by L. DuBois
The second belt was only a few inches wide, and twenty inches long. This one he wrapped around her neck, creating a thick collar. It wasn’t a posture collar, designed to keep her chin up, but its size meant that it would be uncomfortable if she lowered her chin too much.
Picking up the blindfold and ball gag, he decided to wait on those and give her the chance to see what was about to happen.
“Come with me, Mae.”
*****
Mae kept her gaze on Master Xavier’s shoulders as they passed through the halls and courtyards of Las Palmas. The surprised glances she’d endured this morning when the other members saw her marked ass and unusual attire—or lack thereof—was nothing compared to the looks they were getting now.
People actually stopped and stared when they saw Xavier coming with Mae one step behind him, naked except for the thick collar and breast binding.
The library was one of the public rooms of Las Palmas. It was always open, and anyone was welcome to spend time there. Dominants, Masters, and Owners could book the small circular stage for demonstrations or to use when putting their sub on display. There were bookcases along one wall, but instead of books, the lighted shelves displayed various BDSM equipment, some new, some antique. There was an L-shaped bar in one corner, with usually a submissive or two behind it playing bartender. Cocktail tables clustered near it were made of massive wine barrels supporting round glass tops. On the far side of the stage from the bar was a Spanish-style tiled fireplace. Plush rugs and floor cushions were folded and stacked in baskets on either side of the hearth, while several comfortable couches formed a half circle facing the empty fireplace. The tufted dark-leather couches with rounded backs and arms were all the perfect height to have someone bent over them.
The dining room was next door, and when they entered the library there were a few people at the pub tables with plates of food catered by a local restaurant. The occupants were an eclectic mix of people—ranging both in age and how they liked their BDSM. An African American Domme had her feet propped on the back of her submissive, who was on her hands and knees. Beside her an older Master sat with his sub cuddled against his side.
Before now Mae would no more have knelt to be used as a foot rest than she would have jumped off the roof. She didn’t judge people who chose that kind of submission, but she didn’t want it for herself. But now she found herself looking at the kneeling woman with greater understanding. She didn’t want to do it, but she understood it.
Xavier put a hand on her back and guided her over to the bar area. One of the tables had been taken apart, the wine barrel turned on its side and placed on braces. With the stabilizing pieces under it, the top of the barrel was at waist height.
Mae was experiencing a strange foreboding. Xavier stopped beside the barrel and patted the top. Mae laced her fingers together, looking nervously between him and the people at the nearby table, who were watching with obvious interest.
“No, Red. Look at me.”
She jerked her attention back to Xavier.
“Sit up on the barrel.”
She kept her gaze down, though she couldn’t lower her chin very much, as she backed up against the barrel and with a little jump sat on the curved top. Nerves were making her breathe hard, which made her more aware of the binding around her breasts, which in turn made her wet.
“Spread your legs, Mae.”
She whimpered, scared and frustrated. She wanted to be back in a private room with him. Though she had no problem being naked and played with in public, and had been up on the library stage several times as part of demonstrations, she doubted he’d brought her here to fuck her until they both passed out from pleasure, which is what she’d been hoping for.
Xavier fisted his hand in her hair. The instant he touched her she calmed, even as his tight hold made her scalp tingle. Mae spread her legs, tucking her heels along the edges of the barrel. Her desire to be fucked melted away in the heat of a different desire—the desire to submit, to be dominated.
“You should enjoy this, Mae. It’s time for ‘being serviced.’” Xavier released her hair. “I’m going to bind you to this barrel. Your pussy will be exposed and available for anyone who chooses to service you. You will be both blindfolded and gagged.”
Mae couldn’t stop the shudder of combined arousal and horror that shook her. “Anyone can touch me?”
“Yes, Mae. Nothing in your hard limits or checklist prevents that. You have your safe word, if you need it.” Xavier laid his hand on her thigh, fingers inches from her sex. “However, you have permission to come. That should please you.”
“It does, Master, but I—” I want to come because you’re touching me. I want you to be the one to release me from the prison of need you put me in. Mae wasn’t brave enough to say what she was thinking. She’d already made a fool of herself once this morning. He’d told her that he expected her to be good, be obedient, and she would be both. “Thank you, Master Xavier.”
He nodded once. “Lie back.”
Xavier positioned her so that she was on her back draped over the barrel. She grabbed each wrist with the opposite hand, letting her arms dangle.
“Bend your knees, spread your legs. I want everyone to have easy access to your pussy.”
With her legs bent, Xavier positioned her feet so they were on the very edges of the barrel. After a few other adjustments he crouched beside her. Mae lifted her head slightly so she wasn’t looking at him upside down.
“Now I’m going to bind you in place. I am not going to use safety restraints. I want you to experience true bondage.”
“Heavy bondage?” she asked, remembering that from the checklist.
Xavier’s lips kicked up into a devastating smile. “No. I wouldn’t call it heavy bondage. This one can count for light bondage. We’ll get to the heavy stuff, but you’re not ready yet.”
“Yes, Master.”
Xavier held up a handful of pale blue, flat rope. “This is nylon strapping. It’s the same weight and density of what’s used in shipping tie downs.” He took a small section and wrapped it around her already linked hands and wrists, leaving the tips of her fingers exposed. “I’m going to wrap it around each of your calves and thighs, just like this, then nail the strapping directly into the wood barrel. Do you understand?”
What she understood was that once he was done with her Mae wouldn’t be moving, wouldn’t be able to get away. She whimpered.
“Are you afraid or aroused?”
“Both, Master.”
“Good.”
A crowd gathered to watch as Xavier started weaving the strapping in a figure eight pattern around her thighs and ankles, starting at her thigh, then looping between her upper and lower leg to circle her calf, and crossing back to again wind around her thigh. When her legs were encased from mid-thigh to hip, and mid-calf to ankle, Xavier tied off the strapping with a simple knot, then nailed the trailing ends into the barrel. Mae jumped at the first ringing sound of hammer striking nail, and the barrel vibrated under her with each blow. She raised her head when he was done, looking at the elaborate bindings, which were expertly done, creating almost a woven pattern. With her legs spread the whole width of the barrel, her pussy was on complete display.
Master Xavier was examining her—bound and vulnerable, body exposed and accessible. He traced the outer lips of her sex, his eyes seeming to gleam behind the mask. The sight of him calmed her even as it heightened her arousal.
“How do you feel, Mae?”
“Scared, Master.”
He pinched the lips of her sex together and rubbed them over her clit. “Is that all?”
“No, Master,” she gasped. It was as if every nerve end in her pussy were extra sensitive. For one wild moment she thought she’d come from that simple touch alone.
“Are you ready to be serviced?”
“No, Master.” She didn’t think, just answered.
“No?” Xavier released her pussy lips and Mae whimpered. “Explain.”
>
She bit her lip. It would be easy to say that she hadn’t meant “no,” that she’d been confused or not really paying attention. If she did that the scene would continue. It was a white lie, meant to make life easy. If it had been any other Dom, any other situation, she would have done it without thinking. Instead she took a deep breath. “I don’t want them to touch me.”
“Are you refusing to complete the checklist item?”
Tears of frustration stung Mae’s eyes. She wanted to explain what she was feeling, wanted to express the conflicting desires that roared through her, but she didn’t know how.
“Master Xavier, if I may offer my assistance?” Master Anderson rose in one elegant motion, his slightly accented voice not nearly as compelling as Xavier’s, but containing the same easy confidence. He was a man who knew that when he spoke others would listen. The submissive kneeling beside his chair watched him with hungry, haunted eyes. He wore a stark black suit, with a white shirt open at the throat. His pale skin, dark hair and eyes so blue they seemed black completed the picture of a stark, debonair man.
“I do not need assistance.” Xavier’s voice was deeper than normal. He watched the other Master.
“Of course not, but I think perhaps I might know what your sub is trying to say.”
Master Anderson had a reputation, but unlike Xavier he was not known for hard physical play. Anyone who subbed for him had to be willing to let him in, not only to their body, but to their mind. Mae had seen subs break down sobbing from the emotional intensity of spending time with him. The Dom slipped his hand under her head, lifting it slightly. When he touched her, Xavier took a half step toward the other man, as if he were going to shove him back.
“Your name is Mae?”
Mae looked at Master Xavier. He didn’t intervene, so she answered, “Yes, Sir.”
“You’re desperate to come, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“But you don’t just want to come. You want your Master, and only him, to be the one to make you orgasm.”
Mae looked at Master Anderson, shocked that he’d so precisely put words to her feelings. “How did you—”
He laid one finger over her lips. “I did not invite comment. You will answer my question. Is your reluctance due to your desire to have your Master be the one to experience the gift of your pleasure?”
The way the other Dom phrased it kept it from sounding like her desire was another instance of her trying to top from the bottom. Mae looked at Master Xavier. “Yes, Sir. That’s it exactly.”
“Your Master wants you to be serviced by anyone who walks into the room. And what does that mean?”
Now Mae looked away from Xavier, staring at the ceiling. “I am Master Xavier’s to do with as he pleases.”
The other Dom lowered her head, his gold signet-style ring, embossed with a triangular Celtic symbol, catching the light. Mae blew out a long breath. She was relieved that she’d had a chance to express what she was feeling, and glad Master Anderson had reminded her of her place.
Some romantic part of her hoped that Xavier would be so moved that he’d undo the bindings, sweep her into his arms and carry her away to fuck her in privacy. He didn’t, and she hadn’t really thought he would. If he were the kind of Dom who’d do that, she wouldn’t care so much, wouldn’t feel the things she was feeling.
The heavy blindfold slid into place over her eyes. Her tension ratcheted up a notch, and without being able to see she had the strangest sense that she was falling off the barrel. Xavier pressed something soft between the tips of her fingers and her forearm. “I’m going to gag you. This takes the place of your safe word. Release the cloth and I’ll remove the gag so we can speak. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.” Something brushed her cheek and Mae could smell the rubber of the ball gag. She twisted her head to the side, sudden panic taking hold of her. “Please, no.”
“I want you to open your mouth, Red.”
Mae’s lips trembled as she fought to push aside her fear and let her submissiveness rise up.
Xavier kissed her.
He cradled her head as his lips pressed over hers. The kiss felt odd, because she was upside down, but then he nipped her lower lip before pressing his tongue into her mouth. Her mind went quiet even as her body flushed with desire. When he pulled back, Mae parted her lips, ready for the gag.
“I could order that you don’t come.” He traced her lower lip with his thumb. “They would still touch you, play with you, but your orgasm would still be mine.”
His. There’d be no relief for this intense ache that consumed her, but he would own another little piece of her.
“If it would please you, Master.”
She heard him take a deep breath. “You are so much more than you seem. A man could spend a lifetime exploring your submission.”
Mae’s heart thumped.
“And I regret that I cannot be that man.” The words were so low she could barely hear them, and before she had time to process what he’d said, Xavier pinched her chin, forced her mouth open, and pressed the ball gag into place.
She wanted to ask him what he meant by that. Wanted to push back against the implied idea that it was his choice alone whether he became a permanent part of her life, and remind him that he was only her Dom for the game—even if inside she was starting to feel like the parts of her Xavier owned she might never get back.
She struggled against the gag, trying to spit it out. Xavier cupped her jaw, forcing her to bite down on it. Mae’s struggle was short lived. When she stilled, Xavier buckled the straps behind her head, then tugged lightly on the safe word cloth, reminding her it was there.
Chapter Seven
Xavier examined his handiwork. It was one of his better setups, and yet he felt slightly ill at the thought of actually stepping back and letting everyone touch her.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
The word was a mantra in his mind. In less than a day Mae had invaded his mind and soul, making him want things he couldn’t have. The more submission she gave, the more drawn to her he was.
He needed to see others touching her, needed the emotional distance it would provide. She could use her safe word—if she did he’d end the scene, rather than just halting it—but he had a sinking feeling that she wouldn’t. Mae had yet to back down from a challenge.
Her pussy was lovely—wet and pink, begging to be pleasured. For someone like Mae, who wasn’t used to scenes that didn’t include sexual fulfillment, the past twenty hours must have been torture. He had no doubt that she was more than ready to come, no matter who it was who touched her.
Still her admission that she would rather continue to be denied pleasure and wait for his touch was like gasoline thrown on the fire of his desire for her.
Xavier laid his hand on her stomach. She tensed, then relaxed, almost as if she’d realized who was touching her.
That was the last straw. Xavier stepped away, leaving her alone and exposed in her bindings. He looked at the crowd of fifteen or so people who had gathered.
“Mae is available for you to enjoy. Fingers and mouths only. No fucking.” Mae made a strangled sound behind the gag. Xavier raised his voice, making sure everyone heard him. “She is not allowed to come.”
Several people chuckled. “What happens if she does come?” someone called out.
“If she orgasms then the breast whipping she has coming will be much more severe.” He put menace in the words, wanting to scare Mae, giving her the fear as a tool to help control her body’s reaction to what was about to happen.
She moaned, her hips lifting slightly.
Then again, if she was, as he suspected, deeply masochistic, the idea of a severe breast whipping might only arouse her further.
Several people stepped forward. When the Dom who’d helped Mae admit her desires pulled up a chair, positioning it so he could sit while playing with her pussy, Xavier tapped him on the shoulder. He smiled knowingly and silently gave up his seat.
Planting his hands on the barrel, he leaned forward and blew across her wet pussy lips, letting her know someone was there.
Mae was breathing heavily through her nose, and he watched her pussy clench. Xavier used two fingers to further part her outer labia. Her vagina was lovely, the soft folds swollen with arousal, begging to be touched and fucked.
Xavier doubted she’d be able to keep from coming. The mind could not always control the body, but he knew she’d fight the orgasm in an effort to obey. She’d fail, but he wanted to be the one to cause that failure. He wanted to feel her struggle for obedience.
Smiling, Xavier lowered his mouth to her clit.
*****
No. No. No.
Mae whimpered into the hated gag as fingers opened her pussy. She was doing her best to ignore the person kissing the sensitive skin of her neck and the cold brush of ice over her stomach, but she wouldn’t be able to ignore direct stimulation of her sex.
Something soft brushed her clit, the barest touch. She jumped, a spike of pleasure lancing through her. Clenching her belly muscles, she braced herself to try to stop from coming.
Another soft flick of her clit, and now a finger was stroking her inner labia in a smooth rhythm. Maybe if it continued like this she’d be able to fight it.
Lips pressed over her, a tongue stroked her clit, and Mae almost came.
Jerking her hips up, she sucked air in through her nose, gasping at the sudden, sharp pleasure. She’d moved enough to dislodge the person’s mouth, giving her a chance to regain control.
The reprieve from stimulation was brief. As soon as her ass hit the barrel the tongue was back on her clit. Again she tried to lift her hips and break contact, but didn’t have the leverage to hold the position for long. The hand running ice over her stomach applied pressure, keeping her in place.