Why the hell did that excite me?
I scaled the steps to the second floor, then the third. The door to the main bedroom had a red ribbon tied around the doorknob. It meant,scene in progress, do not disturb. Benefits to being the club owner; I entered anyway.
Ophelia’s moans hit my ears, and immediately, my blood diverted from my brain to my groin.
The sound of her pleasure cured me of all my ills. It was better than daylight. Whatever stress and heaviness I’d carried through the week fled in an instant. Alexander’s ghosts were gone.
Here—now—I was nothing but hers.
God, I chased that feeling.
My eyes adjusted to the dim light and the scene that unfolded in front of me was a wonderfully depraved sight to behold.
The room was centered around a custom king-sized bed with an elaborate frame. Ophelia was bound to an O-ring hook bolted into the ceiling. Her body was stretched long, her arms tiedtogether above her head as though she was reaching for the sky. Her eyes were blindfolded, but her expression was twisted in ecstasy, those full lips open and emitting small, needy moans as Zero and Jekyll worked her into a frenzy.
Zero didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. He was on his back, hands and feet cuffed to the bedframe. He wore nothing but a leather mask, which only muffled the pleasured sounds that left him as Ophelia rode his cock, wiggling and twisting over him.
Jekyll knelt at the foot of the bed. She’d dropped the baseboard so she had full access to Ophelia. Head bowed between her legs, Jekyll gripped Ophelia’s thighs and worked Ophelia into a trembling mess with her tongue.
It was something to watch, the way Ophelia writhed between the two, overloaded with pleasure and yet?—
She wouldn’t cum. She couldn’t. Not without me.
My conditioning had trained her far too well for that. They could fuck her and lick her all night and she still wouldn’t be able to do anything but whine and hang on the edge.
And, for a moment, I let her suffer in it.
I owned this place, but Ophelia was the queen. People loved her. Respected her. Wanted her. I never had to worry about her being lonely, or unhappy, or un-fucked. Here, she could have it all. I thought I’d built this club for myself. I was wrong.
It was hers.
Moments like these reminded me of that. It warmed something in that place where I used to have a heart. And made me unbearably, agonizingly hard.
The door clicked shut behind me. Jekyll lifted her head at the sound. She turned, licking her shiny lips, and blinked in surprise, but relaxed when she saw that it was only me.
I gave her a small, quiet nod. We spent a minute conferring telepathically (yes, this is something that all dominants can doonce they know each other well enough). The conversation went something like:
Me: Your scene, your rules. Mind if I step in?
Jekyll: Your sub, your rules. Knock yourself out.
Me: Thank you. Delicious, isn’t she?
Jekyll: Sweet as sin.
Jekyll gave me a smile, then returned to her onslaught on Ophelia’s sensitive sex. Ophelia whimpered, and the sound nearly undid me.
Quietly, I stepped forward. She was naked, her breasts were exposed, and a delicate chain hung from two clamps, one for each nipple. The sadistic Jekyll had outdone herself.
Ophelia’s cheeks were blood-blushed. I moved my hand a hairsbreadth away from the sweat on her abdomen. Without touching her, I drew my fingers up. I could feel the heat emanating from her body. Wordlessly, I took her by the chin, securing her in my grip.
Was I being an asshole in this moment?
Yes.
But did I also love the way she gasped in surprise, tilted her chin up towards me like a sunflower hunting for daylight, and whimpered in that way that told me her cunt just got tighter?
Also, yes.
