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Around them, the gathering of spectators broke out into a smattering of applause, clearly showing their approval of the hot scene. It was the first time she’d heard applause at Black Light and it reminded her of The Pit back home, when the audience always ended each show with their appreciation for the center-stage punishment of the night.
Unlike The Pit, there was no curtain to pull to mark the ending of the show. Instead, the crowd just started to peel away, shuffling off to find another sexy scene to watch or better, an open platform to create their own fun. When Tiffany tried to wriggle free, assuming they too would move on, Lukus hugged her tighter.
His single-word command, “Stay,” felt more like an instruction for a puppy than his wife, but she froze nonetheless. For a few minutes, they just watched as the Dom closed down the scene, untying the spaced-out sub, wrapping her in an oversized towel he pulled from his duffle bag, and then carrying her down the steps to lay her on the closest couch. He produced a bottle of water and knelt next to her for a few minutes to make sure she didn’t go into sub-drop.
Once the sub got up, she kissed the Dom on the cheek and then wandered off towards the ladies’ locker room. Tiff assumed they’d move on, but instead, Lukus brought them closer to the stage, stopping at the foot of the stairs after the Dom returned to the platform to wipe down the soiled equipment.
Lukus’s next one-word command was “Kneel.” Somewhat confused, she slipped gracefully to her knees, wishing Black Light had a more padded floor than the industrial type carpeting that would get uncomfortable if she stayed down there too long.
She tried to hold her submissive pose, but snuck peeks through her eyelashes watching the Dom putting all of his toys back in his bag. It was when he stood at the top of the steps with them blocking the exit from the platform that her anxiety spiked. Both men had crossed their arms over their chest in a defensive move, silently sizing each other up.
The dark-haired Dom spoke first. “You waiting for the platform?”
Lukus shot out a short, “No.”
“Okay… then can you move so I can let someone else take the space?”
Tiffany started to move, but her husband’s hand clamped down on her shoulder, holding her on her knees.
What the hell are you up to, Lukus? Is this about the guy winking at me?
Surely a simple wink wouldn’t cause the Master’s Master to lose his temper?
“I don’t know what the hell your problem is,” the guy said as he moved away from the platform’s steps and jumped the few feet to the floor.
She hoped he would just walk away, but like the man gripping her shoulder, the Dom in front of her seemed like he was ready for a confrontation. By the time he stopped advancing on them, the guy’s zippered groin was only a few inches in front of her own face as she knelt between the two dominant men.
She may not have been able to see their faces, but she had a front-row seat to hear what was said between them.
The Dom clearly had a death wish as he taunted her husband. “What’s your problem, asshole?”
“I got no problem, but you might,” Lukus rumbled.
Tiff was shocked to hear a short burst of laughter from the man inches in front of her. “Hell yes, I do have a few problems, but you’re not one of them. Not unless you’re looking for a fight. They don’t take kindly to boxing at Black Light.”
A few long seconds passed before Lukus answered. “I’m not looking for a fight, no. More like a… challenge.”
“What kind of challenge?” She heard skepticism in the guy’s deep voice.
Her mind raced, trying to read between the lines in the cryptic conversation.
“Let’s just say, I’m used to being the one center stage at my club. I enjoyed your scene, but I’m thinking you getting your sub off was just a fluke. I find myself wondering if you could get another sub off with just punishment alone. And to up the ante, I’d play too, and we can see who gets our sub across the finish line first. Unless you’re a one-sub guy and your girl is done for the night?”
“Oh no, I don’t even know that chick’s real name. I just know her as The Masochist and she’s been waiting to play with me.”
“So, what’s the problem? You shoot your whole wad for the night already?” Lukus was taunting the guy. She heard it in his voice.
“You some kinda whacko who has some kind of competition kink? I mean, I’m not one to kink-shame, but that’s pretty fucked up.”
Once again, she heard Lukus chuckle above her. “You have some set of balls on you, I grant you that. No. No competition kink. But, yeah, I guess the second you winked at my wife, we were bound to butt heads.”
The guy in front of her burst out laughing at Lukus. Tiffany panicked. She tried to push up to her feet, but Lukus pressed her shoulders harder, holding her down as the guy in front of her continued provoking her husband.
“Since when is winking at a sub across the room a crime at Black Light? You can’t handle a little flirting when I notice a smoking hot submissive, maybe you should just stay home. You bring a juicy specimen like blondie here out in public and you need to expect some admiring looks. She’s collared. Hell, leashed. I’m not a moron. I didn’t touch her.”
“You’d better not.”
Several long seconds went buy. Tiffany wished she could see the men’s faces, but she couldn’t from her vantage point.
