Safe Harbor

Chapter Eleven

On Wednesday afternoon, Mac vocally protested when Sully wanted to go downstairs to work out.

“You need to rest your leg another day or two, Master.”

Sully still heavily relied on his cane. “Not exercising is what got me in trouble.”

“Master, I don’t want you to hurt yourself again. Just relax today and—”

“Stop, slave.”

Clarisse looked up at Sully’s sharp tone. Mac’s face reddened before his gaze dropped to the floor.

“Go bring it and meet me in the playroom,” Sully ordered.

“Now.”

Mac disappeared to their bedroom and returned a moment later carrying a punishment cane. He followed Sully to the playroom.

They left the door open.

Clarisse heard their voices. Curiosity got the better of her. She quietly walked down the hallway and peeked through the open door.

Mac knelt on the floor, his head bowed.

“What have I told you about talking back, slave?”

“I’m sorry, Master. I’m worried about your leg.”

“What is the proper way to express your opinion?”

“I ask to talk with you.”

“And did you?”

“No, Master. I’ve earned twenty-five.”

“Over the bench. Now.”

Mac complied. She gasped when he stood and she realized despite that the fact he was about to get smacked, his cock stood proud and rigid.

Holy crap!

Mac leaned over one of the benches, where Sully quickly delivered the blows. Red stripes crisscrossed Mac’s ass and upper thighs, but not once did she hear him cry out.

Pain in her fingers made her realize she’d grabbed hold of the door frame and was hanging on for dear life. She couldn’t bring herself to leave.

Sully walked across the room and picked up a tube of lotion, then returned to Mac and applied it to his flesh. Clarisse didn’t know how to reconcile the tender gesture with the punishment she’d just witnessed.

When Sully finished, he gently patted Mac on the back.

“Finished.”

Mac rose from the bench, then knelt in front of Sully again.

“Thank you, Master.”

Sully’s fingers twined in Mac’s hair. “Feeling better?”

“Yes, Master.” Mac nuzzled his forehead against Sully’s thigh.

“I’m going downstairs to work out. You may come with me to keep an eye on me, if you want. I promise I won’t overdo it.”

“Thank you, Master. I will.”

“Then put this away and get some clothes on.”

Sully handed Mac the cane. Mac stood. When he spotted Clarisse by the door, he smiled. She ducked into the hallway and leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. Mac appeared, carrying the cane.

“You all right, sweetie?”

She nodded. She couldn’t look him in the eye, but when her gaze dropped to the floor, she found herself staring at his erect cock.

Clarisse swallowed hard and looked up at Mac’s smiling face.

He winked. Then he turned and walked down the hall. The angry red stripes prominently crisscrossed his ass.

“Are you okay?”

Sully’s voice startled her. She turned. “Yeah.”

He leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest and holding his walking cane. “Want to talk about it?”

“It’s between you two.”

He pushed off from the wall. “You live here. I do care about your feelings.”

“I don’t have any say in the matter.” She turned to go, but he reached out and touched her arm. Not grabbing, yet the gesture stopped her anyway.

“Clarisse,” he softly said, “you have to understand it’s who he is.

What he needs.”

“I don’t know if I can.” She returned to her room and shut the door. A few minutes later, she heard the men go downstairs. Then the faint sound of music filtered through the floor.

She couldn’t get the sight of Mac’s erect cock out of her mind.

How could punishment excite him? Yeah, she understood the theories behind what they did, but it didn’t make it any easier to digest.

She also didn’t understand why it was suddenly so important to her that she do.

The next afternoon she drove the Bug and visited Uncle Tad by herself. She tried to visit him every day. With the worst of her bruises fading, it was a relief not to pancake makeup on her face. He welcomed her in, and they settled on the couch to talk.

“What’s on your mind, little girl? You doing okay? You look worried.”

Clarisse forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

He scowled as much as he could with his face half frozen by the stroke. “You’d better not be considering moving.”

She blushed. “What do you mean?”

He gripped her hand with a strength she didn’t think he could possess. “Sully and Mac are good men. I’ve known them for years.

Dammit, I don’t want to worry about you being on your own and falling for some asshole who’s gonna beat your brains out and finish what Bryan started!”

“Uncle Tad—”

“No!” He pulled himself to his feet and turned on her, shaking his finger at her like she was a child. “You were so all-fired worried to protect my feelings? Then you listen to me. You don’t even think about moving out of there, or I swear to Jesus I’ll have another stroke just to spite you!”

Clarisse tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help it. “All right, Uncle Tad. I promise I’ll stay with them for now.”

“No, not ‘for now.’ That’s bullshit. You stay with them until I say otherwise, got it? Don’t make me guilt trip you.”

“All right, all right. Fine. I promise.” Was it a promise she could keep?

She’d spent the night before dreaming of Mac tying her up and spanking her before making love to her—not exactly something she’d expected. Agreeably a damn sight better than her nightmares of Bryan trying to kill her, but when she awoke she was left with a dull, empty ache in her heart.

Not to mention an uncomfortably erotic throbbing and dampness between her legs.

Tad smiled, apparently knowing he’d won the battle. “That’s better.”

Saturday, the morning of the party, Clarisse helped Mac in the kitchen with preparations. She still didn’t know how she’d handle the night. Sully invited her to watch and mingle if she wanted. If she felt more comfortable, she could close herself in her room for the evening.

Either way, their guests had already been informed of her presence so there would be no misunderstandings.

Mac loaned her his MP3 player and Sully’s noise-cancelling headphones he sometimes used while working. Between those and the TV, there would be no way she could hear anything…if she so chose.

By eight o’clock that evening, Mac had rearranged the living room. He moved a couple of the benches from the playroom out to the living room and locked Sully’s office door.

Mac looked handsome in jeans and a black button-up shirt. He still wore his leather collar. Sully had dressed similarly, only in a white shirt.

She’d had the Mac dream several more times, each ending the same way, with Mac’s sweet cock plunging into her eager body. That would never happen in real life, duh. Despite his sweet reassurances that he thought she was pretty, he was— hellooo— gay.

Add to the mix his blatantly obvious devotion to Sully and she felt a little jealous for a whole bunch of irrational reasons she couldn’t explain or deny.

The house phone rang at a quarter to nine. Sully answered, then buzzed the gate code to allow the caller in. Mac pulled Clarisse in for a hug.

“The first guests are here. You’re welcome to stay or go. It’s up to you.”

Curiosity had gotten the better of her. “I’ll stay for a little while, at least.” She’d pulled on sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt of Mac’s that hung nearly to her knees.

Mac left her in the kitchen and walked downstairs to greet their guests. Sully had turned the TV off and put on music. “Curious?”

She blushed. “Yeah.”

He limped over. “You do realize I love him and would never do anything I thought would harm him, right?”

She nodded as his grey gaze impaled her. An unquenchable need to understand Mac’s relationship with Sully had taken over. She’d gladly escaped Bryan’s abuse. Why would anyone willingly subject themselves to punishment?

Why did he trust Sully so much?

Why couldn’t she?

And why the fuck did it matter so much to her?

Mac returned with their guests, a man and a woman. Mac carried a large duffel bag. The woman wore a trench coat, impossibly high stiletto heels, and a black leather collar around her neck. The guy wore blue jeans, a chambray shirt, and a brown leather vest. They both looked like average people.

Sully introduced her. “Clarisse, this is Bob and Jenna.”

She shook hands with them and exchanged greetings before Sully led them into the living room. Jenna slipped off her coat, which Mac took for her. Beneath it, she wore a black leather corset that pushed her breasts up and left her nipples exposed. Her frilly short skirt testified to the fact that she hadn’t worn any panties, just a garter belt and stockings. She reminded Clarisse of a pornographic ballerina.

Clarisse understood why Mac had laid decorative throw covers on all the furniture.

As other guests arrived, Mac helped them with their things. A husband and wife couple, Alex and Doreen, with Doreen obviously submissive to her husband. Again, Alex wore slacks and a button-up shirt and could have been on his way to dinner. Doreen wore knee boots and a full skirt that skimmed her knees. She’d unbuttoned her loose blouse to her waist to expose the black bustier she wore underneath. Around her left wrist, she wore a silver charm bracelet with small bells that tinkled every time she moved.

The last couple, the woman was in charge. The man, Mike, wore a high leather collar that kept his chin up and looked uncomfortable.

Clarisse stayed in the kitchen as she listened and observed, feeling critical and curious at the same time.

The woman, Yvette, had short, spiked, bright orange hair. She gave Mac a huge hug and left her arm draped around him while she talked with Sully. Then she looked at Mike. “What are you doing standing there, boy?”

“Sorry, Ma’am.” He started unbuttoning his shirt.

“That’s better.” Yvette returned her attention to Sully and Mac as the man stripped, neatly folded his clothes and laid them on top of the rolling suitcase they’d brought, and then knelt before her.

He wore a leather harness that circled his waist and passed between his legs and…

Clarisse tried not to stare. She couldn’t help herself. The wicked metal cage, composed of several rings, encompassed his balls and cock.

Yvette hooked her arm through Mac’s. Clarisse wanted to walk over and push her away from him.

Then Sully caught Clarisse’s eye from across the room. “Mac, bring me something to drink, please,” he ordered.

Yvette released his arm and he headed to the kitchen. Sully still talked to the woman, but his gaze never wavered from Clarisse.

Mac walked into the kitchen and fixed Sully a drink. “You okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah. Just going to stand here and stare for a while,” she tried to joke, her gaze still locked on Sully, unable to look away.

He patted her on the back before returning to Sully’s side. Sully took the drink, thanked him, then ordered him to kneel on the floor next to him. With that, he lifted an eyebrow at Clarisse before returning his full attention to Yvette.

Clarisse blushed.

If she didn’t know any better, it was as if he’d read her mind, had sensed her jealousy seeing the other woman acting that friendly with Mac.

Clarisse fixed herself a plate of food and leaned against the far counter to eat, out of sight of the living room. A moment later, Jenna walked in carrying a bottle of wine and looking for a corkscrew.

Clarisse helped her rummage through drawers, found it, and handed it to her. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She set the bottle on the counter to open it. “You’ve never seen a party like this, I bet.”

Her friendly smile couldn’t be denied a reply. Clarisse reached over to help steady the bottle as Jenna worked on the cork. “No, can’t say as I have.”

“We don’t bite.” She giggled. “Well, actually Yvette does bite, but only people who want to be bitten.”

“I’ll pass.”

As Jenna made progress with the cork, they shifted the bottle to give her a better grip. “So do I. I’m a sensual slut, not a pain slut,” she said and giggled again. The cork gave way with a pop. Jenna handed Clarisse the corkscrew. “Thanks for the help. Feel free to ask me anything, I like to talk about the lifestyle. Bob and I host the local Munch.” At Clarisse’s obviously confused look, Jenna smiled. “It’s like a vanilla dinner where we get together and eat and talk.”

Weird. This wasn’t scrapbooking or bowling. This was whips and chains. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jenna returned to the living room while Clarisse finished her food.

Stay or go? She felt plain, frumpy and underdressed—

overdressed, actually—in her sweats and T-shirt. The women all looked beautiful, hair and makeup and nails done. All she’d done was run a brush through her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail.

She ducked outside through the back sliders and walked around the porch to the stairs. She had a load of laundry in the dryer that should be finished. She took her time sorting and folding, and then she grabbed paper towels and spray cleaner and started wiping down the washer and drier even though they didn’t need it. She cleaned the downstairs bathroom. She ran a bucket of mop water and started on the tile floor when she heard footsteps on the stairs.

The door opened. “You in here, sweetie?” Sully called.

She tensed. “Yeah, I’m here.”

He closed the door behind him and walked into the laundry alcove. “You don’t have to do this tonight,” he softly said.

Clarisse opted for forced chipperness. “That’s all right. No one will be down here tonight. I meant to do it today and got sidetracked.”

“It doesn’t need it.”

“Still has to be done.”

“Clarisse,” he firmly said.

She tensed and forced herself to keep breathing slowly and steadily. “What?”

“Please look at me.”

She turned. If only he wasn’t so ruggedly handsome. His good looks differed from Mac’s easy, open charm. Sully’s hard face spoke of determination and an iron backbone, his smiles warming his face when he chose to use them.

“Answer me truthfully. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just…easing into things.”

“I won’t let her touch Mac again.”

She blinked.

Sully smiled at her obvious surprise. “You looked like you wanted to rip her arm off.”

Clarisse blushed, grabbed the mop, and busied herself swabbing the floor. Not knowing what to say in reply, she kept her mouth shut.

Sully watched her, knew better than to push her. He hadn’t been sure he’d read her reaction correctly until he said that.

Without another word he returned to the party, an idea forming in his mind. She felt jealous, had feelings for Mac. He stifled his envy that those feelings weren’t for him.

He could, however, use it to his advantage.

By the time Clarisse returned upstairs, Sully had stripped Mac while Yvette tied Mike to one of the benches in the living room and started warming him up. Sully didn’t say anything to Mac about his brief talk with Clarisse. An hour later, while Doreen talked with Clarisse, Sully ordered Mac to fetch his wrist and ankle cuffs.

Doreen squealed. “Ooh! Sully’s going to play with Mac! I love watching them play!” Doreen had shed her blouse, but her bustier didn’t expose her breasts the way Jenna’s did. Like a high-heeled force of nature, she latched onto Clarisse’s arm and led her to the playroom, following Sully and the others.

Sully had counted on Doreen’s enthusiasm, from the way she’d befriended Clarisse, to get Clarisse into the playroom. If that hadn’t worked, he’d been prepared to play with Mac in the living room despite how it would change their routine.

Mac fetched the requested implements as Sully unbuttoned his shirt and draped it over a chair. He didn’t look at Clarisse, but caught glimpses of her standing off to the side, listening to Doreen’s nonstop, golf-whisper narration of events. He plugged his MP3 player into the small speaker system in the room and set it to one of his favorite scene mixes.

When Mac lay face-down on the bench, Sully clipped his wrist cuffs to it and knelt next to him so he could whisper in his ear. He knew Clarisse couldn’t hear him between the music and Doreen.

“I want you to call red tonight.”

Mac already wore his ball gag and looked at Sully with confusion clearly visible in his expression.

“Don’t question me, slave. When I switch from the cane to the singletail, give me a few strokes and then call red. Understand?”

Mac hesitated, then rotated his left hand, their signal for green or yes.

Patting him on the shoulder, Sully ignored the questions in Mac’s eyes and his arched eyebrow. He clipped Mac’s ankle cuffs to the bench and grabbed a light flogger to start their warm-up.

He fought the urge to hurry, hoping Mac didn’t sink so far into subspace he couldn’t remember his command. He took his time, checking in frequently while knowing that he’d owe Mac an apology and a make-up play session later. He paused at one point to reach between Mac’s legs and squeeze his balls.

Mac’s hips bucked against him, wanting more, wanting release.

Sully slapped him on the ass. “Not yet, slave. Later.”

Clarisse couldn’t tune out Doreen’s soft voice as she watched Sully play with Mac. There remained no doubt in Clarisse’s mind that Mac enjoyed it, but reconciling that with common sense and her own experiences still troubled her.

Sully’s back muscles rippled with every stroke as he alternated between using the flogger and sensuous strokes from his hands. Her breath caught in her throat.

“They look beautiful together, don’t they?” Doreen whispered.

“He gets Mac so deep into subspace it’s amazing. I wish I could do that, go deep like Mac does.”

Sully put down the flogger and picked up a cane similar to the one he used on Mac before. She winced as every hard stroke landed, but she watched how Sully alternated hard strikes across his ass with lighter ones, reminiscent of how Mac had demonstrated on her, across his shoulders and the backs of his thighs. After ten minutes of this, Sully switched to a four-foot whip.

Clarisse cringed. Correctly interpreting her reaction, Doreen patted her on the arm. “Mac loves this part. That’s his favorite one.”

Sully took a few practice strokes in the air, gauging his distance and stroke, before stepping in and nailing Mac in the ass several times in quick succession. Then Mac raised his left hand as far as the cuff would allow. He rapidly shook his fist up and down.

Sully immediately stopped. He removed Mac’s ball gag and bent in. Clarisse couldn’t hear them over the music. Sully looked at her.

“Please go into our bathroom and grab that tube of ointment off the counter, the one Mac uses on my leg.”

Clarisse raced to do it. By the time she returned, Sully had Mac’s right leg unclipped and stretched out, massaging it, but Mac’s ball gag was back in place.

She handed Sully the tube and watched as he squirted ointment in his hand and spent several minutes working on Mac’s calf. How did she reconcile that tender treatment with the sadistic scourging he’d administered him?

After several minutes, Sully lowered Mac’s leg. “Better, slave?”

Mac rotated his left hand.

“Do you want me to continue playing or stop?”

Mac rotated his hand again.

Sully rehooked Mac’s ankle cuff and picked up a flogger.

Clarisse returned to her place next to Doreen. After a few minutes, Sully leaned in and whispered something to Mac. Mac’s ass had started gyrating in the air by this point, his rigid cock desperate for release.

Whatever Sully said to Mac, it made the bound man moan loudly enough Clarisse could hear him over the music.

Sully returned to his place behind Mac, but as he did, he let his gaze knowingly settle on Clarisse for a moment before he turned and reached under Mac’s hips with his right hand. With his left hand, he started spanking Mac. Heat filled Clarisse’s face as she realized what he was doing—jerking Mac off.

“How did Sully know to stop?” Clarisse asked Doreen for an excuse to take her attention off the two men.

“Mac called red,” Doreen said. “Which is really rare. He must have cramped bad. That thing Mac did with his hand, that’s their code. I think that’s only the third time I’ve ever seen Mac call red, and they get pretty intense.”

Clarisse digested that while Sully finished Mac off. Mac tensed, his back arching as a loud moan escaped around the ball gag. When he finally went limp on the bench, Sully got a towel and cleaned him up. He applied a different lotion to Mac’s reddened flesh, then unclipped Mac and rubbed his arms and legs for him before letting him sit up. He wrapped a blanket around the other man and stood there holding him while Mac sat on the bench and leaned against Sully, his eyes closed.

For the briefest of moments, Clarisse wished it was her wrapped securely in Sully’s arms as she remembered the night she spent with them.

Or better, in Mac’s.

Alex caught Doreen’s eye and, crooking his finger at her, motioned her outside. She grabbed Clarisse’s arm. “Want to watch us?”

Clarisse glanced back at Mac and Sully. Sully’s eyes had also closed, his face buried in Mac’s hair as he whispered something.

She wanted to stay. She wanted to be a part of them.

And part of her couldn’t stand to watch them without being a part of it.

She didn’t really want to watch Doreen play, but it was a good excuse to leave. She followed Doreen out of the room.

When they were alone in the playroom and Sully knew Mac had regained most of his senses, he left him sitting on the bench and turned off the music. Mac’s brown eyes followed him.

“What?” Sully asked.

Mac sent one eyebrow skyward. “Far be it from me to question Master.”

Sully walked to the playroom door, glanced down the hallway to make sure the coast was clear, and shut it. “I wanted to prove a point.

I also didn’t want to force you into telling her a lie.”

“So you’ll lie to her?”

Sully shrugged. “I haven’t lied. She hasn’t asked me what happened. Pretty obvious I took care of a leg cramp though, right?”

He winked.

Mac laughed and shook his head. “Son of a bitch, you’re a sneaky fuck, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a sneaky fuck, Master.”

Sully held up three fingers.

“It’s worth it,” Mac said. “You want to give them to me now or later?”

“In the morning. Go clean up. You can put on a pair of shorts if you want. Doreen should be begging her head off in a few minutes.”

Clarisse returned to her spot in the kitchen where she could look over the counter and watch the events in the living room from a safe distance. Alex used several ropes to bind Doreen, who had stripped, in a kneeling position on one of the benches. He started warming her up with a good spanking.

Sully reappeared first and poured himself a glass of iced tea. “You all right?” he asked Clarisse.

“Peachy.”

He smirked before he returned to the living room.

When Mac emerged from their bedroom, he had removed the cuffs and donned a pair of shorts. He walked into the kitchen and stood next to Clarisse. “You all right?”

“I’m fine!” She realized how short she sounded. “Sorry. Sully just asked me.” Sully was helping Alex do something to Doreen. When Sully stepped to the side, she realized he held a vibrator in his hand, which he’d shoved between Doreen’s spread and bound legs.

Another irrational wave of jealousy—or was it envy—washed through her.

“What’s he doing?” she whispered to Mac.

Mac slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Sully helps out like that. Not everyone, just a few friends. Makes it more intense for the sub.”

Alex stood in front of Doreen, pinching and twisting her nipples as she wriggled against her bonds.

Then Sully’s stern order. “Don’t you dare come yet. You haven’t been given permission.”

Doreen squealed in frustration and started begging. “Please, Sir?

Please let me come!”

“No. You don’t come until I tell you to.”

Tears ran down the woman’s face as the two men mercilessly tormented her. Sully said, “Hold it until I say so.”

“I can’t—”

“You will, or your Master will whip your ass.”

She bucked her hips, trying to escape the vibrator Sully kept pressed against her clit. “Hold it,” he ordered.

Clarisse instinctively pressed closer to Mac, unable to sort through the emotions and desires rolling through her.

“Please, Sir! Please let me come!” Doreen’s begging fell on deaf ears as Sully continued to torment her.

Finally, he said, “All right, come now!”

Doreen screamed, sobbed as her back rounded and an explosive climax ripped through her. Sully didn’t relent, keeping the vibrator pressed against her. “Again, come now!”

She screamed again, sobbing and wriggling, trying to get away from the devious device, but Sully and Alex weren’t through with her yet. Alex helped hold her down as Sully pulled the vibrator away and replaced it with his other hand. “Come again, now!”

Her screams dissolved into ragged sobs as he made her come four more times in quick succession before he stopped. When she limply collapsed onto the bench, Sully left the room. Alex stepped in and took over, draped his arm across her back and whispered to her.

Clarisse, her brain swirling, realized she was stiffly standing against Mac.

Mac gently shook her. “Fry your brain?”

“Did she really come that many times?”

Mac laughed. “Oh, yeah. She loves to play like this, especially with her job. Gives her a way to release her stress.”

“Why? What does she do?”

“She’s a criminal prosecutor with the circuit court. Alex is a family law attorney.”

Clarisse tried to absorb that information. “Where’d Sully go?” She felt like she could barely talk.

“Washing his hands, probably.”

Ew.

Okay, that finished her off. She disengaged herself from Mac, mumbled an apology, and returned to her room. She shut and locked the door behind her.

What the fuck?

She turned on her TV and, for good measure, used the MP3 player and headphones. She couldn’t focus on anything but the sights and sounds of the evening.

Mac.

The way Sully made Doreen beg to come.

The jealousy she’d felt over Mac.

Okay, fuck, yes, the jealousy she’d felt watching Sully with Doreen.

It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. She should be sickened or at the very least unmoved, shouldn’t she? Not…

Horny.

She closed her eyes and pulled a pillow over her head. At some point she drifted to sleep, but she dreamed of both Sully and Mac taking turns fucking her while she was bound to a bench. When she woke up and removed the headphones, she couldn’t hear anything but the TV. The clock read three-thirty, and when she shut off the TV, the house sounded quiet.

Cautiously, she unlocked her bedroom door and peeked out. The house stood empty, dark, silent. Apparently, they’d already cleaned up, because the living room had been put back to normal and the slip covers removed.

Clarisse closed her door and undressed before slipping under the covers with her mind a swirling mass of confused emotions.