by Barbra Novac
Walking down the corridor with her hand in Peter's, Marianne felt nervous anticipation from her lack of knowledge. Would Peter expect her to play as people did at the POS? Not knowing quite how she felt about that exhilarated her. She knew not to ask Peter what his plans for her would be. That was Peter's business at this stage of the game. She'd be finding out soon enough, and until that moment, only the fear and anticipation were hers.
The door a little farther down opened as well. Marianne learned from her research that these kinds of places would lock the doors if voyeurs weren't invited, and they'd leave them open if onlookers were welcome. Unsurprisingly they walked past a couple of closed doors before they reached an open one.
As before, Peter ushered Marianne immediately toward the back, where they joined about ten other folks who watched. It wasn't until in place—toward the front of the crowd with Peter pressed in hard behind her—that she could look around the room.
This room looked like an old 1970s-style classroom. One blackboard stood up the front, covered in mathematics lessons, and a clean blackboard that stood against the back wall. Maps adorned the rest of the walls. Desks were in lines facing the mathematics lesson, and behind each desk stood a chair.
Up the front, an older man wearing tight jeans and a simple button-down shirt read from a mathematics textbook in a droning voice. He taught seven women dressed as schoolgirls, sitting in front of him at their desks. Each woman had pen, notebooks, textbooks, and a bag by her desk. The room even had a slow-turning fan in the roof. The attention to detail impressed Marianne. The role-play must have been going for some while, as a woman stood in the corner with her back to the room and a tall dunce cap on her head.
“Amy, what's the answer to number three? I've asked you twice now,” the schoolteacher demanded.
He was an attractive man. He kept his body in good condition, although he had to be a good thirty years older than the women in the room. Looking at him, Marianne's pussy began to moisten. This gave the impression of being an exciting moment.
“I'm not sure, Sir,” stammered a woman in a tartan skirt, white blouse, long socks, and black shoes.
Sir slammed the book shut and threw it on the teacher's desk. Standing with his hands on his hips, he said, “That's because you haven't been listening. None of you has. First Linda is in the corner and then came that foolish, distracting giggling.”
A brief pregnant pause came before one of the women sitting down let out half a stifled giggle, setting the teacher off again.
“What! Jasmine, are you laughing? It isn't funny! I've had it with this class today. You are all very naughty girls, and you need to be punished.”
He turned his attention to Jasmine.
“Because you giggled, you'll go first. I want the rest of you naughty girls to see what punishment you will be getting. Jasmine, come up here. I am going teach you a lesson you'll remember.”
“Oh, no, Sir, please. I'm so sorry. I'll be a good girl. I promise I won't let it happen again.”
Jasmine looked genuinely afraid. If it weren't for the sly smile she gave the woman next to her, the act would have caused a little worry for her well-being. The small crowd watching turned their eyes from the hapless Jasmine to the teacher.
“You should have thought of that before you were so silly. Come up here.”
Jasmine walked toward the front of the room, and Marianne had a moment to look at her properly. She wore the same tartan skirt with long white socks, black shoes, and the white shirt as the other girls. But Jasmine's very short skirt distracted everyone in the room. It sat slightly below the curve of her voluptuous, smooth bottom, and as she walked, tiny flashes of those warm globes appeared for the appreciative eyes of the audience.
She stood before the teacher, her hands clasped behind her back, her swelling breasts trying to push their way through the thin, white shirt.
The teacher stared at her breasts. He swallowed hard.
“You know, Jasmine, your uniform is far too short. You need to be careful of things like that.”
“Do I, Sir?” Again, Jasmine's acting made her so believable. Her wide-eyed and innocent eyes looked up at the schoolteacher naively.
“Yes, you do. Turn around so I can show the other girls how short your skirt is.”
Jasmine turned around, leaning slightly forward to exaggerate the swell of her lovely, firm ass.
The teacher stood next to her, facing the rest of the girls. Moving his hands to either side of Jasmine, he drew her skirt up her ass a little farther, to reveal she wore a thong, leaving her full cheeks to maximum exposure. The girls in the class and the small group of voyeurs all leaned in to get a better look at Jasmine's ass. From behind her, Peter reached around to fondle Marianne's extending nipple, looping his fingers into the top of her corset to do so.
The teacher ran a hand over the honey-colored ass available for all to see.
Soon Jasmine said, “Oh, Sir, it feels good when you do that.”
“You're still a naughty girl. Skirts like this give men boners, and you must be punished for that, as well as the giggling.”
He lowered her skirt and walked around his desk. Picking up the teacher's chair, he carried it to the front of the room and sat on it, his profile to the rest of the room.
“Jasmine, come here immediately,” he commanded.
Jasmine stood, and her skirt slid down her bottom. Her ass wiggled as she walked to the chair. Standing with her back to the voyeurs, the teacher pulled her down so that she lay across his knee. Her completely exposed bottom, now available for all to see, wobbled suggestively, a truly beautiful sight.
Marianne pressed her own curvy ass back into Peter, to feel his intense erection pressing into her. One of his arms trailed its way around her body and held her belly close to his torso.
“Ohhh, Sir, don't hurt me,” Jasmine squealed.
“Watch this closely, girls! Soon you will all be getting the same.” The teacher lifted Jasmine's skirt high on her ass as he spoke to the other schoolgirls who were next in line.
With Jasmine braced across his knee, the teacher pulled her legs apart to reveal the thin blue material of her thong pressed hard against her slit. The panties had a growing damp patch at her opening, and all of the audience stared, mesmerized, at the beautiful, material-clad pussy with its lips curling out on either side of the thong.
The teacher lifted his hand, and brought it down hard—smack—on the naughty girl's bottom. She squealed with delight, and then he smacked her again and then again.
“Oh, Sir, please stop. It hurts,” giggled Jasmine.
“By the look of your hot little pussy, you are enjoying it!”
Smack! Another slap bounced down on her ass. This time, the teacher ran his hand over the rounds of her bottom and slid his fingers between her legs to caress the wet patch that all could see gathering between her legs.
“Let's get out of here,” Peter whispered in Marianne's ear.
Without a word, Marianne let herself be led out of the room, perhaps a little reluctantly, the thoughts of that lovely dark pussy aching in front of her etched in her mind.
In the corridor, Peter grabbed her and pushed her against a wall with some force. He pressed himself into her body so that she could feel the strength of his erection firm against her lower belly. Kissing her mouth, he stuck his tongue deep into her, and lifted a hand to caress her breast over the top of her corset.
Pulling his head back momentarily, he whispered to her, “I want you to come tonight, but not in that room. Unfortunately, if I left you there too long, you'd get into a place where you couldn't wait to be fucked.”
A fair comment. Marianne knew she'd be in that place fairly soon.
“I want you for myself tonight; your first orgasm will be for me. However, I have another room I want to show you, and then I have arranged some people for you to meet. Our night's not over yet, sweetheart.”
And he pulled himself off her, taking her hand, ready for the next r
oom.
Chapter Fourteen
Peter led Marianne into the next room. It looked like a dungeon, even to a novice like Marianne.
The walls were painted black, and large black candlesticks dotted strategically about the room. They had enough light to see well, but again only by candlelight, which gave the room an eerie and romantic kind of glow. The black paint extended even to the cement floor. On the windows that formed part of the external wall hung long, black velvet curtains with huge black ropes and tassels holding them in place. Because of the stark nature of the place, the coolness made Marianne's nipples stand out hard inside her corset.
Once more, a group of about five people stood in a corner, acting as witness to the proceedings. In the middle of the room were four people wearing large, heavy robes. They prepared two tables made of thick, chunky wood. Together they pushed the tables next to one another.
Priestly chants added to the atmosphere of a kind of religious sacrifice. The whole scene looked as though a ritual would be performed.
On each table, large shackles attached to big D rings, stood out of each corner, and one of the robed people placed a rope at each end.
“What's going to happen?” Marianne asked Peter.
“Shhh…You can't stay if you talk. You have to just watch.”
Peter looked rather sternly at her, and Marianne felt ashamed for a brief moment. She looked around and saw that a few of the others were looking at her, and she reprimanded herself for shaming Peter in this way, and by extension, shaming herself. Sure, they were in a game, but the best way to play it used everything inside of her, and she wanted to play it right.
Looking back at the scene in the room, the distraction in front of her made all associated with the mistake forgotten.
Two of the four people in cloaks left the room through a small side door the size of a walk-in cupboard. They emerged straightaway with two people, a man and a woman, who were blindfolded and naked, the man sporting a huge erection. Their bonds were rope, tied chain-gang style, through the hands and the feet. They'd both been fitted with leather straps around their feet and their hands, straps that had large D rings on them.
Marianne watched wide-eyed.
They brought the two people to the tables. Due to the tightness of their bonds, they hobbled as they walked, increasing their humiliation. In a way, it amused her, although Marianne wasn't going to admit it.
Then, in an awkward, but at the same time apparently practiced move, two of the robed figures lifted the couple, one at a time and placed them on the tables. Marianne assumed they must be men. The other two figures lifted the feet at the same time and helped to get the couple in place. Now began the business of tying each of them spread-eagled to the shackles. The man's erection lurched forward, obvious to all, and every now and then some acolyte would bang against it, and it would wobble about.
With the couple tied to the table and unable to move, the chanting intensified, getting louder and faster, a tone higher now. The pleasure coming from the couple on the table filtered through the air, such that every witness envied them. The four robed people followed the music's direction and moved around the couple on the table in time with the chants. Marianne pressed into Peter's body. He had his arms around her in a protective manner, and she turned her face into his chest if it got to be a little too much. The eerie nature of this wound its way around her. Even though she knew it to be a game, its seriousness weighed heavily.
The robed people worked themselves up into frenzied dancing around the couple on the table. The man's erection strengthened and soon one of the robed people dipped his fingers into the vagina of the woman and brought them out covered with her juice. He fed them to her mouth, and she arched herself against the restraints in order to suck his fingers clean.
Marianne could feel Peter's erection again through his trousers, and she felt her own arousal starting to seep out of her a little. She must have been so wet. The intensity of the stimulation surprised her. Still, there was no way she was going to miss what happened next.
Soon the chanting gave way to the four people standing around the table. One of the smaller of the robed figures—Marianne guessed a woman—moved to a large thing in the corner covered by a black sheet. She wheeled it over to the foot of the tables. The robed creatures whipped the sheet off and revealed a hideous sort of contraption, all machinery, cogs, and wheels except for two enormous shiny metal dildos at the ends of robotic-looking arms. Marianne felt her pussy tighten. The scene's eroticism twisted its way into her, taking her over.
The robed woman climbed onto the machine from behind and started to simulate sex with it. She thrust against it appearing to be in total ecstasy. The other robed people watched her. By now, Marianne knew her sex for sure because as she danced erotically with the machine, her robe fell open at certain times to reveal large, well-shaped breasts.
Soon she finished her dance, joining the others. They appeared to be in pairs of man and woman, and each stood between an arm of the machine and one of the people spread on the table. Then the music hit another crescendo, and the robed people moved into position beside the machine. Each of them tilted the heavy hood from their faces to reveal, as Marianne has suspected, two couples. When each of the men reached out, grabbed the women by their hair, and pulled their faces on to each of the large metal dildos, the women sucked and sucked voluptuously, and their saliva dripping down the cold-looking steel shafts.
Once the women had finished lubing up the shafts—it looked to Marianne as though their lubrication would never be enough—each couple played with the cogs on the arms and bent the massive objects toward the couple on the table. Marianne knew what they were going to do with the woman, but she couldn't tell about the man.
At this moment, Peter leaned down and kissed her, and Marianne felt the hardness between his legs. She tried not to actually moan, but she gave a sort of sigh into his mouth. Feeling self-conscious, she looked behind her and saw that all the voyeurs were nestling into couples, and soon, in their little corner of the room would be a full-blown orgy. Marianne wasn't surprised. She'd never seen anything this sexy in her life.
Soon each robed couple had the dildos in place. They gave one last chant, their faces tilted toward the ceiling, and then they leaned on the back of the dildos and pressed them into the people on the table. The large machines pumped the dildos into the couple. The woman's went into her vagina, and as Marianne saw, the man's went into his ass.
“Oh, Jesus, fuck yeah,” screamed the fucked man as the robed man started to massage the monster in and out of him. The woman moved to his face and opened her robe so that her beautiful breasts were at his face. She leaned over him so that he could suck on her tits as she rubbed them into him, forcing his cock to swell and swell until fit to burst.
The woman didn't scream anything out; she just started moaning as the other woman pumped the huge, nasty-looking machine in and out of her. The man walked over to her face, and pulling back his robe, revealed an enormous erection that he fed to her mouth as the machine fucked her.
Marianne felt faint with desire. The room filled with the noise of the dildos slickly running in and out of their holes and moans of longing from the man and woman. Soon the man's legs stiffened, and his pelvis started to rise. His penis looked like it had been carved out of wood. Stripping back her attire to reveal her naked body, the robed woman climbed onto the table and straddled his face so that everyone could plainly see her vagina, as it pressed hard down into his mouth. Then his dick started to twitch, and with a huge moan, he shot white hot cum up into the air so that it landed on his belly and on the back of the woman.
Just after this, the woman feeding the dildo into the woman laid out on the table, leaned in and licked hard on the clitoris of her victim. The bound woman moaned around the cock in her mouth, and her legs went stiff as well as she started to buck hard against the machine. It kept fucking her and fucking her while she writhed in humiliated ecstasy, Marianne and Peter witne
ss to her dark pleasures.
Peter took Marianne's hand at this point and led her out of the room.
“Seen enough?” he asked.
“Absolutely not!” Marianne grinned back at him.
Peter looked at her with his head slightly cocked to one side. “This is all pretty full-on. No problems? Are you having any trouble with it at all?”
Marianne thought about her honesty and the stand she had adopted in all her interactions with Peter.
“It is full-on, but I'm really enjoying it. If there is a worry in me, it's only how much I am enjoying it. I can't understand why I've never seen it in myself before.”
Peter smiled warmly at her.
“My beautiful, naughty girl. There are conflicting ideas about it, but this I can unconditionally promise you: it is safe. And, while I'm next to you, no harm will come to you. We can play in this world, be safe, and take our time to understand ourselves through it. Would you like to do that with me?”
Marianne felt an overwhelming surge of love flood through her.
“Yes, Peter,” was the most she could muster, but she felt that the entire universe should swell in a chorus behind her for emphasis.
“Then, no more of those shows for tonight. I think you've seen enough. But there is more of the night that I want you to experience.”
Again, he took her hand. Feeling the weight of it on her palm and in her heart, she followed him into the next room.
This room looked like a large sitting room, furnished after a more modern style with a great deal of money behind it. Marianne, who knew a little about interiors, recognized Eames chairs in the corner and a fully restored Philadelphia Chippendale toward the back. There were several objets d'art around the place. The room reminded Marianne of a salon of Parisian fame, but with a modern, extremely sophisticated touch.
The varied forms of dress filled the room with the now familiar collection of people. Marianne had gotten very used to seeing people in BDSM garb and by now relished the approving stares her own outfit received. Marianne and Peter were treated differently in this room. As soon as they entered, people came up, said “hi” to Peter, and then allowed themselves to be introduced to Marianne.