After a moment, Martin turned back and waved to them with a grin. “It’s all good. Come on in.” He then did a comical double take as he looked at the girls. “Oh, my, my, my. This is going to be fun. Give me that stuff,” he added, gesturing toward the clothing they each held in their hands. “You won’t be needing it for a while.” He held out his hand and the girls both gave him their discarded garments, which he tucked into the gear bag.
The walls of the club had been painted black, the space lit by large sconces that resembled flickering candles. There were six separate scene stations set up around the perimeter of the large room, each one with different BDSM equipment, including a set of stocks, a medical bondage table, a spanking bench, a suspension web, and two St. Andrew’s crosses.
There were perhaps twenty or twenty-five people milling about the small space. Racks of canes, whips and paddles had been strategically placed at each scene station, several of which were already occupied, scenes in progress as the two couples made their way through the club.
Along the back wall stood a shiny chrome bar with black and chrome swivel stools set in front of it. A tall, swarthy man with a heavy beard and multiple tattoos, clad in a black leather vest, stood behind the bar. “Evening, folks. Hey, Martin. Good to see you again. What can I get you and your friends?”
“Hey, Oscar,” Martin said as they seated themselves at the bar. “Thanks. Just a couple of bottles of water, right, guys?” He looked to the other three, who nodded. As Oscar placed four cold bottles on the bar, Martin said, “You remember my sub girl, Lauren, and these are our friends Liam and Allie.”
“Welcome to The Hot Seat,” Oscar replied in a gravelly voice. His gaze shifted to the two women, his small, sharp eyes glittering. “Hopefully you’ll be heating the seats of these two lovelies in short order.”
“That’s the plan,” Martin said as he jumped down from his stool and scooped his bag from the floor. He placed two of the four unopened water bottles into the bag. “Thanks for the water, bro,” he said to Oscar. He turned to the others. “Let’s grab one of the crosses before it’s taken.” Reaching for Lauren’s arm, he pulled her from the stool.
Lauren flashed an excited grin in Allie’s direction. “Come on. I want you to watch.”
At a nod from Liam, Allie dropped the other two bottles into her purse, and she and Liam followed the couple. As they walked, Allie leaned into him and slipped her arm around his waist. Something about the position made his walking cane nearly unnecessary, and he allowed himself to lean back against her, just a little.
At the cross station, Martin was already engaged in cuffing Lauren’s wrists on either side of the X. He left her legs free. Liam and Allie came to a stop behind them. Liam could feel both Allie’s excitement and agitation. He kept his arm firmly around her shoulders.
Several people joined them in a semi circle around the cross, the usual onlookers who provided a ready, eager audience for every scene. When Martin pulled the cane from his gear bag, he held it out for the onlookers to admire and then whipped it with an audible whoosh through the air. A small chorus of oohs and aahs erupted amidst laughter.
“Bring it on, man,” one of the men called. “Mark her good.”
Martin surveyed the group and raised his index finger to his lips to indicate quiet. To their credit, the group silenced at once. Martin turned his attention back to Lauren. Though she was in four-inch heels, Martin was a good foot taller than she. Leaning over her, he gripped a handful of her hair, which he coiled in his fingers, using it to pull her head back.
He kissed her roughly on the mouth, drawing an audible moan from her lips. The chemistry between them was palpable, like an electric force field that held them both in its thrall.
When Martin drew the metal tip of the cane down Lauren’s spine, a shudder moved through Allie’s frame, as if she were the one on the cross. Liam pulled his girl closer and kissed her hair.
Martin began to tap Lauren’s plump, curvaceous ass in light, steady strokes that made the flesh jiggle pleasingly. Allie tensed again as the cane’s stroke intensified, though Lauren remained the picture of calm serenity.
When the first stroke hit hard enough to leave a welt in its wake, Lauren’s only reaction was a sigh. Martin moved to her side, his wrist flicking with expertise as he began to paint parallel horizontal welts over Lauren’s ass cheeks. At the tail of each welt was a darker, deeper mark, the result of the metal tip.
Allie reached up for Liam’s hand on her shoulder and gripped it hard.
Lauren had begun to breathe deeply, her shoulders rising and falling with each searing crack of the cane. She was, Liam saw, working with the pain, using her breath to ride each new wave. More people had gathered to watch the scene, everyone maintaining a respectful silence as Martin danced around his sub girl, wielding the cane with masterful precision. Lauren’s bottom was striped with crimson welts, and Martin turned his focus to the expanse of flesh above the lace band of Lauren’s stockings.
As the cane landed against the back of both thighs in unison, Lauren emitted her first real cry of pain. Martin struck her again, several times in rapid succession, leaving a series of welts in neat rows against the backs of her thighs. Her shoulders hunched, the muscles bunching with tension.
Lauren began to jerk at her restraints, and Liam saw the sheen of perspiration on her skin. Martin paused the caning a moment, moving to stand directly behind Lauren. He bent forward, whispering in her ear as he stroked her hair. As he spoke to her, Lauren visibly relaxed, her breathing slowing, her limbs loosening.
Liam pulled his eyes from the scene to regard his sub girl. She twitched nervously, her eyes wide with anxiety. Liam leaned close and spoke softly. “What is it, sub Allie? What’s making you so skittish?”
“You don’t know Lauren like I do,” Allie replied in an anxious stage whisper. “She doesn’t have boundaries. She never uses her safeword, no matter how far a guy might go. She’ll never tell him to stop. What if Martin doesn’t know that? What if he goes too far?”
“She’s wearing his collar, sweetheart,” Liam reminded Allie gently. “She trusts him. I trust him, too. Don’t you? It’s clear he knows what he’s doing.” He kissed the top of Allie’s head. “I think maybe you’re reacting off your own fear, rather than what’s actually happening in front of you. I see a submissive woman accepting the caning her Master is lovingly giving her. She’s where she wants to be. She asked that you witness this scene. I ask that you accept what you are seeing with grace and courage. One day soon it will be you there on the cross. One day, you will have enough faith and trust, not only in me, but in yourself, to get to where Lauren is now.”
“It is time now, slave,” Martin said, drawing them both back to the scene. His voice had taken on a deep, resonant tone as if he were speaking from a stage. “I am going to give you five wicked strokes. When I’m done, you will let go. You will soar.”
“Yes, Master Martin,” Lauren said throatily.
The crowd held its collective breath as the cane struck Lauren’s ass, leaving a dark, vicious mark in its wake, a droplet of blood at the tail. “One,” Martin intoned.
“Oh!” Allie cried. Liam pulled her close.
Martin struck again. “Two.”
At the end of the fifth strike, Lauren’s head fell slowly back. Instead of the twist of pain one might expect to see after such an intense caning, Lauren’s lips were lightly parted, her eyes closed as if she were sleeping, her expression placid, even serene. She was utterly still. She didn’t even appear to be breathing. She looked like an angel, floating in her own private heaven.
“Ooh,” Allie sighed, holding the syllable for several long seconds, the awe evident in her tone.
“Wow,” Liam agreed, equally awestruck. Somehow, Martin had sent his sub girl flying on command. It was something that had never even occurred to Liam to try. Yet there was no denying what he was witnessing. Lauren was in that powerful and secret place a good Dom could take his sub, but could
never really follow. He could only stand back and watch, ready to catch and hold his charge when she finally drifted back to earth.
Martin dropped the cane and stepped directly behind Lauren once more. He extended his arms, covering Lauren’s hands with his own as he rested his cheek lightly against the top of her head. Liam could feel the silent communion between them.
After several long moments, Martin stepped back. As if suddenly released from the same spell that had held Lauren, he moved quickly to open her cuffs. Turning back to Liam and Allie, he flashed a broad grin. “She’s pretty fucking amazing, isn’t she?” he asked with obvious pride.
“You got that right,” Liam agreed sincerely.
“Amazing,” Allie breathed. “Lauren? You back on planet Earth?”
Most of the onlookers had dispersed to find a more active scene. Lauren slowly turned her head. “Reluctantly,” she said and then sighed happily. “I wonder if that’s what heroin’s like. If so, I totally get it.” She gave a small laugh. “I’m glad submissive headspace doesn’t kill you.”
“Though it sure is addictive,” Allie replied. Her answering laugh, however, sounded brittle to Liam’s ears, and he turned to regard her more carefully. He could feel the tension in her body, and the edginess in her psyche. The caning had excited her, but it had also upset her, or perhaps more accurately, it had unbalanced her.
Martin, his arm around Lauren’s shoulders, said, “I’m going to take my girl to the recovery room. I want to treat her welts so they don’t scar.”
The four of them moved to the back of the club, stepping through a doorway into a room that contained several deep sofas, reading chairs, and three padded massage tables. Martin and Liam helped Lauren onto a table where she lay on her stomach, her cheek resting against the soft, padded leather. Her face was suffused with a kind of shiny, sleeping joy, as if lit from the inside out.
As Martin applied salve to Lauren’s welts, Allie crouched beside her. “Hey there,” she said softly. “That was quite a caning you took. I don’t think I could do that.”
Lauren smiled sleepily. “You totally could, Allie. Canes are just one of those weird trigger things of yours. Hell, I’ve seen you take a single tail lashing that left you with marks the rest of the week. If you can handle that, you can definitely handle a cane. I promise.”
Allie was quiet and Liam decided not to intervene. Lauren went on. “The cane is intense, sure. It stings like a bastard. But the pleasure you get from it, the masochistic high, is awesome. You’re like that kid on the high dive, terrified to make the jump, even though you know you want to. But once you do it, Allie, trust me. You’ll never want to come out of the water.”
Allie glanced up at Liam. He could still see the anxiety in her expression, and feel the tension in her body. “Sub Allie, I think you need to refocus.” He held out his hand and pulled Allie to her feet. “While Lauren recovers, I’m going to help you let go of some of this nonproductive stress you seem to be holding onto.”
~*~
Liam led Allie back into the main club area. Though Allie had only been witness to the caning, she felt as if she had just endured a very intense scene herself, but without the satisfaction and closure Lauren had clearly enjoyed.
Several scenes were going on around them as they moved through the club, and more people had arrived to fill the space. Whips cracked, voices cried out in passion and pain, often followed by murmured awe, laughter and even applause. The air was redolent with sweat, musk and excitement.
Liam led her to a free spanking bench. Allie’s ass tingled in anticipation. Yes, of course he’d known just what she needed, even when she herself did not.
She started to lie across the bench, but Liam stopped her. “Take off your skirt and panties,” he said with calm, quiet authority.
Allie instinctively darted her eyes around the room to see who might be watching them. Then she recalled herself and focused solely on Sir Liam. “Yes, Sir.” She reached behind for the zipper and drew it down her skirt. She dragged the skirt and her panties down her legs and stepped out of them. As she did this, Liam seated himself on the spanking bench and patted his lap.
Four men and two women had already gathered in front of them to watch whatever was going to unfold. Though Allie didn’t especially mind being naked in front of strangers, she was glad to lie over Liam’s lap, and moved quickly into position.
“Is she being punished?” one of the men asked, his hand not quite concealing the bulge at his crotch.
“She is being centered,” Sir Liam replied.
“You have nice, big hands,” one of the women said with a giggle. “You can center me anytime, baby.”
“I’ll center you, you little slut,” the man beside her said with a raucous laugh.
As at any BDSM club, there were always clueless people who didn’t appreciate that a public scene was a gift, not a circus. As if reading her mind and sharing her disapproval, Liam leaned over and murmured in her ear, “Ignore them. Focus on me. Focus on letting go.”
Allie turned her head so she faced away from the crowd. Liam stroked her bare ass, his other hand pressing gently on her lower back. He didn’t warm her up, but instead began to strike her with a firm, rhythmic hand. Each hard blow sent a wave of erotic pain through muscle and bone, reaching into the core of her.
As her ass heated, the skin tingling and alive, the toxic tension inside her began to unwind. Each steadying blow freed her a little more, until every last drop of tension had eased into a peaceful flow.
Sir Liam continued to spank her with one hand, but the other hand had slipped its way between her thighs. She jolted at the sudden, unexpected whisper of his fingers moving over her clit and labia. At his touch, a fire ignited deep in her gut, and her clit began to throb, her cunt soaked with need. In a delicious dichotomy of pleasure and pain, he both spanked and stroked her.
It wasn’t long before she began to shudder, the beginning of a climax mounting inside her in a rising wave. Even in the midst of the pleasure and pain, Allie marveled that she had spent a lifetime faking what now came so easily at the hands of this amazing man. It was no longer a matter of gearing herself up to make the right sounds and movements. Now it was a matter of holding on, of waiting until her Master gave her permission to let that wave crest into nearly unbearable pleasure.
She became aware of the sound of her own voice. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.” Liam’s palm and fingers moved in relentless tandem, drawing her ever closer to the edge of the abyss. She tried to form the words, to ask the permission necessary for release, but could only manage the first few words. “Please, may I…” before the chant reasserted itself. “Oh god, oh god, oh god…”
Thankfully, her merciful Master whispered in her ear as he continued to spank and tease her, “Yes, sub girl. You may.”
The sting of his palm spiraled against the rapid patter of his fingers at her sex. With a groan, her body arched and spasmed, caught in a powerful, thundering orgasm that obliterated everything in its path.
As the roaring in her ears slowly abated, Allie became aware of laughter and applause. Startled, she turned her head toward the sound. For a moment, she had completely forgotten where she was, or that an audience was watching this intimate moment between Liam and herself.
She twisted back to look at Liam, who flashed a grin at her. “I think they approve,” he said. “I know I do.”
He flipped her effortlessly in his strong arms and gathered her close, kissing her eyelids, her nose, the corner of her mouth. “I love you,” he whispered. “I may share the gift of your submission with others, but you belong to me. Don’t ever forget that.”
“No,” Allie breathed happily as she snuggled against him. “I won’t.”
Chapter 11
Though the flight from Boston landed on time in Portland, just as they were taxiing to the gate, they were steered away from the terminal to wait on the tarmac for some unknown reason. After five minutes or so, the captain came on the intercom and
mumbled nearly incoherently that, due to a construction accident outside one of the gates, they would be detained for ten or twenty minutes, or possibly more.
Allie, along with many of the passengers, groaned with frustration, but Liam just smiled. The aisle seat beside them was unoccupied. Allie sat in the window seat, Liam to her right. She was wearing a short skirt and Liam leaned over and said quietly, “Take off your panties and hand them to me.”
Though Allie hadn’t felt in the least sexy prior to this, his words sent her instantly to a submissive place. With a quick glance at the people directly across from them, all of whom were busy with their electronic devices, she lifted her hips and slid her panties down her legs. Bunching the bit of silk in her hand, she furtively passed it to her Dom.
Slipping it into the inner pocket of his sport jacket, Liam placed his left hand on Allie’s right knee and began to inch it up her thigh. She swallowed hard, but knew better than to protest.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered softly. “Give me access to what is mine.” Allie obeyed, biting her lip as she thought about being observed, though at the same time, her nipples and cunt tingled, alert with expectation and desire.
To her relief, Liam reached for the blanket he had requested earlier in the flight and draped it over their laps. Returning his hand between her thighs, he pressed the heel of his palm against her vulva as he slipped two fingers inside her.
Allie pressed her lips together in an effort to stifle her moan.
Liam murmured into her ear, “I’m going to make you come. You don’t have to ask permission. I don’t particularly mind if you make noise, but you might want to keep it down.”
“Easy for you to say,” Allie tried to retort, but the last word ended in a gasp as he began to move his hand in a sensual, steady rhythm against her sex. Again she pressed her lips tight, breathing hard through her nose as Liam stroked her beneath the blanket.
It didn’t take long for a climax to gather its spin inside her. She began to pant, perspiration dampening her forehead and throat. Liam moved his hand with expert and practiced ease as Allie squirmed and gasped beside him.
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