by Livia Grant
Chapter 4
Harley
Holy mother of God that one hurt.
Harley had been lulled by the previous thuddy flogger so when the explosion of pain consumed her ass, she’d screamed. Now that the pain was fading, she was a bit embarrassed, and that only got worse when Master Craftsman kneeled next to her head, lifting her by her hair. The concern she saw in his eyes seemed a bit over the top.
“That wasn’t you, right?” he asked as he brushed a few stray hairs away from her face.
Surely, he wasn’t this freaked out by a submissive crying out while at Black Light?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scream. It just surprised me is all.”
A commotion not far away had gotten louder. She couldn’t see from her prone position, but it made her curious what was going on behind her. As if he’d heard her, her Dom for the night looked out across the club for a few long seconds before looking back down at her with relief.
“It was someone else,” he said simply.
“What was someone else?”
“That called red. I thought… I heard it and thought I’d really hurt you.”
Things were starting to make more sense. She wished she could reach out to reassure him, but in her current position, she had to rely on her words.
“I’m not even close to red, Sir. In fact, I’m bright green.”
“Maybe, but I do think something might be wrong.” He paused, a smile finally playing at his sexy lips. “You just called me Sir without prompting.”
Harley loved his playful teasing. The last few times she’d scened at Black Light she’d played with Doms that really took themselves and their control way too seriously, bringing back unwanted memories from her past. That kind of dominance may be what some submissives craved, but she’d spent enough time analyzing her own desires to have discovered that at the end of the day, she came to Black Light to play. And to her play meant having some fun along with getting her sexual itch scratched.
“I wouldn’t get used to it if I were you. It was just a moment of weakness on my part,” she teased.
He chuckled before adding, “We’ll see about that, won’t we? Still, let’s have a bit of a reminder. What is your safe word, sub?”
“I won’t need…”
“Safe word?”
“Red… Sir. Yellow to slow down. But I promise I won’t need them.”
“I sure as hell hope not, but just know that I love to hear my subbie cry out. There’s an added bonus if you break into tears that will smear this make-up you have on,” he added, stroking her face with the pad of his thumb. The slight callous brought back the memory of how she’d stuck her foot in her mouth earlier by criticizing his design of Black Light.
She didn’t have time to worry about the awkwardness because he lowered her head and resumed his position behind her.
Harley prepared as best as she could for the coming strike, but it felt different—harder—than any flogger she’d ever felt. “Oh shit!”
“That’s ‘oh shit, Sir.’ Let’s see if I can help you remember, shall we?”
She took a few cleansing breaths while she waited for the next lash. She both loved and hated this part of being a submissive. Her brain was still fighting for control, but her body wanted to take over—to turn the pain into pleasure.
The whizzing sound of the coming swat hit her ears just before the pain sliced through her brain first, and then settled into the fiery burning on her ass.
After she caught her breath, she complained, “I thought we rolled a flogger!”
The whisper of the coming strike arrived in just enough time to have her clench her ass to prepare for the blow. It didn’t help. It hurt like hell.
“What word did you forget, little girl?”
“Sir!”
Strike.
Harley struggled against the restraints holding her in place, wanting to rub away some of the pain on her ass, but it was no use. She wouldn’t be going anywhere until Daddy told her she could. That knowledge helped her finally sink into her submission.
After the next lash across her sit spot and down on her thighs, she realized how short of breath she was. Harley gasped for air as she felt a warm palm lightly massaging her punished ass. The contrasting softness of his touch soothed the sharp lines of pain until his touch was gone, replaced with more fire.
“This can’t be a flogger, Sir!” she argued, more afraid of getting disqualified than the pain.
His low, rich laughter warmed her insides like the implement had her skin. His deep voice bellowed out a question for the spectators. “Can you all help me out? My submissive doesn’t believe me. What kind of implement am I holding?”
A shouted chorus of ‘flogger’ came from several different directions.
The next few strikes pushed her deeper into her submission, making it easier to tune out the sounds around her and just focus on the pain—on the intimacy and trust growing between her dominant for the evening—on the warmth blossoming at her core, preparing to boil over into a much-needed orgasm.
Every few strokes, Daddy would stop and inspect his handiwork. She felt his calloused hands lightly massaging her ass and thighs where he’d been paying the most attention to with that flogger of his. While the massaging felt wonderful, when his fingers strayed to her inner thigh before inching upward until they connected with wetness, she was in heaven.
So close. The pressure was too light. The location of his fingers was a few centimeters off her bullseye. Harley did her best to wiggle enough to get her clit lined up with his probing digits, but all that did was earn her a spank to her already punished asscheek.
“Be a good girl. You haven’t earned getting that clitty of yours stroked yet. Maybe later, but we aren’t done yet, sub. In fact…” His voice trailed off.
Like before, she sensed him kneeling next to her just before he lifted her head by yanking her ponytail hard enough to pull at her skull.
She’d forgotten how handsome he was when his face came into view. His salt-and-pepper touches in his short beard and hair gave him an air of maturity that was absolutely yummy. There was a new layer of lust in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier, and she was glad to know he was enjoying their first scene as much as she was.
Using the pad of his thumb, Daddy swished at a stray tear that had escaped during her flogging. The next thing she knew he was pulling an old-fashioned hankie out of his back pocket and holding it up to her nose.
“Blow for me,” he ordered.
She complied, appreciative of his care. She knew it was rude to compare dominants, but it was impossible not to. A couple of the hardcore Doms she’d played with acted as if small acts of kindness like this were weak. And to be honest, a lot of submissives craved the rougher treatment—the hardcore dominance.
She wasn’t one of them.
“Let’s play a bit of a game, shall we?” he asked her.
Harley smiled before answering. “I thought roulette was a game.”
“True… but this one is for our flogging scene. You want an orgasm, yes?” he inquired.
She teased back, “Does L.A. have smog?”
Chuckling, he reached out to shove a six-inch long wooden rod between her lips sideways while instructing her, “Bite down, Brat.” He’d effectively put a horse’s bit into her mouth, although she was relieved there were no ties to keep it in her mouth.
Unable to talk any longer, he continued. “I’m going to give you a chance to earn that pleasure you want so desperately. Hold the bit in your mouth until I finish flogging you, and then if you call me ‘Sir’ at the end when I take it out, you’ll get that orgasm. Drop the wood from your mouth before I take it out and you’ll be leaving this station to go back to the roulette wheel one horny little girl.”
Her ‘shit’ came out a mumbled gargle, but she successfully kept the wood between her teeth, thank goodness.
Then he was gone again, lowering her head by her hair until all she could see was the under
side of the spanking bench and the floor.
Strike. Strike. Strike. Three hard connections with the harsh flogger made her ass feel like a pack of bees was attacking her. The strands of the flogger themselves may not be very hard or punishing, but whatever those small things attached to it were bit into her flesh like a bee taking a bite out of her hide.
Her Dom worked her body like a pro. Hard and soft. Fast and slow. She never knew what to expect. As the minutes passed, she sensed herself falling deeper, closer to that elusive place all submissives chased—subspace. The ache in her jaw and copious spittle spilling to the floor from her held-open mouth added to her feeling of surrender.
So close. Strike. More. Strike, strike. Please.
“Shit!” her scream coincided with the thud of the wooden gag falling to the floor and the explosion of pain in her pussy where Daddy’s flogger had just connected with her most delicate lady parts.
“What a shame. You were so close to earning that orgasm, too,” he teased.
Still panting she acknowledged she’d lost this round with a disappointed, “Yes, Sir.”
Frustration at being so close to coming only to have her pleasure stolen pulled a low growl from her just as he lifted her head again to look down on her.
His eyes looked a shade darker and his voice even deeper as he growled, “So beautiful. Those tears are precious to me.” Pausing, he then asked an unexpected question. “What are your four hard limits tonight, Brat?”
In her confused state, his question didn’t make sense. They’d rolled flogging.
When she didn’t answer quickly enough, he barked, “Tell me. Now.”
Her brain worked to focus on the sign-up process, remembering how she’d had way more kinks she’d wanted to put on her limits list than there were slots available.
“Watersports.” That one was easy. A few seconds later she added, “Blood Play, Knife Play… and…” It took another ten long seconds to come up with her fourth one. “ABDL.”
He chuckled. “The Brat doesn’t want to be diapered? Got it. That’s a fine list, and since I did say that I’d deliver an orgasm, and you missed out on your chance, I think it’s only fair that since you blew it, I get to come instead.”
Would he fuck her while tied down and immobile? Christ, she hoped so. It was one of her favorite ways to get fucked in the whole world.
She had to give up thinking about it when he stood and started pulling her hair harder until her neck was straining to hold her head up. Without any way of seeing what he was up to, she had to guess that he was tying her long ponytail to the buckle of the cinch at her waist as she could feel him fussing around there.
When he’d finished, he stepped in front of the bench, his waist at the same level as her now-visible face. Harley had a front row seat to the striptease happening a few inches in front of her as Daddy unbuckled his dark suit pants before unzipping them. The outline of his erect cock was already visible straining against the front of his boxer briefs.
Harley licked her lips self-consciously, anxiously awaiting her first glimpse of her Dom’s package, hoping to become even more intimately introduced to it soon. Reaching in with his left hand, Daddy cupped his erection, lifting the heavy shaft out as he finished pressing his pants low enough to set his cock free, lightly stroking himself several times until she caught the glimpse of wetness escaping the tip.
Even though she’d been hoping he’d take his place at the other end of the bench, Master Craftsman took two steps closer, commanding, “Open wide, Brat,” just as she felt the moisture swish across her lips.
Anxious to please him, Harley complied, opening her mouth as wide as she could just as she tasted his hardness moving over her tongue. Within a few strokes, he was already thrusting deep enough to touch the back of her throat, dragging embarrassing choking sounds from her neck. His length was impressive, although she was relieved his penis wasn’t as fat as her ex’s as she’d never been able to accommodate his girth in her mouth.
Get the hell out of my head. I don’t want to think about anyone else but Daddy right now.
The shaft in her mouth grew harder as he started to properly fuck her mouth, gratefully stopping his thrusts long enough to give her gasping breaths every so often. She felt heat rising in her cheeks from the lack of oxygen and the sexy sight they made for the cheering crowd around them.
His fingers wove through her hair, yanking some of the long strands out of the ponytail as he grasped her head for better leverage while he chased his own pleasure. Harley felt a surge of excitement at bringing her Dom for the night enough pleasure to cause the sexy-as-hell growls he was emanating each time the tip of his cock jammed against the back of her throat. She turned herself over to the passion when the face fucking turned harder.
“Eyes,” he barked as she was getting lightheaded.
It took a second to comply, and when she did the power staring back at her almost did her in. Master Craftsman’s jaw was locked, his eyes full of an intensity that made her feel like they were the only two people on the planet in that moment.
“Yesss,” he growled as the first spurt of cum went down her throat and his cock twitched in her mouth, shooting a second and third spurt that promptly spilled out around her lips, dropping globs of white jizz to the floor below.
Between her tearing eyes, running nose, and dripping cum, she had to look like a hot mess.
Despite that, he stroked her cheek gently, adding, “Beautiful. Now let’s get you untied so I can get things cleaned up. We need to get you cooled-down and then go give the wheel another turn.”
Chapter 5
Geo
Geo was a bit wobbly on his feet after one of the best orgasms he’d had in… well it had been too long. Sure her mouth on his shaft had felt great, but it had been her looking up into his eyes, his cock spreading her mouth obscenely wide while her tears smeared mascara down her face.
That just might be my kryptonite.
One of the dungeon monitors came up to help him get the scene cleaned up. George focused on unbuckling Brat and helping her to her feet while the DM picked up the discarded implements and grabbed the disinfectant wipes to start cleaning the bench and floor.
To his brat, he commanded, “Stay,” as he leaned her against the bench for stability. To the DM, he added, “Thanks, man. I really appreciate the help.”
“No problem. It was a great scene. I’ll finish cleaning up here. You can go grab your stuff and help your sub cool down.”
Geo didn’t have to be told twice. He was anxious to find an out of the way place where they could sit and wind down from their first scene before going to roll the wheel again. He picked up the pile of her clothes and boots, shoving them into his toy bag along with the first floggers he’d used. He had to glance around the stage to find the last device he’d thrown aside when Brat had dropped the wooden bit to the floor.
“Can I see that?” she asked as he moved to add it to the bag. He offered it and she took it, holding the implement in her hand, caressing the knots covered in metal. “Tricky. I’ve never seen a flogger like this.”
“What’d you think of it? Would you be game to try it again?” Only after he finished his question did he realize the implications of the question. They had signed up for three hours. They had already rolled flogging which meant he was insinuating they might play with it on another night.
The spark in her eyes as she glanced up from the implement with a smile on her face told him she’d realized the same thing. He held his breath. The night was young. They barely knew each other.
“I’d totally try it again, but next time I’m the one who gets to come… Sir.”
“We’ll just have to see about that, won’t we,” he teased, relieved with her answer.
Geo led her down the steps, parting the crowd of onlookers waiting to see what the next scene might be on the platform. He led them straight ahead to the line of cool down rooms, but unfortunately, all of them were already in use, which made sense s
ince other couples would be wrapping up their roll too and moving on to the next.
Knowing the club as well as he did, he headed in the direction of the pool, looking for the out of the way bench along the back wall. Not everyone knew it was there as you had to weave around some floor-to-ceiling marble columns to find it.
His hunch had been right, the area was empty. Placing the duffle bag on the floor at the end of the bench, Geo took a seat first. Brat moved to sit next to him, but he pulled her down into his lap at the last second.
“There’s no cushion and since you’re still naked, I don’t want you to get chilled.”
“We can solve that by letting me get dressed again,” she sassed.
“Oh yeah, because those hot pants will really keep you warm. Not to mention, what a waste of time that would be since you’ll only need to take them off again for the next scene.”
“You don’t know that. We could roll…”
Geo waited to see what kink she would come up with that might involve putting more clothes on than less. She obviously remained silent.
“Exactly,” he added, leaning down and pulling out a luke-warm bottle of water and a chocolate bar. “Here, you should drink. I don’t want you dehydrated. And have some chocolate.”
“But I never even hit subspace.”
“Yet. I want some calories and water in you.”
“How do you even know I like chocolate?” she asked with humor dancing in her eyes.
“Just a hunch. And it’s Valentine’s Day. Don’t all women want chocolate on Valentine’s Day?”
“I’m not most women… although I won’t pass up sweets.”
“I didn’t think so.” He paused before adding his real motive. “And anyway, I want us to have a few minutes to chat.”
“Chat away,” she said, more than happy to snap off a few squares of the bar and pop them into her mouth. Her unadulterated groan of delight sounded suspiciously like her sexual groan when he’d grazed her clit.
“So, you’ve already answered my unasked question,” he teased, and she looked up at him, her cornflower blue eyes shining in the pool’s lighting. “You obviously love chocolate.”