Arlo & Cole Ch. 06: Thing

PRESENT DAY

***

Gemma

***

Miranda pulled open my refrigerator door, bending over to lean inside. “When is it going to be Fall again? I can’t handle much more of this heat.” She twisted the top off a water bottle, chugging half the contents before setting it on my counter.

“It’s August. We have four to six weeks longer to bake.” I lifted my hair off my shoulders, tying it into a ponytail.

“At least the stores are air conditioned.” She pushed the shopping bags to the side, leaning over the counter. “Have you spoken to Lexa?”

“This is another Madame Lexi manipulation and I’m not interested.”

“She isn’t going to put her reputation at risk just to manipulate you. She knows you’re the only one capable of taking Mistress Brianne’s place.”

“Morgan’s capable.”

“Morgan has Finn occupying her time–” The word froze on her lips when Cole stepped out from the hallway. The muscles defining his shirtless body were less distracting than his loose-fitting Nightmare Before Christmas boxers. The fabric moved obscenely as he walked, hinting at what was swaying beneath it. Miranda’s hand moved to her chest, a silent breath falling from her open mouth.

“What’s happening right now?” I asked, unable to look away.

He glanced down, confused. “What?”

“That.” I pointed, heat rising through my face when he took a step towards me.

He smiled, running his fingers underneath his waistband. “You know what it is.”

“You’re desecrating Jack and Zero! You’re not allowed to wear those anymore!”

“Yes, Mistress.” He shoved the boxers down his hips, wiggling until they fell to the floor, his manhood swaying with the movement.

Miranda smiled, shameless as she stared. “It’s still just as breathtaking as the first time I saw it.”

I rolled my eyes, the movement halting when the front door opened. Arlo stepped into the chaos, his black duffle bag swaying in his hand. His face was drawn, his skin pale in its stress, a half smile forced on his lips as he walked towards us.

“Got anything top secret in that bag?” Miranda teased.

“Always,” Arlo taunted back, pressing his lips to my cheek. “I’m going to go start my chores,” he mumbled, disappearing down the hallway.

Miranda’s fingers tapped against the countertop, her eyes narrowing. “You’re refusing Lexa’s offer because of him.”

I pressed my lips together, refusing to acknowledge her stare. “Arlo has nothing to do with my decision.”

“You put him above yourself every time! Every fucking time!”

“How can you stand there and defend Lexa and condemn him?”

“Because he will never put you above his Si–”

I slammed my water bottle down on the counter, cutting off the name I was tired of hearing. “Lexa wants me to submit! Kneel to her as proof to everyone she was right! That’s all this is!” I turned towards Cole, shaking my head at how he could always see right through me. “I won’t kneel. Not to Lexa. Not to anyone.” The truth pounded in my head, the one everyone but me could always see. “I wouldn’t even kneel to the Siren if she held her gun to my head!”

I stormed down the hallway, shoving open the bedroom door. My rage faded when I found him stripping the bed, doing his best to earn his reward. “What would you do if I accepted Lexa’s offer?”

He paused, bunching up the sheets in his hands. “That’s your decision to make.”

“I can’t be a head trainer with an uncollared slave.”

“If I’m your personal slave, you can do what you want.”

“That’s not how the community will see it!” I took a breath when I felt the rise in my voice. “They’ll see it as a weakness and failure to control my own slave.”

“You know I can’t wear a twenty-four/seven collar.”

“You already do.” My eyes narrowed, gesturing towards his bicep.

“Fine.” He grabbed the duffle bag from the closet, pulling out a knife and tossing it on the bed.

“Arlo–”

“Take it.” He grasped his shirt, pulling it off over his head, the jagged “S” scaring his skin mocking me. He sat on the edge of the bed, pointing to his right bicep. “Stay in the middle, on the muscle, don’t go too deep.”

I shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself when he held the knife out towards me.

“This is what you want, isn’t it? What you need? To mark your property so she knows it’s yours?”

“She’s already claimed it.”

“She hasn’t claimed anything! I love you. I worship you. I don’t know what more I can do to show you that. This is not a collar.” He grasped his bicep, squeezing into the scar. “This is the mark of a Warrior!”

**********

2 YEARS PRIOR

***

Cole

***

I paused when I heard her front door open, listening. Her footsteps moved farther away, disappearing down the hallway before the bedroom door shut. I continued wiping down the furniture, letting thoughts of her body pressing against the bars of the cage run rampant through my mind.

When her footsteps re-appeared there was no point trying to hide my erection. I pulled at the crotch of my pants, trying to situate it while I wiped down her coffee table. The air shifted as she sat down on the couch in front of me, an odd movement from between her legs catching my attention. I glanced up, my gaze locking beneath her waist. “I didn’t know they made those that big.”

Her hand ran down the hot pink strap-on. “I thought the same thing the first time I saw yours.”

The laugh fell from my lips, my eyes still focused on her stroke.

“I wanted to make it clear who was in charge.”

“I wasn’t aware that had ever been in question.”

She leaned back, propping her feet on the coffee table as she caressed her new appendage. “Strip.”

I pulled my shirt off over my head then shoved my pants to the ground, my cock greeting its rival in full salute.

She snapped her fingers, pointing to the floor at her feet. My pulse throbbed at the command, growing stronger as I knelt. I wrapped my hand around the pink shaft, my mouth sucking over the tip. Her gaze followed my movement, allowing me to worship her as I pleased. I closed my eyes, relaxing into the mindless motion. I didn’t know how much time had past when her hand locked into my hair, gently pulling my head back.

She stared at me, hunting my face as if confused. “I watched you fuck Mistress Paris. I watched you fuck Mistress Mia. I watched you fuck Mistress Camila. You were dripping all over the cage while you ate my pussy, but you’ve never asked for permission to orgasm.”

“I don’t beg and I don’t play games. If you tell me to come, I’ll finish and enjoy the climax. If you don’t tell me to come, I’ll assume I don’t get to and enjoy the ache of being denied. I just don’t want it to be a… thing.”

Her brow furrowed as she frowned. “What do you mean a… thing?”

I sucked in a breath, holding it in hopes I could figure out how to explain the unexplainable. “Why did you drag me across the dungeon by my hair the first time we met?”

“I shouldn’t have done–”

I held up my hand, stopping her words. “Did it feel good to do it?”

“Yes, but–”

“Why did you pour wine over the floor I cleaned for you?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, either.”

“But did it feel good to do it?”

She pressed her lips together, unwilling to condemn herself.

“Why are you ashamed, Mistress? Ashamed of the only reasons I’m still here kneeling at your feet, sucking that monstrosity of a cock?”

Her lips curved, the darkness in her eyes softening.

“Trust yourself and trust me to use my safe word if I need to. Don’t make it a thing, Mistress.”

***

Gemma

***

I pushed my hair behind my shoulder, glancing up at the moon as I walked out of my house. The days were getting shorter, Arlo fading farther into my past as I found my steps speeding towards the limo that would bring me to Cole. I pulled open the door, taking a step back when Lexa’s stare greeted me. “Get in, Mistress Gemini. It’s cold outside.”

I slid into the seat across from her, crossing my legs to avoid flashing the lack of underwear underneath my dress.

“I heard about what happened with Mistress Camila.”

“There’s no rule against what I did.”

“If you want to play the game of topping other dommes, I respect that, but you need to learn the difference between topping a domme and topping a slave or you’ll run out of dommes willing to suck your cock.”

Her words hung in my silence, her stare refusing to leave my face as if searching for something I wouldn’t allow her to find.

“Have you completed your assignment yet?”

“Assignment?”

“Why did the rich man with the horse cock hunt down a slave card?”

My lips rubbed together, the movement pausing when her gaze moved towards them. “He has his things, just like the rest of us.”

“Mistress Brianne called me yesterday. She’s returning earlier than expected.”

I froze, a familiar numbness creeping back into my chest. I wasn’t ready to give him up, his calm strength soothing my soul.

“I thought I knew what was best for you. I treated you like a slave, not a domme, and for that, I’m sorry.” She paused, glancing out the window of the limo at the Château as we pulled around the driveway. “She will finish Cole’s training. I’ll leave you to mourn your Arlo until you decide you’re ready to try again.”

***

Cole

***

I looked up from the floor when she walked into the dungeon, trying to decipher the darkness in her eyes. She shoved the door closed, locking it before leaning back against it, staring at me as she contemplated. My need pulsed when she moved towards me, tensing as I waited to feel her hand grasp my hair, disappointed when she stormed past me to a cabinet behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, her dark hair swaying in a braid down her back, a leash looped over her arm.

“Mistress Brianne returns next week,” she started, heading back towards me and attaching the leash to my collar. “She’ll be taking over your training.” She wrapped the leash around her wrist, gently pulling it.

I hesitated, her words sinking into my chest. I was too close to shattering the walls she had built, the darkness within her screaming to break free. I needed to witness her unleash it, see if I had finally found the one strong enough to meet my needs. “Will I still be allowed to come clean your house?”

“If you become a community slave, maybe.” I crawled next to her, positioning myself on the spanking bench she stopped beside. She pulled the leather straps over my back, arms and legs, securing me to the bench. “I don’t know what Madame Lexi will assign for you to do.”