Sir looked at her, seemingly disappointed, and sighed. “Yes, of course you will.”
Stella paused and thought for a moment. As much as she’d dreamed of starting her life over after she’d finished her sixty days with him, she also knew if she walked away now, she’d never see Sir again. Ever. He’d be done with her. He’d find someone new. He’d forget about her, and she wasn’t ready for that, yet. She reached out her hand to take the money from him.
“Well? Are you staying or going?”
“I’m staying, Sir.”
“Very well. You can go to your room for the night, and I’ll come and see you when I’m ready.”
“Yes, Sir.”
She thought about what she’d just agreed to as she walked slowly down the dim corridors back to her room, and she felt disappointed. Not with her decision to stay, but because he seemed to get even colder toward her the longer she stayed, instead of warming to her. Her mind wandered back to the time when Walt came to get her, the fight, and Walt getting shot. Back then, it had almost felt like there was going to be more than just a client-service provider relationship. When she’d told him she was leaving, she really wanted him to fight for her to stay. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d just bought her, just like he would rent a car.
Would he ever care for her the way she was growing to care for him?
Now she knew what had happened between Walt, Lucy, and Sir, and she felt afflicted for him even more. She pondered on how awful it must have been to grow up like that. Her mother might have been an addict, and she might have treated her like a child, never wanting her to grow up, but at least she had a mother that loved her. It seemed that Walt, Lucy, and Sir didn’t have anyone to care for them until Maga came along, and she could only adopt one of them. She thought about Sir losing his best friend so he could be with the girl he loved, only to have her die on him a few years later. That was just so sad. No wonder he was messed up and had such a hard time communicating any kind of feelings to anyone.
She had to stay. She figured there must still be part of his younger self, even deep inside the hardened, callous man he’d become, who needed love and affection.
Chapter 16
Sir didn’t come back to see her for several days—three to be exact. Stella had no clock, TV, or even a radio in her room, but she did get fed by Maga three times a day. She knew how many days had passed and roughly what time of the day it was from whatever was on her plate.
On that particular morning, Maga brought in her breakfast, and Stella knew it had been three days—three torturous days. She’d spent too much time trying to figure out what she might have done to make Sir mad at her to not visit, but she’d come up with nothing. In between thinking about it, she’d been reading since he’d finally allowed her to have some magazines—most of them old but better than nothing. She’d also exercised and bathed—a lot. Her body was super smooth from all the lotions and oils Sir had provided, and she was in better shape than she’d ever been in her entire life. She loved looking in the mirror at her taut tummy, and her peachy round ass was rock hard.
Occasionally, she’d got herself off, stroking and massaging her clit and pussy until she came, but her climaxes had been nowhere near as satisfying without feeling the sting of the paddle on her bare bottom, or the threat of punishment if she did come without permission. She’d mostly given up on that. Plus, if she waited, she knew the gift of an orgasm Sir allowed her to have was so incredibly powerful and rewarding. She was in heaven whenever she was finally allowed to come.
It was after lunch when Sir finally came for her. He looked somber. He had an outfit with him which he laid out on the bed.
“Have a shower or a bath and get ready, we’re going out tonight—and shave all your pubic hair.”
With her eyes lowered, she asked, “May I ask where we are going, Sir?”
“We’re going back to the club tonight, and don’t think you’re going to get off as easy as you did last time. This time you’re going to get the full treatment.”
“May I ask one more question, Sir?” Stella asked.
“Yes,” he said with an annoyed sigh. “What is it, Stella?”
“Will I get a collar tonight?”
He snorted at her request. “Am I still paying you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re still just a whore, and you don’t deserve a collar, right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He was about to leave when he turned and looked at her. “Stella, tell me what you are.”
She lowered her head. More so he couldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes than out of submissiveness. “I’m your whore, Sir. Bought and paid for.”
“Very good. Maga will be here in half an hour to help you get dressed.”
“Help me? But I’ve been getting dressed on my own since I was a kid.” She immediately bit her tongue. It had just slipped out without her thinking, but she knew it was too late to take it back.
“Don’t be insolent, Stella. You’re in for quite the night as it is, and you don’t want me to add extra punishments, do you?”
“No, Sir.”
He left the room, closing the door behind him, and Stella headed into the shower. There was something different about him. What was it? Yes, he was still cold, but there was something in his eyes when he turned and asked her to tell him what she was. She reveled in the sprays of hot water running down her body and thought no more about it. When she got out of the shower, Maga was waiting for her.
“Are you ready to get dressed, miss?”
“Yes. I don’t know why I need your help, though.”
“Have you looked at the outfit yet?”
Stella shook her head, and Maga went over to the bed and opened a box. She pulled a mass of black PVC out, shiny, long and one-piece. Next, she opened another box and reached inside for two shiny, black, knee-high boots with six-inch heels that looked like they were going to be as hard to get on as they would be to walk in.
Yes, now Stella could see why Maga was here to help her get dressed.
“Okay, make sure you’re good and dry before we get started with this. Not a speck of wet on your body.”
Stella got to work vigorously towel drying her body.
“Lotion?” Stella asked.
“Not if you ever want to get out of these things!” Maga laughed. “Baby powder.”
Maga asked her to stand with her legs open and liberally spread baby powder on her legs and all the way up to her waist. She even spread her butt cheeks and sprinkled powder in there, too. With expert precision, Maga helped her into the body suit—it was skin tight and hugged her calves and thighs like a second skin. Maga yanked at it until the stirrups at the feet were tight, and the outfit was spread over her hips. Stella noticed there was a zipper between her legs that started mid-groin and went up to the top of her ass.
“Now, let’s get the top up,” Maga said, and after more baby powder and more stretching, the outfit was finally on, all the way up to the neck. There were stiffeners up the back of the neck and under her chin that held her head in place. They weren’t metal, but something hard, and once her head was in place, she couldn’t move it more than an inch or so in either direction and it forced her to hold her head high. Just as there were on the bottom half, there were zippers in front of her breasts to, presumably, allow Sir to give anyone access to them whenever he chose to. Next were the boots, and Maga helped her into them and laced them up the front for her just as there was a knock at the door.
“Almost ready?” came Sir’s voice.
“Almost. Just the neck up to finish,” Maga said.
“Okay, bring her out when you’re done.” Stella heard his footsteps disappear down the hall.
“What’s left?” she asked.
“He’s instructed me to have your hair done up with a ponytail high on your head and then there’s a mask and a ball gag.
The outfit was rather awkward, so Maga stood on a chair to put her hair in the pony
tail then the mask went on and the ball gag went in. Maga took her by the hand and led her out of the room. By now, Stella was familiar enough with the house that she was comfortable being blindfolded, but was he really going to take her to the club in this getup? Could it possibly be safe?
Stella heard Sir stand up from the leather couch in the hallway, and she heard him walking around her. She knew he was looking her up and down. He stood behind her, and she felt his hand reach between her legs and unzip the zipper between them.
She jumped a little and whimpered when he eased two of his fingers inside her. He leaned toward her ear and said, “I see you find this outfit as sexy as I do.” She said nothing as he slid his fingers out and zipped her back up. She wondered what he was going to do next, and she didn’t have to wait very long to find out. He moved in front of her, unzipped each zipper and pulled a breast through each hole. The metal teeth of the zippers scraped her skin slightly, and her nipples immediately hardened in the cool air. Sir gave each nipple a firm pinch and then slapped each breast a few times.
“Nice,” he said then pushed each breast back inside and zipped her back up.
“Would you like to see what you look like one time before we leave? It will be the only chance you have.”
Stella nodded, and he pulled her over to the full-length mirror at the back of the room and removed her mask. If she hadn’t had a ball gag in her mouth, it would have dropped open. Maga had done her hair in an elaborately-styled pony tail, high on her head. It looked exotic. Her red hair and pale skin dramatically stood out against the black PVC, and the high heels made her so much taller than she was. Her curves popped like crazy and her still hard nipples poked at the inside of the fabric. She looked like… like a sex machine, but that was all the glimpse she got before Sir pulled the mask over her eyes again.
“This will be a long night Stella. Are you ready? Do you trust me?”
She nodded her confirmation. She had no clue what she was in for, but she had to believe that the Michael she was falling in love with was in there with Sir, and that no real harm would come to her.
“Okay, let’s go.”
He guided her out to the car and helped her lie down in the back seat. The outfit was so snug, but she found that once she got used to it, the pliability of the PVC made it much easier to sit in than it would have been if it were made of leather. After driving in silence for what Stella guessed was twenty minutes, Sir stopped, and she heard noise outside the car. She assumed they’d arrived at the club, and the noise was probably coming from a crowd of people standing outside, hoping to gain entrance—just as they were the last time they were here. She remembered how proud she’d been to be seen with Sir, and of the sexy outfit he’d had her dress in.
She felt her cheeks turning red as the chatter of people outside the club reduced to silence, and then sniggering as they stopped their conversations to stare at her appearance. She wasn’t just a sexy lady going into a BDSM club. She was obviously a sex toy—there for someone’s pleasure and nothing else. There could have been no doubt in any of their minds what she was—a whore.
Chapter 17
Immediately upon entering the club, she was handed off by Sir to some unknown person. “Take her to station four. Prepare her. I’ll be there when I’m ready.”
“Yes, sir,” said a young male voice. Likely one of the young male subs she’d seen there last time. She clutched at his arm as he guided her through the crowd, and then he stopped.
“We’re at the platform. There are four steps up.”
Stella gingerly climbed the steps to the top of the platform. The young man proceeded to bind her hands and ankles to a St. Andrew’s Cross. She knew there’d be no getting down from the platform until you were allowed to come down, and as much as being tied up in full public view terrified her, it also turned her on. So wrong, but so right, she thought. Her guide then left her, and all she could do was wait. The anticipation was the worst of it. Stella had no idea how long she was expected to be up there, but she knew from the last time that it could be a while. Sir had a habit of making her wait things out. Of course, the longer she waited, the more her imagination went into overdrive. What was going to happen?
Occasionally, people would approach her, and she’d feel hands across her breasts, her stomach, and at her hips. Someone else came up to her and undid the zippers at her breasts and let just her nipples poke out. A few minutes later, her breasts were pulled out so everyone could see. People whispered in her ear, called her a whore or whatever other names they preferred. They pinched her nipples or even stopped to suckle at them if they chose. Their attention was nothing she’d ever experienced as a hooker, and she didn’t know what to expect next. She could feel so many people watching her, and the longer she was up there, the more attention she got, and the more her excitement grew—and the worst part was, none of them were Sir. She would have known.
Her mind was reeling. This was as much of a mind fuck as anything she’d ever experienced with Sir in the past. He was screwing with her thoughts, and he wasn’t anywhere near her. It pissed her off, yet it turned her on, and it was making her so fucking horny. Much more than she wanted to admit aloud, but the wetness between her thighs didn’t lie. Everything that had led to this point had been an extreme turn on until, finally, he approached her.
“Are you having fun, whore?”
“Yes, Sir,” she answered, knowing what he wanted to hear and that lying would not have done her any good. He knew exactly how excited she was.
“Are you ready for a bit of pain to go with your pleasure?”
“Whatever pleases you, Sir.”
She felt his fingers reach for her nipples, twisting them between his fingers until they were hard little peaks. She’d been through this before. She knew what was coming next, and she was right—the clamps. She felt the first one squeeze her nipple and tighten just enough until it was a dull throbbing pain. The next one followed and then—the weights. They weren’t as heavy as those he’d used at home, but they did the trick. Her breasts ached and her nipples burned. Despite the fact that she felt it was wrong to like it, she did—very much.
Then Sir was gone again, and as before, people came up to her and played, doing whatever amused them. Some of them pulled gently at the chain, while others rubbed ice cubes on her and some even dripped hot wax onto her breasts and nipples, making her wince in surprise. As she couldn’t see what was going on, all her other senses were heightened. It was more erotic than she ever imagined it could be.
Sir finally returned, and she hoped whatever he had planned for her was going to begin. She ached all over. Her pussy was so wet, and she didn’t really care what he did to her as long as it brought her closer to the orgasm she so desperately craved. At that point, she would have fucked the whole room if that was what he demanded. How can I like this so much, she wondered? But I do. I really do.
She felt him slowly undo the zipper between her legs and wrap something around her thighs. She gasped as two metal bars were nestled between her lips, and they felt so cold against her hot, wet pussy. Two ties around her thighs were pulled behind her so the thin metal bars spread her pussy open wide. Great, she thought. Now everyone could see just how excited she was.
“Have fun, whore,” Sir whispered in her ear as he gave her clit a little pinch and walked away. Before long, a couple people came up to her and slid objects into her gaping pussy or played with her clit until she started to moan, and then they’d walk away. Some objects vibrated, others just felt like lubricated cold steel, and each time they stopped fucking her with them, she wished they’d come back, no matter how slutty it made her feel. Frustrating, but nothing worse than anything Sir had put her through before.
She heard the music being turned down and a voice over the microphone. “Hi, everyone. I won’t take much of your time.” It was Sir! “I just wanted to remind you that the whore on platform four is NOT allowed to come. You can have whatever fun you like with her, but don’t make he
r come! Thank you.”
He was talking about her! Giving everyone permission to do what they wanted to her. Did that mean that they could fuck her, too? And she knew that his announcement was just as much for her benefit as it was for anyone else. She was simply not allowed to come unless he gave his permission to, and since he wasn’t around, she couldn’t ask. Stella focused her mind. I can do this. She managed to control herself perfectly fine until someone approached her with a sub.
“Pet, get on your knees and lick her pussy.”
Stella twinged with excitement, but also worry because she knew if there was going to be anything that made her lose control, it was having her pussy licked. Especially if this sub had any clue what it was doing—and whoever it was, did.
Stella surmised that the sub seemed to be female, based on her response to her master. Her tongue was delicate at first, just tasting her, but as she was encouraged by others watching the spectacle, she put all her effort into it. Her tongue dipped right inside her pussy while her nose rubbed up against her clit, then her tongue slowly circled around her hard pearl. Alternating between gentle and firm pressure, Stella felt her orgasm growing inside her.
She tried so hard to control it, thinking about anything mundane she could bring to mind that wasn’t sexy, but none of it worked. Her legs were loose and limp like noodles, and she couldn’t resist shoving her hips toward that hot, torturing tongue. She knew she couldn’t hold back much longer, and her only hope was to not let anyone know she was coming. It was impossible, and when her orgasm crashed through her, it came hard, unrelenting, and fast. Stella lost control, moaning loudly as her body visibly shook, and the crowd cheered and clapped, watching her writhe in ecstasy.
Then the sub was gone, and Sir was there.
“I warned you if you came that you’d be punished, whore. Luckily, I’m in a good mood tonight, so I’ll let you choose your punishment. The paddle or the Sybian?” he asked as he removed the ball gag.
The Sybian—Stella had seen that blonde woman riding it the last time Sir had brought her here. Surely, that would be the lesser of two evils.
Shameless Submission: A Dark BDSM Romance Page 11