billion book
On all fours
Cathleen’s heels clicked on the polished concrete, a staccato rhythm lost amidst the moans and sharp slaps echoing through the dimly lit hall. Velvet ropes created islands of debauchery in a sea of eager observers. Her gaze flitted around, trying to anchor herself in this new reality.
She paused near one such island. A woman, her back arched in submission, was being secured to a bench. The tall figure shrouding her in darkness moved with precision, the leather straps tightened across pale wrists and ankles, a belt cinching at the waist. Escape was a fantasy here.
In the subdued lighting, green eyes glinted briefly at Cathleen before they vanished behind a blindfold. The woman in black whispered to her captive, eliciting a nod and a smile that seemed too serene for the circumstances. Standing upright, the Dom lady noticed Cathleen’s stare. The woman winked at Cathleen, and it sent a shockwave down Cathleen’s spine, a silent challenge cast before she turned to her table of implements.
The table was an arsenal of pain, each item laid out with care-a testament to the infliction to come. The Dom lady’s fingertips grazed over cold metal and stiff leather, pausing at a wooden paddle that promised a thud unlike any other. Cathleen watched the scene, almost against her will, as the woman selected it, hefting its weight with practiced ease.
A crack split the air, and Cathleen’s heart vaulted into her throat. She watched, transfixed, as the paddle met flesh, the sound of vulgar applause for the performance unfolding. The sub’s body jerked, but her lips curled into a bitten crescent of ecstasy.
Cathleen darted a glance at Xavier, searching his face for a sign-any sign. But he was a statue carved from ice and shadow, watching the scene unfold with detachment.
Again, the paddle struck, a moan rippling through the hushed spectators. It was a symphony of pain and pleasure, discordant and raw. And Cathleen stood there, caught between revulsion and a dark, creeping fascination, her breath hitting her chest.
The place smelled of a musky blend of leather and sweat. Cathleen’s breath hitched, each pulse a hammer against her ribs. Xavier’s gaze bore into her, sharp as the crack of the paddle in the still room.
“I didn’t expect this to be what entertains you,” he murmured, his voice low, a dangerous undercurrent swirling beneath the words. His eyes held hers, unblinking, as if challenging her to look away.
“You see, Cat, there is sexy in suffering.” The statement hung between them, provocative, demanding a response.
“Xavier, this is different,” Cathleen shot back, her voice trembling despite her resolve. “All these instruments are to hurt people. It’s weird.”
A chuckle rumbled from Xavier’s chest, a sound that skittered down Cathleen’s spine. “You wanted this Cat, not me.” His eyes searched hers, icy and expectant. “You have been starving me of sex because you wanted to be tied and wanted to know the real me. Well, Katalina, this is me, and this is my world.”
Cathleen’s heart raced, her words caught in a tangle of fear and desire. “I want this. But…”
He cut her off, his hand lifting to direct her gaze back to the woman on the bench. “I know this goes against the narrow view that you have, but look at her.”
Cathleen’s eyes fixed on the contorted bliss etched across the submissive’s face. Xavier’s voice was a whisper, insistent. “Look at her face; she is in heaven right now, but also in a lot of pain. But she loves it…”
The subwoman moaned again, the sound raw and visceral.
A long silence stretched, laden with the weight of unsaid things, before Cathleen finally spoke. “She’s enjoying it.”
It was an admission, a surrender to the unsettling truth before her. Xavier’s expression remained unreadable, but the air shifted, charged with the acknowledgment of Cathleen’s realization.
“Come on,” Xavier urged, his grip firm on Cathleen’s arm as he pulled her away from the spectacle of moans and leather. The air was thick with a musk she couldn’t name; it clung to her skin, an unwelcome caress.
Cathleen’s steps faltered as they entered another session. Chains clinked softly, a metallic symphony to the scene before her. In this session, there were female and male subs. They wore collars, and some wore cuffs. Submission was worn like badges of honor. Her throat tightened at the sight, a mix of curiosity and revulsion swirling within.
“What is allowed here?” Her voice barely rose above the hum of activity around them.
“Xavier…” She called again when silence met her question. He turned, a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with something dark and unspoken.
“Out here on the main floor, anything happens but no sex.” His tone was casual, as if discussing the weather, not the array of kinks unfurling around them.
“So no sex?” she pressed, needing clarity amidst the chaos.
“No sex, Cat.”
Her mind reeled, trying to reconcile the man she knew with the world he navigated with ease. Before she could voice another concern, a man strode past with a leash in his hand, drawing her gaze downward. A redhead crawled at his heels on all fours, her submission as tangible as the collar snug against her neck. Cathleen’s stomach lurched a visceral reaction that had her turning her head away, fighting the surge of unease.
“I won’t do that to you,” Xavier murmured, a thread of amusement still lacing his words. “Even though you will look so fucking beautiful on all fours, maybe with a gag in your mouth to keep you from throwing insults my way.”
His vision for her, painted in crude strokes, made her skin crawl. She clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth to stifle the regret that begged to spill forth. She refused to let him see her flinch and refused to give him the satisfaction. But the tremor in her gut betrayed her, a silent scream against the bindings she feared might one day claim her.