Her mini-striptease had the desired effect. The naked yearning in the shackled man’s face made Stephen grin. His own imprisoned erection throbbed, mirroring the sub’s urgency.
“No, no, that’s just her nickname. No one would dare call Maya that to her face. But you can see where it comes from.”
Stephen inclined his head in silent assent, watching as the kinky scene continued to unfold.
The black-maned beauty stepped closer to her bound victim and fondled his cock. The man writhed against the padded horse. “You’re such a pain slut, James. I imagine you want me to use the cane now, don’t you?” Her voice was a low alto, smooth and warm as single-malt Scotch.
The man’s straw-coloured locks fell into his eyes as he gave a vigorous nod. She swept them back from his brow and captured his gaze. “Are you certain you can take it?”
Another nod. Stephen realised he was holding his breath. He forced himself to exhale.
“Very well. You do know better than to come, correct? You wouldn’t want to make me angry.”
Stephen found it difficult to picture what Maya would look like angry. Emotion scarcely seemed to touch her.
“And if it’s too much, squeeze the rubber duck. Squeeze it now, so I’ll know you understand.”
A cartoonish squawk filled the public dungeon. Laughter rippled through the audience, easing the tension a bit. Most of the other tops in the cavernous space had halted their own scenes to admire Mistress Maya’s proficiency, leaving their subs to gape from a distance.
“Good boy. Hold on tight, now.”
The sub clasped the bath toy in his right hand.
“I’ll be right back.” Maya stalked over to the equipment rack on sturdy heels that added at least three inches to her already significant height. Acting as if she were unaware of the eyes following her, she selected a slender fibreglass cane and whisked it through the air. The sub cringed at the vicious sound.
“Let’s see if we can satisfy your desire for pain, shall we?”
She stood well away from the bench, pulled her arm back, then brought the flexible rod down on the man’s already battered rear cheeks. Thwack! A bright scarlet line appeared, blazing against the dull redness generated by the flogging. The sub grunted behind his gag. More blood rushed to Stephen’s cock.
Whoosh! Thwack! The cane landed again. The sub keened and writhed, straining against the cuffs that bound his wrists and ankles to the bench. Thwack! Thwack! Maya wielded the cane with the same confident skill she’d shown with the whip. Every stroke made contact exactly where she intended, if one could judge from the marks spaced regularly across the victim’s ass and down the backs of his thighs.
Stephen found himself anticipating each blow, guessing when she’d strike, where and how hard. He’d rarely seen such an expert caning. She knew when to apply the cane in a rapid flurry of cuts, when to wait and let the bottom recover. Not once did a wayward blow hit the danger area near the kidneys. The stripes she raised created an exquisite grid across the sub’s punished flesh, almost perfectly regular.
He understood the high she must be feeling, the sense of power at having someone willingly place himself at her mercy. Yet little of that showed in her countenance. The cane slashed through the air and bit into the blond’s flesh, faster and harder as the scene progressed. A slight sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead, but otherwise Maya appeared as composed and focused as if she were balancing her cheque book.
The caning was fierce—it must have been excruciating. The sub had long ceased to struggle, though the force of Maya’s blows still made his body quiver. Stephen dragged his eyes from Maya’s virtuoso performance to check her victim’s face. The man’s eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. Despite the gag that stretched his mouth, he looked incredibly peaceful.
He’s had enough, Stephen thought. Apparently Maya reached the same conclusion at the same moment. She crouched beside the submissive, set the cane on the floor, and unbuckled the gag.
“James,” she murmured. “Come back, James. It’s all over. You did very well. You pleased me.” She unfastened the cuffs as she spoke, chafing the man’s wrists, brushing that unruly hair out of his eyes. “Are you all right?”
Even from fifteen feet away, Stephen could see devotion lighting up the man’s face. Vicariously, he found that intoxicating. “Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.”
“Can you stand?” Maya supported the submissive, trying to help him to his feet. Instead, he sank to his knees and pressed his lips to the polished toe of her shoe.
“Let me serve you, Mistress. Please, allow me to give you pleasure.”
Annoyance flickered in the Domme’s eyes. “No, James. The scene is over. You may go to the lavatory and make yourself come, if you wish.”
“No, please—I beg you. You said that I’ve pleased you, but I want to do more. Let me taste you.”
Anger, fear, doubt and desire chased each other across Maya’s lovely features in quick succession. Stephen read her emotions—it was all the easier after her previous impassivity—but he didn’t understand them. She gazed down at the man who grovelled before her as if she wanted him to disappear.
Most of the crowd had returned to their own spankings and whippings when Maya released her victim, but Stephen continued to watch in fascination as her feelings waged war with one another. Finally she shrugged.
“Very well. But be quick about it.”
She sank into a nearby bondage chair and hiked up her skirt. Stephen’s cock leapt when he saw that she wore nothing underneath. Spreading her thighs, she crooked her finger at poor James, who crawled to her feet, awkward and eager, his plug bulging between his battered butt cheeks.
Maya’s lewd position revealed the copious moisture coating her rosy folds. So she was aroused after all! The realisation thrilled Stephen, almost as if he’d played some role in inducing that state. Her swollen clit peeked out through her trimmed thicket of jet-black pubic curls. Stephen licked his lips. The ache in his groin was nearly unbearable.
James, the sub, hesitated, ensconced between those smooth, muscular thighs. He gazed up at his mistress, seeking permission to begin.
“Get on with it!”
The submissive needed no further encouragement. Clasping his hands in the small of his back as if they were bound, he leant forward to bury his face in Maya’s muff.
The dominatrix closed her eyes, gripping the arms of the chair. Her thigh muscles tensed as she strained for satisfaction, arching her back to grind her clit against the sub’s nose. James slurped and lapped at her pussy, coming up every now and then for air, then diving back into her depths. Their corner of the dungeon began to smell like a beach at low tide.
Stephen couldn’t look away. He watched the blood leave Maya’s knuckles as she clutched the chair more tightly. She needs to be cuffed. She’s trying too hard. The thought hit him out of nowhere, but something told him it was true. She can’t let go. His Dom radar on high gain, he noticed the flush climbing across her breasts, the way her breath came quick and shallow. James became more energetic, obviously determined to bring his mistress to climax. Her legs trembled. A visible pulse beat in her temple. But she didn’t climax.
“Enough!” She forced the sub away from her with the sole of her foot. He tumbled backwards, with a hard landing that must have forced the plug deep into his ass, if his gasp was any indication. Her blazing eyes silenced his protest. “Come,” she commanded, flicking her toe against his drooling cock.
A white fountain spurted from James’ groin. Stephen’s balls tightened in sympathy, but he managed to control himself. Maya snatched her shoes out of the path of James’ eruption. She waited till the torrent had subsided and the burly man had collapsed on the floor, exhausted. Then she rose and patted his head.
“Good boy. You did well tonight. Maybe I’ll see you next week.” She stalked out of the dungeon towards the locker room while her devotee was still mumbling his thanks.
“Whew! That woman reall
y knows what she’s doing!”
Dazed with lust, Stephen had totally forgotten Tom’s presence.
“What? Oh—yeah, you’re right. She’s incredible.”
“But untouchable, or so I’ve been told. Doesn’t want to get close to anyone. I know half a dozen subs—men, and women, too—who’d do anything to wear her collar. She’s just not interested.”
“Hmm.” Stephen gazed down the corridor where Maya had disappeared. Could he catch up with her? “Well, you know what they say. Different strokes and all…”
A hearty chuckle shook Tom’s bearish frame. “Right! Speaking of strokes, Master Shark, there’s a sweet young thing waiting in the ‘schoolroom’ who’s dying to meet the sexy new Dom from San Francisco…”
Sweet and young wasn’t really what Stephen wanted, just then. No, he had a powerful desire for something tangier and more mature. He clapped his old friend on the shoulder. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. There’s something I’ve got to do first.”
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About the Author
I became addicted to words at an early age. I began reading when I was four. I wrote my first story at five years old and my first poem at seven. Since then, I’ve written plays, tutorials, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred-page dissertation and, of course, erotica. I’m the author of four erotic novels and two short story collections. I also edited the groundbreaking anthology Sacred Exchange, which explores the spiritual aspects of BDSM relationships, and the massive collection Cream: The Best of the Erotic Readers and Writers Association. My short stories have appeared in more than two dozen print collections edited by erotica luminaries such as M. Christian, Maxim Jakubowski, Mitzi Szereto, Rachel Kramer Bussel and Alison Tyler.
My lifelong interests in sex and the written word became serendipitously entwined about a decade ago when I read my first Black Lace book by Portia da Costa. Her work inspired me to take my fantasies out of the closet (and the private email files) and expose them to the world. The rest, as they say, is history (although, granted, no more than a minor footnote!).
I’ve always loved travelling—my husband seduced me in a Burmese restaurant by telling me tales of his foreign adventures. Since then I have visited every continent except Australia, although I still have a long travel wish list. Currently I live with him and our two exceptional felines in Southeast Asia, where I pursue an alternative career that is completely unrelated to my creative writing.
Email: [email protected]
Lisabet loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
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Tied to the Billionaire: Challenge to Him
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