Bondage Ranch 5: His Little Treasure (12 page)

What Valerie offered was a practical deal. A marriage of convenience. How many times had gay people ended up in such arrangements in order to pass in a hostile world? It amused Emma that she and Valerie would be doing the reverse.

“You’re smiling. Is that a yes?”

Emma took a deep breath. Valerie was right. It was now or never. She didn’t want to go home with more regrets than she already had. “It’s a yes. But why do you want to do it? You’d get someone else easily enough.”

“I have my reasons.” Valerie reached out and stroked Emma’s face with unexpected tenderness. For a moment Emma thought Valerie was coming on to her, but the hand was quickly pulled away. “And I love you as a friend. I reserve the right to enlist the aid of someone or multiple someones because I know that I don’t do it for you myself. Do you understand?”

“Um—”

“Agree, or we don’t have a deal.”

“No sex.”

“Unless you ask for it, no sex of any kind,” Valerie agreed.

Wasn’t it Valerie who told her that it was important to negotiate limits ahead of time and not let the sub change their mind within a scene, because she could get carried away? “I won’t be asking.”

“That’s fine. I won’t be trying to make you ask either. Within those limits, we’re going to make Diego very, very jealous and see just exactly what he’s missing.”

“I don’t need to make him jealous, Valerie. I just want to make him proud of me.” Emma bit her lip. That was more than she intended to say. She wanted to be over him already. Or with him. And she wasn’t either.
And I sure am lousy about faking it.

To Emma’s surprise, Valerie didn’t razz her about it. Instead, she just grinned. “Oh, and we’re also going to make him very, very hard.”

That seemed more likely, actually. Guys liked to see girls with girls, didn’t they? She didn’t think Diego would get jealous. But he would probably move on to someone else if he saw her with Valerie. And then he’d never play tricks on her like with the mirror, wouldn’t dump her suitcase, wouldn’t try to tie her up with a scarf—ever again.

That’s what I want, right?

The thought made her stomach tighten painfully. But she didn’t think any of that would happen again anyway. She’d used a safe word in front of an audience. She’d embarrassed him. He wouldn’t want to play with her again.

Valerie got up suddenly. “I’ll be back to get you in an hour. Don’t forget to eat something. There’s some snacks in the kitchen. I have to talk to some people. Arrange things. You’re going to have the time of your life.” Valerie paused at the door, but before Emma could ask more questions, Valerie said, “This is going to be great. Trust me.” She winked.

“But I just—” She didn’t bother to complete her sentence because Valerie was out the door.

She pushed herself off the bed and headed to the door, but when she opened it and looked down the hall, Valerie was nowhere to be seen. Emma supposed she should eat more—a tart alone was not going to get her through the day. She headed away from the dungeon, toward the Allisons’ living room and kitchen, hoping not to run into too many people, especially people who’d heard about where Constance’s jewels had been found. Dylan, resplendent in a gold-and-purple velvet frock coat, looking every bit the eighteenth-century dandy, was holding court in the living room. He glanced her way but then returned to his conversation with a couple she didn’t know. She slipped through the kitchen and almost literally ran into Alex.

To her surprise, Alex gave her a hug. And then just as quickly released her. “Sorry, that was nonconsensual,” Alex said. “We’ve been worried about you.”

Oh, great. Everyone is talking about me
. “Nothing to worry about,” said Emma. “But thank you anyway.” She moved past Alex to the kitchen table, where an impressive array of half sandwiches was laid out.

“The ham and cheese is the best,” said Alex. “Unless you don’t like ham. Or cheese. Hmm.”

Emma looked at Alex, curious. She hadn’t gotten the impression Alex was given to babbling. Small talk always made her feel uneasy, because she was never clear how to respond. She figured if she waited, Alex would say whatever it was she really wanted to say.

“So how are things between you and Diego?”

Ugh
. She didn’t want to talk about him. “We had some fun. Now we’re done. He’s a little too pushy for me.”

“Doms are supposed to be a bit pushy. It’s no fun if you have to tell them to tell you what to do.”

“Well, maybe I’m not really very submissive then.” Although Alex was right. She didn’t want to tell Diego what to do or how to do it. He seemed to have some pretty good ideas. Tipping over her suitcase had just startled her, that was all. Picking up the scarf afterward had been arrogant, but it had also turned her on a little. She responded to him out of reflex, a lifetime of training telling her not to let men walk all over her. But she did want the energy Diego brought to her life.

“People have said that about me,” said Alex. “They think that submission means weakness, or that I’ll just give in all the time. They think that because I’m strong, because I can order people around, that I’m not a ‘true’ submissive. But I’m just not their submissive. The way Dylan and I have our relationship structured may not be everyone’s cup of tea. But it works for us. And I really believe that when I kneel and serve him, what I feel is as deep as anything any 24/7 full-time slave experiences. Different, but still powerful.”

“Maybe Diego is just not the right man for me.” Plenty of fish in the sea, wasn’t that what Valerie said? “It’s one thing to be topped, but I don’t like feeling like I have no power at all.”

“And Diego doesn’t let you have any power?”

She flashed back. No, that wasn’t quite true, because he’d asked her permission, reminded her she had a safe word, and tried to read her all along the way. Every scene was for her benefit at least as much as his, but when he’d dumped her suitcase, well, that hadn’t been negotiated at all. He’d stepped past being a sexy top and started trying to run her life.

The reason she felt like she had no power was precisely because the scenes were all about her. He had a huge affect on her, and she wasn’t sure she had any emotional impact on him at all.

Alex didn’t wait for an answer. “Sometimes all two people can manage is one super-hot scene, and then in private it’s different. Or the magic can’t strike twice. I guess I was thinking, after watching you guys play that once—well, twice—that you might have something special going on. I want to apologize for coming over and interrupting that second scene. I thought I should. But what I wanted to do after watching you two was go get Dylan to do the same thing to me that Diego was doing to you.”

Emma started. What Diego had been doing had definitely been getting her going, but she thought it was just her. “I’m sure you two have hot scenes all the time. You’re experts at this. Everyone says so.”

Alex laughed. “Oh, there are experts here. We’re just the ones with a nice house to host in. There’s a reason we like getting our kinky friends together now and then. We aren’t swingers, and we don’t play with others—well, not very often. But we draw inspiration for our own relationship from what other people do. I like to think that the circle goes all the way around, and that Bondage Ranch is one big place where everyone learns from each other. Did you see the pony races at noon yesterday?”

Men and women dressed up as ponies with butt plug tails and impossible heels, prancing around a course. It hadn’t been her thing, but it had been interesting to watch. “Yes.”

“And the primals are having a bonfire tonight. Dylan and I went last year, and we’re not into the whole primal thing, but we still learned something. There’s variety in the dungeon and out. Tomorrow morning Bruce is going to do his rope demo. I think James is going to join him to talk about how chains can be used for bondage. For all that Bruce is an expert, I remember him saying that he was going to learn from James, because they do things differently.”

“Uh, okay. What or who is a primal?”

Alex smiled. “Like most words, everyone who is involved might identify it a little differently. Some of us are into kink because we’re into structure, or ritual. Top, bottom, master, slave—the sense of order gives us the safety to release our desires. Primals are almost the opposite end of the spectrum, I’d say. They embrace the disorder, the animals inside themselves. They’d rather play with fingernails and biting than with whips and chains. A few who come to Bondage Ranch never step inside the building at all, preferring to stay outside with the elements even when it rains. But the nice thing here is that you can cross over. Sample.”

“Huh.” Emma had to admit she liked her structure. But there had been plenty of structure with the ponies, and it still hadn’t been her thing. “So it’s kind of anything goes?”

“It still has to be safe and consensual. Just because someone identifies as a primal doesn’t mean that they are going to forget to use a condom or fail to honor a safe word. We all want to live to come back here and have fun the next time.”

Emma breathed a sigh of relief. There was a lot about BDSM she didn’t know. She piled a roast beef sandwich on a paper plate and added a few carrots and a dollop of dip.

“Sodas and water is in the fridge,” said Alex.

“Thank you.” Alex’s fridge was twice the size of her own, but Emma supposed it had to be. Emma rummaged around, looking for her favorite brand of diet cola. She looked up just in time to see Valerie hovering in the doorway, gesturing to Alex.

“Excuse me,” said Alex.

“What are you up to?” asked Emma of Valerie.

Valerie just grinned. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

* * * *

The bonfire had started small, but it was getting bigger by the moment. The sounds of drums filled the evening air, along with the scents of burning wood and citronella. Diego sat cross-legged facing the fire, basking in its heat, his clothes in a pile near the edge of the clearing twenty feet away. When he was playing, he liked to remain dressed, a subtle display of power to accentuate the difference between himself and his sub. But he had no hang-ups about his body, and it was a nice enough evening. The bonfire kept everything warm.

Around him, most everyone was naked. The fetish wear so popular in the dungeon and the Ranch in general was hardly in evidence. A few people wore collars. Others wore paint on their bodies. Several were already making out, having sex, or wrestling.

A blonde and buxom woman crawled in front of him. She was beautiful, curved in all the right places, her breasts hanging down full, her tummy soft and rounded. “Want to play?” she asked, her eyelashes moving in a staccato rhythm that was more blink than flutter. She lifted her hands, curling them in a clawlike fashion, and Diego could see that her nails were painted lavender and were quite long. It was clear what sort of play she was offering. It would be rough, animalistic, and his back would probably be thoroughly scratched at the end. It was just the sort of thing to get him out of his head and into his body. It would help him forget the mistakes he’d made with Emma.

He was tempted. He locked gazes with her. She held his for a moment. At first he thought she’d lowered it out of respect—it was often a ritual with the primals, he noticed, to stare each other down until one submitted. But if that was how it started, she turned it into a thorough look over his body before raising her gaze to his again.

Oh so tempting. But he shook his head. “You’re a beautiful woman, but not now.”

“Later, maybe. I’m Desi.”

“Diego.”

Desi grinned and moved on, her ass swaying as she crawled on the dirt. For most, crawling was submissive, possibly even debasing. The way she did it, it was predatory.

You made a mistake, Diego told himself. Time to move on. But he didn’t feel like moving on. He wanted Emma’s skin pressed against his again. He wondered how she would react to the scene here, where everyone was naked. She’d never venture here on her own, of course. She’d only come if someone took her. Would probably only take her clothes off if someone told her to. And then she’d love every minute of being naked. He didn’t think she was a primal, exactly. He couldn’t imagine her growling and clawing. But she’d love being exposed. Being watched.

From the point of view of the people here, why should human beings alone of God’s creatures go and get a room to have sex? He wasn’t fully on board with that, but he could see they had a point. A few feet away, a woman moaned as she was filled by her partner, a large hirsute man. They were both dusty from the ground, but now they were having sex in the missionary position, her legs wrapped around him.
How traditional
. Diego chuckled. It didn’t matter. It was beautiful, whether they were in love or just giving each other pleasure for the evening.

He turned his attention back to the fire and tried to empty his head. He didn’t really want to be caught up in the sights. Even with his eyes focused ahead, he could hear the groans, growls, and grunts of the people around him. He tried to blank his mind. He admitted it was a strange place to meditate, but he could never focus in an empty, soundless room. There was so much going on around him that his mind couldn’t fixate on Emma, and that was the important thing. He needed some distance from her so he could think about her clearly and either let her go and move on or make a plan to win her back.

Not thinking about a plan now or moving on. Just the fire. The drums. The sounds.

For a while, he managed to pull it off.

“Gonna sit here all night?” said a familiar voice.

He turned his head to see Alex Allison. She’d compromised between modesty and the primal dress code, wearing only a thong and a bra. His gaze moved swiftly up to her face. He couldn’t fault himself too much for looking, but she was another man’s wife after all. He looked around for Dylan, but apparently Alex was there alone.
Odd.

“I don’t play with married women,” he said, gently.

“I don’t play without my husband.” She sat down next to him. “Do you sit around and mope with married women?”