A Certain Girl Read online

  “Bit, please, Ma’am.”

  She set the bit gag in his mouth and tightly buckled it around his head. If he needed to safeword, he’d lift his head.

  He wouldn’t need to safeword.

  Her hands returned to his back, down, up again, her thumbs digging into the muscles along his spine. Over to his shoulders, down his arms, up again. Back down to his ass, which she squeezed hard, fingers digging in before trailing down his thighs and up again.

  During a pause he took a deep breath, knowing what was coming next.

  And it did. Eliza started using her fists to pummel him, the pain a welcomed relief after so many weeks without it. Both a massage and a warm-up, even the harder, painful strokes blessed his system with endorphins and dopamine and the lovely little soup of brain chemicals these sessions always triggered.

  Happiness so fierce slammed into him that it felt like he could sink into the mattress.

  This.

  Her.

  His everything, right here. Why he worked so hard. Why he’d built a life for them.

  His blessing, and his salvation.

  Eliza quickly moved on to implements, floggers first, skipping the softer ones and going for a set with stiffer, braided leather falls that had a bit of bite to them. More pummeling and bare-handed spanking before switching to a strap, a leather tongue, a paddle.

  More.

  He wanted more, wanted it all, the sweet, hot burn starting to settle into his flesh and light his nerves on fire. In his ass, the butt plug continued buzzing away, no longer an annoyance but delivering a sweet edge to the bite of pain from every stroke landing on his flesh.

  A soft, familiar hum started in his mind. Rusty closed his eyes and let it flow over him. Everything about this felt right and good, and he knew on the back side of it that he would feel a thousand times better once it ended.

  Eliza knew him, knew his body, knew his very soul.

  Even the darkest places.

  She was his light, his beacon in the wilderness.

  Even as he bit down on the gag and grunted, cried, screamed, she didn’t stop.

  He didn’t want her to.

  Sure, it was fun to play at one of the private Suncoast Society parties, or at the club, but it was even better here on their bed, where she didn’t have to hold back in any way.

  When she bumped up the setting on the butt plug to a fast throb, he knew he was in for it. The next implement was a cane of some sort, accurately slicing right along the seam where ass met thigh and making him scream.

  She stroked his hot ass. “I know,” she softly cooed. “But it’s what you need, isn’t it?”

  At some point he’d started crying. “Yes, Ma’am,” he mumbled around the bit gag.

  Before he’d barely finished saying that, another stroke, even harder than the first, sliced across his upper thighs and left a stripe of fiery pain in its wake.

  These weren’t pulled strokes suggestive of what she was capable of.

  Those were welts that he’d be shocked if she hadn’t drawn blood.

  He hoped she had.

  She swapped canes at some point, breaking out the Delrin hex rod, but pulling those strokes because that was the most wicked motherfucker in her collection. Back to another paddle, then more cane strokes. This was the grind, that last, agonizing bit before hitting the peak where he could coast down the other side.

  Another adjustment to the butt plug, which now alternated buzzing with throbbing, pressed right up against his prostate and nearly making him come except for the exquisite agony rolling through him.

  She knew this, too. Eliza was an expert in balancing the pain and pleasure so he could take more of both. As she reached a crescendo with the pain, he grunted through every impact, the pain now one deep, burning sensation from knees to shoulders.

  Then the butt plug shut off.

  As he struggled to catch his breath, he heard her don a glove, and then the feel of her removing the toy.

  She took it to the bathroom and immediately returned.

  He couldn’t see what she was doing behind him now, but he didn’t have to. He knew, and it’d been too fucking long since they’d last done this, too. He closed his eyes and rocked back as far as his bonds would allow, arching his back so he could stick his ass out even more for her.

  She rewarded him with a pleased laugh. “Such a gooood boy,” she softly said.

  He felt the press of the lubed dildo against his ass, and she easily slid home inside him until her cool thighs were pressed against the backs of his. She’d gone easy on him today, using one of the smaller ones.

  He sort of wished she’d used a bigger one.

  Maybe that could happen tomorrow.

  Her flesh almost felt cold against his, sooo good, comforting, soothing.

  “Ready for your reward, big guy?”

  He let loose a needy groan and tried to fuck himself onto the strap-on.

  “I take it that’s a yes?”

  He nodded, now beyond coherent speech even if he didn’t have the bit gag in his mouth.

  She reached forward and fixed that problem, unfastening it so he could spit it out.

  “Tomorrow may never come, but I’m about to, Ma’am.”

  She giggled. “Then by all means.” She grabbed his hips and started fucking him, knowing he wouldn’t quite be able to get over like this.

  Every stroke felt fantastic, gliding against his sweet spot, but wasn’t quite enough.

  Finally, as he grew more desperate, she took pity on him and gave him a reach-around. He fisted the covers under him as he started to come almost immediately, before she’d even given his cock more than two or three strokes with her hand.

  After he finished, he limply collapsed onto the bed while she took the toy into the bathroom. When she returned, she climbed onto the bed, her legs spread, his face in her pussy.

  “You know what to do,” she said.

  Like a starving man, he devoured her. Not that he would have resisted even if he hadn’t been bound. He wanted her, wanted this, all of it.

  Loved it and her.

  It was probably the better part of thirty minutes and no telling how many orgasms later when she finally unsnapped the ropes from his cuffs so he could crawl up onto the bed and into her arms, where he almost immediately fell asleep.

  Chapter Nine

  It was after seven Tuesday evening before Rusty finally woke up again, his face pressed against Eliza’s stomach and one arm possessively draped around her.

  Much the same way he used to sleep when she was pregnant with Kaylie, wanting to feel as many kicks as he could.

  He snuggled tightly against her, his arm closing around her.

  She played with his hair. “Hey, there, barbarian.”

  He kissed her tummy. “Sorry I fell asleep on you, Ma’am.”

  “Nah. Kind of expected it. I had a bit of a nap, too. I left the cleanup for you, though.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, Ma’am. Gladly.”

  “Meet me in the shower?”

  He eased up her body to kiss her. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  After cleaning up the toys and taking a long, sexy shower with Eliza, he felt worlds better.

  Although now he was starving.

  Together, they cooked dinner before he reluctantly pulled on a pair of shorts so they could take the dogs outside into the backyard. While they had a privacy fence, he didn’t like to risk full nakey outside too much before dark.

  Although he did wear his cuffs and collar outside.

  Eliza snuggled into his arms. “Feeling better?”

  He rubbed his face against the top of her head. “Yes, Ma’am. Soooo much better.”

  “How’s the ass?”

  “Very sore, thank you.” Another kiss to the top of her head. “I missed you.”

  “Missed you, too.”

  Chica nosed the back of his left calf, leaving a slimy slobber trail behind. “Ew.”

  Eliza giggled.

  He looked
down at the dog, who was now looking up at him and wagging her stubby tail.

  “Yes, I missed you, too.”

  Chica wagged harder, and then Boo walked over and slimed the back of his other calf.

  Eliza stared up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes of hers, eyes he’d followed through hell and back, a gaze he’d die for.

  “I don’t promise not to scare him,” he said, all levity temporarily banished from his voice.

  She smirked. “I thought you were going to lecture me about not scaring him.”

  “That was before the little bastard moved in with her.”

  “Going to good cop/bad cop him, are we, barbarian?”

  “If you’ve already turned away from the Dark Side, I guess so.”

  “June has a finely honed bullshit meter,” she assured him. “If I wasn’t reasonably certain about him, she would have picked something up.”

  “True.” He deeply inhaled, loving the scent of her. “But Kailey’s our baby.”

  “Rus, we can’t hover over her through her entire life.”

  “Wanna make a bet?” he growled.

  Eliza gave him that look.

  His ire withered under her look. “Why not?”

  She snorted. “Sweetie, I’ve been chatting with her every day. They’re doing fine. Why don’t you call her and talk to her?”

  “Fine,” he huffed.

  She rose up onto her toes to kiss him. “I’ll corral the babies. Your phone’s on the counter on the charger.” She smacked his ass, making him wince, then smile.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” He kissed her once more before heading inside.

  Part of him knew Eliza was absolutely right.

  The rest of him wanted to drive to Gainesville that night with a chainsaw, a shovel, and a map to the closest state forest.

  After wiping the backs of his calves with damp paper towels to clean off the bulldog slobber, he retrieved his phone. Then he called up Kailey’s number and dialed it before he lost what little chill he’d managed to regain.

  Which was practically none.

  She answered on the second ring and sounded more nervous than he ever remembered hearing her sound. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Hey, kiddo.” He closed his eyes as a series of images flashed through his mind. Of the first time they heard her heartbeat in the doctor’s office. The day she was born. Her first day of school.

  The first time he put a waster in her hands and taught her how to use it and she clobbered a little boy who was two years older than her.

  “How was your trip?” she asked.

  “Long. Glad to be home.” He dove right in. “So I hear you and Gerald are living together now, huh?”

  “Uh, yeah. Guess Mom told you the whole story, huh?”

  “Uh huh.” He took a deep breath. “So, here comes the mandatory Dad talk.”

  “Yeah, I figured.”

  “What Mom said. If it doesn’t work, tell us. Please?”

  “Dad, I promise. We’re not going to get married right now. School and competition first.”

  “Just keep something in mind, sweetheart.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. If he hurts you, let him know that I will make what Mom did to him look like a friendly game of Twister. And you know I can do it.”

  She grumbled, sounding so much like her mother it made his heart ache a little.

  Gerald’s a lucky guy. Let’s hope she’s right about him.

  “Dad, he’s scared of you, too. I promise.”

  “How?”

  She softly laughed. “I might have had fun telling a few war stories about you and the LARP group.”

  “You did, huh?”

  “Yeah. And he knows I can shoot, he’s seen me in the dojo. He’s…” She sighed. “He reminds me a lot of you. He looks at me the way you look at Mom.”

  Well, shit.

  He didn’t exactly have an argument against that. Yes, Eliza had said it, but hearing his daughter say it…

  Sigh.

  When he finally ended their phone call, he found Eliza chilling on the couch, a playful smile on her face. “Well?” she asked.

  He curled up on the couch with his head in her lap. “I will kill him if he hurts her.”

  She ran her fingers through his hair. “Of course you will, honey.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I know.”

  “I really will.”

  “My big, tough barbarian.”

  He snuggled tighter against her. “It’s not fair she’s all grown up now.”

  “I know.” Her fingers stroked against his scalp.

  He sighed. “Did we give her all the tools she needs?”

  “Oooh, yeah. And if we didn’t, we showed him she has a family he doesn’t want to fuck with.”

  * * * *

  By Friday evening, Rusty felt mostly recovered and decided he wanted to get back to at least one other thing he’d really missed—their LARP group. After a quick glance at the group’s Google calendar on their website to make sure there was a practice late that Saturday morning, he cleared it with Eliza to go and made sure to hunt down all his gear and get it ready.

  This was the same group they’d been attending when the two of them first met. Some of the same people were still members, including Duke, who ran it. They’d seen second generations of kids pass through, and, in some cases, third generations, grandchildren enjoying participating and getting dirty and sweaty and having good, clean, sort-of violent fun.

  Safely, of course.

  He suspected Eliza wasn’t going to go when she didn’t bother to prep any of her gear ahead of time.

  When they awoke late the next morning, after he started the morning by eating her out and then getting rewarded by being allowed to fuck her, Eliza confirmed her decision.

  “I’m going to help Marcia do the shopping for the club today, but you go have fun.”

  “You sure? I’ll go with you, if you want.”

  She gave him a long, sweet kiss. “I’m sure.” She giggled as she licked her juices off his chin. “Might want to clean up before you head out, though. You’ll end up smelling a little funny once you start sweating.”

  “Good point.”

  An hour later, he was out the door and on his way to the county park. When he pulled into the parking area, he spotted his old friend, Kevin.

  “Hey!”

  Kevin turned, grinning. “Where you been hiding?”

  “Me? Where’ve you been?” Rusty asked.

  “Had to miss a couple of months. Knee surgery.”

  “Man, that mean I need to take it easy on you?”

  Kevin snorted. “As if. I brought chalk and rope. Looks like we’re the first here. Want to get the circles laid out?”

  “Yeah.”

  Twenty minutes later, a couple of other old-timers had also shown up while Rusty and Kevin started warming up inside one of the circles.

  That’s when a young girl who wore a pinched, dour look on her face marched over. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Rusty turned. “Uh, we’re practicing.”

  “That’s not what we choreographed.”

  “Choreographed? Since when do we choreograph anything but the chess matches?”

  “We do now!”

  “And who the hell are you?”

  “My name’s Gaylena. Who the hell are you?”

  He stared at the girl. “Are you even eighteen? Where are your fricking parents?”

  “I’m nineteen, and I’m in charge of this group.”

  He snorted. “Now I know you’re full of shit. Duke’s in charge of the group. We’ve known each other since we were kids, honey, and I’ve been part of this group since then.”

  “Well, I’ve never seen you.”

  “I’ve been out of town for work. I missed a couple of months.”

  “I’m in charge now. I took over when Duke needed to drop out for a while. I was the only one to volunteer to take over organizing everything. If you’d
been here, you’d know that.”

  Rusty exchanged a dubious glance with Kevin. “You hear about this?”

  He shrugged. “I heard Duke handed the Facebook group and website and stuff over to someone temporarily, but I was laid up with my knee the past couple of months.”

  She planted her fists on her hips. “We don’t just go running around with fake weapons. We’re currently choreographing the fight from Highlander.”

  “Okay, you did get the memo we’re not representing Scots, right?”

  “The moves are the same.” Cue eye-roll.

  The duh was implied.

  Rusty clenched his fist in order to keep his arm at his side, because he reeeeeally wanted to punch this kid, girl or not.

  “Honey, why don’t you stand back and watch and learn.” Rusty turned toward Kevin again, but the girl had the balls to enter the circle and get between them.

  “You’re not understanding, dude. I’m in charge now.”

  He had several inches, over fifty pounds, and several decades of experience on her. He could easily kick her ass.

  Didn’t mean he should.

  Some more kids, most who looked her age or younger, walked up.

  “What’s going on, Gaylena?” one boy asked.

  “These guys aren’t doing the routine.”

  Rusty was trying hard to hold on to his chill. “We’ve been doing this since before you were even born, kiddo,” Rusty said.

  He’d apparently struck a nerve. Her face scrunched up. “Don’t call me that!” She turned. “Mayghen! Where are you?”

  “Here.” Another girl stepped around to the front of the group, and Rusty thought he recognized her, maybe?

  “Tell them who runs the website and Facebook groups now.”

  “You do.” But she didn’t look totally…convinced.

  Or convincing.

  “This is our practice,” Gaylena said. “I’ve had six summers at theater camp, and a semester of fencing. We’re going to make the ren fair appearances look good.”

  Rusty sheathed his sword and planted his hands on his hips. “For starters, theater camp won’t do jack shit for you if you don’t know how to fight, how to fall.”

  “We don’t need to know how to fight and fall. That’s why we’re choreographing everything.”

  Rusty started studying the kids and realized he didn’t really recognize any of them as regulars, or kids of old-timers. In fact, only two adults he recognized had walked up while this confrontation was going on.