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  By dressing up, and keeping him in a suit, she’d be throwing him off a little mentally, but in a different way than he was used to.

  Plus she felt it’d be fun to work Cali up and turn her loose on her guys. Eliza knew how hot Rusty looked in a suit.

  She also knew Cali had a suit fetish.

  Sean and Max would be lucky if she didn’t start making them dress in suits for work every day.

  That was the kind of “law of unintended sadistic circumstances” she could really get behind.

  They were the first ones there and, yes, when Cali answered the door, her eyes widened when she got a load of him. “Holy…wow. Um, hey, guys.”

  Eliza grinned as she stepped in and hugged her. “Hot, right?” she whispered in Cali’s ear.

  “Uh huh!”

  Max rounded the corner from the kitchen, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt and barefoot. He pulled up short when he saw Rusty. “Wow, did you come right from work?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  Max shook with him. “Hell, I’m not technically bi, but I’d do you if we were both available.”

  Rusty smirked. “Thanks. I think.” He shot Eliza an arched eyebrow and she grinned.

  Busted.

  Even better.

  She led the way inside to pick a spot to dump their stuff. Rusty leaned in after he emptied his hands.

  “You’re sneaky, Ma’am,” he whispered.

  “Moi?”

  “You play innocent sadist about as well as Landry does.”

  “He doesn’t.”

  “Exactly.”

  She grinned and palmed his bulge, which was, she was happy to see, quite eager. “I did bring shorts and a T-shirt for you to change into…later. I’m enjoying this.”

  “Yes, you are.” He laid a hand over hers and squeezed, hard, making her grin even more. “Ma’am.”

  The fire in his eyes told her she now had a very dangerous pet on the metaphorical leash. He was all-in and eager to play. This could backfire on her and she’d find herself bent over and getting fucked if she wasn’t careful.

  Not that that was a bad thing, but if she wanted to keep Rusty on the pet side of the line, instead of breaking through to eager Knight with a sword to sheath, she’d need to tread lightly until she got him on the bench.

  And she loved these times even more. A party like this, with friends who’d completely understand, was the perfect opportunity to tease him to the edge. He’d never break protocol in front of a larger group of people.

  Sometimes she loved to live dangerously.

  She could also guarantee the absolute last thing on his mind right now was his uncle or anything else other than how long until he could get fucked and/or a beating.

  And that was her true goal.

  * * * *

  Everyone else had arrived by 7:30 and they settled in to eat pizza. Eliza had already previewed the new toys while helping Cali the other day. That meant she’d been able to stake out her favorites to try on him.

  Instead of bogarting them, though, she gave the others time to look them over and appraise them. There were also two prototype frames to be tested, but Eliza honestly didn’t feel like dealing with either of those tonight, opting to let others play on those.

  “So, what we need from everyone is honest feedback,” Cali said. She pointed to notecards and pens on the table with the implements. “Don’t just tell us you like it. What do you like about it, what don’t you like about it, recommendations for alterations, all of that. How does it feel, how could it be improved, everything. You guys have all been through this before and know the drill.”

  She held up a nylon whip. “Who wants to test this one out? I’m not sure I’m happy with it. It’s a new technique.”

  Landry held up a hand before Seth could and ended up with it. He smiled at Bob, who’d come with him tonight. “You don’t mind, do you, pet?”

  Bob grinned. “No, Master. Not in the least.”

  “Where’s Cris?” Eliza asked. She already knew Tilly had flown out to LA that morning with Nick and Lucas for an unplanned trip to handle a snafu on a movie production, but usually Bob travelled with her for work.

  “Home with KC. He threw his back out yesterday giving her horsey rides in the living room.”

  Rusty laughed. “Ah, I remember those days.”

  “When we left, she was painting his toenails.” Landry smiled. “I gave her strict orders to make him take it easy.”

  “Oh, that poor bastard.”

  Landry’s smile turned into a grin. “Quite right. I must say, Eliza, your pet is rather fetching tonight.”

  She grinned, ruffling Rusty’s hair. “See? Even the gay Dom thinks you’re hot in a suit.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Max put on some music. As everyone broke up into their own combinations of partners, Eliza led Rusty over to the bench near where they’d dropped their stuff. She’d picked a couple of implements from the pile, including a metal paddle with holes drilled in it, and something that looked like a heavy PVC pipe but was more flexible than he was used to.

  She finally allowed him to strip, glad to see he was horny. After getting him cuffed and collared and clipped down to the bench, she walked around to his head, a blindfold and ball-gag in her hand.

  “Last requests?”

  He made fish lips at her, and she leaned in for a kiss.

  “Ma’am’s choice,” he said.

  “Good boy. New implements after the warm-up.” She blindfolded and gagged him and got started. Bare-handed spanking, then some Florentine flogging, just to get the blood pumping.

  His and hers.

  She tried the pipe-looking thing first after lightly smacking it against her thigh to get a feel for how dense it was. The first impact was a fraction of her full strength, to gauge how he’d take it. Then she gradually increased the strength of the swats with it until his head came up, a cue he needed a minute to process it.

  She rubbed it in and walked over to his head. “Well?”

  He pushed his ball-gag out far enough he could talk. “Wow. That’s fucking intense. That’s nearly as bad as that fucking Delrin hex-rod Abbey has that you borrowed.”

  “Excellent. Metal paddle next.”

  It was lightweight, but the holes drilled into it changed the way it felt, reducing air friction against it that would cushion an impact a little. Plus the holes themselves made the sensation different.

  After she finally got a head raise out of him, she checked in.

  “I don’t like that one. It’s…weird. Cross between stingy and smacky, but it’s hard to process.”

  She stroked his head. “We’ll talk about it later then.”

  More flogging, to settle him back into a good headspace before she dropped him into a hard and heavy scene. She’d either go lighter and make it last longer, or heavier and shorten the duration. Tonight she knew he could deal with heavier, so she only used one acrylic paddle and one wooden paddle on him before she segued into crops and canes.

  A fine sheen of sweat covered his body when she finished with him twenty minutes later, and the few lingering bruises left from the previous weekend and earlier in the week were now completely covered by fresh welts and marks he’d enjoy all weekend. When she finished she left him clipped to the bench and walked around to his head. Leaving the blindfold in place, she removed his gag, lifted her skirt, and dropped it over his head.

  He knew what was going to happen and already had his mouth open when she pulled his face into her pussy. She held on to his shoulders as he quickly worked her up to her first climax. She hadn’t worn panties under the garter belt, and being used like this after a hard scene was one of his favorite things. Immobile, at her mercy—she knew if she touched his cock too soon he’d likely explode.

  Her pet—tamed and safely drawn into her arms, at her beck and call.

  She pulled away after two orgasms, barely able to stay upright. The ball-gag went back into
his mouth because he’d get loud. After catching her breath, she dug what she’d need out of her bag for the next part of the festivities.

  As soon as she put the cock ring on him, he knew what was going to happen. She could tell from the way his toes curled, his body straining against the clips holding him securely to the bench. The condom rolled onto him likely finished telling the tale.

  She pulled a nitrile glove onto her right hand, lubed her first two fingers, and then stood behind him. No words were necessary, and from the way his hips were already humping the air, she knew he was gone.

  Carefully, she slid the two lubed fingers into his ass, loving the deep rolling moan erupting from him. With her left hand she slowly stroked his cock, her right teasing and milking his prostate. The first orgasm hit pretty quickly, and she relentlessly continued stroking his cock, keeping him hard, her barbarian now a puddle of need and desire as she drove him toward a second one.

  Something else she’d trained him with, but he wasn’t as fond of doing this at the larger parties. She respected that, but the smaller parties were different. As he writhed on the bench, caught in an agonizing ecstasy, she finally got a second one out of him. His entire body went rigid, straining against his cuffs as he orgasmed.

  Then she stopped, removing her fingers from his ass as he collapsed, physically spent and limp on the bench.

  She stripped the glove off inside out, got the condom off him, and quickly cleaned up in the guest bath steps away, where she could still keep an eye on him. Returning to him, she unclipped him and pressed a hand between his shoulders.

  Stay.

  She cleaned up their implements, including wiping down the loaners. After she spread a blanket on the floor by the wall and out of the way, she got him moved and then wiped down the bench so someone else could have it.

  Snuggle time. Blindfold still on, he curled up, head in her lap as she draped another throw over him and let him sip from a bottle of water.

  This was part of the time she loved, the energy still swirling around them. At home they’d fuck and usually fall asleep. Here, she could savor her own headspace and process and just…be for a few minutes.

  Like Rusty could.

  It took him over thirty minutes to finally come up and function again. After she removed the blindfold she stared into his green gaze, tonight dark and lush like a jungle forest, full of emeralds and shadows and his focus on her.

  “Better?”

  He leaned in and kissed her, the way she loved, the subtle tinge of power but deferring to her.

  Always.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” The outer edges of his eyes crinkled in a smile as he licked his lips, down his chin where she knew he could still taste her juices on him.

  “Go ahead and clean up and put on your shorts and T-shirt. Let’s tell them what we thought about them and head home.”

  “For part two?”

  “Absolutely.”

  * * * *

  It was all Rusty could do to focus on the discussion with Cali, Max, and Sean about the implements.

  His mind was already on getting home…and what he’d do to Eliza when they got there.

  If she’d let him.

  That little taste of her wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy him. Maybe he didn’t get physical pleasure from making her come, but mentally and emotionally it revved him up in ways an orgasm couldn’t.

  She was his everything, and he wanted to show her that.

  She eventually took pity on him and they started saying their good-byes. As they headed for the car, she looked up at him. “Do I need to drive?”

  “No, Ma’am. I’m good.”

  He set the bags down so he could open her door for her. She’d let him leave his collar on for the short drive home. There, she unlocked the front door and got the alarm shut off.

  “I’ll walk Booger,” she said. “You go wait for me.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  He was waiting in the bedroom for her, kneeling how he knew she wanted him.

  She stopped in front of him, his mouth practically drooling over her shoes as he stared at her feet.

  “Let me guess what you want to do?” She sounded amused.

  “Please, Ma’am?” The urge had grown nearly to a craving, an unquenchable thirst.

  Need.

  Hunger.

  She stepped around him, and he turned, following, until she was at the end of the bed. She teased him, slowly tapping the toe of her left shoe, knowing what this was doing to him.

  “Oka—oh!”

  He was up and under the hem of her dress before she could even get the second syllable out. With the sweet globes of her ass gripped in his hands, he closed his eyes and swiped his tongue around her clit. The sounds she made sent him beyond any headspace a beating did.

  This was her, raw and passionate and powerful and all her defenses down.

  Only for him.

  He drew the first one out, taking his time and building her up over and over again before finally punting her off the edge by sucking hard on her clit.

  Then he started all over again, needing more.

  Aching for it.

  They ended up sprawled over the end of the bed when her knees finally gave out around the third. Tonight she finally made him stop after the fifth, patting his head through the dress.

  Himself satisfied, he emerged from the darkness and smiled up at her.

  Thoroughly wrecked.

  Thoroughly his.

  She’d never been with another guy, only him, and he didn’t take that for granted or think it meant he didn’t have to do his best every damn time.

  He’d seen hell, lived through it.

  She was his heaven.

  Tonight after he crawled up the bed to her, she rolled onto her side and slung a leg over his hip, perfect alignment for his cock to slide inside her slick pussy.

  Nuzzling the base of his throat, she nipped him there. “Do it, baby.”

  He fucked her slowly, taking his time and knowing she was done for the night, but savoring it with her as he always did.

  He was kissing her when he came and she swallowed every moan, every satisfied ache sated.

  For now.

  He rolled onto his back, her draped over him and his cock still inside her. He loved this, too, fucking her when he was naked and vulnerable and she was still fully or partially dressed.

  She made no sign of moving. “Better, Rus?”

  “Mm-hmm. Thank you, Ma’am.”

  He must have dozed, because when he opened his eyes she was naked and it was dark in the bedroom, the bedside table lamp closed.

  In sleep, she was still tightly snuggled against him.

  Now knowing exactly where she was, he snuggled a little closer and sank back into contented sleep without worries about who might wake him up.

  Chapter Twelve

  Then

  Eliza half-walked, half-dragged Rusty out of her car and inside her house. At least he hadn’t puked in her car on the way home.

  In her bedroom, she settled him in bed, making sure he saw the bucket she left for him on the floor in case he got sick.

  He grabbed for her arm. “Where are you going?” His hoarse, pained voice ripped at her soul.

  She gently squeezed his hand before peeling his fingers off her arm. “I’ll be right back. You stay here and stay in bed, unless you get sick. Hear me? That’s an order.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Another catch in her chest. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Stay,” she whispered. “Be my good boy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She grabbed her practice bag from the closet on her way out. In the living room, she dug out black yoga capris and a form-fitting black tank top she wore under whatever uniform she was wearing at practice and put them on. In her parents’ room, she found an old navy blue ski cap in her dad’s dresser drawer and pulled that on, making sure her hair was tucked in.

  The phone book gave her the info she
needed.

  Before she got into her car, she grabbed what she’d need from the trunk, wanting to be in and out as quickly and quietly as possible.

  It took her fifteen minutes to make the drive. She parked three blocks away on the street in front of a darkened house, but across from one that looked like a party was still in progress, lots of cars and she could hear people out in the backyard. Glancing around, she saw no one was watching as she got out and locked the car, leaving her keys on the ground inside the back passenger tire, where they couldn’t be seen.

  With the strap of the carrying pouch for her Arnis bastons worn cross-ways, she stayed low and moved quickly, through yards, skirting around houses that looked alive within.

  When she reached the house, the mailbox read McElroy.

  Stepping onto the porch, she glanced around before ringing the bell and hoped her smile looked right.

  The older man who answered the door stood maybe two inches shorter than Rusty, and looked a lot like him and the pictures she’d seen of Rusty’s dad, except thinner, borderline scrawny.

  Here she was, a girl, nearly a foot shorter than him. Tiny.

  Harmless.

  “Can I help you, honey?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I think I wrote my friend’s address down wrong, and now my car died and won’t start. I’m trying to find her house. May I please use your phone to call her?”

  “Sure.” He unlocked the screen door and pushed it open, welcoming her inside. “What’s her name?”

  She hoped he wasn’t much of a reader.

  “Nora Roberts.” She stepped to the side, facing him after crossing the threshold, as if waiting for him to lead the way to the phone. Eliza’s gaze quickly swept the house. No sign of a dog, or another person, and only one car sat in the driveway.

  “Don’t know any Roberts.” He closed the front door and walked past her. “Phone’s in here, honey. Follow me.”

  “Thank you, Mister…”

  “McElroy,” he said. “Borden McElroy.”

  “Maybe your wife or kids know them?”