One step, then another brought her closer to the trembling man. She ran the end of the whip from his chin down to his groin and tapped his cock. “I’m allowed to do whatever I wish with him, Mistress Madeline?”
“Whatever you wish.” Madeline guided Army’s hands around her waist and encouraged him to touch her as he pleased.
He wasted no time and went straight for her breasts, diving his hands beneath the cups of her corset and squeezing the mounds with rough fingers. She cooed and reached up and behind to guide his head down for him to ravish her neck with biting kisses.
The hanging submissive released a whimper that turned into a cry as Jasmina released the whip and struck him across the back then let the leather fly three more times in quick succession. She walked up behind the man to press her breasts against the pink welts and grabbed his hair in her hand.
“Watch her and take your punishment,” she growled in his ear. “See what happens when you disrespect your mistress with your childish games. Watch as another man takes what is supposed to be yours.”
Madeline sat down in the chair and hooked her leg over each arm, spreading her thighs wide apart. Her skirt was rucked up to her waist, exposing the slick folds of her bare sex. She motioned to Army who fell to his knees and dived into the offered treat.
Jasmina took a step back and readied her stance for another strike. As she raised her hand, she glanced out into the audience, her dark gaze landed on Marco and her eyes widened with surprise. For several seconds they breathed as one, his fingers curling around the back of the couch as he waited for her next move.
“Well, well, well,” Amaryllis sighed and nudged him with her hip, breaking the spell.
Jasmina’s gaze narrowed and her upper lip ticked with a snarl. Marco silently apologized to the hanging man, afraid that whatever emotion his mere presence ignited within her was going to be taken out on his hide.
* * * **
Marco DeWinter. The man was like a virus she couldn’t shake.
What was he thinking, up on his feet and standing in her club watching her at work? And hanging on to Amaryllis as well? Grrr.
She already told him she wasn’t interested in being his intro into the BDSM lifestyle. Or was he here to scout for another Mistress? In her domain? If so, he was even more arrogant than she imagined and long overdue for a lesson in respecting her wishes.
Crack. Crack. With a flick of her wrist she created matching welts on each of Megabyte’s butt cheeks. She wove a crisscross pattern from shoulder to hip then worked the back of each thigh. Between lashes she glanced in Marco’s direction and took great delight in how he flinched with each lash. Sweat glistened on his forehead and he was all but panting as she delivered her punishment.
Madeline did her part, moaning her pleasure as Army used his talented tongue on her clit.
“That’s so good,” she cried and pulled at her nipples. “I’m going to come all over his face.”
Army groaned and his head moved back and forth in an effort to bring Madeline to her orgasm.
“Oh yes. Oh, yes!” Her head fell back and her thighs squeezed Army’s head.
Jasmine dropped the whip. She stepped forward and ground her rough corset-covered breasts against Megabyte’s ravaged back. She reached around his waist and found his cock, rock hard and slick to the touch.
“Look what your arrogance cost you,” she said and worked his cock with her palm. “Her orgasm could have been yours. That could have been your mouth tasting her flesh.”
A sob broke past his lips. “I’m sorry. Sorry.”
“Are you? I don’t think you deserve a Mistress as fine as Madeline.”
“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I promise. I promise.”
“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet.” She squeezed the base of his cock and stemmed the tide of cum from erupting. “Army, show Mistress Madeline what she could be playing with instead.”
Madeline reached for the straining fly of Army’s jeans with eager hands. She licked her lips as she drew out his erection, hard with a shiny, plum-shaped head ready to release his cum at her command.
“Ooo, she likes this new toy,” Jasmine taunted and matched the strokes of Madeline’s hands on Megabyte’s cock. “Do you want to see your new toy come, Mistress?”
“Absolutely.” She reclined back in her seat and resumed palming her breasts. She nodded at Army. “Stroke your cock.”
Immediately he complied. “Like this, Mistress?”
“Yes. Good boy. Make it feel good, but don’t come until I say.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he grunted.
“That is how a sub behaves,” Jasmine said in the weeping computer technician’s ear. “Your sole purpose is to please your Mistress. Look at the strain on his face. Look at how tight the muscles are on his forearms. He wants to come so bad, but he will wait. And wait. And wait. The anticipation is maddening, isn’t it?”
From the corner of her eye she scanned the audience. Gazes were torn, switching back and forth between Army masturbating before Madeline and Jasmine’s hand pumping Megabyte. But the only person’s attention she was really interested in was Marco. His eyes never left her, touching on her from the top of her head to the points of her bare feet. He was with her, feeling her. It was as if he were the one in her arms, bearing her marks on his back, cock throbbing in her fist. Waiting for her command.
“Come, Army,” Madeline barked. “Come on my tits.”
A strangled cry broke past Army’s lips as he released a stream of cum on Madeline’s breasts. She twirled her fingers in the milky liquid, rubbing it into her skin. When the last drop fell on her pink nipple, Madeline sent him a pleased smile and nodded her head. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head, awaiting his next instruction.
“See, Megabyte. He came on what was yours.” Jasmine quickened her strokes. “He got to come on your Mistress’s tits. And you get to come on the floor. Come for me. Now.”
Megabyte bellowed and shot several jets of cum at his Mistress’s feet. Jasmine searched again for Marco and their gazes locked. “Come,” she said again.
Marco’s eyes widened and he jerked as if he’d been poked in the gut. He hunched over the couch, his jaw clenched tight and his lips pressed in a firm line. Those dark eyes of his glittered up at her with want, hunger, and the need for more.
Heaven help her, she wanted to give it to him.
Between her legs she was completely drenched. Her sheath pulsed and flexed. She wanted to fuck and be fucked with a level of desperation she never felt before. The muscles in her thighs twitched, ready to jump off that stage, march over to Marco and throw him onto the floor. She’d lick his cum from his belly and ride him into the ground.
The click of Madeline’s heels on the floor snapped her back into the right frame of mind. She jumped back and shook her head, dissipating the cloud of lust toying with her control. Yes, a sub was meant to provide their Master pleasure, and yes, she sometimes referred to her men as toys, but she never treated them as objects. She took her time learning exactly how to extract the last bit of enjoyment from her subs before allowing them to penetrate her body. It wasn’t like her to want to abuse Marco in such a manner.
Madeline approached her sub, who swayed in his bonds and sucked in great gulps of air. She tilted his chin up with her finger and leaned in ’til the tips of their noses touched.
“This is your only warning, Megabyte. I don’t suffer fools, and your childish games are not welcomed here. I accepted you as my sub because I saw a need within you to be seen. I still believe that, and I can make all of your wishes come true. But on my terms. If you are ready to be the submissive I need, I will see you on Saturday at nine sharp. If not, don’t come back. Understood?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he stuttered. His voice sounded hoarse and he kept his gaze directed at the floor.
“Thank Mistress Jasmina for her instruction.”
“Thank you, Mistress Jasmina.”
Jasmine trai
led her fingers across his shoulders, horrified at how badly her hands trembled. She curled them into a fist. “You’re welcome.”
Madeline gave the signal, and three of the club stewards climbed onto the stage to assist with bringing Megabyte down from his restraints. The lesson was over, but the aftercare was just beginning.
As the men worked on Megabyte, Jasmine walked over to Army who sat on his knees, exactly as he had been instructed.
She ran her fingers through his short blond hair and cupped his cheek. “You did well. I’m so proud of you.”
His eyelashes fluttered and against her palm the muscles of his face flinched with a brief smile.
“Every Dom here is going to want you now.”
He sucked in a sharp breath and his startled gaze flew to hers before he remembered his place and dropped his head.
“You may speak,” she said.
“Do you think so?”
“Ah, honey.” She smoothed her thumb over his wrinkled brow. He had had such a difficult start at the beginning as he struggled to accept his true nature. And just as Madeline had seen something in Megabyte, Jasmine had seen the man Army could become. It saddened her to see how he still didn’t see it in himself. “You have no idea. I’ve already had several people asking me if they can take you on. After this demonstration, I’m going to be hounded until I narrow the finalists down for your choosing.”
The happiness that infused him was like a million-watt light bulb, straightening his spine and shining from his eyes in a golden glow. His smile was wide, and no matter how hard he tried, he simply could not contain his joy. She rubbed his head again and commanded him to stand.
“Come on, Mitch. Let’s go unwind.” She grasped his biceps and led him off the stage.
Just like that, her submissive disappeared and in his place was her friend. “What about you, Jasmine? Do you have my replacement picked out yet? I saw the line parked outside your dungeon when I arrived. It was crazy.”
News of their separation had spread through the club as fast as an embarrassing photo on social media. The line of eager subs in the hallway outside her personal dungeon had shocked her. She knew she was good but not that popular. So many faces, yet at that moment she couldn’t remember one of them. The only face haunting her at the moment belonged to a certain police officer with salt-and-pepper hair and dark eyes that pleaded for her to show him the way.
Did she have the courage to take him on the journey or would she play it safe with someone already accustomed to the lifestyle?
She looked up at Mitch and drew a deep breath. “I think I do.”
Chapter Five
Marco’s stomach growled the second he stepped through the front door of his home. Abby was cooking something yummy and by the scent he could tell that it was meat and delicious. Since he had skipped lunch, she could have made tofu and bean sprouts and he’d still wolf it down. Thank goodness she had taken a break from her usual campaign to get him to eat a healthier diet.
“Hey,” he called out and hung up his jacket on the coat tree. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you kidding me?” She stepped out of the kitchen, spatula in hand and a scowl on her pretty face. “You went to work. You’re supposed to be resting. You’re lucky I didn’t come down to the station and drag you back home by the ear.”
“I did rest. For four days.” He kissed her cheek and went to the stove and lifted the lid. “Smells good. Seriously, Abby, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to take care of me. I know you probably have better stuff to do than watch my ass.”
“You almost died. Of course I’m going to take care of you. And it looks like you need taking care of. Sit. I’ll get you some stew. How are your legs?”
“They’re fine. I told you. I’m fine.” He snagged a bottle of beer for himself and a soda for Abby and settled in at the kitchen table. “How was work?”
“Same old, same old. All of the girls think you’re a hero and wanted to come over and help take care of you. Jeez. It’s creepy when your friends want to give your brother a sponge bath.”
He choked on a sip of beer and chuckled. “Sorry. Can’t help it if the ladies love me.”
“Eww.” She stuck out her tongue and shook her head.
Well, at least those girls were interested in him. Marco picked at the label on his bottle and recalled the sight of Mistress Jasmina in all her glory as she broke that man down with her whip. It was one thing to imagine what exactly it meant to be a submissive, and another, more terrifying thing to see it with your own eyes. To hear the crack of leather on flesh and skin slapping skin. To smell the salty, musky scent of sweat and sex. To see the wave of lust as it consumed every person in that room until they writhed as one in sexual torment until she released them all with power of one word. Absolutely mind blowing.
He hadn’t been the only one to come in his pants at her command. The couple who had been hot and heavy on the loveseat had fallen onto the floor and fucked like beasts along with several others who joined them. To his right several men had their cocks out, timing their strokes to match Jasmina’s, all of them enthralled in her performance. If it hadn’t been for Amaryllis’s presence at his side, he might have forgotten who he was and joined them in their circle jerk. In a word, Jasmina had been magnificent.
And absolute hell on his libido. After she had walked off arm in arm with her sub, he ran out of there so fast, he barely said goodbye to Mrs. Kilsgaard. He jerked off twice the moment he walked through his front door, and again in the shower just that morning. Never had he been so hot for a woman that she infiltrated his every thought.
When he had reached for his dick for the fourth time in twelve hours, he said fuck it and went into work, even though his muscles were sore from venturing out the night before. His body wasn’t bouncing back as quickly as it had when he was younger, and he felt the strain as if he’d climbed up Mt. Rainier. Nonetheless, there was no way he was going to spend the entire day jerking off to a fantasy, so he had hobbled into the office, only to be tormented by lingering arousal while in the midst of his coworkers instead of the privacy of his home.
There had to be a way to get Mistress Jasmina off his mind.
Abby set a thick manila envelope on the table. “This was on the porch when I arrived.”
He righted the envelope to see his name and address scrawled in an elegant script across the front. In the corner was an address. No name, only a return address that he recognized.
The Cavern.
Immediately his dick began to harden and he jumped from his seat to race out of the room towards his office. “Be right back,” he mumbled.
His hands shook as he practically mauled the fastener and withdrew a black folder. Purple feathers framed his name, which was written in gold ink in the same script as the envelope. Inside were what looked like legal documents, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the two names on top. Marco DeWinter and Mistress Jasmina.
“Hot damn,” he groaned and fell into his chair behind his desk.
In the left pocket was a typewritten letter on heavy cream-colored stock. The purple feather image was stamped on the top in metallic ink. The paper fluttered as he withdrew it from the pocket and held it up to the light.
My dearest Captain,
You have been invited to join me in my dungeon at The Cavern to begin your introduction into the bondage, domination, sadist, masochist lifestyle in which you recently expressed an interest. Under my tutelage you will receive the proper instruction and guidance on how to behave as a submissive and the skills to please your Mistress. All of our interactions will be conducted with safety and respect as the utmost priorities.
In this folder you will find the contract outlining the exact details of our arrangement. Read this document in its entirety and answer all questions honestly. Any false answers or hedging could lead to serious complications or dangerous situations, and could be grounds for immediate termination of the agreement.
The journey to accept
ing one’s submissive nature is difficult and mentally taxing. You will experience highs and lows you have never imagined. This lifestyle is not for everyone, and I will understand if you decide not to accept my invitation. You will learn that in all things, you always have a choice.
Please text me your response to the number listed below. If you wish to continue, bring the completed contract to the bar at Tutala, Thursday evening at 8pm to discuss your answers and solidify our arrangement. If your work schedule does not allow for this time, please let me know of an alternative.
I look forward to your reply.
Mistress Jasmina’s signature was scrawled across the bottom in purple ink along with a phone number.
“Wow.” Marco blew out a breath and wiped his hand over the back of his neck. “Wow.”
This chick was serious. If he hadn’t seen her in action the night before, he might have thought she was acting way over the top with this entire dominatrix persona. If anything, this letter coupled with the sight of her cracking that whip confirmed she was one hundred percent committed to her role. One miscalculation on her part and that sub could have been castrated on the spot.
And you want a piece of that?
Yeah. Maybe. Hell, he wasn’t certain. After what he had witnessed along with that letter, it was crystal clear this was no game to Mistress Jasmina. If he was in, he had to be in one hundred percent. If not, then he needed to leave her the hell alone and stop tormenting himself with fantasies of what might have been.
He pulled out the contract and flipped through the pages. His balls drew up into his body and he felt his eyes bug out of their sockets the more he read. Mistress Jasmina was certainly thorough. There was a section for his medical history, which was left for him to fill out, but under the instructions on how to obtain a blood test for any sexually transmitted diseases, she had marked “already fulfilled”. His blood must have been tested when he was in the hospital.
“Whoa.”
While it was comforting to know he wasn’t carrying any STDs, he was horrified to realize he hadn’t even thought about the consequences of engaging in this sort of activity. When she said safety was a priority, she was leaving no stone unturned.
Only at The Cavern Page 7