Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
God-fucking-dammit. This wasn’t gonna work. I couldn’t run any longer, and I couldn’t fool myself. Anger rose to the surface, and I scrubbed a hand over my face.
He’d been more than a small reason I’d left. He’d been the catalyst to my ultimately calling shit off with Charlie. It hadn’t been working anyway; we were too different, and…I’d had that cocky little punk running around the restaurant, proving what a great chef he was, gushing about his nephews, proclaiming his love for hunting and being out on the water… Loving the small-town life in Camassia Cove. His blue eyes lit up when he talked about sustainability, living off the land, and cooking according to the season.
Was he kinky too?
“…and it’s been a while since we hosted a Primal Pursuit, so here we are,” Dave was saying.
I swallowed dryly.
So here we are…
CHAPTER 3
Tracy Judd
Iwas so freaking excited that I couldn’t contain it. It was a good thing Mister Madigan and Master Ryan had semi-jokingly promised to keep an eye on me, because my leash definitely needed to be cut shorter occasionally.
“…but unlike previous Pursuits, we’re gonna make a couple changes to this one,” Mister Madigan announced. “For one, it’s gonna be a Top buffet. Doesn’t matter who you’re going home with at the end of the night—you can be captured by any Top participating.”
Whoa.
Abel and I exchanged a wide-eyed look.
“There will be limits, of course,” Mister Dave added. “We’ll respect every boundary a dynamic has on pain, intimacy, and safewords. Ryan and I might stumble across Madigan’s boy, for instance.” He definitely had Abel’s attention. “And we’ll have negotiated beforehand what we can do with the prey before we deliver him to his Owner.”
Oh my God, that was so exciting. Mostly because I wasn’t partnered up, and it felt like it would be more exhilarating and liberating to have more than just the few single Tops coming after me.
Mister Madigan took over again. “During the event, we’ll use the color system for safewords, but every Top will recognize private safewords in case the bottom forgets the colors in the heat of the moment. Which means it’s very important you list those safewords on the form we’ll be handing out.”
Our drinks arrived as Dave talked about the importance of being 100% truthful on the form, because once we hit the dark woods next Saturday night, the only thing that could save us was the safeword.
This play was not for newbies.
I was technically a newbie, but I’d proven myself over the past several months. Master Ryan, Master Waylon, Angel, and Mister Dave had tested my threshold for pain and fear and cleared me for rougher play.
Let’s just say I got off on adrenaline rushes and consensual non-con.
I’d always been fascinated by pain—and drawn to it. Whether I’d practiced kickboxing or rugby, whether I’d burned myself at work or fallen off my bike as a kid. Obviously, there were types of pain I hated, but there was still something about the impact pain had on my mind and body. The range of emotions, from “holy shit, that stings” and “okay, this hurts; am I gonna cry or not?” to “harder, Daddy” and “please mark me.”
Playing rugby had been my biggest mistake and aha-moment all at once. ’Cause I, uh…I wasn’t big…? So, I’d never made it. Those guys had toppled me over as if I’d weighed nothing. But, man, had it let me discover my inner adrenaline junkie.
I guessed I could thank my father for that realization too. He was from the UK, and after settling down in the South with my mom, he’d sought out every British pub and pastime he could find in the peachy state of Georgia.
There weren’t many. And the sports were only for kicks. Try entering a sports bar in Macon and ask them to switch to soccer…
I took a sip of my frozen strawberry margarita and licked my lips.
Super yummy.
They had a great bartender here.
“Okay, moving on!” Mister Madigan said. “The other change we’re incorporating is because of you brats. We’ve seen the chatter on our Discord server. You wanna explore interrogation play? We’ll make that happen if you check the right boxes.”
Ruh-roh?
“I knew that was gonna come back to bite us in the ass,” Abel muttered into his cocktail.
Mister Dave spoke next. “If you’re a bottom joining us next Saturday, I want you to fill out this safety form and send it back to Madigan or me by Wednesday. You can take a picture of it and text or email it to us, or if you stop by our work and give it to us in person—you know where Madigan and Jameson have their tattoo shop, and I’m over at Three Dots. Just message me before.”
“Abel and I have a few friends visiting us next weekend too, so they’ll be joining us,” Mister Madigan said.