***ZANE’S POV***
“How many strokes should I give you, London?” I ask massaging her butt.
“Five, Daddy,” she says softly.
Looking down at her pussy, I strike her ass with my hands and she cries out softly.
“No, please. Ten. You could give me ten strong,” she adds.
“Are you sure you are up to ten strokes, honey?” I inquire holding the flogger in my hands.
“I have to admit that I don’t want to get punished, Daddy. But I need to feel that stink on my skin,” she cries out.
Alright, my woman is damn hot, but unless she stops fiddling on the fact that she wants me to punish her and does silly things, it might truly not end well for us.
“Ten strokes with the flogger, baby, and you don’t get to cum,” I mutter.
“No. Please, not that. You know how rough I am when I don’t cum, Zane,” she says looking back at her shoulders.
I almost laughed if not that I held my breathe tightly, and my chest rumbles.
Rubbing my hands over her waist and back, I land the first blow.
“One. Thank you, Daddy,” she murmurs, giggling.
This isn’t meant as punishment because she will be so wet by the time I am practically done with her.
“Who owns your greedy pussy?” I ask spanking her harder this time.
“Two. And… Thank you, Daddy,” she whimpers, shaking her butt.
“Answer the question,” I say striking her again.
“You. Every part of my being belongs to you, Sir,” she moans out loud and clear.
“Sir? That’s a new endearment. Where did you learn that from?” I question pushing my fingers through her hair and bringing her head towards me.
London’s cheeks become a pale shade of pink and when she I tug a little harder at her hair, she replies to me.
“I… Uh oh!” she stutters over her words.
Cocking my eyebrows and waiting for a response, I wonder what that might be.
“From a BDSM club I joined a week ago,” she finishes.
I release my hands from London’s head and stumble backwards. Although I try to school my emotions, I fail woefully, and gawking at her, I wish I could erase what I had just heard, but this was real and fucking happening.
“What are you saying?” I ask softly, not wanting to go full alphahole on her.
Shaking with fear, London says, “I registered into a website that includes Dominants and submissives,” she explains.
Bile rose to my throat and the cane fell from my hand. I hate to have to say it but I don’t know what to say right now.
“Zane?” London says turning around to face me.
“Put your clothes on. I am going downstairs to have a drink,” I say and walk out of the room.
I don’t give London a chance to explain herself, there is nothing more to be said.
‘She fucking called me, Sir,’
The fuck was that about?
Closing my eyes, I pull my hand and give a blow on the wall, feeling the pain of my knuckles hit it hard.
I have grazes on my knuckles and the pain from it is half the pain I feel in me right now.
I take the car out and go to a bar downtown. Sicily is cool, and I love how everyone can have a booth of their own and just enjoy themselves in case you don’t want to have a direct contact with another person.
As I grab my phone, I log into the last searches on the email I have that London uses.
And there it is, the website she used to go into the BDSM club house.
The things I see there are what I already know would happen.
I am a dom, but exposing my sub to such lifestyle in a broad sphere is risky because there are few subs and the men are ready to take on my woman in just a blink of an eye.
Opening the message box, I notice a string of messages London has been chatting with.
The last time I had found London with anyone online, she had suffered the consequences, and if she has done it again, that means I had failed on implementing that lesson well.
There is a Dom Jack and two other males who have masks on. When I thought I was done with Oliver and Michael, here comes another trouble.
Luca and Dominic,”
When I am about to leave, I notice the group part and a message pops in it.
Squinting in shock, I realize the message is from the account I was in right now.
London was live and chatting with threw some.
The fuck? Tapping into the message panel, I read the messages.
“We have a slot on Friday night, my pretty sub. You could see everything unfolds around your pretty eyes,” Dom Luca says.
Jack and Dominic agrees.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea I make it. My husband would be against me leaving, sorry,” London says.
I frown. She knows I don’t like it already, the fuck game is she playing right now?
“If your dick ass man don’t want you to come have some fun, well, you can leave him, baby, we are more fun anyway. And for three men to do you good? I bet you wouldn’t see that coming,” Jack says and his two goons sends laughing emojis to come with it.
There is no reply from London and as I stand from the booth, walking towards the club.
I don’t know how long I send at the club but I waste myself on alcohol. I drink until I know that I might piss urine.
Paying for what I drank, I walk to the car and sit behind the wheels.
I know I shouldn’t be driving, but I don’t care. Sitting behind the wheels, I drive to the house.
I guess I am missing the fundraising anyways because I am too spent to even think clearly right now.
If I ain’t going, my wife too isn’t leaving the house without me.