by Natalie Dae
“You see the way he’s wanking him there?” Master Red asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
There was nothing hurried about it, but, as before, it wasn’t their act that grabbed my attention. It was their connection. It fascinated me. They were having a silent conversation still, gazes locked, the pair of them a mesmerizing tableau that had me staring so hard I didn’t know if I could ever turn away.
“That’s us,” he said. “How we appear to others, except as well as staring, we speak.”
“Is it?” I asked, wishing that were the case, then knowing it was but… I wasn’t willing to fully admit it yet.
Such an immense thing, a connection like that, one that scared the life out of me because it meant that this was it with me and Master Red. No one else, just the two of us, soul mates, him being the one who had been destined for me all along. I’d just had to have my arse whipped by the proverbial frogs before my knight in shining dominance had come along. Fate had a hand in all things, I firmly believed that, and people, places, were put on our paths to make sure we ended up where we ought to be.
“Yes, it is,” he said. “Now look at the others.”
I reluctantly wrenched my focus from the two men. It was obvious, more so now than ever, who was in love and who wasn’t. A couple—sub male, Mistress female—stood to the side of the cross, him on his knees wearing nothing but a collar and chain, her holding the chain, standing over him, no indication from their body language that they cared for one another. He licked the rim of her thigh-high black boot, while she stood with her hands crossed over her midsection, tapping her other foot, her facial expression showing signs of boredom.
What was their story? From what I assumed, she serviced his needs, was possibly a paid Dominatrix, someone he’d hired to accompany him tonight. As she looked down at him, disgust written clearly on her face, I had another thought. What if they chose to act this way, giving out the impression they weren’t together, that she disliked him and he just wanted to lick her boot? And who was I to judge?
“What do you see?” he asked, raising his hands slowly until he cupped my breasts.
My heart pounded hard, and I pushed my arse into him, rewarded with his thick erection grinding into the bottom of my back. He kneaded my tits, the pressure gentle yet firm. I wished I didn’t have my dress on and that our skin touched, but then this kind of petting was a buzz in itself with the promise of more to come.
“That Mistress. She looks bored, Sir.”
“But she isn’t. It’s what she wants, a man who is prepared to do whatever she asks. Mistress Queer, her name is, one she chose herself because she is indeed a strange woman. Nice when you get to know her, but from the outside she looks like she’d prefer to be anywhere else but here. Her husband, that man doing the licking—”
“Husband?” I blushed. “Sorry for interrupting, Sir.”
“Apology accepted. Her husband is a high-flying lawyer, yet to look at him you’d think he was the type who enjoyed puttering around in his garden. But he’s the stronger one in that relationship. Without him, she’d feel worthless. She told me as much.”
“Appearances are so deceptive, Sir. I would never have thought.”
“Not everyone is prepared to show all and sundry how they feel, pet. Many come here to indulge their fantasies and leave their softer sides at home. But those two, those on the cross? They’re too in love to act any other way.”
I shifted my gaze back to them. “I think they look lovely, Sir.”
“They do. As do we. See how people are watching us, wondering if we’re actually going to do anything for them?”
I glanced around casually so as not to appear obvious, strangely startled to find many people looking our way. Although I shouldn’t have been, not in a voyeur room. After all, that’s what we were here for, to see and be seen.
“I see them, Sir. And will we put on a show?”
“Possibly, though not one I would think they’d expect. I shan’t be spanking or whipping you. They’ll be sorely disappointed if that’s what they want.”
“What will you do, Sir?”
“That’s something they, and you, will have to wait to find out.”
So he wasn’t going to be telling me the order of play as he usually did. A flutter of desire mixed with excitement went through me at his change of tactics. I’d foolish thought I had him pegged, knew how he worked, but it was highly apparent I didn’t. I eagerly looked forward to what he had in store, to learning all about him, the good, the bad and the ugly.
“Very well, Sir,” I said.
* * * *
“There’s a system here at Marshall’s Cottage, Charlotte. Are you aware of what it is? Did you read the rules fully?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“So when I tell you something is going to happen, you know that it will. There’s too much emphasis elsewhere, I’ve found, having to check time and again whether my sub wants to do this or that. This way, here, anything goes so long as safe words are respected. So many places get it wrong, in my opinion. This is the only place that suits all my needs and where rules are clear and simple.”
“Yes, I agree. For me to just be able to say roses as soon as someone does something or says they will be doing it…it’s comforting.”
“So when I tell you, while holding a vibrator, that I’m going to put it inside your arse and whip you so that every time I do the whip connects with the end of the vibrator, you could remain silent or say roses.”
“I could say roses to that, Sir, but I wouldn’t.”
“Then get down on your knees, arse bared for me. Now.”
* * * *
The memory had my face heating and my cunt growing wetter. To play out such a scene in front of these people was something I would love to do, but not yet. I wanted more alone time in scenes with Master Red before going onto the stronger stuff. More time to know how he worked and how I responded. Perhaps in a few months we’d be in the right place, mentally and emotionally, but for now, I thought I could just about manage some light scenes with an audience.
“Your dress is the right length for what I have in mind,” he said, applying more pressure to my breasts. “Exactly the right material for it to be kept out of the way.”
I didn’t feel the need to respond. I stared at the man on the cross, whose breathing had become heavier. He groaned quietly, the muscles in his jaw spasming, and his Master gave a slight nod. Cum spurted in a speeding line, landing on the floor just to the side of the boot-licking man. His Mistress patted him briskly on the head then stepped back, and he shuffled to follow on his knees, just in time. Another spear of cum jetted out, the Master keeping that same languid speed, the sub on the cross fighting to keep his eyes open. My cunt twinged at the sight of him doing something usually so private in public, and I admired the way he had been able to just let himself be controlled by whatever his Master hadn’t said.
“So beautiful,” I whispered.
“Aren’t they just.”
Master Red moved his hands down to the hem of my dress and pulled it up so the material folded rather than bunched. It was so tight it stayed where he’d put it, exposing my knickerless cunt, naked of hairs. I sighed and waited for what he would do next, but he returned his hands to my breasts. Those watching us had seemed more avid as he’d bared me, their muscles tensing as they’d stood or sat up straighter, pleased that finally our show had begun. But now they relaxed again, realizing that if they wanted a quick fix they weren’t going to get it.
And neither was I.
“See them waiting?” he asked.
“I imagine you’ll time it right so they don’t get bored.”
“You know me so well already.”
He tongued the shell of my ear. The warmth from that and his breath sent my emotions scattering. Once again, everything else faded, and I saw nothing in front of me except gray empty space, my eyes glazing. I dropped my head back to rest it just below his shoulder, relaxing so he knew I wa
s ready for whatever he had to give.
“That cunt of yours,” he said. “Is it wet?”
“Yes, from before you arrived, Sir, but it’s wetter now you’re here.”
“I believe you, but I’d like to check all the same.”
I held my breath, excited beyond measure as anticipation mounted. That moment before he did something was always so heady, and my mind was spinning with how the first proper touch of our evening would feel. He smoothed one hand down my front, briefly pausing at my stomach, his hand lingering there—the glorious, teasing bastard—before he went farther south. He splayed his fingers on my upper thigh, his skin warm, getting warmer until it seemed to burn. I exhaled a shaky breath, then sucked it in again as he swept that hand across to cup my cunt. Touching but not. There but not. I resisted the urge to jerk my hips up so he got a proper handful and waited like the obedient sub I’d promised to be.
He dragged what felt like his middle finger up my slit.
“Yes, very wet. Taste it.”
He lifted his hand and touched his finger to my lips. I sucked it inside, swirling my tongue around it. A man groaned, the sound indistinct, far away outside our personal space. I didn’t care whether it was for us or someone else—it turned me on all the same.
“Hear that?” Master Red whispered. “That was for you.”
I moaned, and he pulled his finger out. I wanted him to shove it inside my cunt, but he didn’t. Instead, he fumbled for something, from his pocket, perhaps, then grazed it over my thigh.
“What do you think that is?” he asked.
A woman hissed, “yes”, and Master Red moved whatever it was more flamboyantly, just for her.
“I’m not sure, Sir. It feels like metal. Small. Like a nipple clamp.”
“Clamp is right.”
My nipples tautened at my thoughts of them being clipped then tugged, but he glided the clamp through my folds, and I knew exactly where it would end up.
“That kind of clamp,” he whispered. “Not for this”—he tweaked my nipple through my dress—“but for this”—he shifted his hand down and pinched my clit—“and you’re going to love it.”
I would, but we’d never done something so…intimate in front of anyone before. First-time nerves got to me then. My legs shook, and I wondered whether you had to be a certain kind of person to offer yourself to someone while others watched. Did you have to have a bit of the showgirl in you to be able to perform? I thought about it only for a second or two, then realized I still couldn’t see anyone. It was as though my mind had cut them off in order for me to enjoy this experience without worrying what they thought. And why should I care anyway? So long as me and Master Red had a good time, it didn’t matter what anyone else got out of it.
Did it?
“Relax, pet,” he said. “It’s going to give you quite a nip.”
Oh, I knew it would and prepared myself for the pain to come. My cunt hole clenched, my arsehole doing the same, and my nipples strained.
A blinding pain set up home between my legs. Raw agony streaked from there throughout my slit, spreading up my hole, even into my belly. I snarled, refusing to scream, and panted through it. My head flopped forward, and Master Red drew it back again with a palm on my forehead.
“Breathe,” he whispered. “You can do it. Think of how beautiful you look. How your clit is poking out from between the top of two little jaws. I’d say it was bulging, pulsating, and when the pain recedes, I’ll give you a brilliant orgasm. They’re watching you, those people. A man’s wanking over the sight. His cock’s hard enough that he might come any second, before we’ve even finished. How about that. You’ve turned him on so much he can’t wait.”
The images he’d given me played out in my mind’s eye as I closed my eyes. Sparkles of silver danced, and as my legs shook my inner thighs jostled the clamp. Oh, God, a fresh wave of much-wanted evil all over again. If I thought I’d been prepared, that I’d braced myself, I’d been so very wrong. Streaks of pain, stronger, more violent, raged, hot, white-hot and unrelenting. My knees buckled, and Master Red held me up, hugging me against him until the tremors began to ease.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
Roses, roses, roses. “I’m fine, Sir.”
“Are you sure?” He stroked over my slit.
Another bout of intensity.
Oh, fuck, roses… “Yes, Sir.”
With two fingers of one hand, he spread my lips wide. I snatched in a bit of air then held it, my pulse pounding in my ears, me concentrating on the sound of that while my clit felt swollen enough to burst. The pain would soon turn into pleasure, and although I loved the drift from one to the other, I wasn’t sure I’d be getting that far.
Gently, and using two fingers of his other hand, he slid them up and down my exposed lips, a massage to take my mind off what was going on in between them. They slid easily enough, but after one quick dip into my hole, he spread my juices, giving his fingers a wetter surface to glide over. The pleasure began in my opening, as though my nerve endings there were fizzling against one another, creating a buzz that slowly spread inside and up my slit. That buzz headed farther north, until it reached my gripped clit and swarmed over the pain, replacing it with bliss so strong I stopped breathing for a few heartbeats.
“Now, pet, now how does it feel?”
I opened my mouth to speak but found no words waiting. What I offered him was a garbled sound, one that was alien to me, as though someone else had released it.
“That good?” he asked.
He moved his fingers in a tad, closer to the clip, once again dipping into my hole to draw out the lubrication he needed. The sides of his fingers lightly nudged the clip every so often, which brought on rushes of ecstasy that bordered on mini orgasms. But a bigger one brewed, I could feel it there, hovering, waiting to overtake me.
He stopped rubbing. Flicked the clip.
I cried out, unable to stop it, uncaring what I’d sounded like.
“Oh, God,” someone said. “Fucking gorgeous.”
“She’s out of it. So out of it… Christ, I’m going to come.”
Master Red licked my earlobe. “Listen to them.”
“I…I hear them, Sir,” I managed.
Everything that I was threatened to melt away. I struggled to hold back the pressure building in my cunt. I was on the verge of coming at the same time as whoever had said they were going to. Coming with a stranger. Someone I couldn’t see. Someone who would know who I was every time I came back.
It doesn’t matter.
He flicked again.
It really doesn’t matter. Roses.
He flicked again.
Roses. I want to say roses.
Chapter Three
“Say it,” Master Red said.
“No…no!”
“Then damn well come!”
He flicked yet again. Pleasure poured in a massive rush, overwhelming in its intensity, the force of it stealing the remaining strength from my legs so that I began to buckle. Master Red caught me, holding me across my middle with one strong arm while plucking at my cunt with his free hand. He shoved his fingers inside, what seemed like more than two, and fucked my hole with concentrated jerks, short and sharp, barely any withdrawal. I fought against his hold to sink lower, wanting as much of him inside me as I could get. His fingers went in up to the second set of knuckles, stretching, widening me, bringing on more pleasure than I thought I could handle. I babbled.
“Look at her coming,” a man said. “Just look at her.”
“She’s there. So fucking there!” a woman breathed out. “I’m…I’m going with her. Oh, God, I’m going with her… Lick me. Yes, lick me. Make me co—”
I moaned as if in agony, but there was none of that now. All that rampaged through me was the top end of the bliss scale, shattering every perception of it that I’d had before. Master Red eased out from behind me, pressing me to the wall then keeping his hand firmly on my stomach. He went between my legs
—kneeling, I thought—and removed the clamp. Before a new rush of hurting could fully take hold, he sucked on my clit, pulling it into his mouth, draining it of pain, making it numb yet at the same time highly sensitive. I humped his face, muttering incoherently, shoving my cunt into him and begging for more.
“Spank my arse, Sir?” a woman said.
The sound of a sharp, stinging slap followed, then another, and another until there were too many to keep track of. The woman keened, wailing out her release, and I opened my eyes expecting to see nothing but gray again. I was assaulted with a semi-circle of people around us, cocks and tits out, hands wielding whips, nipples being pinched severely. Eyes were closed, cum was spewing, cunt juices glistening, all these things smacking into me and sending me completely over the edge.
Boldly, I dragged the top of my dress down until my breasts were free, and stared at Master Red. I’d broken one of our rules by doing that, but God, I wanted my nipples seen to.
He looked up, paused in his sucking, and said, “Invite.”
Was he daring me to say roses?
I was too far gone to even think of that now. Master Red went back to my cunt, licking, ramming his fingers into my hole, shunting me up the wall every time he pushed in. I stared around at those watching, and a man took one step forward to place a hand on Master Red’s shoulder.
My Master nodded at him, then the Dom looked at me. He tilted his head, and I nodded, too, shocked that I had, yet at the same time not caring who touched my nipples so long as someone did.
“Yes, Sir, please…” I said to him.
He moved to my side and took one nipple between finger and thumb. Squeezed—and kept squeezing until the pain in my clit was just a distant memory. I pushed into his hand, asking for more, and he twisted at the same time Master Red nipped my clit with his teeth.
I was lost.