he said. “We aren’t going to allow alcohol, so there’s no risk of problems there. Kaden and Ed have a standard waiver for everyone to sign. And everyone will be over eighteen.”
“What if someone gets hurt?”
He laughed. “Isn’t that the point?”
“The nonconsensual, unintended kind of hurt, doofus. The kind of hurt that could get the pants sued off of us and make the newspapers.”
“Liability insurance for space. It’s a rented space. It’s not like there are assets. Something happens, we simply close everything down. The only money we’ll keep in the bank account will be just enough for the insurance, rent, and utilities every month.”
“And we are not paying those out of our own pocket.”
“At first, we are, actually. We’ll ask people to donate. If someone doesn’t donate, they won’t get invited back. Easy-peasy.”
“Will Kaden and Ed pay our legal costs, or work for us pro bono, if we get sued?” she drawled.
“We’ll be fine. It’s just a playspace.”
“Uh-huh. Famous last words. You never do anything half-assed.”
He smiled. “No, I just like doing you bare-assed.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, earning him an eye roll and a groan.
“You’re damn lucky I’m not switchy. I should beat you for that comment.”
“Look, how long as everyone been saying we needed a space for the group to play in? Well, this is perfect. Tony can’t put his name on it, or he would have done it. Kaden and Ed need to watch their reps because they’re attorneys, so their names can’t be on it.”
“Why can’t Kel put his name on this?”
“He’s got enough on his plate as it is. He offered to be the front man for it, but that’s not fair to him to make him shoulder the entire burden like that. Hell, he owns the building. He’s got enough skin in the game. That’s too much liability for him. If they can show he knows what happens there, it opens him up. As the landlord, he’s limited.”
“Lucky him. What about Scrye, then?”
“June teaches kids’ gymnastics,” he said. “He can personally absorb a PR hit, but she can’t. And they’ve got two kids still in school. We don’t have any kids.”
“Wrong,” she said. “It looks like we do. Its name is…what the hell is its name, anyway?”
He shrugged. “We haven’t got that far yet. Doesn’t matter what we call the club itself, really.”
“Well, I suggest Venture.”
She poked him in the stomach. “Because it is a venture, dummy. Not exactly one I’d thought we’d be taking, but that’s exactly what it is. And it sounds innocuous. You call it ‘Club Spanking Asses’ or ‘Cock Torture Is Us,’ and it might draw unwanted attention.”
“Good point.” He pulled her close again. “Venture. I like that. The more I think about it, the more I like it.”
He stood up and grabbed her by the hips, grinding against her. “Someone’s going to go to sleep with a nice red ass.”
Her fingers curled, fisting the sheets. He felt her trying to arch her back and rock her hips against him for more traction.
He nudged her feet wider apart and folded his body over hers. Pulling her hair away from the nape of her neck, he brushed kisses across her flesh there, making her shiver.
Then, he nipped, making her let out a soft cry of need. He knew if he reached between her legs right then that he’d find her pussy drenched already.
“Who’s my good girl?” he whispered in her left ear.
Yep, subspace achieved. He could hear it in her voice. Just the act of putting her cuffs and collar on usually put her most of the way there. And a nip on the nape of the neck?
She almost always sank like a rock into subspace.
He straightened and started stripping, making sure she heard it when he slowly slid his belt out of the loops of his jeans. He laid it on her back, lengthways, with the end hanging off her ass and brushing against her pussy.
Yes, she loved that, too. It would be used on her soon enough. He didn’t buy a belt unless he could also spank her with it. Every belt he owned had been used at least once on her flesh, when they brought it home from the store. She would kneel, kiss the buckle, and work her entire way down the length of it, kissing it, before he laid her over the end of the bed and he used it on her.
One more sneaky trigger to get her wet for him. Plenty of times in the past when they’d been somewhere, especially with others, and they’d been standing there as a couple, he’d drawn her arm around his waist and then hooked her fingers under his belt.
What? It looked like an endearing gesture between a couple in love.
Only he knew, while standing there, with his arm draped around her shoulders, that she was having a hard time keeping her knees locked so she didn’t drop to them next to him. That her pussy would be wet, her clit throbbing, and that she damn well knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
She called him the good kind of evil.
He took that as a compliment.
Once he was naked, he grabbed her by both ass cheeks again and squeezed, hard, enjoying her moan of pain and pleasure all rolled into one as she tried to stay still. He started spanking her bare-handed at first, with his right hand, the left planted squarely in the middle of her back and keeping the belt in place, too.
All the while, her toes curled, her knees flexing and straightening a little as she struggled not to start dancing in place, trying to stay still for him. Wanting to stay still for him as he increased the tempo and force of his strokes. Until just before he knew she was about to safeword, he stopped.
Her chest rose and fell, her body trembling.
Then he slowly picked up the belt and with the buckle in his hand, took several turns around his fist with it.
He started out lightly slapping her pussy with it, not enough to hurt but enough to make her moan as he teased her.
Then across her ass, both cheeks, hard enough to leave marks and make her cry out in pain.
“You know the rules,” he said. “You can safeword, if you want.”
She shook her head, her hands balled into tight fists. She hated to safeword. Sometimes, he’d deliberately push her hard enough he knew she’d have to safeword, just to comfort her and reward her when she did to reinforce that he didn’t have a problem with it. Somehow, she’d gotten it into her mind that not safewording was a badge of courage, when he’d insisted it wasn’t. And she even preached to newbies that safewording was good and encouraged.
She just didn’t practice what she preached.
She couldn’t even tell him why she was like that. And even several months of aggravating her by stopping well before she was ready for him to stop didn’t break her of the habit, either. After their years together, he’d given up trying to find the reason. As long as he knew he could read her body and not push her to a bad point, he’d decided it wasn’t worth struggling over. It wasn’t like she played with anyone else, only him.
He used the belt on her for nearly ten minutes. Slow, deliberate strokes that would mark her and leave bruises for several days, making her happy.
Then he switched to the riding crop, leaving welts up and down the backs of both thighs.
Finally, the paddle.
Her body tensed. She hated the paddle, any paddle, but also loved them. Because she knew after the paddle would come the pleasure.
For his part, his cock was hard, dripping. A couple of times he’d had to pause, catch a drop of pre-cum from the head before it fell and hit the floor, and reached around to her lips for her to lick it from his fingers.
She flinched when he laid the cool wood of the paddle across both of her flaming hot ass cheeks. “Ready?”
“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled, deep in subspace. She would absolutely sleep good tonight when they finished.
He took several teasing, light test swings, mostly because he enjoyed watching her tense and flinch, her knowing he was doing it deliberately because he enjoyed the mind fuck.
Finally, the real thing. The crack of the paddle landing against her flesh, and her head shot up, a howl escaping her, but no safeword. He repeated it on her other side, back and forth, slow, steady strokes, until she was sobbing and squirming and struggling to stand still.
That’s when he put the paddle down, stepped between her legs, and fed his cock into her ready pussy with one hard, deep thrust.