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1
I’m not sure how a woman like Margaux slid under my radar for as long as she did. According to Whisper at the front desk, Margaux had been playing with her “toys” for at least a year. A full year, and somehow, she and I never crossed paths. Of course, my year had been anything but normal. However, I’d kept up a fairly regular attendance at Club Sin.
The moment I saw her stomping across the club in that midnight blue satin teddy and those leather thigh-high boots, I couldn’t imagine how she’d never landed on my radar. She commanded the attention of everyone she walked past. Regal. That was a perfect word for her. She held no crop, no whip, nothing that would make people stop and take notice, yet each table or group of chatting members she came into contact with became ensnared. A Domme in every sense of the word. Quietly confident. She knew what she wanted and made no secret of her desire.
She headed upstairs toward Room 20. Whisper already filled me in that was her regular haunt. A closed playroom. The schedule said she wasn’t a regular on the demonstration circuit. There was no hope she would bring her “pets” outside for any kind of public session.
“Anyone catch your eye?” Master Royce, one of my closest friends at the club, set his beer down, and took a seat on the stool next to me.
I shook my head, despite my eyes drifting up toward Room 20. She caught my eye, sure, but a Domme and Dom? That was a train wreck of heartbreak, just waiting to happen.
“Margaux?” He chuckled. “Are you sure you aren’t a masochist? The amount of pain you willingly walk into, man.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Except I did. Fucking Brooklyn. I still couldn’t find all the remnants of my shredded insides. Two forceful personalities can sometimes be a recipe for disaster. Then have them both like to top? All the hot, angry sex in the world couldn’t stand up to the never-ending roller coaster of two people continually locked in a battle of wills. I loved her. But by the end we were both battle weary and raising the white flag had felt like relief. However, the battlefield that was my heart still smoked from all the scorched earth.
“Margaux isn’t what you need, Gideon. That would be a war zone from day one. A no rules cage match, full of claws and venom on who would top whom.”
I knew the wordsclawsandvenomwere supposed to scare me off. Unfortunately, those words connected to the vexing beauty who slipped behind the door of Room 20 had my cock twitching. I knew absolutely nothing about the woman, yet something in me needed to know how much of a fight she’d put up.
2
Club Sin was the best money I’d ever spent on my self-care. The swiping right, the meeting for drinks, the banal chatter, only to get ghosted. Not anything I cared to give any more of my time to. For what it cost me in subscriptions to all of those websites, instead I’d plunked down my money at Club Sin, and taken a spin on the wild fantasy lottery. I’d never felt more in my skin than I had since joining Club Sin.
The dating app men wouldsaythey were into “thick” women, but what they meant were size sixes with JLo booties. At Club Sin, thick wasn’t just accepted, they worshipped it. Not to say that they preferred it over any other size or shape—the club accepted everyone for exactly who they were. And that felt fucking amazing.
That kind of freedom is heady. It took me down paths I never expected to walk down. Like my present dalliance with Lazlo and Dax.
“My little pet.” I ran my finger nails up the inside of Lazlo’s thigh, loving the way he writhed. “Have you been good for me this week?”
Both he and Dax knelt in front of me, their cocks and balls restrained in pillory shackles. The pair had the most beautiful cocks. While vastly different, Lazlo was long and not as thick as Dax, whose cock was stout. Both possessed an exceptional talent for hours of pleasure—me with them and them in me.
“Mistress,” I could hear the pinch in his voice, sense how desperately he needed to come, “it’s been a very trying day. I don’t know how much longer I can hold off. Please Mistress, I’ll do anything if you let me come.”
I loved when they begged.
“My poor boy,” I cooed, tucking my crop beneath my arm to give me the use of both of my hands, “you don’t hear your friend complaining.”
They had a pair of asses I couldn’t ever resist playing with. Both were round and firm, Dax’s covered in a forest of hair, Lazlo, shaved and smooth. By the tightness of their assholes, I knew neither could hold off on blowing for much longer. I could feel the effort each exerted holding back their orgasms.
“Mistress, please no.” Dax chimed in. He knew the consequences of ducking away from my touch. Yet, despite the potential orgasm denial that came with the infraction, he still tensed his anus to prevent my fingers from penetrating.
“No?” I asked, circling around to crouch in front of them, watching the teardrops of cum collecting in a puddle of lust beneath where I’d restrained them. “You want me to stop touching you?”
With my crop, I traced Dax’s thighs before running the crop along the underside of his balls, before giving a little tap to his taint. Lazlo groaned as if he had a psychic connection to Dax, moaning like a foghorn in tandem with his partner, shooting a new rainstorm of ejaculate onto the floor.
“You keep doing that sweet Lazlo. You won’t have any left for when I finally set you free and fuck you.”
“I’m sorry, Mistress, I’m trying to hold it in. I’ve been so good.”
There was an oversized bed in the corner. Probably a double king. Plenty of room for the three of us to comfortably exorcise all of our sexual perversions for hours on end. Lazlo saw where my gaze traveled and flexed his hips in response. I always rewarded them for being my good boys.
Lazlo struggled against his restraints. He was my demisexual. As much as he loved submitting, he couldn’t fly until he could touch, and hold, and assure himself those feelings were real. Taking his hands out of the equation was sweet torture. But as he neared the end of his tolerance, he would struggle to find any way to physically connect. Even as he tried to get his hands out of their restraints, his legs inched ever closer to Dax.
“Very well.” I pulled the pin out of each pillory. “You have both pleased me immensely. Go to the bed and entertain yourself while I clean up after the two of you. If I had any sense, I’d make you clean your own mess. But, in the state the two of you are in, you would just half ass it anyway, wouldn’t you?”
Lazlo and Dax had already flopped onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs. The two were like vines, wrapped appendages snaking around one another. One leg over the others. Their arms battling for control of the embrace, their mouths and teeth clattering with the violence of their coupling. They ground against each other, keening like puppy dogs, trying to get as close to one another as possible. Their desire was so palpable. Even if it didn’t include me, it wrapped around me like mist coming off a harbor.
