Breathless (The Game 3)

A large St. Andrew’s Cross had been wheeled over to share the ramp with the table too, and I had a feeling I knew who would get attached to that cross soon.

River was…here somewhere.

According to a sign at the entrance of the club, seventy-five people were allowed to be in this room at the same time, and I guesstimated about half of that were present tonight. So far, all the kink equipment along the walls remained untouched. So I guess they were all going to watch Daddy beat me. Great.

Reese let out a laugh at something his buddy said. The music was too loud for me to hear it, but I was sure it was sadistic and cruel and mean and awful.

How long was I supposed to stand here? Wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs, no less. Granted, there were other subs who were in various states of undress, though they didn’t have spotlights aimed at them. I did.

I bet the Boston dude was a Sadist too. He looked the part, particularly when he smoothed his fingers down his somewhat untamed goatee. He’d grin at something, and his eyes would light up and crinkle at the corners, and he’d ease his thumb and forefinger down the dark hair that circled his mouth.

Well-worn leather pants, top button undone, nothing on top, except one tattoo that covered a shoulder and slithered down toward his chest and arm. Chains and tentacles mingled with the strands of a heavy-looking flogger that rose up from a patch of greenery with leaves, vines, and a single magnolia flower.

My mom had loved magnolia trees.

Oh, fuck no. I smashed my lips together as Reese picked up one of the floggers and drew the strands through his fist. It was the third time he’d picked up that particular tool, and I could see those strands were made of something unpleasant. My bet? Coconut. In which case, I was screwed. Coconut fibers were the reincarnation of the devil.

As if sensing I was watching, Reese glanced over at me with a little smirk.

The song playing was winding down, so I took the opportunity to give him a piece of my mind. “You’re eyeing that thing too hard, man.”

That made him grin. Fucker. Then he turned to his friend again, saying something I couldn’t hear, before he faced the crowd and whistled sharply.

The music died down, and nerves tightened my stomach.

“Evening, everyone!” Reese positioned himself at the center of the ramp and cracked his knuckles while he appeared to be looking for someone. Maybe River. “Good turnout—as always when there’s an opportunity to terrorize our subbies.” Chuckles all around from the dominant types. “Y’all know Walker. We miss him, he should move back down here, and until he does, we’ll have to make do with the fantastic toys he makes. Which—” he gestured toward me “—I will demonstrate on my mouthy boy tonight.”

Mouthy? I wasn’t fucking mouthy!

“That reminds me,” he went on. “I haven’t formally introduced the little fighter who’s turned my brother and me into cavemen lately.” Well, when he said shit like that, it was kind of hard to look pissy. He turned his hand, palm up, and I put my hand in his and joined him at his side. “Some of you know Shay from the munches back in town. Hopefully he’ll be a permanent fixture from now on.”

I gulped down the heaviness his words caused and managed a smile, but what I really wanted was to take him aside and ask if he meant all that.

“Congratulations!” someone hollered from the crowd.

Reese grinned and pressed a kiss to my temple, then addressed the others again. “It feels good to have your own personal punching bag, doesn’t it?”

I snorted and hid my amusement behind my hand, and…no one else hid their laughter.

“All right, enough chitchat,” Reese said. “I’m gonna get my boy attached to the cross, and Walker’s gonna tell y’all about the tools I’ll be using for warm-up.”

In other words, I was going to enjoy myself before the suffering began, sort of like this whole day had gone so far. Enjoyment first, torture later. Wonderful. I wasn’t dreading this one bit.

When Reese turned me toward the X-cross, I spotted River standing next to it, holding up a pair of headphones.

I furrowed my brow.

“You didn’t think I’d let Reese have all the fun, did you?” River pointed to the spot on the floor directly in front of the cross, and I walked over there. They both liked playfulness and bratting, I’d learned, but not during scenes. For this, they wanted obedience.

Together they restrained me to the cross using the multiple straps attached to the leather-covered contraption. Around my wrists, around my ankles, around my calves, and one strap around my midsection. I wasn’t going anywhere. I wouldn’t even be able to writhe when the pain rained down on me.