"I think you'll have to graduate to the cane."
She shook her head but he didn't give her a chance to protest. “You've got the hang of it, and I've already told you I'm good with your using it on him anytime. The large Delrin in your playroom should do the job—full force with the belt until he's close, and then ten to twenty solid strikes of the cane ought to push him over the edge. You'll want him bawling, not merely a few tears. That last bit can be hard, to give those final half dozen strikes that seem to break him, but he needs it from you, just as he occasionally needs it from me."
He pulled her into a hug. “He's ours now, dear, and there's no one else on the planet I'd rather share him with."
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Chapter Sixteen
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Dana walked into the club a Domme, with high-heeled black boots reaching her knees, and a black strapless corset dress—the metal boning more than enough to hold it in place—and plenty of leg showing between dress and boots. Jacob had designed it for her, and it molded to her body perfectly. Now all she needed was Jacob, but he was working tonight, getting several divas ready for their own New Year's Eve parties, and would join them later.
Zach had tightened her corset, reminding her she'd be bound by him as she walked around as a sexy Domme. He'd promised she was only a Domme until she and Brent were through with Jacob, and then he'd strip her down to nothing and make her crawl.
She watched the evening's entertainment with Brent and Zach, and grew particularly aroused by the pony play demonstration—something she'd need to talk to Zach about later. Their table was front and center, five feet from the edge of the stage, and she could see every detail of the equipment the girls wore. She wondered how it would feel, to be so dehumanized.
Her cellphone vibrated on her leg and she checked it, seeing the text from the driver Brent had hired, letting her know they were five minutes away. She showed the message to the men and stood to walk out, as Brent wanted her to meet Jacob at the car and bring him in.
Jacob was always harried after preparing people for an event, but she'd learned how to handle him, and she looked him over carefully as she opened his door to usher him out. It was cold, but she kept him outside a few minutes to talk, wanting to help him transition from ordering a bunch of Divas around to belonging to her and Brent.
She asked how the job had gone, leaning him against a wall and massaging his hands as he talked. When she thought he was relaxing, she inquired if he was ready to submit to both her and Brent at the same time, and saw him sliding into the right headspace.
The minute she had him past the outer lobby door she said, “Strip."
He didn't bat an eyelash, just began shedding garments, handing them to her as they came off. When he was nude she took him to the locker room, placing his clothing in her locker and pulling a large plug and some lube out, watching his face as she closed the lock. She understood how it felt—naked amongst a crowd of people, your clothes locked away from you. Only a few submissives had been stripped to nothing this early in the evening, and she also knew how it felt to stand out.
"Hands behind your back."
He was semi-hard, and she played with him until he was gasping with pleasure, a small audience around them. She stopped abruptly and tightened a cock ring and ball stretcher on him, his groans igniting her libido and making her wish she could do more, but the evening had been planned out to almost the minute.
"Turn around, bend over. Open up for me."
She lubed the plug and pushed it in quickly, knowing it would be uncomfortable, and rejoiced as his hands tightened and relaxed around his ankles a few times as he dealt with the intrusion.
"Up, Jacob."
She clipped a leash to his cock ring and turned to walk without bothering to tell him to follow. She hadn't put cuffs on him, but he kept his hands folded behind his back as they walked. She pulled him beside her as they went through a congested area, wrapping her arms around him protectively as they moved through the bodies. She felt him shrinking into her, and knew it'd been a good call.
She led him straight to their table, where Zach and Brent were comfortably munching on finger foods. The fire demonstration on stage reminded her they were next, and she wondered if Brent had made the right decision, not telling Jacob of their plans.
Brent quickly put Jacob's bondage collar and cuffs on him before saying, “Under the table. Get me out and into your mouth. I need to relieve a little tension before the party gets started tonight."
Dana grinned at Brent as his face grew lax—she knew how talented Jacob could be with his mouth.
He timed it well, coming about ten minutes before they were to have Jacob on stage. Brent allowed him to use the restroom before blindfolding him and leading him out. He walked him around enough to disorient him, meeting Dana in the backstage area and handing the leash to her, so she was the one who escorted him on stage.
Brent had talked to her about how she might feel on stage as a Domme, but the reality was a lot more taxing than she'd realized. This was about Jacob's fantasies, about putting him through his paces in front of an audience, and required his submission be deep enough to proclaim it publicly. She was just here to facilitate it for him, and to know how far she could push him.
They'd practiced walking blindfolded by voice commands, and she directed him around the stage by the cock leash, increasing his speed to show how quick his reactions were, showing him off to the crowd before they restrained him.
They used the overhead winch, with his arms spread wide over his head and a long spreader bar on his ankles, attached to a bolt in the floor. Brent started with a Florentine pattern on his back while Dana used a short flogger on his nipples, cock, balls, and thighs. She'd learned how to make him scream, how to make him jerk, and then how to punish him for jerking. They'd been into it about fifteen minutes when a stagehand rolled the reclining bondage table out and they brought the flogging to an end, releasing him from the spreader bars.
Brent half walked and half carried him to a chair, removed his blindfold, and Dana placed sunglasses over his eyes so the stage lights would be easier to deal with. One of the sound people clipped microphones onto both Brent and Dana, and Brent addressed his slave.
"Jacob, this is Mark Davis, and he has some documents for you to sign. You'll be receiving a guiche piercing, with custom-made jewelry I designed. You'll then be given a Prince Albert, and will be gifted with a ring Dana designed. Here's a pen, Mark needs you to look over the paperwork before you sign."
It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, and Jacob's already erect cock grew even harder. He looked from Brent to Dana several times, finally saying, “I'll wear jewelry both of you designed? All the time?"
Dana nodded and saw Brent doing the same beside her. The crowd was quiet, waiting to hear what Jacob would say. His eyes watered a little as he said, “Thank you. I love you both so much, I'll wear whatever you put on me proudly."
Brent said, “We love you, too. You belong to both of us, it's only fitting you carry both of our marks. Mine behind your balls, visible when I'm using you. Hers on your cock, another way to pleasure your Lady. Sign the paper, Jacob."
Dana breathed a sigh of relief. Jacob had readily agreed to piercings in the contract, but she'd still worried he might balk. Brent had been sure of his reaction though, and he'd been right. Jacob felt like a lucky slave, wasn't afraid of the pain at all.
The reclining bondage table was made to hold the victim up, so they could see what was being done to their genitals. There were gynecological stirrups to keep the legs out of the way, and plenty of tie-down points to immobilize torso and arms.
With Brent and Dana working, it didn't take long to get him completely restrained. Cameras were trained on Jacob's face and balls, with large projector screens at the back of the stage showing both shots—giving the audience a very personal view. Nothing was recorded; the cameras were only to enhance the show.
Brent comforted
him through the first piercing, which didn't seem to be all that bad. Dana looked down at Zach, sitting close to the stage in front of her, and he caught her eye and gave her a smile that made her insides clinch. Dana's contract also said Zach could pierce her where it wouldn't show, but would he spring this on her out of nowhere? She'd wondered about the possibility when he'd sent her to be waxed with Jacob yesterday, and now the likelihood seemed even greater.
Once the ring was through the piercing, Brent moved down to screw the tag on, and then Dana took his place at Jacob's hip as the piercer began prep for the PA. She held Jacob's hand and talked him through it as a tube was inserted into his urethra, everything lined up, and, finally, the needle pushed through. Jacob gave one quick scream as the needle poked out from the center of his cock, and then a series of gasps as the ring was pulled back through.
Dana moved to stand with the piercer and had to keep her hands from shaking as she screwed the bead she'd designed onto the ring. Her eyes rose to meet Jacob's as she finished, and she could see the adrenaline overload in his expression, but could also see the love and devotion. She knew he'd value this connection to the two people who owned him, and that made it more meaningful to her. She'd know even when he was working in Nashville and she was in Chattanooga, he'd have the ring she bought for him in his cock—her initial in the bead.
She reached down, grasping the base of his cock, and said, “Mine, Jacob. You're mine, and this is mine. I love you."
"Thank you. I love you, too."
The audience clapped as they wheeled the table off stage, but she was stopped before she made it out of the harsh lights, as Zach strode onstage towards her, his face in full Dom mode. He had a microphone on, surprising her when she heard his voice over the speakers.
"Kneel."
She dropped to her knees, not as gracefully as she did when barefoot, but she negotiated it without embarrassing herself. Zach walked around her a few times and she kept her head down until he stood in front of her. She looked up, meeting his eyes, and he smiled.
"Good girl. Who do you belong to?"
"You, Sir."
"Brent will take care of Jacob. You did good with him. Are you through being Domme for the day?"
"I am, Sir. Thank you."
"Stand and turn, you'll need help getting out of your corset."
Zach was fast with the laces, and before long she was nude. He instructed her to place dress and boots neatly at the front edge of the stage, and when she took the first step back to him he said, “No. Crawl."
She hesitated, saw his eyebrow raise, and fell to hands and knees. She wasn't fully in the right headspace yet, but needed to get there. She made the crawl all he'd want—her ass to the audience, back arched the way he liked, legs spread enough to show everything to the crowd.
She kept eye contact with him as she slinked to him, and saw his approval; but then he had her crawl farther back, beyond him, so she couldn't see him anymore. It was harder to maintain her lascivious posture without his eyes anchoring her, but she managed.
"Stop. Don't turn around. You've been learning to hold position, to take what I give you without being restrained. Let's see how much the lessons have sunk in, shall we?"
"Whatever pleases you. Sir."
There were no warning sounds, no indication of what was about to happen, and Dana's right ass cheek exploded in pain. Her arms bent down slightly, her head dipped a little, but her legs stayed put. He'd pulled out the bullwhip, and expected her to endure it without moving? And no warm-up? Shit.
He didn't give her long to deal with the pain before a strike hit her left ass cheek and skimmed onto her right, but she succeeded in staying still this time.
He only gave her eight strikes, but she wasn't warmed up, and she screamed on the last four. If he'd given her a ninth, she doubted she'd have been able to remain in position. Her emotions were all over the place as she wondered why he'd started with the bullwhip, until he was helping her stand, and realized the brief exercise had taken her from Domme to owned in no time, and she was thankful.
"Good girl. I'm proud of you, pet, staying still without a warm-up. You couldn't have handled that a month ago. Come, Mr. Davis has some paperwork for you to sign."
It wasn't the bondage table, but the gynecological table, placing Dana flat on her back, not able to see as Jacob had.
Zach didn't ask her to sit, but stood beside the table with her as they looked over the documents.
"Your clit hood will be pierced, a small Z hanging from it. You learned what a plug is when you were researching piercings for Jacob, didn't you?"
"Yes, Sir. It's what people use when they want to open their piercings into larger holes."
He nodded. “Your outer lips will be pierced in eight places—four on each side—with the fattest needle Mr. Davis will use. He'll put rings in this evening, and once the holes have healed you'll have an appointment to receive larger jewelry every four to six weeks, until I'm happy with the size. Eventually, you'll wear tunnel plugs, and I'll have the option of locking a thin chain through them, to block off access to your pussy and clit."
Dana's head swam. “You're having me pierced nine times, Sir? Tonight?"
He caressed his hand down her face, speaking softly. “Our contract states I can have your genitals pierced in any way I wish. You're not being punished, so you have your safeword if you want to use it."
She took a deep breath, looked beyond the pain to what it would mean for the future. This was him claiming her pussy, marking it as his, and the implications of what he'd be able to do with it later...
"My body is yours, Sir. Any hesitation isn't over your right to pierce me, but a fear of so many at once. I trust you to take care of me, and to know what I can handle. I'm not in subspace, and it's going to hurt, Sir."
"Do you trust me to not give you more than you can handle?"
"Yes, Sir. I do."
"I'd like you to look over the forms and sign them, please. That's not an order; Mr. Davis needs to have your consent, not mine."
She glanced through and quickly signed her name, laying the pen down and leaning back into Zach, her knees shaky with nerves, her blood through the roof with arousal.
The piercer removed the paperwork and Zach helped her onto the table. She was grateful for the bondage; she'd feared for a moment he might expect her to hold still, and her control wasn't that good.
They attached her in so many places she couldn't move any part of her body but mouth and eyelids. No sooner did she have the thought than he came to her with one of her most hated gags. It was a large ball fastened to a wide neoprene band. She could breathe through the hole, but it stretched her jaw to the point she couldn't use her tongue or lips, especially with the band sealing off the lower part of her face. She could scream, but only a portion of the sound would make it out, and words would be impossible.
He draped the rawhide flogger over her stomach and ran his hands through her folds until she was crazy with need. He switched his microphone off and said, “I don't have much time to get you into subspace, pet. I'm not upset with you, but I know this will get you there faster than anything else. The gag is there so you don't embarrass yourself in front of the audience. I love you."
He turned the mic back on, picked up the flogger, and said, “Show me your safe signal."
She opened and closed her hands three times, paused, did it another three times.
He let loose with the flogger on her inner thighs and she immediately began screaming, fighting the restraints in futility, struggling to evade the lash as he hit hard, fast, and without mercy. She counted to thirty in her head and lost count, the hits merging into one another, her screams trapped behind the huge gag so they were louder in her head than in her ears. Her body immobilized, she was frantic from the pain, with no way to escape it.
When it finally stopped, all she could do was fight for breath, try to breathe. She was still screaming in her head, but too weak to keep struggling.
She felt a cool cloth on her face, opened her eyes, and melted as she met Zach's tender gaze. She felt fingers on her pussy lips, pulling them out—and then on her clit.
"It's okay. He's looking everything over and he'll get started in a minute. He's good; we'll be through this in no time, right?"
Dana felt pressure on her pussy lips and suddenly, pain. She'd done needle play before and had been expecting a similar feeling, but this was different. She heard herself screaming through the hole in the gag, and tried to move, but couldn't. Zach caressed her face, told her it was over, the needle was through and the jewelry in.
The piercer wasted no time, it seemed like less than a minute later a needle was pushing through a spot just a little lower than the first piercing, and Dana could feel the distinct popping of skin on one side, felt it pushing through, and screamed as it broke through on the other side. She couldn't figure out why it was hurting so bad, something was wrong, needle play had never felt like this before. Zach was right there with her, caressing her face, talking to her, helping her breathe through it.
When Mr. Davis finally finished the eighth on her labia, she was exhausted, and barely felt the clit hood piercing—a tweak with the needle, nothing more.
The ceiling began moving as she was rolled offstage, Zach holding her hand and telling her how well she'd done, and it was over now.
Brent met them as she left the view of the audience and released her from the table while Zach removed the gag. Someone brought her dress and boots, but Zach put them into his bag. She looked around for Jacob when they stood her up, saw him sitting in a chair close by, met his eyes, sensed he was fine, and relaxed back into Zach's arms.
Brent's voice rumbled near her ear. “He's good. Let's get you taken care of and we'll all go home."
Zach wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and held her a few minutes before saying, “We have permission to leave by the side door so you won't have to walk far. I emptied both lockers while the three of you were onstage, and Brent has all of our things. Do you think you can walk about twenty yards to the car?
Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon Page 18