My Body-Mine

by Blakely Bennett

  I pouted and stewed in anger instead of giving the required response. He swatted my ass with his large open palm, causing a sting that got my attention.

  “Now we are up to twenty-five. Jane? Care to keep it going?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Good.”

  I counted out loud as I suffered my punishment. Although the spanking hurt, my body quickly turned it into the twisted pleasure that had my nipples and clit throbbing and begging for Marcello’s touch. His hard cock was equally engaged.

  “I’d love to screw the daylights out of you right now, but you need to eat and get ready for tonight, and I still have work to do.” He lifted me off his lap and, before sending me on my way, kissed me. As he devoured my mouth, biting on my bottom lip, he let me know that although we remained very much connected, he’d always retain control … my Dom.

  On my way to my room I rubbed my aching butt. Clearly, I’d never learn to hold my tongue. I had pretty much resolved myself to that fact. Angry Jane was also foul-mouthed Jane and neither my mother, nor Luke, nor Marcello could cure me of that.

  * * * *

  Stepping out of my bedroom with the black trench coat over my arm, I strolled into the living room to await Marcello. Janice sat on the brown leather couch closest to the door and beside the mini bar with a tumbler of liquor in hand.

  Her outfit matched mine—an under the breast black corset with a brown overlay leaf pattern. A dark brown leather strip hung from the bottom of the corset creating a loop where our black, back-seam stockings attached. The top and bottom, also trimmed in soft, rich leather, matched the brown studs on either side. The unique Venetian bronze fasteners inserted a point into a metal ring on the opposite panel. It had to be the most luxurious corset I had ever laid my eyes on, and on Janice, beyond stunning. Her ample breasts spilled over the top of the bindings, and her tan areolas and nipples were prominently displayed. Her long, shiny black hair flowed loosely to her waist, and she wore four-inch black heels identical to the ones I stood in now. I had worn them once before, during my first lessons with Marcello.

  “Can you cinch the stay-lace of the corset for me?” I asked. I never could seem to manage it myself.

  “Sure,” Janice said, and when she stood, her hour-glass figure showcased in all its glory, I gaped, astounded once again by her beauty. She had lined her dark cat eyes, bringing them to a point, and thickened her already lush lashes with mascara. The deep shiny red gloss on her lips made her mouth seem even more luscious. We wore matching black collars with brown studs and a D-ring in the front center. She too had donned the black G-string with metal studs covering the mound.

  I circled around to let Janice tighten my stays. “So … I hear you put your plan into action,” I said over my shoulder. “Did it work out as you’d hoped?”

  “Apparently not. I didn’t realize you’d be coming.” She yanked tightly and said, “Breathe out.”

  I took a deep breath in and then forced all the air out I could.

  “Is that tight enough?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I can’t take a full breath.” I peered down and could see that the corset pushed my breasts up, giving them a fuller appearance. My nipple piercings hung conspicuously from my large nipples. “You should know that I didn’t know I had to go until Sarah dropped off this ensemble, and I’m guessing I’m no happier about it than you. I thought I was exempt but apparently not.” I turned around and said, “You look amazing, Janice.”

  “Thank you. So do you. I’m jealous of your brown waves,” she said, and reached out to tug on one of my curls.

  I smiled and asked, “Do you know where we’re going or what is planned?”

  “I have only been informed to expect it to be unpleasant for me.”

  “You, who love pain? Doubtful.”

  “I have my limits like anyone else.”

  “Well, I hope it’s not too uncomfortable for you. At any rate, you were right about Aidan. Marcello didn’t fire him. What are you going to do for work?”

  “Work? My life? I don’t really know at this point, but I have to make something happen soon.” She shrugged and held her palms up toward the ceiling.

  “Do you plan to sort things out with Marcello?”

  “Do you want me to?” She fixed me with her gaze.

  “Absolutely. Janice, I love you and have no interest in your leaving. Not in the slightest.”

  “I’m expecting Marcello to propose to you any day.”

  “What the hell?! Why would you say that?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.

  “Let’s call it women’s intui—” Janice stopped mid-sentence as Marcello entered the room.

  Despite Janice’s troubling pronouncement, I couldn’t help but respond to Marcello’s presence. When he stepped up beside us, I immediately became aroused. Dressed in a black tux and shiny black shoes, he appeared more formidable than ever.

  “Bellissime, you both are so beautiful,” he said, running his eyes up and down our bodies to appreciate every nuance of his handiwork. “I’m hoping tonight will put us back on an even keel.”

  “More like stormy weather ahead,” Janice muttered under her breath.

  Either Marcello chose to ignore the comment or he just didn’t hear. He helped us into our short black trench coats and led us out to his car.

  Sitting up front with Marcello gave me the chance to ask him the question that had been nagging at me. “Did you go over to the beach house?”

  “No, why?” Marcello asked, as he turned onto the ramp heading south on I-95.

  “On Friday during my run I went by and noticed the couch inside had been turned.”

  “I see.” He merged into traffic and set the cruise control.

  “Is Luke back?”

  I could see Janice lean forward to better hear the conversation.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes? That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “What else is there to say?”

  “Did he ask about us? Janice and me?” One glance at Janice made me think she knew nothing about it.

  “Yes, and I told him you are both well.”

  “Has he come back? How long has he been here? Does he know I went over to the house? Does he plan to stay?”

  “I thought you said you were done with him,” Marcello stated, keeping his eyes on the road.

  “That doesn’t mean I’m not curious about him and what will happen with the house. I love that place. Did you tell him about my book?”

  “Yes, I told him that you’re about to be published. He is undecided about how long he’ll stay.”

  “Did you tell him about the content of the story?”

  “Jane, Luke knew what you were writing about when you were together,” Marcello said.

  “Right.” The new information had my thoughts spinning out of control. Luke was back.

  We spent the rest of the ride in strained silence. I lost all concern about the upcoming event and instead wondered if or when my path would once more collide with Luke’s.

  Marcello drove in next to a Ferrari on one side and a stretch limo parked along the edge of the rotunda. As we stepped out of the car, a friend of Marcello’s greeted us. He had purchased the monastery fifteen years ago and turned it into a BDSM Club for VIPs from around the world.

  Janice and I followed Marcello and the club owner through a heavy, metal gate and scampered to keep up along a lighted garden path that meandered past a large courtyard. The historical monastery added another twisted element to what I already expected to be a very strange night. The stone monolith heralded its Catholic roots, along with hand-carved stone arches and pillars.

  The only time God and I had any dealings with each other came via my foul language or in the throes of an orgasm, but even I found it blasphemous to hold an S&M event in such a place.

  The palm fronds danced around the Mediterranean architecture in the mild Florida wind. The open design allowed the breeze to flow through, and I could smell cigar smoke
in the air. Civilized strains of classical music filled the air as we approached the main venue.

  The walls, composed of irregularly shaped stone blocks, led up to a myriad of arches crisscrossing the ceiling. The lavish ornamentation combined with the BDSM racks, crosses, and other equipment made my heart pound, as did the ropes hanging from the center of the highest arch, and the dance pole off to the left of the entrance. The tuxedo-clad men outnumbered us two to one. I took note of three other women all dressed the same in black garters and red corsets, kneeling at the far right side with their arms bound behind them.

  “Keep your eyes downcast and don’t speak unless spoken to,” Marcello whispered to me as he removed our coats.

  “Yes, Sir,” I responded without a moment’s delay.

  Slow, gyrating jazz music began to play.

  “Janice, dance for us and disrobe,” Marcello ordered.

  All the Dominants and submissives gathered to watch Janice’s show. The three identically clad subs dropped to their knees once again as their Master whispered to them.

  Already envious of Janice’s luscious proportions, I grew awestruck as I watched her dance. I wondered if she had ever done so professionally. She strutted around the pole to the beat of the sensuous song, lingering and taking her time to make eye contact with every guest individually. Her generous bosom spilled over the top of her corset, and her dark nipples stood taut and erect. The round curves of her high buttocks were emphasized by her tightly drawn in waist. Facing the crowd, she stood behind the pole and simulated fucking the bar, sashaying side to side before kicking her shoes off into the attentive audience. She then spun about and shimmied down the pole with her back against it, spreading her legs wide as she crouched down at floor level.

  Rising again, she flung herself up and around, hooking her left knee and extending her right arm out as she spun in circles. She rotated down and lower still, until she finally placed her right foot on the ground.

  While I stood in awe of her remarkable dance, Marcello, without warning, came up from behind and hugged me tightly against him, startling me.

  “Standing Position Two,” he said loudly so I could hear him over the music. I spread my legs shoulder width apart and put my palms behind my neck and my elbows out to the side. He hugged me to him and began playing with my nipple piercings, tugging and twisting.

  “Hmmm.” I tried to keep the sound to myself but between Janice’s erotic movements and Marcello’s manipulations, my excitement kept climbing.

  Glancing to the left, I saw one of the subs, still on her knees but now facing her Dom, ravishing his large cock. Apparently Janice’s performance turned on the rest of the audience as well.

  With an erotic flare, Janice unhooked the snaps that kept the stocking in place. Extending one leg out in front of her, she bent over and methodically rolled down the stocking, all the while swiveling and shaking her ass in the air. She repeated the same move on the other side, always swaying in rhythm to the music.

  Next she reached around and untied her stays, managing to loosen them as she lost herself in sexual abandon. Spinning in circles, her hips gyrating, she unlatched the three hooks in the front and threw the corset right in front of Marcello and me.

  Wearing nothing but a G-string, Janice hooked her fingers on the sides and slowly bent over with her ass to the crowd. As the music began to slow, she finally stepped out of her panties and spun them on her right index finger. She flung them in the direction of Matt, who caught them easily.

  The audience of BDSM enthusiasts all applauded.

  Marcello left me and conferred with a group of men. I wondered if they were busy planning the next phase of Janice’s discipline. So far, her punishment seemed much easier than I’d anticipated.

  He made his way back over to me and said, “Go to Janice and braid her hair away from her face.” He handed me a hair tie and I did as instructed.

  “You are brave,” I whispered as I braided Janice’s silky black hair.

  “You could do the same,” she said.

  “Me? Not ever.”

  Marcello led Janice to the center of the room, where they fastened her wrists together with five revolutions of rope. Her position, arms pulled high overhead, forced her to stand on tiptoe. Four men I had never met circled her, each with a full-headed flogger in hand.

  They began to work in rhythm.

  Although expressly forbidden to make eye contact with any of the men, I couldn’t help but watch Janice being whipped by four Doms at once. It was a rather titillating, exotic sight—four men in tuxes administering her correction. They continually struck her body, from her neck to her feet, using the thick straps of leather. One man in particular liked focusing on her nipples, breasts and belly.

  “Present,” Marcello bellowed behind me.

  I had to lift myself up fully before I could bend over at the waist, but I quickly complied. Snatching the thin strip of material that made up my G-string to the side, he roughly penetrated me.

  “Would you like that to be you?” he grunted as he rammed into me.

  “No … Sir,” I replied. The rough material of Marcello’s pants slapped against my ass with each penetration. He pushed in and out of me and, although I remained wet and turned on, I found the environment rather distracting.

  Hearing a groan from Janice, I instinctively glanced up to see what had happened. Marcello gripped my hair, forcing my head toward him as he continued to pound into me. One man threw Janice’s leg up over his shoulder while the other men continued to abuse her, now striking her inner thighs and pussy with the floggers. She appeared to be drifting into subspace, her arousal evident.

  Marcello thrust one more time and slid out of my swollen pussy, zipping up his pants and walking away. “Now,” he called out to the men surrounding Janice.

  He led me to a couch on the right side of the room near a table that reminded me of one you’d find at a veterinarian’s office. A metal rectangle hovered above with hooks and pulleys that could be raised and lowered. A large brass hoop hung down from the center.

  I sat on Marcello’s lap and watched the shortest of the four men bind rope above and below Janice’s large orbs, including her upper arms. He twisted the rope between her breasts and wrapped it around her neck. Then they affixed both wrists tightly behind her and two of the other men hoisted her up on the table, laying her on her stomach.

  Marcello lifted me up and placed me down beside the couch and said, “Kneeling Position Three.

  I dropped down and knelt, clasping my hands behind me.

  He snapped his fingers and a tiny Asian woman stepped up to him. No words were exchanged as she unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants. He sat down again next to me as this new woman situated herself between his legs, fastening her mouth to his hard phallus.

  “Why?” I asked. Confusion flooded me and my breathing became shallow.

  “This could be you some day,” Marcello leaned down and spoke directly in my ear, not noticing my distress.

  Did I want this? Any of it? Oh fuck no … no! I shouted in my head.

  We continued to observe Janice’s bondage as I tried to avoid watching the blowjob Marcello enjoyed by the unknown woman. Angst roiled my stomach as I struggled to regain control over my emotions. Finally he pushed his fellator away and gestured for me to stand. Lifting me on his lap, he slid his hard phallus past my swollen labia. He distracted me by rotating his hips and tugging on my erect nipples.

  I heard Janice grunt in discomfort, and I noticed a red ball gag being strapped into place around her head. I continued to watch as they attached a rope to her right leg that forced her foot behind her. At that point I began to worry. They used a thicker rope to loop around her waist, wrapped just above the knee of her left leg and also at the ankle. Affixing the rope to the metal hoop, they raised her up so that just the top of her head could now rest on the table below. Her newest contortion made me feel claustrophobic, and my anxiety spiked. Janice hung upside down with her left leg
straight up while her right leg, affixed behind her, spread her pussy wide.

  More men trickled over from their play with the other subs. One clutched Janice’s nipples and set her swinging while he held firm to her nubs. I watched her breasts stretch as her motion rocked away from him. Another man began smacking her distended breasts.

  Nausea suddenly assaulted my stomach, and I no longer felt any pleasure in Marcello’s cock or touch.

  Three of the four original men resumed their flogging. I thought that they’d already doled out a whipping far harsher than any I had experienced at the hands of Marcello, and yet they escalated the penalty to a new level. They brought their arms up high, as far as they could extend, and slashed the leather full force against her thighs, back, ass, and cunt. Saliva dripped out of Janice’s mouth, and I could tell she cried out in pain behind the gag. Flashbacks of the last party at the beach house assailed me, and I became desperate to flee.

  Panic overwhelmed me as I tried to lift myself off Marcello’s lap but he held me down by my shoulders. “I can’t do this anymore,” I proclaimed. “This isn’t what I want.”

  “What?” he said, over the loud music and the noise of the crowd surrounding Janice.

  “Finito, Marcello,” I yelled with as much volume as I could manage.

  I could see his stunned expression as I forced myself from his lap.

  “Jane, stop!” he roared as he reached out to grab me, but I scampered quickly away, crossing to the stack of coats by the entrance. Pulling on his pants, Marcello shouted, “Jane, get back here this instant!”

  Turning to face him across the distance, I shook my head sadly in his direction. I felt gutted, defeated, and scared, but along with that came clarity. I had to leave.

  “Mark my words; you are crossing a line you don’t want to cross,” he bellowed after me, as I turned toward the entrance.

  Quickly sorting through the coats, I prayed to the god I don’t believe in. Please, please, please, let me find mine fast. Locating a short trench, I checked to see if the pocket held my cellphone. Vastly relieved, I threw the jacket around me.