With a contented sigh, Cole Blaese stretched his long legs, leaned back in the leather chair, and let the familiar sounds of paddles, floggers, flesh slapping flesh, and moans and groans filtering in from the downstairs dungeon wash over him. Friday nights at Thorns and Roses were the best.
He’d slept like a dead man after his twenty-four-hour shift as an EMT, but after a shower and a microwaved meal, he’d been ready for a night of hanging with his friends at his favorite Seattle BDSM club.
Without moving his head, he listened to two of his best friends chatting about theme nights and casually checked out two passing submissives. The taller blonde, clad in a gorgeous corset, threw him a flirtatious look from under her eyelashes, and he flashed her an absentminded grin. Her step faltered, but when Cole broke eye contact and leaned forward to grab his beer bottle, she continued her walk to the bar. Her friend giggled nervously and gazed over her shoulder at their group.
Holden Montgomery snorted. “How is it possible that you only need to smile and the subs are willing to kneel at your feet. We, humble Doms, need to work for every scene, and they all but beg for your attention.”
“Hardly.” Cole gave a dismissive shrug, placed the bottle to his lips, and tipped his head back. As the cool, slightly bitter beer slid down his throat and Paloma Faith’s mezzo-soprano stroked his ears, his tense shoulder muscles unknotted.
Today’s shift had been more brutal than usual. On normal days, he loved his job: saving lives, alleviating pain and stress. Even the gruesome sights and death didn’t really bother him. He wasn’t unfeeling, he was just a realist. While he had empathy for the victim and their families, he could at least give people a chance of recovery. What did bother him were the cases of neglect, especially when the mistreatment concerned the elderly and the young.
His final call had been to a shady neighborhood where they found a severely dehydrated toddler. Both of the three-year-old’s parents had been present and too stoned or just too careless to care or notice how bad the little girl had been.
“Stop teasing him,” Melissa Sosa interjected. The ER Doctor was the only female in their group of friends and a power to be reckoned with—both inside Thorns and Roses, the BDSM Club they frequented, and outside. “None of us can complain about the sub’s attention, and Cole’s appearance is particularly tense today.”
Cole tipped his bottle her way in a token salute. “Good eye.”
Her left eyebrow slid up in a silent, want to talk?
Almost as imperceptibly, he moved his head from side to side. No!
She backed off.
And this was why Cole loved to hang out with this group. Today, they missed Kevin Santana, who was working as a dispatcher, and Police Detective Ethan Stephenson, who had already left before Cole arrived because he had an early shift tomorrow.
“You can’t deny he’s insanely popular with the women in this club.” Holden stroked his stubbled jaw. As a fire chief, he would be clean-shaven on workdays because a beard would interfere with the seal between a firefighter’s face and their self-contained breathing apparatus or SCBA-mask. When Holden was free from duty, he skipped shaving.
As Melissa and Holden continued their friendly bickering, Cole savored his beer and listened. In a way, Holden was right. While Cole was waiting for Mrs. Right, he didn’t mind sampling the female population, and the women always came back for seconds and thirds. But Cole kept his distance.
Movement in his peripheral vision pulled him from the conversation. Kneeling at a polite distance, head down, one of the single club submissives waited for the group to acknowledge her presence. Cole ignored the snicker from Holden and addressed the tall woman in a really cute pink mini dress. “Yes, Belinda?”
“Master Cole, may I serve you in any way?”
Cole contemplated. Belinda was considered a lightweight. She was into light pain, didn’t want a deeper connection, nor was she interested in true submission. She did, however, like sex. Not someone Cole wanted a relationship with, but he could play with her tonight. No harm in that.
“Sure, pet.” He rose from the leather recliner and nodded at his friends. “See you later.”
“Nope.” Holden tossed back the remainder of his Scotts and rose also. “I’m calling it a night. I have an early shift tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here for a while,” Melissa confirmed, “Maybe I'll nab myself a subbie as well.” She gave Cole and Belinda a mock-serious glare. “Don’t you kids do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Her remark made Cole grin. “I won’t make any promises.”
Silently waiting with a patience that came from personality and training, Cole idly tapped his fingers against his thigh in time with the beat from London After Midnight emanating from the dance floor and watched Belinda gracefully rise from her kneeling position. She was a lovely woman with strong calves and a nicely heart-shaped ass. She also had an even temperament and a quiet nature, which Cole could appreciate. After working a stressful job and dealing with life-or-death situations on a daily basis, he didn’t want any drama in his free time.
Cole smiled and picked up his bag. “Follow me, pet. Stay one step behind, but so that I can see you.” On their way to the dungeon, Cole questioned Belinda about her wants and needs and discussed her limits. Like he had suspected, she wanted a light scene, no permanent marks, and was mostly focused on the sex. As he asked his questions and tried to convince his body that Belinda was just the woman he wanted, Cole wondered about his body’s lackluster response to the sparsely covered woman following him like an obedient puppy. When he passed other submissives, Cole tried to ignore their lingering looks and lowered gazes.
Maybe Holden isn’t talking out of his ass.
Cole halted at a free St. Andrew’s Cross in the communal room. Belinda was an exhibitionist and would get off on the stares of the other patrons. Although Cole himself couldn’t care less if people watched, he usually preferred the private rooms as he found them more…intimate. However, he always gave a submissive what she needed, and for Belinda, it was showing off her body to others.
So that was what Cole would do for her tonight.
“Strip and stand in the present position in front of the cross. You know the position?”
“Legs spread shoulder-width apart and my fingers laced behind my neck?”
“That’s the one.” Cole went to one knee and took his sweet time rifling through his bag. From his peripheral vision, he noticed people were quietly gathering around the scene area.
Perfect for an exhibitionist like Belinda.
Rising with his softest flogger and a set of wrist and ankle cuffs in his hands, he assessed the submissive. She stood in the perfect position, her nipples were hard and protruded from her chest in blatant arousal, and her chest, neck and face were a lovely pink.
What an excellent start.
“How are you doing, pet?”
“I’m doing great, Sir.” She bit back a groan as he placed his hand over her mound and cupped her engorged pussy.
“Are you being an obedient little slut for me?”
“Hmm, yes—yes, I am.” She nodded and he dipped a finger between her folds.
Pulling back his hand, he made a show of licking his finger clean, and her pupils dilated. He fisted her hair and whispered in her ear. “Can you see all these people watching us? They can see how you give me access to every part of your body like an obedient, little slut. Does that turn you on?”
She panted. “Yes, Sir, it does.”
“Turn around and show us what a naughty ass you have. I’m going to beat on that ass for a while, and then I’m going to take it hard and fast.”
Cole chuckled when her knees wobbled, and he steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.
After buckling Belinda to the cross, he used his hand to warm her skin before he took his time to bring the blood to the surface with his flogger, making sure to keep his strokes light and even. Every flogger could hurt, but when applied with minimal force, the heavier ones felt more like a massage, and that was what he was aiming for with this submissive.
It didn’t take long before Belinda was swaying with each slap and was nearing subspace. Since he kept time with the music, her ass twitched rhythmically, and he smiled with self-satisfaction. There was a reason he was popular with the submissives. More than one submissive had mentioned that Cole looked like Denzel Washington when playing as reporter Gray Grantham in The Pelican Brief. However, not only his dark eyes, symmetrical face, and strong physique were responsible for his reputation. Cole was a skilled and versatile Dominant and a master at reading body language.
Cole tossed his flogger aside and undid his leathers. After getting more tools from his bag, he sheathed his dick and liberally coated the latex with lube. Then he prepared her asshole, placed a buzzing vibrator against her clit, and lined up his cock with the slick, puckered ring. Although his heart wasn’t in it, Cole made sure they both had a good time, and when he unstrapped her from the cross, Belinda had a dazed expression and the countenance of a well-satiated female. Keeping an eye on the submissive, Cole cleaned the equipment, and made sure Belinda drank some water and fed her some chocolate. She didn’t require much aftercare, and soon she was ready to go. Her quick retreat left him behind feeling empty and bereft. Cole wanted more, but he wouldn’t settle for just any woman. He wanted his special babygirl to cuddle and discipline.