by Flora Dain
He finally makes his choice and unhooks a large black flogger, the long strands evil and businesslike.
“Now let’s see how fast you can come.”
He gives the whip a few expert flicks of his wrist as he turns back toward me. The strands swish through the air in a brisk figure of eight and make a terrifying hiss before he moves around behind me, out of sight.
A trickle of sweat crawls down my back as I close my eyes. I feel a rush of air as the strands swish around me again then land on my back with a muffled slap. They slide sensuously off my skin, agonizingly slow, snaking round my legs and my quivering arms.
The whip falls again and again, on my breasts, my arms, my back and my legs.
I wait for the sting, the awful pain that a whip that size must surely have, but it never comes. Either his touch is deliberately light—I’ve taken a lot of punishment this week—or the whip is soft. It must be suede.
At each blow I flinch, but I receive only endless shocks of sensual pleasure. Soon I’m tingling all over, the softness unbearably repeated, the strokes never ending. The blows grow harsher, but now the hissing strands have lost any power to sting as my skin glows all over, craving each new contact, tingling and burning from the constant stimulation.
But the blows speed up along my inner thighs and now I guess what’s coming. Why else would he want my legs forced open into a tempting, vertical line?
Each new blow lands a fraction closer to my aching, burning center. The soft strands hiss along my skin, higher and higher. At last, with terrifying precision, the whip lands right across my splayed slit.
I’ve been teased and aroused for hours, perilously close to the peak again and again, continually denied. I’ve been dreading and craving this moment and now it’s here.
Helpless against his onslaught, I surrender to his will as the whip lands again and again, his aim precise and merciless, stoking my excitement to agonizing heights. Finally I explode, the spasms erupting through me in waves of pleasure. I quiver in my bonds, too tightly held to writhe and thrash like I want, as tears of relief course down my face.
With a shout he throws down the whip and folds his arms around me. Impatient fingers tear at the buckle of the gag. Gently he eases it out of my mouth, flings it away then captures my lips. His eager tongue surges into me, warm and thrillingly alive after the unfeeling plastic.
As my spasms die away, he releases my lips and gently unhooks the chains, holding me fast as I sway against him, weary now and trembling with relief.
“You’re so beautiful. I could watch you for hours.” After a few moments he gently pushes me down. “Now me.”
His erection is huge now, a touching reminder that he’s held off for so long. As it leaps before my face, I take him gently in my mouth, eager for him to share the rapture still coursing through me. Above me his chest heaves as I take him deep, swallowing lustily.
At last he pauses, quivers and comes over my tongue, filling my mouth with his stinging, fizzing essence. I’m almost relieved for him. It seems a small thank you for such an intense experience.
At last his breathing slows and he raises me gently to my feet. “You amaze me, as ever.” He kisses me gently on the forehead and enfolds me in his arms. “And now to bed. We’ve had a long day.”
I smile up at him. “And an even longer night.”
It’s already growing light as we reach our rooms. He makes me kneel beside him while he runs a bath, swirls in some foam then climbs in, signaling for me to join him. He massages my aching shoulders with scented gel.
“Today’s our last day. I can hardly believe it.” I lie back in his arms with a sigh. It’s been a turbulent week, but it’s been heaven.
“Have you enjoyed it?”
I feel his breath on my ear as he clasps his arms around me, pulling me to him. The suds swirl over my breasts. Below the surface I feel his erection rise again and press into my back, pulsing a little as I flex against it.
“Yes. Very much.” Am I giving myself away? I hope I won’t regret this.
Next week I’ll be his twenty-four seven. That was the agreement. Goodness only knows what he plans to do to me then.
“It might be your last day of training but up to midnight, you’re still in my care.” His voice is soft but his tone is stern. The water swishes around us as he pushes me forward, rises to his feet and raises me up to face him.
As I open my mouth to protest, he smiles, places a finger on my lips and reaches for a towel. “Hush. Save your strength for your last day. You’re going to need it.”
He climbs out of the bath, sweeps me up in his arms and carries me over to the bed. I nuzzle into his neck, limp with content as he lays me down then curls around me, pulling his toweling robe over us both. He buries his face in my hair, murmuring his last command of the day in a soft baritone.
“Sleep. Now.”
* * * *
I wake late in the morning in a shaft of noon sun. Cade is standing over me with a glass of orange juice. A trolley heaped with good things is standing by the door.
“Here, try this. Then come and eat. You must be famished after yesterday.”
The juice is fresh and sweet.
He glances up as I join him at the small table and help myself to a croissant. “Leave the coffee. I’ve ordered fresh.”
As I eat, I gaze at him, drinking in the sight of his firm, regular features gilded by the sun.
He glances up, his dark eyes alight with mischief. “Looking forward to your last day?”
When the waiter’s gone, I sip the fresh coffee. “You make it sound very mysterious.”
At that moment he takes a call, listening for a while and issuing the occasional terse instruction. As he puts down the phone, he smiles. “It’s meant to be. I’ve lined up some surprises for you. I’d hoped Simmons would be here to film everything. No matter, we’ll manage.”
“Film what?” Do Mel and Ben know about this? I’d better check with them as soon as I get downstairs.
“Nera’s arranged a couple of events to finish off the week. The Beat Fair takes place in the grounds all afternoon. The trainees will get a chance to show off their new skills and the professional Doms will stage some displays. Naturally we’ll be taking part. So I want you up here fit and ready by two at the latest.”
“We’ll what?” I set down my cup with a clatter. Coffee splashes a sticky brown puddle all over the spotless linen. “But we can’t—”
He eyes me calmly. “Oh yes, we can. You’re still in my service and you’ll fit in with my plans. Nera’s gone to a lot of trouble for you and your crazy friends. It’s the least you can do.”
“But—” My mind races with awful, terrifying images. I try again. “But if people see us together—”
His mouth gives an impatient twitch. “They’ll see us, sure. That’s rather the point of a display. But we’ll be fully masked. And we’re going out on a high. We’ll combine it with your last daytime session. We’re going to do a caning display.”
For a second the room seems to spin. I close my eyes briefly, indignation rising.
“I bet this is Nera’s idea. What exactly is her hold over you, Cade?”
His smile instantly fades. “We’re just helping out. And if you remember, you asked me to do this. I was all set to fly home.” Abruptly he rises to his feet. “I’ve got calls waiting. Get back here by two. Eat now. Skip lunch in case you throw up. And don’t be late.”
His tone is icy. Once more I’ve overstepped some mark drawn in imaginary sand. And I’m going to be publicly caned.
* * * *
Today it’s gloriously hot. Sunlight shimmers over the park. The pool’s already crowded.
I slip into a pale linen shift and matching sandals and set off to find the others. I need to check how much of this Jake’s going to miss so we can reclaim missing footage from Cade’s people.
Everywhere seems strange, transformed. Nera plans to go out with a bang.
In the great recept
ion rooms and hallways, decorations are speedily going up and some of the guests are in costume already, fantastical creations of straps and feathers, latex and studs. Many are already partying, and outside in the grounds a huge marquee has been put up, its walls scrolled up to reveal the rock band already setting up equipment and testing sound levels.
The tables inside are being laid out for the Midnight Fetish Feast announced on billboards at the entrance.
Nearby on the lawns a stage has been erected for the Beat Fair, and whipping posts, stocks and a spanking bench are already in place. Chairs are being placed in rows for the eager spectators, already crowding forward.
Across the lawns a giant screen partly hides the trees. Technicians in shorts and T-shirts are everywhere, hammering planks, laying cable. Excited guests are clustered round the pool and the lunch tables, mostly in masks.
Nera, her expression even sourer than usual, prowls about with a clipboard.
I spin round at a familiar voice.
“Tunis, hi. Hear about Jake? He’s run off with Sonja. He won’t be back for a week. What’ll we do?” Mel, startling in scarlet latex hot pants and thigh-high boots peers at me through thick black eye makeup. Her nails are painted a savage black, and a slender whip swings at her waist.
I sigh. “It’s under control, no thanks to you. I suppose you thought it was funny helping them bunk off. You might have got us all the sack with a stunt like that.”
I pause as Ben joins us. He’s strapped into in a black leather harness and loincloth.
He gives me a small, sheepish smile. “Heard about Jake?”
“Hi, Ben. Yes, I heard.” I smile in spite of myself. He looks so happy, such a change from his usual gloomy self. “And you’re a disgrace, both of you. But Jake’s not a problem. We’ve been offered some of the footage from the film crew you called in to stage the phony raid, including their star cameraman.”
“You fixed all that? That’s terrific.” Mel eyes me with new respect. “See, Ben? She also serves who merely stays in bed.” She winks at me. “Ben thinks you’re lazy. And we’ve already heard from Jake, by the way. They’re having a great time.” She rolls her eyes. “Jake and Sonja… Who knew?”
I grin. “You two, clearly. And hey, I love the costumes. So you’re both really into all this?”
“You think?” Mel eyes Ben hungrily. “We’ve had a fantastic week. Girl power’s taken on a whole new dimension. Come on, slave, I’m going to treat you to some lunch.” She moves away with Ben in tow and calls out to me over her shoulder. “We’re on after two. Cock and ball torture. Don’t miss it.”
* * * *
As I watch, the Beat Fair starts. A hapless sub is led onto the stage and tethered to a whipping post by a fearsome Domme who sets about her pert little bottom with a tawse.
The crowd gathers to watch, many bringing their lunch in handfuls from the loaded tables under the marquee. They cheer loudly when the sub is finally released.
She turns to face the crowd, blushing almost as brightly as her crimson rear. She takes a shy bow and is led away as another display is set up, this time with three participants, each taking turns to spank the other two.
I ought to go up. It must be nearly two, but it’s impossible to tear myself away. To my shame, the sight of the eager, pink subs, their submissive poses belied by their gleaming eyes and eager expressions, is as fascinating as the breathtaking skill of their tormentors.
I watch spellbound, feeling almost as guilty as I did during the Panther’s stunning display. I feel every blow.
After a week with Cade, I know just what the panting subs are going through. But it’s the first time I’ve seen it.
“Enjoying the show?” Cade’s deep voice, so close to my ear, makes me jump.
I clutch the rail in front of me, my knuckles white for a moment, then turn to look up at him. How long has he been standing there? I sense a distinct air of suppressed excitement. It fires my own. “Yes,” I whisper. “I’d no idea.”
I feel his hand on my back, moving slowly around my waist. I glance round nervously but everyone’s looking at the stage. “Good. I hoped you’d say something like that.”
I feel his touch on my hair, and his hand squeezes my left flank in an intimate, private gesture.
I lean back and murmur low so no one can hear. “Cade, why do I feel like this? Is there something wrong with me?”
He squeezes again, pressing against me like the crowd is accidentally pushing us up close. I can feel his erection through our clothes, hot against my back. “You’re just exploring your dark side. We rarely get the chance. How is that wrong? Some people would call it healthy. Me for one.”
For a few blissful seconds we’re clasped in a subtle but powerful embrace as I lean against him, reveling in his heat.
The three people on stage draw their act to a close and take a triumphant bow to a loud ripple of applause.
He murmurs against my ear, “Time to go. Ready to face your public?”
Chapter Eighteen
“We’re driving somewhere? I thought we had to go up to change?” I pause on the top step at the entrance to the Hall as the sleek car waits in the driveway below.
There’s no one around, only Mason, bulky and respectful, standing by the rear passenger door.
“We are. But not here. We’re going to the tower. Quick, get in before someone sees.” Cade hustles me down to the car and nods to Mason, who climbs into the driver’s seat and fires the engine. Cade pulls the door shut as the large car sets off, silent and swift.
I sit rigid. We’ve climbed the tower only once but that was at night. I had no clear view of the ground. It’s already a special place. He made love to me there for the first time. Echoes from our passionate encounter still pulse through me every time I think of it.
But now it’s different. It’s daytime.
I shudder. My dread of high places seems silly at times. At others it’s terribly real. He knows this. I hiss back at him, keeping my voice low so Mason won’t hear. “Why are you doing this? Just to get even?”
He eyes me sternly, one eyebrow faintly raised. “This is your last day. I warned you it held some surprises. You’re doing well, but you’ve tasted only mild submission—kneeling before sessions, routine restraint play. I need to test your commitment before you go on to the next stage. Maybe the quickest way is to make you face your fears.”
The next stage? He means next week. I’ll be his.
I feel a surge of excitement. His fee for my week’s training was just a form of words on my first day here. I consented lightly, with no idea what to expect. But now…
He’s strict, harsh even. I’m swept off my feet by his energy, his passion—and his utter dedication to detail. And he’s probably been going easy on me.
Suppose he lets rip?
He’s smiling. “Nervous?”
I swallow. “Like I’m on a cliff. I’m more scared of next week than I am of the next few hours.”
He takes my hand, a mysterious smile playing over his beautiful, sculpted mouth. “Very natural. It’ll be a big step for you. That’s why I have to make sure you’re ready.”
He lifts my hand and kisses my palm. His touch sends shimmers along my arm.
“Do you trust me, Tunis? I’d never knowingly hurt you. You must know that. Tell me honestly, have I ever taken you further than you really wanted to go?”
The car’s drawing to a halt at the foot of the tower. Before I can reply, Mason springs out of his seat and is already opening my door.
Cade smiles again and releases my hand. “Here we are. After you.”
The climb up the spiral stairs is long, and I try not to look out of the tiny windows that show the ground getting smaller the higher we go. As we reach the viewing chamber, my heart’s racing, not entirely from the climb.
And I’m still puzzled. “So we change up here then go back down to the stage?”
He strides about the room, shrugging off his jacket. He flings it onto o
ne of the flat seats under the broad windows.
In the distance Beat Hall looks festive and cheerful, colored pennants flying from all the turrets. Far below, the guests are milling in the grounds, bright dots among the endless green. From up here the stage looks like a toy, with tiny marionette figures on it.
I turn away from the windows, feeling sick. Instantly he turns me round to face a large screen set up in one of the octagonal bays. It shows Mel and Ben performing their act.
Cade puts an arm round my shoulders and holds me close. “Don’t look down. Keep your eyes on the screen.”
I stare spellbound at Ben, hooded and masked, twitching as Mel lays about him with a riding crop. The expression on her face is one of intense concentration. The expression on his is of utter, blissful content.
As I watch, gauze screens behind me lower to cover the windows, dimming the light and blurring the terrifying views. Now the strongest light in here comes from spotlights trained on what looks like a corner of a film set. It has a camera set up on a tripod, a white umbrella to diffuse the light and a wide patch of bright, rumpled satin heaped with a pile of matching cushions.
Cade lowers the sound. “This is our communications tower. We can pick up satellite signals and radio frequencies. And the security TV cover’s based here too.”
“Making you the ultimate control freak?”
“Making us the most secure venue for rock festivals in the country. That’s how we keep ahead of the market. Today we’re going to perform up here. Our every move will be relayed to the giant screen down there in the grounds.”
He gestures to the large screen, where Mel and Ben, their routine over, are now taking a bow. “At the same time it’ll play in here, so you can watch as we do it.”
I shudder. “Cade, I’m not sure I can do this.”
He takes me in his arms, his expression unreadable. “Hey, you’re a performer. We’re just putting on a show. Do you trust me, Tunis? Tell me.”