Chapter Eighteen
Do you trust me
“I’m telling you, that bitch needs to be pounded in the worse way.” Goose’s words were solidly firm, no give in them at all, and Road Runner couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. “There is absolutely no excuse for what she did that night.”
They were seated in his kitchen, coffee cups resting on the table. Goose had leaned forward, elbows resting on the surface, while Road Runner angled back, arm hooked over the back of his chair. Goose had texted when he was on his way over, and Road Runner had risen from bed, leaving Aurelie asleep, brushing a kiss against her temple as he’d tucked the covers in around her.
“I’m not arguing, brother.” Road Runner shook his head, lifting his cup to sip at the steaming drink. “And you don’t have the full story.” Not that he was a hundred percent certain he did, but at least he had the parts he pried from Aurelie last night. “You need to know the history.”
“Then enlighten me, motherfucker, because I’m in a mood to fuckin’ deal out some pain.” Mouth twisting to one side, Goose scrubbed along his jaw with one hand. “Fuck, I’m in a shitty state of mind, brother. Ignore me. I heard Worm took Francine to a party last night. Got heavy handed with her. He’s a real bastard. Not saying anything else until I get a chance to talk to her. That motherfucker is gonna learn. Another bastard who needs to be beat.”
Road Runner knew who Francine was, of course. Goose had talked about her often enough over the past few months. She worked as a waitress at a diner the club owned in Fort Wayne. Goose had met her about the same time she’d met one of the Rebel prospects, Worm, and had backed off when she seemed interested in the younger man. Since then every slight to the woman, no matter how small, would set him off.
“You decide it’s finally time to wade in and take her, I’ve got your back, brother.” Road Runner told him, catching Goose’s gaze and giving him a chin lift. “I got you, man.”
“I know, brother. Don’t know why that little girl’s under my skin like she is, but fuck if I can get her outta my head.” Goose drained his cup, setting it solidly on the table. “Not why I’m here, though. Tell me whatever history you think I need to know before I call Sid and we walk through what needs to happen.”
“I know the Domme. At least, I think I do.” With that opening, Road Runner talked through his relationship with Joselyn, and then Aurelie. Feeling sick to his stomach, he extrapolated what he thought had probably happened after he had left Paris to come home. “So then, Aurelie gets to Chicago, my hometown, but she doesn’t run into me, she runs into Jos instead, someone who already had a hard-on for her. I’m pretty certain the bitch recognized me last night, which means she’s going to be gunning for Aurelie again if I don’t shut it down before it gets a chance to start.”
“Then we got work to do. She studied in France, same as you, right?” Goose thumped the tabletop with the tip of a finger. “If she’s a chef, it should be easy to find her.”
“Looked in all the right places, but I still can’t find any mention of her at a Chicago restaurant. Granted, she could be anywhere. The Fox River valley has several places worthy of a Le Cordon Bleu-trained chef, and there’s all of Milwaukee. I’m not sure finding her via profession is going to work.” Road Runner shook his head. “I hate the idea of taking Aurelie back into the club without being 100 percent certain I can control the situation.”
“Then we bulletproof your Paris, make it so she isn’t vulnerable to that bullshit. What if you tailored a scene to her? Pull out all the stops to make it something memorable from your time back then? Would she follow the idea of that back to now, and see you’re a good fit? Give her confidence that you’ll catch her, every time? Then it wouldn’t matter what this Jos bitch did.” Tipping his head to one side, Goose waited for a response.
“Maybe.” He considered Goose’s words. “I don’t know. Aurelie’s favorite was always consensual nonconsent. Might be too much like what she endured in that private hellhole to be comforting.” Road Runner stared down at his hands for a moment, fingers flexing with the memories. “One of the things that Aurelie always did was take care of the restraints. I was such a newbie, she had to guide me every step of the way. I could work that in so she would have the reality of control, and the scene would be a clear illusion. It might be less satisfying for her that way, but it would center her, keep her from panicking.”
“Sounds like a plan. What do you need from me?” Road Runner lifted his head quickly, the roll returning to his gut and Goose’s head shook back and forth at whatever he saw. “No, brother. I know this gal isn’t a tag team subbie for you. I’m not expecting to get in on the scene that way. I mean what do you need from me where this bitchy Domme is concerned?”
“I think she’ll need to observe, which means she might need to be baited over. Sid will give me a room, and I think Aurelie will do well isolated like that. Since she’ll know the windows are a barrier that not only keeps her in but keeps every else out, I think it will soothe a lot of her fears.” He chuckled. “I’ll just have to play on the ones I want, and avoid the ones I don’t.” He shrugged. “Easy peasy, right?”
With a snort, Goose grinned at him.
***
As he changed clothes in the club’s facilities, Kevin again mused about how the ritual allowed him to slough off the person he was outside the BDSM world, putting on his Dom like a second skin. I’m both, he thought, and they each require a certain amount of posturing. An image of his chef’s hat flashed through his head, and he laughed quietly. I’m all three, and there are aspects of each which are similar.
Today, sauntering through what he thought of as his room of diners, Chef Kevin’s hands had been held clasped in front of him to accept the words of praise from patrons who had spent hundreds of dollars to be there. That entire pageantry was not much different from Road Runner’s stance behind Mason’s chair in a meet with another club. The manner in which he stalked the club, the same, each of them was a promise that he always, always delivered on.
Zipping up his bag, he smoothed his shirt a final time, tucking it into the waistband of his tight jeans.
Duffle returned to his locker, he quickly verified his reservation and then strolled to the main room. Gaze skimming the crowd, he marked Aurelie and Kris’ positions and then continued to look around. Sid stood near the spanking bench area, and he stared at Kevin with narrowed eyes. Letting the Domme return to the club for one final night hadn’t sat well with him. Sid had only done so with the understanding he had complete power over terminating that access, regardless of where Kevin was in whatever scene he’d crafted for his sub.
Kevin returned his attention to Aurelie. She was dressed as he requested, having told her specifically what to wear without explanation, as was his right within these walls. After much consideration, he’d settled on a scene without chance of failure for Aurelie, but one that would provide the lesson the Domme so badly needed.
Aurelie wore a beautiful summer dress, the full skirt swirled with swaths of pastel watercolors, feet nearly bare, clad in low sandals. Her hair was carefully braided, with only the barest brush of makeup on her gorgeous features. This was the Aurelie he had lived with so long ago, the woman unafraid of femininity and very aware of the power she held over a much younger Kevin. The power she still holds. The idea of Aurelie blossoming back into that woman gave him a warm feeling, and his mouth slid sideways in a grin.
He turned from where she stood near Kris and walked to the room with the reserved sign, stepping inside to see a near enough replica of his living room at home. Adjusting the privacy lighting, he set it so the room would be fully visible from outside, but the glass would appear opaque from within the scene, unless you were near the surface. He wanted Aurelie immersed in the scene, undistracted by anything, but needed her trust on full display for everyone.
Back out into the main room, staying out of Aurelie’s direct range of sight, he slowly circled the area, coming to stand behind her. Even without being able to see the entrance, he would have known when the Domme came into the room, because every line of Aurelie’s body tightened. Her hands, already gripped behind her back in a presentation pose, grasped tighter, fingers turning white with the pressure. Stepping close behind Aurelie, close enough she would feel the heat from his body, he murmured her name. Nothing more, just one word, “Aurelie,” and was rewarded by her immediate inrush of breath, the clutching twitch of her clasped fingers as they brushed innocently against his groin.
Kevin didn’t touch her, knowing she was fully aware of his body so near hers. He gently breathed out in a path along her shoulder, seeing a rolling wave of gooseflesh in its wake. “My Aurelie, are you ready to play?” Her chin dipped, and he watched as her eyes closed in anticipation.
“Yes, Sir.”
He waited, but nothing else was forthcoming, and Kevin hid his disappointment in a chuckle, his voice dipping an octave as he said, “That will do for now.” Gliding his fingers from her elbow to wrist, he untwined her fingers from each other and replaced the grip with his own. Gentle, soft, but allowing no room for resistance, he lifted her hand and tucked it between his body and arm. Wrapping her fingers in a grip around the bend of his elbow, he used the tip of one finger to stroke her skin. Aurelie’s head lifted, and she raised her gaze to his throat. He paused waiting, but she didn’t say anything. Silent assent, granting him her trust so easily, while still withholding what he wanted most. Stubborn wench.
Leading her, he took one step, two, and was already fighting the drag of her body as she instinctively tried to move behind him. Without his order, she still tried to assume the accustomed position for walking through the club with a Dom. Not this time, baby. “Keep up,” he told her brightly, keeping any sense of scolding from his voice. “it wouldn’t do for my little one to stumble.”
If she had offered him the word he wanted, he would have allowed her to assume the coveted submissive role. Instead she had called him “sir,” which placed him on a level where he could literally be anyone. Anyone she agreed to serve in a scene would be given the same title. Even on a service night, she would call a hundred different Doms and Dommes “sir,” or “madame,” and the knowledge galled him. Tonight was to be a lesson for Joselyn, but if Aurelie demanded a reminder of what they were to each other, of what he wanted to be to her, then he would gladly provide that, too.
Inside the room, he walked her to the middle of the open floor, murmuring as he uncoiled her fingers from his arm, “Stand here, little one.” He moved in front of her, stepping close, and ran a hand down each of her arms, circling her wrists with his fingers, squeezing lightly. Leaning in, he traced a circle on her bare shoulder with the tip of his nose while he brought her arms behind her. Gripping tightly, he mimicked the feel of restraints for a moment, then crossed her wrists at the small of her back. “Palm to palm, please,” he instructed, feeling muscles shift in her arms as she followed his direction.
With one leg, he pushed his knee deep between her legs, lifting to press the widest part of his thigh against her core. “Widen your stance.” She shifted, sliding her feet another few inches apart. Mouth near her neck, he could see her pulse pounding underneath her skin, see how her chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. “Breathe. Peace, little one.” Pulling in a loud, deliberate breath, he saw her shoulders relax a fraction of an inch as she breathed with him. “Beautifully done. Again with me, please.” Repeating the actions took only seconds, but he could hear how she had steadied in those moments. “Perfection.”
Stepping back, he released his hold on her, staring at her face while her gaze trailed to the floor. Chin tipped down, the angle of her neck was elegant. Her face wasn’t expressionless but peaceful. She’d found her center again. “Perfection,” he repeated and her shoulders lifted with a deep breath, repeating the exercise solo as he’d intended. “Do you trust me?” Her gaze didn’t waver, didn’t lift in question, and the crown of her head dipped towards him an inch, then rose again. No, baby. I need to hear you. “You may speak in response.”
He was giving her another chance to grant him the title she’d used in the past. He knew it was probably futile, but still hoped she would follow through this time so he could follow the path he’d laid out with Kris.
Kevin stifled a sigh when he heard her response, “Yes, Sir. I trust you.”
Sir, he thought, I hate that nearly as much as mon amie.
He forced himself to keep his footsteps to a casual stroll as he walked to the door, closing it firmly. Hand on the speaker switch, he adjusted it so those close to the viewing window could hear everything said, but he and Aurelie, inside the room, would hear nothing from outside. He didn’t want anything to distract or distress his submissive tonight.
I’m glad I haven’t used her name. My submissive may be all she wants to be. Not my Aurelie. That knowledge twisted in his gut, but he ignored it.
Movement in the window caught his attention, and he angled his eyes that direction, seeing Kris’ signal. Joselyn was being steered towards the room. Time to get Aurelie warmed up.
Approaching her slowly, Kevin rolled his head, arching his neck back and forth. “Sub, what is your stop word?” He was close enough to see Aurelie swallow hard, and he thought she might not answer him. She had taught him the usage of safewords in Paris, but they had never been spoken during their play. Including one now would signal to her that the evening might not be going the direction she expected from her assigned preparation work. He paused a moment, waiting, then prompted her, “If you cannot articulate your word, then we will be unable to play.” Kevin attempted to keep his tone warm but knew an edge of command had crept in when she shivered.
“Rouge,” she said, her voice trembling.
“I wonder at your readiness to play, sub.” Kevin stayed behind her, away from even the edges of her vision. He could see the skirt of her dress swaying, set in motion by her shivers. “Not even an honorific for your…me.” He stumbled intentionally over the word selection, because if she couldn’t even call him Sir, he wouldn’t give himself any title, not Dom and certainly not Master.
“Sir!” The word came from her mouth on a near sob, and Kevin carefully unclenched his fists. I might not be fit to play, he thought, but feared stopping things here would strip Aurelie of any confidence she had gained in his care these past days. “My safeword is rouge, Sir.”
“Rouge,” he repeated softly, gently. “If my sub says rouge, then we have found the outer limits of her comfort as she knows it. Would you like to know our game tonight, sub?” Aurelie’s head dipped and rose, the tail of her braided hair skimming the top edge of her dress. Thick and gorgeous, the plait lay along her spine, and Kevin reached up and traced the prominent knobs of her vertebra from her hairline down to the fabric that crossed just at her shoulder blades. “Yes, you would like to know.” One fingertip dusted across her skin, trailing side to side. “Our game tonight is pleasure—” He leaned forwards, lips to the exposed flesh of her shoulder, and set his teeth to work, scraping along the edge of her spine. “—and patience.”
Aurelie shivered, a rippling movement of her muscles that combined with her soft vocalization of anticipation. “Wherever this goes, sub,”—thumb and finger to the zipper, he began navigating the sweep of the fabric along her curves, keeping the touch of his skin on hers light and irregular—“you can be assured that you will experience pleasure—” Placing his mouth on the pale flesh at the nape of her neck, he kissed softly, laving her skin with his tongue before pulling back and blowing a stream of air across the dampness, smiling at her full-body shiver in response. “—as long as you exercise patience.”
Kevin abandoned words for a time. Letting his hands graze her back, he skimmed gently from her shoulder blades to the swell of her ass, and spread the edges of the fabric. Gripping her hands, he urged them apart, separated her clutching fingers, and arranged her limbs to lay along her sides. Raising his hands, he rounded the curve of her shoulders to where the straps supported the dress, dragging them to the outside and allowing the entire garment to drop to the floor. As instructed, Aurelie wore nothing underneath, and seeing her naked, Kevin’s cock filled with blood, fattening and pushing against his jeans. Down, boy. That’s not part of the plan tonight.
Crowding in behind her, he pressed his clothed body tight to her naked one, allowing himself a single gentle thrust against her ass, ensuring she felt his erection. No harm in teasing both of us. “Are you comfortable, sub?”
At his continued use of the correct, but impersonal word, her head jerked to one side. Not a lot, but enough to tell him she found it not to her liking. Aurelie’s lips parted, her tongue slid out to lap at her bottom lip, then her teeth ran across the plump flesh. “Yes, Sir.”
Not working on me this time. When she had knowingly topped from the bottom, back when he didn’t have a clue what he was doing, she would use subtle behaviors like that to pull him from a path she didn’t want to follow, and onto one she did. In this case, she would want the one where he more actively touched or fondled her, one where he kissed her and called her his darling. Not today, subbie.
“Good,” he responded without pause, running one palm up her side from waist to ribs, then down, caressing her ass as he slid his hand around and underneath. “Sub, do you enjoy pain?” Thumb and finger to the inside of her thigh, he didn’t bear down, simply applied enough pincer pressure to hold an inch of flesh tightly. “Are you a masochist and have failed to negotiate for your desires?”
“No, Sir.” That immediate answer was loud and firm. The way her ass squirmed told him she wanted to get away from his fingers but didn’t want to displease.
“Do you trust me, sub?” The repeat of the question soothed her, and she nodded. He released his grip, and moved to her pussy, spreading her lips with his fingers before he dipped them inside, wetting them in the evidence of her earlier arousal. “Then there is pleasure, because you have been quite patient.” Deep and fast, he fingered her from behind, plunging in and out, the sound eclipsed in erotic appeal only by the scent of her release on the air. With one hand on her waist holding her against him, he pushed deep and scissored his fingers while his thumb pushed and prodded at her pucker, gliding across the sensitive nerve endings. Working her up, and up, winding the tension of pleasure tightly. He measured the moment, holding onto it as long as he could before removing his hands from her body and taking a single step backwards, abruptly leaving her standing alone, weaving drunkenly back and forth.
The sound deep in her chest was more of a pained groan than a moan, but she maintained discipline and kept her mouth closed and her hands at her sides. “Pleasure, yes?” Her head jerked once, twice, then she nodded slowly. “Yes, pleasure, because you were truthful. Our game is best played with honesty, yes?” With a harsh indrawn breath, she nodded again.
Her whispered, “Yes, Sir,” caused Kevin to clench his teeth as he moved forwards.
Flush against her back once more, he reached around and cupped a breast in one hand, his other palm flattened against her belly, sliding down, down, down to the juncture of her thighs. “Yes, pleasure.” Thumb sweeping across her nipple, he ground the heel of his hand into her clit, pressing hard and moving swiftly, alternating the rubbing motion of up and down with side to side. Fingers threading through her pussy lips, he dipped shallowly into her channel, her slick liquid soothing and smoothing the way. Gently tugging her nipple, he carefully clamped down, squeezing and releasing in time with the movement of his hand on her clit. “Pleasure, sub? Is this pleasurable? Do you trust me with your pleasure?”
“Yes,” she panted, “Sir.”
“Is it painful? Do you want to tell me your word to stop our play?” Pinching his fingers tighter on her nipple, he added his teeth to the column of her throat, sucking and biting. “One breath and it all ceases, needing only that single sound from you to stop. Are you ready to stop, sub? Is this painful?”
“No, Sir.”
“Beautiful honesty, I tolerate nothing less.” Kevin could feel her muscles tighten, her breath rasping in her throat, and looked down to see her hand curling into a fist. He gave her another hard press and shift on her clit, then removed both hands and stepped backwards. As before, her light groan of disappointment and frustration hit the air as soon as he moved, but she made no demands from him. “Sub, do you want more? Do you trust me?”
“Yes, please, Sir.”
Gripping her shoulders, he adjusted her stance, rolling the dress away from under her feet and setting it to one side. This position put her facing the windows, but he had verified that individual features on the row of spectators silhouetted there were impossible to make out from where he and Aurelie stood. Kneeling on the floor next to her feet, he leaned in and licked a long stripe up her thigh to her pussy. Both hands lifted and he pulled the lips of her pussy wide, then without warning latched onto her clit with his lips, sucking strongly, alternating with hard flicks from his fingers. “More?”
“Ke…yes.” Her head tossed from side to side, and she grinded her teeth when she finished, “Sir.” Kevin positioned his hand, and plunged two fingers inside her, renewing the assault on her clit with his lips. “Sir,” she wailed, shaking hard, “please.”
He thought he’d left it too late for a moment as she clamped down. Instead of withdrawing, he shifted to slow, languorous movements, lapping at her labia and nuzzling into her. Slower, slower, until he paused entirely, fingers buried inside her, unmoving. Almost as an afterthought, he tipped his head back and stared up into her face. Her eyes were squeezed tight, and she had bitten her lips puffy in her efforts to silence herself. “Sub,” he called softly and saw the expression of distaste flash across her features. “Sub, is this pleasurable?”
“Ye…yes, Sir.”
“Do you want more? Do you trust me? Can you take more?” She nodded. “Will you take more for me?” Another nod. “Will you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Anything I want? You trust me so?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Anything?”
Her answer by now was rote, so when it came, he was already reaching to the side where he’d bundled up her dress, pulling the flexible cat ‘o nine tails from underneath. With an overall length of three feet long, the cross between a whip and a flogger was an implement with which he had great experience. He knew he couldn’t gain the rolling crack of a bull or snake whip from the smaller device, but if applied properly, it would still make an intimidating amount of noise.
“Yes, Sir.”
Kevin lunged to his feet, stepped behind her and in one movement slipped an arm around her waist. He hauled her back against him as he extended his other arm and rolled his wrist, allowing the lashings of the whip to twirl through the air. A sharp movement of his forearm brought it down across the arm of the leather couch with an explosive boom. Aurelie jumped and tried to run, tried to get away, and now instead of her easily spoken, “Yes, Sir,” the air was filled with one word, spoken over and over.
“Rouge.”
“Sub, you told me anything.”
“Rouge. Rouge!”
“The game has stopped, we’ve stopped.” He was reassuring her, ensuring she knew she’d been heard. “You trust me.” He hated how she flinched at his words, her fingers trying to tear at his hand clamped on her waist. “We will not continue, not a moment past your word.”
“Rouge!”
“Trust me, little one,”—he had to give her something to hold onto or his heart would break with her cries—“I will not hurt you. I will not, you are safe, I promise. You trust me.”
“I trusted her, too.”
“Who, Aurelie, who did you trust?”
“Joselyn. But she wouldn’t stop, Kevin, she wouldn’t stop. She hates me because of you.” No more than what he had already known from Aurelie’s story, but it tore him apart to hear the words again. Then Aurelie handed him the world. “Because I love you.” Love. She said love, not loved. “She wouldn’t stop. I cried and I cried.” He dropped the whip and turned Aurelie in his arms, letting her fold in against his chest. “Blood everywhere, every time the whip landed it splattered. Rouge! Hot and liquid rolling down my skin. And my mouth dry, my throat so raw from screaming rouge. She wouldn’t stop. She didn’t stop. Again and again.”
“Aurelie, my Aurelie, she cannot reach you. She won’t hurt you again. I have you, honey. I have you wrapped up tight. You’re safe.”
“I trust you. With my life—” She hesitated, then with a sob, said, “—with my heart.” Another shuddering breath in, and she whispered what he needed to know, her final acceptance of who they were together. “Master.”
“My Aurelie.”
***
“She’s something, Kevin.” Kris lifted the water bottle he was holding in Kevin’s direction in a silent toast. “Woman like that, giving you everything…you aren’t going to come back here, are you?”
Kevin shook his head. “Not a place she needs to be right now. I can do more for her at home than I can here.” He tightened his arms around a sleeping Aurelie, bundled in a blanket and cradled in his lap. “At home, we can just be whatever the other needs.”
“Bitch is gone, though. You’ll make sure she knows that. She’ll need to know Gandall has been blackballed in every network Sid could touch. The look on her face when she heard? Looking around at her cohorts stepping away, seeing that circle of emptiness growing around her with every word from your Paris’ mouth? Fuckin’ priceless. Sid hadn’t just seeded the crowd with Dominants, but with the strong subs. You know the ones, they ain’t afraid of talking. Bitch is gone in a way Paris don’t have to worry about her coming back.” He sighed. “Still, not blaming you on that call. What you hold there? The woman you got in your lap?” Kris shook his head and looked away, eyes drifting to the side. “Holy Grail.”
“Yeah.” Kevin swallowed hard, thinking of how close he had come to losing this, losing Aurelie. “Hope you find that for you. Hey, I heard that Frannie split with Worm. That let you get in there with her? Give you an in with her, man?”
“Francine,” Kris said absently, “she doesn’t like Frannie.” He nodded and then shook his head, the movement slow and regretful. “Not really. She just needed away from that asswipe. I’m a place to land for a time. That’s all.”
“You sure?” Kevin tipped his chin to press his lips to Aurelie’s head. “I thought it looked like more the last time I saw her with you.”
Huffing out a laugh, Kris stood and stretched. “Man can hope.”
Thanks for reading
Road Runner’s Ride