The Dom with the Kink Monsters (Badass Brats) (26 page)

Sure there was the question of where that would leave the band, but really that was the least of Mack’s concerns. The uncertainty of having no control over whether they broke off with Ramsay and Saya sometimes kept him awake at night.

Often, when that happened, he’d bump into Saya prowling the hallway, checking on Spider. She was an attentive mother, and the slightest noise from the child would send her running to his room to see what was the matter. They sat up, talked, sometimes ate ice cream directly from the carton. It was the kind of love bond that didn’t need grand professions of feeling, but had evolved over time to become something deep and meaningful in its own right.

Mack leaned on Ramsay and played with one of Saya’s curls. She sighed and
tilted her head into the caress. She loved when they played with her hair.

“Ramsay, if Bronwyn shows up at court next week and tries to take him back, can we mail her back to France? I don’t think I can...” She scrubbed at her face with one hand.

“I know, princess. I feel the same way. You know I do.”

Winter rolled her eyes. “The woman doesn’t even know him anymore. Why does anyone even have to ask her?”

Saya sighed. “Well, we could have just kept him and hoped she didn’t come back, but we thought this would give all of us some peace of mind.”

“Speaking of which, did you turn on the baby monitor?” Ramsay patted her head like she was a pet.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. You three go downstairs and strip then.”

Mack was surprised but held his tongue. This punishment wasn’t supposed to be for him, but arguing with Ramsay when he had his Dom on was a bad move.

Saya turned and looked at
Ramsay, confused. “Mack too? But he didn’t do anything, Master.”

“He was being bratty before you came downstairs. How about you let me be the Master, and you can be the pretty little slave girl. Isn’t that how things are supposed to work with us?”

Mack forced himself not to laugh. She was getting just as bad as the rest of them, bratty slave.

They rose and Mack unlocked the new padlock on the dungeon with the key Ramsay made him wear around his neck. Filing down the stairwell took no more than a moment, and Ramsay
locked the door behind them all.

Saya put the other half of the baby monitor on the work bench, cranking the volume so it was easily heard.

The three of them stripped in silence, with Mack acutely aware that Ramsay was still dressed. Being naked in front of a man wearing a t-shirt, jeans and sturdy black boots made Mack feel nervous and vulnerable, but really, what more could he do to Mack that he hadn’t already done? Right?

“Kneel.”

They all obeyed, even though Mack could see that Winter was thinking of balking. She’d come so far in her submission to Ramsay, but her mind still fought it at every step.

Ramsay went to the work bench and grabbed three sets of cuffs, then brought them back.

“Present your wrists.”

He buckled a set on each of them, and Mack could hardly contain his curiosity. Ramsay led the women to the o-ring that hung mid-ceiling. He clipped their wrists
together and attached them to the high ring with leather straps. The position made them both stretch up on their toes, and the gem at the base of Saya’s buttplug caught the light. Their breasts were pressed together and Winter kissed Saya quickly, as though she hoped Ramsay wouldn’t notice. Watching them make out was one of Mack’s favorite pastimes.

“Enough of that now,”
Ramsay growled, and swatted Winter’s butt with one big paw.

“Sorry, Sir. She’s just so pretty.”

“So pretty you thought you’d drag her off and have a secret conversation with her tonight? What were you talking about?”

“We can’t tell you, Sir. Sorry.” Winter was amused. Bad plan.

Saya looked more upset. “Maybe we could hint or something?”

“No. Don’t cave now, Saya, or it’ll ruin everything.”

Saya looked at Winter then turned her head and scrutinized Ramsay’s expression. Now the question was whether her Master, or her Domme plus this need for secrecy would win out.

“We’ll see how you feel about your decision in a few minutes.” Slowly, he unbuckled his belt, his gaze not wavering from Saya’s. “I’m sorry it’s had to come to this, but
I won’t tolerate disobedience from you, Saya mine.”

Saya whimpered pitifully but nodded. She understood but still wouldn’t budge, apparently.

He pulled the belt from his jeans, the sound making Winter shudder where she stood. A belt beating wouldn’t be a punishment for her.

“Since you’re the one encouraging her to keep secrets from me, you will kiss the belt she’s getting beaten with. He looped it in half and held it in front of Winter’s face. When she tried to turn her face away, he grabbed her hair and kept her immobile. “For every second you disobey me, she gets another blow. Understood?”

“Fuck! You fucking cocksucker! Leave her alone.”

Ramsay’s eyes became dark and hooded. He
shoved the belt closer to Winter’s face and after the barest hesitation, she kissed it, looking like she’d still rather kick his ass.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl. Tell if you want to. It’s not worth this.
You could tell him what it’s about, at least.”

Saya nodded. “We were just talking about a surprise for your birthday, Master.”

Ramsay paused, then drew his brows further down. “Why not just say that instead of stringing me along this far? Are you trying to make me feel like an ass on purpose?” He looked embarrassed, annoyed and hurt. “Part of D/s relationships is openness and trust. If you won’t give me the information I need to make an informed decision, I come off looking like a crazy dictator. Is that being fair to me?”

“No, Master. I’m sorry. I should have said at least that much right away.”

“Ya think? I understand this sort of thing from Winter. She doesn’t totally understand the rules yet. But you, Saya? You know how this works. And Winter should know not to interfere with you doing what’s right.”

Mack cleared this throat.
“Sir, maybe...”

“Shut the fuck up and come here bitchboy.”

Great. Now he and his big mouth would be hooked to the ring too. Ramsay had never beaten him and he was hoping that he wouldn’t disgrace himself and make noise. The hard-on he’d gotten before they’d come downstairs was gone.

He
went to Ramsay.

“Is it your place to interf
ere when I discipline the others?” He paced around Mack, like a television drill sergeant.

“No, Sir.”

Ramsay stopped behind him and Mack’s butt automatically clenched and his balls tightened.

“What’s the matter, my little pervert? You don’t want me in here?” Ramsay’s finger trailed down the cleft of Mack’s ass and brushed against his anus. The sensitive nerves there went into overload, and his cock switched directions and started to work on pointing at the ceiling
again.

“You
don’t like it when I shove my dick in your ass?”

Mack shut his eyes, pained. He hated being embarrassed, but for some reason, when Ramsay was mocking him, it was different. It jus
t made him want to grovel at his feet. Not a very macho reaction to being challenged, but in the moment it was hard to care about what society expected from him as a man.

“Here.” He handed the belt to Mack.

Mack waited for him to take off his shirt, or do something to get comfortable before taking the belt back, but he didn’t do anything like that. Instead, his level blue gaze caught at Mack and reeled him in.

“Go on.
Hit her seven times, each harder than the one before. Use a good part of the force you’d use on warm-up blows with Winter.”

“Sir, no!” Winter interjected. “Punish me instead. Beat me yourself, even. It’ll be more satisfying that beating poor Saya.”

“I
am
punishing you, silly girl. Mack too. He doesn’t really want to hurt Saya either.” Ramsay’s face was grim. “I won’t tolerate a lack of openness in this family, and I won’t tolerate bratting from you, little bitchboy.”

He
was determined. No way out of this.

Mack shook out the belt, still warm from wear, and the faint scent of leather
drifted up from it, sensual and captivating. He groaned inwardly. Poor Saya was so fucked if someone didn’t keep him in check. Between the feel of the leather as it slid through his hands and knowing how she would scream for him, he didn’t stand a chance of keeping it under control.

One order
from Sir, and he’d turned into the kind of drooling, perverted sadist that writers made villains of in movies.

He lov
ed Saya. There was no order that could make him forget that. Right?

The fear she displayed for him was green and lush, the new fear of a non-masochist
who didn’t want the pain he could inflict. A strong urge to run his tongue up the back of her neck and whisper threats in her ear almost undid him, but he buried it, saving it for another time and the other girl.

“Don’t forget to breathe through it,” Winter whispered, trying to capture Saya’s gaze with her own.

“No.” Ramsay grabbed Saya’s chin and turned her head so that she was looking at him. “You look at me when I’m having you punished. Winter, you think about the fact that your influence over her has made this happen. Encouraging each other to keep things from me will never end well. For any of you.”

“Are you sure you want
me
to do this?” Mack asked, nervous. If he got carried away and fucked this up, Ramsay would never forgive him. “Maybe it would be better if you did it. Saya isn’t like Winter and I’m afraid... I...”

Ramsay’s hand circled the back of Mack’s neck, gentle but firm. “Mack, you’ve got this. I trust you to do what needs to be done without getting carried away.” He kissed Mack’s mouth tenderly. “You love her. I know you do. You wouldn’t give her more than she could handle, even if I ordered you to. Watch her. Measure her reactions. We’ll make her safeword ‘monster
,’ just so there’s no confusion. It’s the one you’re most familiar with.”

Tears pricked at Mack’s eyes. If Ramsay believed he could control himself, maybe he wasn’t as much of a mo
nster as he thought. Inside, he centered, felt stronger. “Yes, Sir.”

Ramsay’s eyes were a study in warm blues this close up. So very different than the icy blue of Winter’s. For a moment Mack lost himself trying to imagine how to capture that effect with pencils or
paint. Beautiful Viking.

When Ramsay turned away, the spell
was interrupted, but the effects lingered. Ramsay knew him, could see into him, and approved of what he saw. It meant something to Mack that he couldn’t even explain to himself.

“
Saya, you’ll remember the safeword ‘monster’?”

“Yes, Master.” She was trembling.

“Okay, Mack. Begin.”

Control. Mack took a
fortifying breath and landed the belt on Saya’s ass cheek. Hard enough to make her notice, but eliciting only a squeak from his victim.

“This is supposed to be a punishment, Mack. You left a tiny pink splotc
h. Take it up a notch.”

“Yes, Sir.” He drew his arm back
further the second time and the strike landed with a satisfying snap.

Saya went up on her toes and yelped. “Ow, ow, ow, ow! Oooh, ow!”

The chuckle that came from Ramsay encouraged him and gave him permission to enjoy this.

He hit her again, harder. She shrieked, and the sound went straight to his cock. Adrenaline reared its head and his eyes sought out the mark he’d left, sweet and pink on the globe of her ass. Saya’s sounds of distress were like a drug.

Winter was murmuring to her, apologizing and trying to calm her down. Briefly, Mack fought to control himself.

Sir wrapped a hand around the base of Mack’s cock, his own pressing against Mack’s ass through the jeans he wore.
Mack’s breath caught and he hissed in surprise.

“You really do enjoy this, you perverted little bastard. You like making girls scream?” H
e jerked hard at Mack’s cock several times, then let go.

Saya was sniveling, her eyes searching for her
Master, who was almost entirely out of her line of sight. Her eyes were wet and Mack was struck by the loveliness of her tears and disgust at himself for taking pleasure from this when it was giving her none.

Guilt nibbled at him.

“Give her the next four hard and fast, and you’ll get a reward.”

Mack groaned. Ramsay had an interesting definition of reward, considering
the most recent one was being allowed to whack off in the middle of a scene while Ramsay and the girls stopped and watched him. He’d been too horny to refuse, but the memory was still humiliating.

“
Thank you, Sir,” he lied. He slid the belt through his fingers again then moved to one side, his hard-on bobbing and making him hope he didn’t catch it with a backswing. Delivering a beating while not wearing pants was living dangerously.