Isabella
"Jesus fuck," I mutter. Rose's head whips around to look at me, to see why I'm acting this way. Her blonde curls tickle my bare arm, a curious smile on her lips.
"Who's fucking Jesus?" she jokes. I nudge her in the arm, shooting a look in the ginger's direction, but Rose doesn't seem to get it. Instead, she gasps as her phone rings and excuses herself to go answer it. I roll my eyes and focus on the stage as the lights dim.
Jasper walks onto the platform, heavy boots clunking against the black, cast floor. The chain wrapped around his wrist rattles loudly as he yanks. Pins walks behind him, head down, a thick leather posture collar around his neck. The hardware that links to the chain glimmers in the lighting, and the dungeon quiets down. Jasper's full-time slave wears nothing more than baggy leather pants. His broad, tanned chest is bare, showing off his tattooed torso, gleaming piercings, the little weighted chain attached to the barbells in his nipples tugging at the sensitive flesh. I groan inwardly, knowing the feeling all-too-well from my time with Diego— my mentor and trainer way back when I started out as a measly, little submissive. Shit, I really need to get laid. I grab a glass of red wine from the tray Gianna carries around and take a big gulp.
"Good evening, friends!" Jasper greets us. "Tonight is a mixture of play and plain old partying. Before we're all deciding to have one, or three, too many, I'm here with Pins to give you all some entertainment." He winks and nods at his slave—once—before Pins sinks down on his knees in silence. "We all know why Pins chose his name, right?" Jas smirks before he walks to the back of the platform, opening the chest in the back. He snaps on two latex gloves—the same ones he uses in his tattoo shop—and returns with a rolling table filled with instruments.
He pours rubbing alcohol over his gloved fingers dramatically before he grabs a fistful of Pins' black hair. I watch as his abs tense, his eyes close. He licks his lips in anticipation since they've done this countless times before.
"I've ordered him to stay absolutely silent; he's not to give a peep or he'll suffer the consequences. Now, with all these Doms around, I bet it's going to be easy to catch him if he does make a sound." There's some laughter in the dungeon at Jasper's remark, but he's purely Master J now: focused, in the zone.
"A lot of you ask me for guidance when it comes to certain types of play. I love edge play like no other, and needle play is no exception. Luckily for me, I found this one —my human pincushion—so let's show you how much Pins likes to get stabbed." Jasper licks his lips in concentration, rubbing cotton swabs soaked in alcohol over Pins' skin before he unwraps several individually packaged needles. Needle play is a certain type of acupuncture to me. It involves blind trust, trust in the knowledge of your Dominant, in their skills, and the most tantalizing sensations.
As a tattoo artist and professional piercer, needles don't hold any secrets to Jasper. He's an absolute fixed value in the fetish world because of his experience, because of his impeccable ability to read his sub's feelings. It's what attracts the flock of hopefuls, the little Alice, and Pins—three years ago. The club is a sensational success because of Jasper Hale's reputation.
Rose gets back to my side, warm slender fingers curling around my bicep.
"I need to go, babe. Emmett had a little accident at the garage. He thinks he broke his arm. I need to go change and drive him to the emergency room."
"Oh no, is he all right?" I gasp.
"He's going to be. He's a tough boy. " She winks and leaves. I see Rose say goodbye to a few other people while Jasper is still in the middle of his scene before she walks out the doors. As I watch her leave, I see him again. My eyes linger as he steps forward, taking a glass of scotch from Gianna's tray. She's looking straight at him as if she has a death wish, but I don't think the new guy even notices. His eyes are focused on Jasper, on Pins. His large hands hold his glass so tightly I can see his strained muscles from here. Every time he swallows, I see his Adam's apple glide up and down, his tongue coming out to lick those pouty fucking lips, chest rising and falling rapidly. He's aroused.