Fool's Desire Read online

  Fool’s Desire

  Club Risqué Book 1

  Poppy Flynn

  Blushing Books

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Poppy Flynn

  EBook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Blushing Books

  ©2018 by Blushing Books® and Poppy Flynn All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®, a subsidiary of

  ABCD Graphics and Design 977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  The trademark Blushing Books®

  is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Poppy Flynn

  Fool’s Desire

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-815-5

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Prologue

  The lights were muted but for the spotlight that picked her out on the raised dais in the lavish but cavernous arena. Either side of the stage, giant screens showed outrageous close ups from strategically placed cameras. The muted buzz of spectators lounging in deep comfortable chairs or kneeling on thick luxurious rugs teased the atmosphere with a provocative vibe. Energy hissed through the air.

  Thwack! The blunt ended fronds of the soft suede flogger skittered against the taut skin of her softly rounded buttocks. The air displaced again, this time a prickling on the backs of her tanned thighs as they swiftly bloomed a dusky pink under repeated, expertly placed blows.

  Daisy's unruly mop of dirty blonde corkscrew curls dampened as sweat and desire slickened her petite, curvy body and her breath hitched. The flogger rained across her sensitised skin, but not a single, audible sound passed her lips. Arms and legs unbound as her torso stretched across the plush spanking bench, she remained statue still, concentrating her mind to allow her body to absorb the blows without so much as a flinch because that was what Joel required. That was how he had trained her.

  Her stomach clenched as he changed direction and landed the flogger's strands at the apex of her spread legs, causing her reddened thighs to quiver and her bare pussy to gush as the tiny pinpricks of pain morphed into ribbons of pleasure.

  Despite her libertine surroundings and the licentious audience in the dimly lit Club Risqué, Daisy did not view Joel as her Dom nor see herself as his submissive. He was simply her boyfriend. She loved him beyond measure, and she would do anything for him. She did do anything for him; she did this for him and she strived to be as perfect as she possibly could because it made him happy.

  As Daisy began to float in what she privately referred to as her 'happy place', she was dimly aware of the change of sensation. The deeply massaging fronds of the flogger were replaced by the sharper, pinpointed strike of the crop. Slap, slap, slap, slap…the noise rang rhythmically in Daisy's altered state of consciousness as if from a distance. Joel maintained a steady but swift pace across her increasingly sensitive behind as he played out a pattern of rosy splashes, branding her smooth skin, up and down, side to side, never overlapping.

  Daisy could feel a prickle of need spreading up her spine, a sultry perspiration blooming at the back her neck, a treacherous warmth mushrooming in her abdomen as Joel aimed the crop between her legs and skilfully targeted her clitoris. Slap, slap, slap, slap, Daisy gritted her teeth and screwed up her eyes as she fought to internalise all of her raging lust and desire in a desperate battle to stay as still and as quiet as Joel always demanded while her clit hardened and peeked from behind its protective hood and each smart of pain transmuted into an insidious pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her senses as her body begged for the forbidden release.

  Joel carefully gauged Daisy's reactions while she was so obviously in the state of total immersion referred to in BDSM circles as subspace. A ripple of pride slid through his mind that he could get her to this special place that required absolute trust in him to look after her when she wasn't completely capable of consciously looking after herself. He and his friends were known at the club as the 'baby Doms' because of their age, so it boosted both his ego and his libido that Daisy presented so beautifully for the audience of enthusiastic voyeurs, avid lifestylers and cynical veterans.

  Joel altered the sweep of his lashes to intensify Daisy's desire in anticipation of their scene's finale. He knew she was close to coming; her steady breaths had become erratic and her shoulders quaked as she silently panted in her effort to control her natural urges to move, to scream, to drown in the satisfaction of the orgasm she was denying herself at his tacit demand.

  Such a good girl. As her first lover, he had molded her into his ideal, strapping down every inch of her body as he fucked her again and again while she was forcibly immobilised so that he trained her not to move, gagging her ruthlessly to stop her from screaming while he introduced her to the pleasure/pain of impact play and taught her silence as he spanked and flogged her. Mercilessly withholding her gratification as he used orgasm denial to educate her into supressing her instinctive reactions until his control was absolute, until his dominance was inescapable. Until her submission was complete.

  Now, after eighteen months, surrendering to him was second nature to her.

  He discarded the crop and stroked a hand down her clammy flank, admiring the small, temporary welts that decorated her curvy ass, the kisses from his crop. His cock hardened painfully as he acknowledged her complete subjugation to his dominance and he unlaced his leathers, eager to take his reward.

  "Come for me!" Joel growled, seizing her hips firmly as he plunged inside her wet heat in a single, unwavering thrust. He held himself still as her body went rigid and she started to milk his cock with the powerful contractions of her deferred orgasm. Closing his eyes and firming his jaw against the instinctive craving to immediately empty himself inside her tight clasp, Joel determinedly shunned instant gratification in favour of enduring fulfilment. He centred himself and initiated a slowly building cadence guaranteed to trigger the spark of arousal in Daisy all over again. Increasing the driving tempo, Joel grasped Daisy's hair as he leaned over her back, angling her head so that he could sink his teeth lightly into one of Daisy's primary erogenous zones, where her neck met her shoulder.

  "Again!" he demanded between nips as he reached around and palmed her heavy breasts, pausing briefly to torture her pebbled nipples, pinching and twisting the dusky peaks until he felt her tell-tale quiver of quickening excitement. Joel raised up again, sucking in a harsh breath and resuming an unrelenting, pounding rhythm until Daisy silently shattered around him once again and he finally allowed his own gloriously liberated release.

  Daisy sagged limply; her limbs and head felt leaden, her eyes too heavy to open as she revelled in the exquisite sensations of complete erotic fulfilment and sublime satiation. She smiled softly as Joel scooped her up gently in his strong arms and wrapped a soft blanket around her before he carried her to snuggle up with him on one of the luxurious br
ocade sofas in a dimly lit, semi-private corner of the exclusive club where his family's wealth bought him privileged membership despite his youth.

  In her intoxicated post-euphoric haze, Daisy was barely aware of the hushed voices of Joel's friends, Jake, Eric and Logan, murmuring in the background as she calmed her ragged breathing and struggled to regain her equilibrium.

  Waving his friends away as he concentrated on providing aftercare and recovering his own composure after the heady scene and intense responses, Joel allowed his mind to drift through the highlights of their spectacle. Vividly recalling the specific elements of Daisy's unquestioning submission as she had lain there, unbound and ungagged yet completely still and silent, bound only by his will and her desire to please him.

  For Joel, it was that supreme display of surrender that was the ultimate aphrodisiac. That was what turned him on—absolute control.

  Daisy Kidde hitched up her full, calf length skirt and stretched out her bared limbs as she lounged on the grass under the welcome shade of a huge, leafy oak tree on the campus grounds and soaked up the sunshine that poured between the foliage. Leaning back on her arms, a multitude of bangles slipped down to her wrists with a tinkling jangle. She raised her lightly freckled and habitually makeup free face towards the filtered sunbeams and let out a satisfied sigh. She always felt great in the days following a scene with Joel, as if it cleansed away all her tension and restlessness and left her feeling tranquil and refreshed.

  A contented smile pulled at her full lips as she chatted idly with the girlfriend she had bonded with during their first week at University.

  Charlotte Chapman tossed an acorn lightly at Daisy. Cracking an eye open as it bounced lightly off her shoulder, Daisy's smile broadened as she caught her roommate rolling her eyes. The pair of them were as different as chalk and cheese. Charlotte, coming from a strict and soberly religious background, which had helped shape her timid and cautious character and studying journalism in a determined bid to help people find the buried truths behind the surface gloss, and Daisy, the polar opposite, carefree, impulsive and full of joie de vivre, embracing her artistic temperament with dedication and gusto.

  "You've been off at that kinky club with Joel again, haven't you?" Charlotte demanded, shaking her head. "I can always tell when you've had one of your perverted interludes with him!"

  "Perverted interludes?" Daisy choked on the laughter that bubbled at her friend's frank prissiness. Charlotte pursed her lips and eyed Daisy over the top of her sunglasses. "Well, I can never understand why you let him come near you with all those whips and chains and stuff!"

  "There are no 'whips and chains' involved, Cha-Cha." Daisy grinned, settling onto her back and folding her hands behind her head.

  "Semantics!" Charlotte asserted, launching another acorn assault. "You know what I mean!" It was an old argument between them. "It's just not right! Surely, you don't buy into all that nine and a half weeks hype?" she huffed, "All it does is provide justification for arrogant jerks like Joel and Jake to order girls about and pull off all kinds of deviant stunts and twist it into seeming normal…" Charlotte wiggled her fingers at the word with air quotes "…and all so they can get their rocks off at your expense…you're allowing Joel to corrupt you."

  Daisy raised her eyebrows as she glanced over at her friend. "Safe, sane and consensual," she quoted the tenet of Club Risque's fundamental philosophy. "Nothing happens that I don't agree to," she reminded. "And I can stop things with a single word…not that I've ever had to," she pointed out. "Joel knows my limits; he takes care of me."

  "Hmph!" Charlotte snorted. "You really believe that? You really think he's not just taking advantage of your willing nature?"

  "Seriously?" Daisy frowned. "How can you think that? Do I seem unhappy? Are my grades slipping? Am I stressed?" she demanded.

  "No, no and no." Charlotte sighed.

  "So, what am I, then, what exactly do you mean when you say you know I've been to the club with Joel?"

  "You're like you are now," Charlotte replied. "All chilled and serene."

  Daisy sent her friend a baffled look as she idly twirled her long wooden beads "And this is bad…how?"

  Charlotte didn't answer, just shook her head sharply in defeat, sending her long dark hair rippling down her back.

  Casting a sidelong look, Daisy giggled cheekily, showing off her single dimple. "You're just frustrated 'cos you fancy the pants off of Jake and you're not brave enough to dip your toe into the kink. Repressed and sexually unfulfilled!" she pronounced with her best therapist impersonation. "What you need is a good seeing to!"

  Daisy sprang to her feet, grinning at Charlotte's bemused expression. "I've got to get to my afternoon class," she announced as she grabbed her bag. "We're having a demonstration of some cutting-edge pottery glazing techniques, and I want to get a good seat," she confided as she launched her sandwich wrapper into a nearby bin, pumping the air with her fist when the improvised ball achieved its target. "Score!" Daisy whooped merrily, bouncing on the balls of her feet and sending her shoulder length curls bobbing gaily around her head. Her trademark ribbon fluttered at her temple, today's was tied in a sunny yellow bow with trailing ends. It matched the trim on her scooped neck peasant blouse which hung negligently off one shoulder. Her delighted laughter bubbled in typical joyful abandon.

  Setting off, Daisy waved cheerily over her shoulder. "See you later," she called happily, and Charlotte watched as Daisy bounded off energetically, oblivious to the admiring glances and smiles she drew from those around her at the spirited exhilaration and unguarded enthusiasm for life that radiated from her.

  Somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed the hour as Daisy made her way down into the basement of the grandiose Victorian house on the outskirts of the university campus that Joel Blackwood shared with his cousin, Jake Blackwood, and their family friend, Eric Oliver.

  Daisy mentally counted off the seven chimes and checked it against her wristwatch, wondering whether it was that which was out by five or six minutes or the impressive grandfather clock that graced the formal dining room. Probably her watch, she thought, giving it an absent tap.

  This whole house, as well as its occupants, were all from old money. Joel's father was CEO of their family business, a multi-billion conglomerate with its fingers in all kinds of pies. Joel was being groomed to take over the position in the future, but Daisy had never been interested in trying to get her head around whatever it was they did.

  The tight-lipped housekeeper had let her in with a vaguely disapproving look, which Daisy automatically shrugged off. Why on earth the woman always felt the need to judge her was beyond Daisy and she never let it bother her, although she admitted to being vaguely curious as to why Mrs. Myrtle always looked at her so disparagingly, as if she was some layer of filth that was being trodden onto the marble floors. People were people as far as Daisy was concerned, rich or poor, black or white, clever or not; they all ate and slept and hurt and bled and laughed and loved. Everyone was equal in Daisy's mind; some might be more beautiful, others cleverer, some worked harder, others had more compassion, but everyone had something that made them unique.

  Daisy was her own person; she tried never to be judgemental and she certainly kept any such thoughts to herself. She was confident in her appearance and her character. She tried hard to be nice to people and she was always unfailingly polite, regardless. People could take her or leave her. Daisy had always rationalised that if anyone wanted to demean her, then she certainly didn't need them in her life. She didn't get into it with them; she was never rude; she simply distanced herself accordingly, and if that wasn't possible, then she was aloof but respectful.

  Maybe Mrs. Myrtle knew about Daisy and Joel's kinky sex life and didn't approve. Daisy understood that some people had extremely adverse opinions of the lifestyle. Poor Jake was still mired deeply in the hostile and critical publicity caused when his ex-girlfriend turned out to be a reporter looking for dirt on the eminent Blackwood family to fu
rther her career.

  Daisy pursed her lips and frowned; what was between her and Joel didn't affect anyone else and it was certainly nobody else's business. She wondered what it was that made others imagine they had any kind of right to comment or interfere with the personal quirks of private individuals when those practices were through mutual consent and reciprocal respect.

  The basement area was spacious and clear of the antiques and lavish furnishings that characterised the rest of the house. It had been fashioned into a gym, and Daisy often thought that Joel and Jake seemed more at home down here than in the rest of the place which was a little formal and stuffy for her taste, despite her admiration for the artistic creations of past generations.

  Eric was a different matter entirely. She'd tried hard to be positive about him since he was Joel's friend, but Daisy was a little ashamed that she'd always thought him to be somewhat conceited and rather intimidating. And not just because he had gotten fresh with her and majorly overstepped the line one time and things had gotten a bit nasty.

  Daisy still shuddered at the memory. She often watched him preening in the ostentatious surroundings as he'd showed some new conquest around, lavishing his girls with champagne and jewellery while they simpered and fawned around him but always looked far more calculating behind his back.

  Daisy had consciously squelched her negative sentiments towards Eric and tried to be a good friend, tentatively reaching out to him and gently suggesting that maybe the girls he picked up were more than a little too interested in his money. Eric had looked down his nose at her in disdain and sneered that he could buy whatever he desired, even women—classy women from prestigious backgrounds who were obviously beyond her comprehension.