Cirque Du Minuit Read online

  Kelsey steered the conversation back to Wayne’s group of acrobats and the development of their act. To her relief, he seemed to lighten up considerably, happy to talk about the smaller day-to-day dramas associated with the show. The food came and they moved on to reminiscing about their time at the gym in Laguna Hills.

  There was something about Wayne, his smile or the sparkle in his eyes, that was so infectious. After so many weeks of Theo’s dark brooding scowls, Wayne was like a breath of fresh air.

  “We’ll have to do this again,” she said at the end of the meal. “And next time I’m buying.”

  “No, no,” said Wayne. “I’m an old-fashioned guy. I love to take out a pretty girl. If she’s an old friend, even better.”

  A pretty girl. Ten years ago...hell, five years ago...she would have died to hear him say that about her. He’d been so exalted in her eyes, so unreachable. But could she have Wayne now...with her relationship with Theo?

  Hell yeah, she could. Theo wasn’t anything approximating a real boyfriend, but Wayne could be. Wayne was total boyfriend material. She gave him a flirty smile. Some knowledge or emotion played behind his eyes.

  “You adorable thing,” he sighed. “I miss home so much when I see you. Those eyes, that golden hair. That smile. What are you doing tonight?”

  Damn. Kelsey would be expected at Theo’s. She could try to beg out of it, but if he found out it was to spend time with Wayne, he would flip.

  “I have an, um, prior engagement.”

  “With Theo, I guess.”

  Kelsey played it off. “Yeah, but it’s not a date or anything. Just…hanging out together. To be honest, our relationship is mostly professional.” Lies, lies, lies. She was telling lies about Theo to Wayne. Theo would be so angry if he knew. I’d rather not say anything than lie and deceive.

  If Wayne thought she was lying, he didn’t show it. He said, “I haven’t seen you guys back at the Citadel in a while.”

  “We’ve been staying in.” Kelsey didn’t elaborate on the things they’d been doing in Theo’s sparsely furnished room. “Do you go to the Citadel very often?” she asked, looking up at him from under her lashes.

  “Sure, I go. I have to say, I’m getting into it. More than I thought I would. It’s like this crazy, alternative world where the rules are totally different.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  He gave her another one of those disarming, bright smiles. “Maybe you and I can go together sometime. If, uh...if Theo would let you. If he wouldn’t mind.”

  When hell freezes over, Kelsey thought to herself. But she smiled at Wayne and said, “Yeah, maybe. Sure.”

  *** *** ***

  Theo headed to the kitchen, his mind firmly fixed on the woman kneeling upstairs in his room. He liked to make her wait...and worry. All part of his training program. She was proving to be as capable a student in the bedroom as she was in the practice gym. Their act was coming along swimmingly. Their power exchange scenes even more so.

  At the sound of sharp, low male voices, Theo paused outside the door.

  “So your Kelsey project isn’t going according to plan?” It was Manuel, Wayne’s acrobat friend.

  Theo heard some more mumbling, and then, from the Golden Boy himself, “I just want to lay her. I’ve put so much time into her already.”

  “Why does it have to be her? I hear Sarah’s a real slut. Or maybe try that new contortionist from the Ukraine.”

  “Fuck. No. They’re easy. What’s the fun in that? I want Kelsey Cutesy Martin. I want to fuck her up. Break her. It’s the challenge, man.”

  “You want to break her like, evil break her or sexy break her?”

  “However I can get her, that’s how I want her. She’s apparently into that Citadel back room shit. I’ll beat on her if she wants me to. Whatever gets my dick in her pants.”

  “Nice,” the other guy mumbled. “You sicko.”

  Sicko indeed. His instincts about Wayne were right. Kelsey had called Theo a gypsy once, but he wasn’t exactly that. His grandmother had been able to read people like a book though, and he had enough of her blood to spot a two-faced asshole like Wayne a mile away. Not that Theo was worried about Kelsey. Guys like Wayne put on a big act, usually because their insecurities ran so deep. Idiot. If Wayne thought he could break Kelsey, he was barking up the wrong tree.

  Theo took a few steps back down the hall and then approached the kitchen again, whistling loudly. The two men fell silent as Theo crossed to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of wine and two wineglasses, and sauntered back out of the room. He nodded to Wayne as he went. The blank, guileless look Golden Boy returned made Theo want to laugh.

  “Bonne nuit,” he said over his shoulder. Good night, you fucking prick. I’m going to fuck Kelsey Martin now, and I won’t have to break her to enjoy myself.

  Theo took the stairs two at a time and slipped into his room. There was nothing special about it. White, bare walls, nondescript furniture. Utilitarian bed with a retro print comforter and gray fleece blanket on top. There was only one beautiful thing about the room, and she was kneeling beside the table. Kelsey was posed in the way he’d taught her, sitting back on her heels with her legs slightly spread and her hands resting open on her thighs.

  For the moment, Theo ignored her. He opened the wine, tossing the cork in the trash. He was finally reaching a point where he didn’t crave a cigarette with his alcohol. Kelsey was a far more attractive complement. He poured a glass of the dark red liquid and brought it to his nose. He took a sip and then another, studying his submissive in her classic slave stance.

  He’d embarked full scale on a journey of training with her. Not for Michel, or to live up to some expected standard of BDSM mastery. He was training her because she enjoyed it and because she was just so damn gorgeous when she was submitting to him.

  Theo stood to undress, slipping his shirt over his head and pushing his sweatpants down over his rising erection. Her only response was an almost undetectable intake of breath. He heard it though. He was so attuned to her--more so each time they completed one of these sessions.

  He pulled a chair over, lounging across from her line of sight. She remained utterly still, utterly servile. He reached for the wine and took another sip. Waiting to touch her was a pleasure every bit as sensual as enjoying the aroma of a fine wine before one drank.

  Finally he put down his glass and leaned forward, one arm braced on his knee. She still looked forward, back straight, breasts jutting out, perfect little globes. He tapped her under the chin, making a small adjustment to the angle of her face. “Why are you here?” he asked quietly.

  “To serve you, Master.” Her voice was slow and sweet.

  “Come then.” He gestured her forward, smoothing her hair as she bowed her head and lowered her mouth over his cock. She licked him in a long slide to begin, and he had to suppress a shudder. Her warm mouth enveloped him in gentle, practiced suction.

  “Touch me,” he said after a moment, and her hands came up to cradle and caress the base of his cock and his balls. Her fingers played over him while her lips and tongue worked sensual magic. Theo gazed down at the blonde head bowed before him, then he threw back his head and let go, basking in her service. She was making progress. It had only taken a few reprimands, a few punishments before she learned to take more care in her technique.

  After a few minutes he sat up again, easing himself deeper, pushing her limits. She had a strong gag reflex, and probably always would, but she tried. He urged her forward with a hand on the back of the neck each time she retreated. The tears came, as always, perhaps from effort or perhaps from fear. Perhaps from powerlessness. He made a soft sound of encouragement to fortify her.

  Within a couple of minutes, he was nearing his peak. It wasn’t just her improved technique that had his balls drawing up in pleasure. It was the struggle, the effort she put forth to please him. Without warning, he erupted in her mouth, his whole body quaking in bursts of exquisite release. She swallowed
every last drop, delicately, savoring it as she’d been taught. He wiped a tear from her eye before reaching again for his wine.

  “You’re getting better,” he said.

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He let her rest her head against his thigh while he stroked her hair. Occasionally, he shared the wine from his glass, holding it to her lips. The only reason he’d taken two glasses from the kitchen was so Wayne would understand Kelsey was upstairs with him. Theo much preferred to feed and give her drink himself when they were exchanging power. One more way to control, and yet nurture. He let her have one more sip, then pulled her up to sit in his lap. Her pussy felt hot and damp against his thigh.

  He kissed her for a while, his fingers playing over her skin. He pinched and tortured her nipples, one and then the other, until she whimpered pleas into his mouth. He drove fingers into her pussy, avoiding her clitoris. He wanted to keep her unsatisfied for a while.

  He put his fingers to her mouth and let her lick them clean. Then he dipped them into his glass and painted her nipples with wine. He sucked off the burgundy liquid, worrying the tender peaks between his teeth until she struggled, pushing him away. He lowered her back to the floor with a tsk.

  “Hands behind your neck,” he ordered.

  “It hurts!”

  He gave her a warning look. Her eyes filled with tears. “It hurts, Master. Please...”

  “I know,” he said. “Now, hands behind your neck.”

  Slowly, she raised her arms and laced her fingers at the back of her neck, a position that thrust her breasts out even more. He flicked each nipple once or twice, and went for the clamps. She was so afraid of them. She shuddered, making begging sounds up until the moment he applied them and she realized it was all for naught. She took deep, gasping breaths, so the delicate silver chain between the clamps slid across her skin.

  “Go lie on the bed,” he said. “Lie on your back, and keep your hands clasped behind your neck.”

  He nudged her in the right direction. She looked like one big cringe, which wasn’t a bad thing. From the way she walked across the room, the tension in her hips, he knew she was still on the way to orgasm, simmering in her cunt and breasts. Her nipples, before he clamped them, had been hard as little stones. His succulent coccinelle, midnight dark and totally unique.

  Theo let her lie on the bed a while and suffer the bite of the clamps. Finally he went to her, parting her legs. He was already hard again, damn her, but he would last longer this time. He pushed open her pussy lips and kissed her at the apex of her thighs, licking roughly across her clit. She went instantly tense, arching against him. “Oh, Master, please...” she moaned. One more kiss and he left her, bereft and disappointed. Juicy and hot. He crossed to the bathroom to get a condom. She knew what that meant. Now that she was on the pill, they didn’t use them for vaginal sex. Her begging sighs turned to wide-eyed distress.

  He applied a thin coat of lube to what was already on the condom. He’d trained her not to expect any more. She was taking those deep breaths again as he approached the bed, leading with his fully erect shaft. “Master, please--”

  “If you’re not going to ask me to fuck your ass, then hush.”

  “But--”

  “Hush.”

  She gave a lovely whimper. “It hurts when you fuck me there.”

  “It’s not going to hurt as much as what comes after.” He took her legs and raised them up, bracing her ankles against his shoulders. Her whining rose in volume as he prodded against her tight back hole. He entered just a little. “Oh, please. Master--” Her hands came down and her hips bucked up, a pointless attempt at escape. “Please, I don’t like it.”

  He silenced her with a look. “Perhaps not. But I like it. Master wants to fuck your asshole. Put your hands behind your neck.” He gazed at her, waiting. He wouldn’t force her. Eventually she’d give in, submit. He knew the harder it was for her to do the things he asked, the more she enjoyed it when he did them. He gave her clamps a yank. “Be a good girl, and Master will let you come with his cock in your ass.”

  Slowly, so slowly, she returned her hands to their position and relaxed her hips. He put a hand on either side of her, positioning her for his entry, pinning her so she couldn’t get away. She cried then in earnest, panicked, fearful. She always cried, but he paid her no mind. It was okay for her to be afraid, as long as she didn’t fight him or try to get away.

  He advanced again, entering her slowly, looking down to watch her tiny hole stretch around him. Her crying rose in intensity. He grasped her legs to increase her feelings of panic, her feeling of being trapped, at the same time he made soothing sounds to calm her down. He pushed in and out, little trespasses building up to a greater invasion.

  Ah, she was so hot and tight. She was clenching him in her nervousness, but then she relaxed by slow degrees. Her arms, tight against her head, melted back onto the bed. He pushed in a little deeper, then pulled out again. Her whole body shook with the effort to contain him, to give up so much control. He pressed on, halfway, then all the way, in and out. He fucked her with a deliberately slow pace, forcing her to experience the sensation of taking every inch, again and again.

  For him, it was deep, preternatural gratification. Not just the feel of her tight ass massaging his cock, but the knowledge of her surrender, her capitulation to an act that terrified her. As her legs relaxed, he leaned forward and played lazily with her pussy. Her cries transformed by small degrees into moans of pleasure as she bucked her clit against his palm.

  “That feels good, doesn’t it?” He pulled the chain between her breasts to get her attention. Her sex-glazed eyes finally focused on him. “I want you to feel good. I want you to come, and then, when you’re exhausted and drained, when you have no defenses, you’re going to take ten strokes of the cane.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why?”

  “Why do I ever do any of the things I do to you? Because I want to.” It was also partly because she’d gone to dinner with Wayne, but he wouldn’t tell her that. She wouldn’t think it was fair, and in truth it wasn’t. But he could do anything he wanted to, by agreement. This was training, after all.

  He watched her face, watched her try to balance her knowledge of the coming punishment with the ecstasy he was wreaking on her body. He loved her like this, distraught, uncomfortable. Completely disabled by lust. “Does it feel good?” he prompted. “Do you enjoy having your ass fucked?”

  “Yes, Master.” Her voice was docile and resigned. And shaky. He palmed her clit again, resulting in an urgent plea for satisfaction. He fucked her deeper, quickening his pace. His hips banged against the back of her thighs. She dug her heels into his shoulders, arching her back to seek more of his cock, more of his touch. His orgasm was building like a wave inside him, slow to gather but converging to higher and higher heights. The pleasure would ebb and then roll over him with even more intensity.

  “Oh, God,” he groaned, staring down at her. His bad, bad girl was thrusting against him, her hands still obediently clasped behind her neck. He could tell by her voice--and the uncontrolled movement of her hips--that she would come soon. He jerked the chain, eliciting a little shriek of pain from her, and drove into her hard and fast. When she came, clamping around him, the wave in his pelvis crested, shooting spasms through his cock and balls. He grabbed her hips and drove in to the hilt. She was his beautiful fucktoy. His living doll. His slave.

  Her legs drooped, limp now against his chest. He leaned down to remove the clamps. Her ass clenched around him in reaction to the pain as the blood returned to her sensitive nipples. Only then did he withdraw slowly and guide her legs to the floor. He let her rest while he went to the bathroom and washed up. He felt so powerful, so satisfied--and he wasn’t even finished with her yet.

  He took a sip of wine before he returned to her sated figure. She was alert enough now to remember she had a caning coming, and her face reflected the anxiety she felt. Kelsey feared having her ass taken, but she always ended up
enjoying it. In the case of the cane though--she never enjoyed that. It was good for her though, to submit to things that weren’t for her pleasure, but his.

  “Come.” He gestured to the floor at his feet. She was already whimpering. She was too wise by now to beg; he added strokes if she did that. “Head down, ass in the air. The usual position.” She started to arrange herself but he pulled her head up by the hair.

  “Yes, Master,” he prompted.

  “Yes, Master,” she said through tears.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked, massaging her nape. “I haven’t started yet.”

  “Because it’s going to hurt.”

  “Yes, it is. What an obedient girl you are, to take it anyway.”

  He released her and she curled down into the position he’d taught her, with her forehead on the floor, her knees together and her ass presented for punishment. He let her curl her arms beneath her chest because it was still so hard for her not to reach back and cover herself. Eventually, she’d learn to leave them resting beside her head. He left her there to shiver and quake while he went to the closet for the cane. It was rattan, nice and sting-y.

  Before he began, he tapped it lightly against each cheek. She jerked, her body tight with tension. “Count for me, girl.”

  He gave her the first stroke, and she let loose with a cry before she managed to say, “One!”

  He laid two and three above and below the first one, then four and five beside those. This was the point when she used to collapse and roll over, begging for respite. Now she only cried into her hands, pressing her knees together even tighter and curling her toes. “Six! Seven! Oh...”

  He paused a moment, giving her time to collect herself. He’d raised seven lovely pink welts across her bottom. “Three more,” he said over her broken cries. “Three more and we’ll be done.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Put your hands beside your head for the last three. Flat on the floor. Don’t move them.” He tapped the side of her thigh. “Ass up. It’s not over yet.”