Party Favor

by Melinda Barron

  Jovina watched the other scenes and wanted to snort as they all giggled and screamed out to be screwed or whipped. They were pathetic, she thought. They wouldn’t be allowed in B- or C-grade porno films. She would be the star in an A-grade movie.

  Finally the scene was set for Mistress Martie. The subs rolled a St. Andrew’s cross into the room. But the cross wasn’t upright. It was horizontal.

  Mistress Martie stood; she wore a leather corset with a short shirt attached.

  “Strap her down,” Martie demanded of the subs who had brought the cross into the room. The three of them grabbed Jovina and, none too gently, lashed her to the leather cross.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jovina watched Martie wiggle out of her panties. Then she went to the wall and picked up a horse bat. Shorter than a crop, the horse bat had a long, flat leather tip at the end. Its slender body was hard rubber covered by leather. Jovina knew from experience it stung like the dickens.

  This would be good, she told herself. Remember to scream, make noise, make this a top-flight flick. She and Martie hadn’t set up a script. Instead, M had told her to play along with whatever came up.

  Jovina could do that.

  Martie took a step closer to the cross and snapped the bat near Jovina. The tip of it made a soft whooshing sound.

  “Well, look at my play toy, all decked out and ready to be whipped.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Your nipples are hard, slut, and I bet your cunt is soaking.”

  “For you, Ma’am.”

  “Yes, I know you’re mine, all of you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. That’s why I locked up your pussy, so no one could get to it but me.”

  “Thank you, Mistress, for claiming it.”

  “So sweet.” Martie stepped to the top of the cross, straddling Jovina’s face. The cross was low enough, though, so that she couldn’t reach her Mistress’s pussy. She stuck out her tongue and tried to reach it, crying out in frustration when she couldn’t.

  “Oh, poor baby can’t get her Mistress’s pussy. Do you want my pussy, Jo-Jo?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Jovina said, putting what she hoped was just the right amount of whine in her voice. “May I lick you, please? Please, Mistress?”

  “No.”

  “Please? Oh, please?” Jovina strained to lift her head from the cross, her tongue out in an effort to find her Mistress’s folds.

  In response, Martie slapped the bat against Jovina’s nipples, first one, then another. The sharp sting made Jovina cry out, and the game was on.

  Martie stayed where she was, her pussy just out of reach as she whipped Jovina’s breasts with the bat, slapping the nipples and the tender flesh. Jovina’s cries of pleasured pain mixed with her pleadings to taste her Mistress’s pussy.

  The murmurs of approval from those watching let Jovina know she was doing the right thing. Once Martie squatted just enough that Jovina got a hint of her pussy. She licked as hard as she could, getting one good swipe in before Martie pulled back. When M struck Jovina’s breasts again, the pain was harsher than before.

  “They’re nice and red,” Martie said as she stepped away. Jovina had hoped that she’d get one more taste, but she supposed it was too soon.

  “I think I’ll find a new target,” Martie said. She let the tip of the bat trace over whatever part of Jovina’s body was nearest.

  Playing her part, Jovina cried and pleaded more, actually enjoying herself.

  “Please, Mistress, claim my pussy,” she cried out just before Martie laid a harsh slash on Jovina’s pussy. The locks pressed into her skin as Martie whipped her, not letting up at all, the strikes fast and furious.

  Jovina’s cries increased, and she wiggled against the bat as Martie continued to put the leather tip against Jovina’s now aching cunt. She’d never been pussy whipped while her lips were locked together, and the pain of the leather and the metal was incredible. It sent shock waves of pleasure into her clit, and it took all her willpower not to come.

  Instead she concentrated on screaming, trying to use every dirty word she knew to keep with the theme of the two of them being in a porno movie.

  When Martie stopped whipping her, Jovina beseeched her to keep going.

  “No,” M said, her tone bored. “I have other things in mind right now. Get the swing.”

  Before she knew what was happening, hard male hands undid her bonds and pulled her from the cross. It was wheeled away, and a frame replaced it.

  “Get in the swing, slut,” Martie said as the subs bent Jovina over the wide leather seat. Her legs were attached to the frame, but her hands were left free. They dangled just enough for her to reach the floor with the tips of her fingers.

  Jovina felt as if she might take a tumble onto the floor, but she knew she couldn’t concentrate on that. She needed to remember to play her part, to talk dirty, and to beg to please her mistress.

  “What a lovely toy,” Martie said as she rubbed the bat across Jovina’s ass. “But I think this item won’t work to mark your ass the way I want. Don’t go anywhere,” she said with a laugh.

  The crowd joined in with her laughter, and Jovina kept her gaze trained on the floor as Martie walked over to the wall.

  “Yes, this crop will do,” she said as she walked back. She gave Jovina’s bottom a few test swats, and then she stopped testing and started spanking. The crop landed hard and fast on Jovina’s ass.

  Jovina was proud that she continued to play her part, pleading for more, thanking her Mistress for the harsh spanking. She knew that there would be welts on her ass, but she didn’t care.

  Submitting to Mistress Martie, even in a public scene like this, was an incredible experience.

  Her body ached all over after a while, and she begged to be let out of the swing.

  “Oh, little slut is sore?” Martie laughed. “That’s too fucking bad, slut, because I’m not done with you yet. Do you know from this position I can fuck your pussy without unlocking your rings?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. But please, Mistress, let me go first.”

  “No.” She gave Jovina five more hard swats, then snapped her fingers. She’d been standing between Jovina’s legs for the whipping, moving from side to side. Now she moved away, her hands caressing Jovina’s legs and thighs as she moved between her outstretched legs.

  “What can I do with your pussy, Jovina?”

  “Whatever you want, Mistress.” But please untie me first. Please.

  “Let’s see how you react to this.” Jovina heard footsteps, but she knew better than to look around.

  “Oh fuck!” she cried out as something very long and very, very cold slipped into her pussy. “No, Mistress, please, no!”

  “The glass cock’s been in the freezer all afternoon,” Martie responded as Jovina continued to voice her objections. She wiggled as hard as she could, and the frame moved.

  “Careful, slut, or you’ll end up on the floor. Hold still.”

  Martie had the cock fully inside Jovina now, and she wasn’t moving it. The cold glass made Jovina’s hot skin feel as if it would melt, the feeling not entirely pleasant, but not too painful.

  After a few moments she started to fuck Jovina, sliding it in and out of her wet pussy as Jovina begged for more. She stopped after a few moments.

  “Sir K, would you have your new toy attach weights to Jo-Jo’s nipple rings and her clit ring, please? Make sure to use the shorter chains so they don’t reach the floor.”

  Sir K snapped his fingers. “Do it.”

  Jovina focused on the cock sliding in and out of her pussy. Martie slipped it from her body as the new slut attached the weight to Jovina’s ring. It pulled on her clit as the woman let it out.

  “Oh fuck!” she cried out, keeping in character. She did the same when the nipple clamps were in place, and when Martie inserted the dildo again. Jovina was pretty sure it was a new one, because it was as cold as it had been at first, although she’d heard that glass cocks held both heat and
cold for a long time.

  Martie fucked her harder and faster, the weights pulling on Jovina’s sensitive spots as the glass prick moved in and out of her.

  Finally, when she thought she’d lose her voice from screaming for more, begging to please her Mistress, she felt a sharp tug on the chain attached to her clit. At some point, Martie had stopped fucking her, but Jovina hadn’t noticed, she was so far into pleasing her Mistress.

  “Come, slut,” Martie commanded, and Jovina soared.

  “Mistress, fuck me, let me suck you, let me serve you! Mistress!” A second orgasm slammed into her as Martie pulled harder on the chain. Just as the orgasm started to ebb, Martie let the chain go, then swatted the chain and sent the weight swinging.

  Jovina’s body trembled, and she tried to catch her breath. When Martie pulled on her hair so that Jovina’s neck bent backward, she gasped.

  “Eat my cunt, you little pussy lover.” Jovina had to strain to get herself into the perfect position, but she licked and nibbled as hard as she could. Mistress Martie’s whispered, “That’s it, lick that cunt, lick it good,” let her know she was hitting the right spots, though.

  When Martie pulled on her hair again, Jovina arched her tongue up as hard as she could. Martie took a step toward her, and Jovina sucked the Domme’s clit into her mouth.

  “Good girl!” Jovina felt Martie’s pussy tighten, and she licked and sucked harder. She wanted her Mistress to have the same, incredible pleasure Jovina had just experienced.

  Jovina nibbled on her clit, and Martie’s soft whimper of pleasure let Jovina know her Mistress had enjoyed every second.

  When Martie moved away, it was hard not to beg her to come back. The scene was over, though, and Jovina knew it couldn’t have been more perfect. The subs let her off the swing, and her knees almost gave out. She clasped the edge of the frame as she knelt in front of Mistress Martie.

  “Thank you, Ma’am, for letting me serve you.”

  “You’re welcome, my pet,” Martie said as she stroked Jovina’s hair. “It was most enjoyable.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” The room soon filled with noise, and Jovina got to her feet gingerly. She felt exhilarated and exhausted at the same time. Her pussy was still cold from the glass cock, and she could feel her ass throbbing from the cropping Mistress Martie had given her.

  They stayed in the room for about ten minutes, and then Martie said it was time for them to retire. When they were in Martie’s room, the Domme took Jovina’s face between her hands and kissed Jovina, softly and gently.

  “You were magnificent,” she whispered before she kissed her again. Jovina felt as if she might melt into her. Martie’s lips were soft and tasted sweet, and when her tongue sought entrance, Jovina opened her mouth and tilted her head just a little.

  When the kiss broke, Martie stroked her cheek. “Hold out your hand.”

  Jovina did as she asked. Martie placed a memory card in her hand. “Take this home with you and pick out the best photo. I want you to do a drawing of you eating my pussy. You’ll have one week to finish it, and then you’ll bring it to me here, in Santa Fe.”

  There was no way Jovina could hold back the smile that lit up her face. “Thank you, Mistress.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Jovina. Unless you can admit what you really are, then the drawing will be the only memory I have of our time together. If you can give yourself to me openly and freely, then we’ll talk about you being my permanent sub.”

  Her excitement disappeared. There was no way she could let her family know that she and Martie were together. But she didn’t say anything, because it would spoil the moment. Instead she smiled and promised herself that the drawing she did would be the most perfect one she’d ever produced.

  Chapter Seven

  Was it her imagination, or was there water on the road? Jovina blinked, felt wetness on her cheek, and knew that it wasn’t rain on the highway she was seeing, but tears filling her eyes. She gripped the wheel tighter. There was a rest stop not far ahead, and she could stop there, work out the sadness that filled her right now.

  She managed to keep things in check until she reached the stop. She’d just pulled over and put the car into park when the waterworks turned on full blast.

  Not only had she lost her best friend, she’d likely never have enough guts to tell her family what she wanted out of life.

  She was a lesbian, plain and simple. Being with Mistress Martie this weekend had made Jovina the happiest she’d been in ages. But that happiness had flown away the minute Jovina got in her car and left Santa Fe. There was nothing ahead but the same old, same old, where Jovina would dance around her family’s demands that she marry, and make occasional visits to Behold.

  Of course, there was a way around it. She could do as Martie suggested and admit to her family that she was a lesbian. An image of her father’s scowl fixed itself in her mind, and Jovina hiccupped as the tears fell faster.

  Why the hell was it so hard? Why couldn’t she just go up to her father and say, Dad, I’m in love with another woman.

  His answer would be clear. You are no daughter of mine. Leave and never come back.

  Could she do that? Her family was everything to her, even if she didn’t always agree with them. But if following their ideas made her unhappy, was it worth it? Wasn’t one of the main goals of life to be happy? If she lost Mistress Martie at the end of the week, Jovina would be devastated. The pain gripping her chest right now was proof of that. Finding a way to tell her family would be hard, but she could do it if Martie helped.

  This was something they’d need to discuss while Jovina was in Santa Fe this weekend. The Domme might have some ideas on how Jovina could break the news to her family.

  She sniffled a few times and took a deep breath as she fought to stop the tears. Finally, when they were done, she got up and went into the restroom. She washed her face, then patted a wet paper towel around her puffy eyes.

  Jovina had a week to figure things out. She hoped it was enough.

  * * * *

  Art had always been Jovina’s escape from the real world. It was a passion she’d discovered when she was twelve. She’d sketched family members and family pets, moving on to landscapes.

  Her work was pretty good, if she did say so herself. All her professors in college had praised her offerings, but she’d been too worried to try and get a showing. When her father had called her home, she’d buried her work in the closet of a spare bedroom of the house where she lived, one owned by her older brother, Robert.

  She had many paintings she’d done since she’d been home. When they were finished, she’d show them to a few of her sisters, who would tell her how good they were, and then she’d bury them with the rest.

  The sketch she worked on now, though, was the most important thing she’d ever done. There had been three different attempts until she’d settled on the one she was almost done with.

  In the first three, something had always been wrong. The pose was simple enough. M stood before her, her hands in Jovina’s hair. Jovina’s face was buried between the Domme’s thighs. It was the expression on M’s face that gave her fits. The first three times she hadn’t been satisfied.

  But this one was perfect, and it would be done by tomorrow, just in time for her to deliver it to Santa Fe for her scheduled weekend with M.

  Jovina’s body tingled in anticipation, even though she still had more than a day before she would see her Mistress. M’s words had weighed heavily on Jovina’s mind since she’d returned home.

  Each detail on the drawings was a reminder of M saying that Jovina had to admit to who she was. If this was going to be M’s final reminder of the time the two of them had spent together, Jovina wanted it to be perfect. Of course it could also be the first of many paintings that Jovina made of their life together. That idea cheered her.

  As she’d thought would happen, her family had bombarded her with questions about her time with Avery and about what they’d done. She’d been evasive,
telling them they’d stayed at Avery’s house, which was true, and played some games and eaten some food, also true.

  She didn’t go into details, because that was where the lies separated from the truth. It was a good thing they hadn’t pushed.

  But one thing had been made clear to her. Jovina had to come out into the open. She had to let her family know the real Jovina. She missed Martie so much that at times she felt as if she would burst into tears again. She was caught in the middle, between the family that she loved, even her overbearing father, and the woman whom she wanted to spend her life with.

  But who knew if Martie felt that way? Would she just want to keep Jovina around as a toy? Martie had made it seem like she’d want to try and make a go of it. She imagined herself living with Martie, making her meals, and yes, even having a garden where she could spend her hours growing vegetables and plants.

  Jovina closed her eyes and imagined a house in Santa Fe. She and Mistress Martie were in the backyard. Jovina was painting, and Martie was reading a book. After a few moments, Martie put down the book. She stood and moved behind Jovina. They started to discuss the painting, the colors, and the way the lines flowed. Martie asked Jovina about her inspiration for the subject, and Jovina told M it was the mountains near her home.

  That caused a little ripple in the dream. Jovina would miss the area around her home, the places she visited when she wanted to be alone, or when she wanted to take a sketchbook and find a new subject to paint.

  But it wasn’t as if she couldn’t come back and visit, bringing Martie with her.

  When they were older, they’d bring their children with them. Jovina opened her eyes.

  Jovina had always wanted children. Sure, she could adopt, or visit a sperm bank. Of the two, adoption seemed the better choice to her. She imagined herself with Martie and a small family. They would be happy together, taking vacations and talking about things openly. Jovina would not force her children to live the life she wanted for them. She would allow them to discover things on their own, decide what made them happy, and go for it.