“It’s okay, Shea,” Zach said, his expression at once kind and amused. “We’re not going to eat you up, I promise.”
“Nudity is a part of submission,” Steve added. “It’s a demonstration of your willingness to offer yourself without barriers, without placing obstacles like clothing between you and your trainers. This shyness of yours will definitely be a focus in your initial training. You will learn quickly that modesty has no place in a D/s relationship.”
D/s relationship.
Dominance and submission.
Just the words sent a jolt of fear and desire through Shea. The R word was another matter, but she understood he meant the relationship of a trainer and sub, nothing more.
Intellectually, she appreciated Steve’s comment about modesty and no barriers. And if she were a size six, or even a size ten, she was sure she’d be a lot more comfortable with the whole concept of nudity. There was no getting around it—things were easier for the skinny girls. They breezed through life, everything good handed to them on a platter. This injustice made her think about Oreos, but, to her surprise, she didn’t even want one.
She wanted to be here, doing this, as hard as it was, as scary as it was.
“Come on over to the kneeling pad,” Master Zach said, gesturing for her to follow them to the mat in front of the couch.
They took their seats on the sofa in the same positions as on Monday night, while Shea stepped onto the black mat.
“Get on your knees,” Sir Stephen commanded. “Back straight, hands resting on your thighs, chin up.”
Shea hesitated, wondering if she’d looked fatter standing or kneeling. Stop it, she ordered herself. Do as you’re told.
With their eyes on her, she lowered herself as gracefully she could to the mat and placed her hands on her thighs.
“Spread your knees wider,” Sir Stephen said. “Show us your cunt.”
Heat spread yet again over Shea’s cheeks, moving down her throat and up through the roots of her hair. Their casual use of the word cunt still startled her, though it didn’t offend her. While she didn’t like when men used the word as an epithet to put a woman down, she secretly liked the term better than pussy for her private parts.
Cunt was so earthy, so immediate, so…sexual.
Liking the word was one thing—being asked to expose herself like that in front of the two fully-clothed men was quite another.
Modesty has no place in a D/s relationship.
They were both boring holes into her with their eyes. While Master Zach’s expression was patient, if amused, Sir Stephen’s gaze was like a laser, probing into all her deepest secrets.
Determined to obey, Shea forced her knees to spread until her denuded pussy—her cunt—was exposed to their scrutiny.
Master Zach leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “So, from our time together so far,” he said, “we’ve learned you’re masochistic and crave erotic pain, but we don’t have a real sense of your submissive tendencies. I guess my first question would be, what does being submissive mean to you? Is it just allowing yourself to be tied up and whipped, or is there more at play for you?” He let his gaze move slowly down her body, his eyes hooding as he stared at her shaven, exposed cunt.
Her face hot, Shea glanced from Master Zach to Sir Stephen. His eyes were fixed on her face as he regarded her with an intense, narrow-eyed gaze, as if he were reading and weighing her thoughts.
Shea struggled to pick the right words from the jumble in her mind. Finally drawing on her research, she said, “I know submission is also about obedience and service. It’s about relinquishing control. It’s about giving yourself fully to your Master, without reservation.”
“Okay,” Master Zach said. “And what does it mean for you? Just say whatever pops into your head—forget about what you think we expect. When you hear the words obedience, service, control, how does that make you feel?”
“Sexy,” Shea admitted. “Excited. Vulnerable. Scared.” Her nipples tingled, and though she didn’t look down, she knew they were jutting forward like gumdrops.
“Go on,” Master Zach urged gently. “Imagine yourself tied down, rope wrapped tightly around your body, binding your wrists, your ankles, your thighs, your breasts. You aren’t resisting, or blushing, or thinking anything at all except how you can please your Master—how you can suffer for his pleasure, submit to his commands. You’re exposed, your legs spread wide, your cunt offered for your Master’s whip, or his kiss, or his cock…”
“Oh,” Shea whispered, the word yanked from her by the picture he painted. Her cunt felt swollen, her clit throbbing.
“Do you want that, Shea?” Master Zach murmured, his voice low and throaty. “Are you prepared to do whatever it takes to get to that place?”
“Yes,” Shea managed, her voice suddenly hoarse, though in fact she had no idea if she was up to the challenge, or what it truly entailed. She cleared her throat and repeated, “Yes. Yes, please, Master Zach.”
He smiled, the playfulness she’d grown used to in his grin no longer there, replaced by something harder and infinitely sexier.
Sir Stephen, his eyes still on Shea’s face, said quietly, “Fantasy is one thing, Shea. Reality is quite another. We will put you to the test, but remember, there is no failure, only a learning curve we expect you to climb. We will both encourage and correct you as needed as we move further into the process.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. She wished the interview would end—though terrified, she was also longing for what they offered. She was ready for that promised rope. She’d been waiting a lifetime.
“Normally at this early stage in a sub’s training,” Sir Stephen continued, “we would discuss your hard limits and your goals, but I’m guessing you don’t really know yourself at this point. Would you agree?”
“Yes, Sir. Completely,” Shea blurted, relief and gratitude flooding her at the realization he was taking control—no more questions, no more probing into thoughts and fantasies she could barely articulate, even to herself.
The two Doms exchanged a glance and then both rose to their feet. Sir Stephen leaned down and tapped Shea’s shoulder. “That tap on the shoulder indicates release from whatever position you are in, and is your cue to stand.”
Shea got to her feet, and the guys led her to the bondage table, which was set on four thick, sturdy legs. Approximately three feet wide and eight feet long, it was covered in black leather, metal rings embedded around the perimeter of the thickly padded tabletop.
Master Zach reached beneath the table and brought up a triangular pillow wedge wrapped in a black cotton pillowcase. “Lie down on your back on the table, and then I’m going to put this under your ass,” he instructed.
Shea sat on the edge of the table and then maneuvered herself back so she was lying down as instructed. She was relieved to be lying down, as her legs had turned to rubber as they’d led her to the table.
“Lift your ass,” Master Zach instructed, nudging at her thigh with the pillow wedge. Shea obeyed, and Master Zach slid the pillow beneath her, which forced her pelvis up higher than the rest of her body.
Sir Stephen produced several hanks of thick rope that had been dyed a rich, deep red. “Sometimes we just use cuffs, but for today’s exercise, I want you to feel the rope.”
He unwrapped a hank of rope and wound it around her right wrist. He knotted it in place and took the free end, which he wrapped around one of the rings at the head of the table, adjusting it until her arm was fully extended over her head. He did the same with her second wrist until both arms were completely immobilized.
“How does that feel?” he asked, tugging gently at one of the ropes. “Too tight? Too loose?”
Shea pulled at the restraints. “It’s good, Sir,” she breathed, stunned at the rightness of the smooth, supple rope against her skin.
Master Zach, standing at the base of the table, wrapped and knotted rope around her ankles, tying them off to rings on either side of the table so her legs we
re spread wide, her naked cunt raised by the wedge and on full display. She was completely helpless at the hands of these two men she barely knew, but somehow instinctively trusted. The feeling was at once terrifying and more thrilling than any she’d ever known.
“Sweet,” Master Zach said, drawing out the word, his eyes glittering as he stared down at her.
“But it needs something more,” Sir Stephen said from her other side. Bending down, he reached beneath the table and produced another hank of rope, also dyed red, but thinner. This he wrapped around Shea’s breasts, winding it in a tight figure eight, bunching them together so they stood like cherry-topped mounds on her chest. She could feel the pressure building in her breast tissue. It was both incredibly erotic and a little scary.
Sir Stephen leaned down and spoke softly into her ear. “You’re at our mercy now, Shea. How does it feel?”
“Perfect, Sir,” she blurted before she could stop herself. But why should she stop herself? It was true.
He smiled, a wicked smile that sent a jolt of icy, delicious fear through her veins. “Good. That’s just how it should feel. Now, we’re going to test your sexual responsiveness. The only thing you need to remember is to ask for permission to come, as, while you’re in this dungeon, we own your orgasms. Is that clear?”
Shea’s heart, which had already been beating plenty fast, began to hammer violently in her chest. Was now when she admitted just how little experience she actually had? She opened her mouth to confess, but no words came. It was too late to back out now, and really, beyond the fear and uncertainty, the desire was welling inside her, rising like a wave she could no longer, and no longer wanted to, resist.
All she could do was nod.
~*~
Christ, she was gorgeous lying there with her hair tumbling around her face in a riot of red against the rich black leather of the bondage table. Her cheeks were flushed, her nipples dark pink and fully distended. Her breasts, bound in the tight rope, were also darkening with trapped blood, though he’d been careful not to tie them so tightly as to cut off circulation. Steve could smell the heady, rich scent of female arousal, and his mouth actually watered at the thought of tasting her.
But what he loved most was the fear in her eyes—the helpless, pleading look that made his balls ache and his cock throb. As he stared down at Shea, naked and bound in all her voluptuous beauty, he had to restrain himself from climbing on top of her and entering her with a single, savage thrust.
He did no such thing, of course, and not just because Zach was standing at the other end of the table. Shea was not there as his toy, he reminded himself sternly, but as his trainee, as their trainee. They were testing her sexual responsiveness so they could better design her training program. He was a professional.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
Fortunately, Zach was on the case, which gave Steve a chance to get himself under control. It was good they’d agreed in advance that Zach would be the one to stimulate her, since Steve still wasn’t sure he could have controlled himself.
Zach stood at the end of the table between Shea’s spread legs, holding the tube of lubricant he’d pulled from the storage bin they kept beneath the bondage table. He pushed up the plastic lid and squirted some gel onto his fingers. Setting the tube aside, he leaned forward and lightly stroked the dark pink petals of her labia while Steve looked on.
Shea closed her eyes and moaned, the sound low and feral.
Zach and Steve exchanged a glance, silently communicating their approval. Zach continued to stroke and tease her until she began to tremble, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her hands clenched into fists overhead.
Steve tapped her fists with his index fingers. “Relax your hands. Fists are a sign of resistance.”
Shea’s eyes opened and she stared up at him with apparent incomprehension.
“Relax.” He tapped her fists again, and this time they slowly unfurled.
Satisfied, Steve glanced again at Zach, who gave a nod. Taking two fingers, Zach pushed them slowly into Shea’s cunt.
Shea jerked hard against her restraints as she emitted a startled yelp.
Zach, his fingers still inside her, soothed, “Take it easy, Shea. It’s all good. You’re doing great.”
She fixed a wild-eyed gaze on Steve, who bent over her with some concern. “What’s the matter? Is he hurting you?”
She shook her head and moved her lips, as if trying to speak, but no sound came, save for a groan that ended in a sigh as her eyes fluttered shut once more.
Glancing back at Zach, Steve saw he was moving his fingers inside the girl, no doubt stimulating her G-spot, based on her reaction.
Using his other hand, Zach rubbed two fingers in a circle over and around Shea’s clit while he continued to finger-fuck her. Shea began to tremble again, her entire body shuddering as she moaned and pulled against the ropes that held her down.
Jesus, was she going to come already? Steve allowed himself a chuckle—the shy ones were so often the most responsive, and Shea was no exception.
“Permission,” he reminded her, leaning down. “You must ask for permission.”
“Please!” she cried, bucking now against her restraints as Zach relentlessly stroked and frigged her. “Can I, oh, god, oh, yes, please, can I cooo…” The incomplete word rolled into another low, throaty moan, followed by a series of agitated yips.
Zach let his hands fall away, which produced a series of aftershocks in the bound, naked girl. “Oops,” he said, grinning at Steve. “I think we have a naughty girl on our hands. Someone came before they had permission.”
Shea’s eyes flew open, and Steve knew, if her hands had been free, they would have flown to her mouth. “Oh, Sir!” she cried. “I tried to ask. I did. It just, I don’t know, it swept over me. I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life.”
Something in her expression and the fervent tone of her words drew Steve up a little short. “Anything?” he echoed, staring down at her to read her face. “Are you saying that’s the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had at the hands of another?”
The girl, who seemed to have an endless capacity to blush, turned scarlet as she mumbled something he couldn’t understand.
“What’s that?” he said more sharply than he’d intended. “Speak up.”
“I said,” she replied, though it was clearly hard for her to say the words. “That’s the first orgasm I’ve ever had at the hands of another, Sir.”
Wait.
What?
Chapter 5
It was on the tip of Steve’s tongue to demand further explanation, but something in Zach’s expression, along with the slight shake of his head, told Steve to wait. As he released Shea from her restraints and helped her to a sitting position, Steve recognized that Zach was correct, as usual. Better to keep the momentum of the session going. There was time later to delve into Shea’s sexual experience, or lack thereof.
As he unwound the ropes from her breasts, he informed her, “You came without permission, and that calls for punishment.”
“Punishment…Sir?” Shea murmured, the dismay evident on her face.
Steve nodded. “Don’t add to your infractions by questioning me, S.”
Shea slapped her hand against her mouth with almost comical alacrity.
By making her wait until the end of the session for her punishment, her anticipation would build, along with her anxiety and arousal. Such was the predicament of a masochist. Thinking about this gave Steve an idea. “Before your punishment, we’re going to have a lesson in anticipation. I want you to lie down again. Place your arms at your sides and bend your knees so your feet are flat against the table. During this exercise, you’re free to cry out, but you may not lift your hands to stop us, or impede us in any way. Are we clear, so far?”
Shea swallowed visibly, but nodded as she replied, “Yes, Sir Stephen.”
“Your main goal in this exercise,” Zach said, picking up the thread, “is to accept what’s gi
ven to you without trying to anticipate or resist it in any way. You’re working on acceptance—on taking what your Dom gives you without trying to control or top from the bottom.”
“That means you don’t tense up or flinch or wince or protest,” Steve continued. “You accept what we give you. All you have to do is lie there and take it.”
He could almost hear her unspoken thought—Easy for you to say—as the emotions flickered over her face, but she said nothing.
Steve turned to Zach. “You want to select your toys first?”
With a nod, Zach went to the supply counter, returning a second later with a black satin sleep mask and a pair of black leather gloves. Not just any gloves, these were one of Taggart Fitzgerald’s most popular custom pieces. The lined leather hid the prickly metal points embedded between the layers at strategic spots in the palms and fingertips. It was an excellent tool for sensation play, its touch sharp enough to elicit a gasp and leave a mark, but not so sharp as to cut the skin.
Zach handed the mask to Steve and then pulled on the gloves while Shea watched with wide eyes. “I think you’ll like these gloves,” Zach said. “They’re special.” He drew a gloved finger over the surface of her right breast, leaving a faint pink mark in its wake and pulling a gasp of startled surprise from the girl’s lips.
“Things aren’t always what they seem,” Steve murmured. “We’ll be exposing you to a number of different sensations during this exercise.” He held out the sleep mask. “To help you focus, you’ll be blindfolded. We want you to fully experience all the sensations without trying to anticipate them. Just accept what is given to you,” he reiterated as he slipped the mask into place over her eyes. “Can you do that, S?”
“I hope so, Sir,” she replied in a slightly tremulous voice.
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