The Keyholder

by Claire Thompson

  Standing in front of her, he showed Eva the strap. All his sadistic impulses were operating at full throttle, and he couldn’t wait to begin. “I’m going to turn your cute little butt a nice cherry red. Would that suit you, sub girl?” he queried.

  She eyed the thick, black leather strap, her tongue moving sensually over her lower lip. Jack thrilled to her obvious longing. “Yes, Master Jack,” she said throatily. He brought the strap close to her mouth and she understood what he wanted. She kissed the leather.

  Jack moved behind her and assumed his position to the side so he could get a good angle as he swung. He started lightly, warming her skin and gauging her tolerance. The first real blow brought a small grunt from her, but she held her ground, her feet flat, her hands loose and unclenched in the stocks.

  Each thwacking stroke echoed in the air, the sensual, heady sound of leather marking flesh. Her ass cheeks jiggled with each blow, and Jack’s cock tingled with longing. He kept the strokes steady and even, not too hard, but not too soft either, covering both globes. Her skin changed from cream to pink to red. He kept going until she began to pant, her breath punctuated with mewling sounds, like a woman on the edge of orgasm.

  He leaned in to Eva. “I want to give you five more, sub girl. Hard ones. Can you take it for me?”

  “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir,” she panted.

  Thrilled, Jack stepped back. “One.”

  Despite the second’s warning, Eva cried out when the first blow landed, harder than any that had come before. Though her ass was already red, the stroke left a darker red rectangle over her left cheek.

  “Two.” This time she was ready, though she still gasped.

  “Three.”

  “Fuck,” she breathed, shifting in her restraints so that the stocks gently swayed.

  Jack paused. He didn’t yet know her rhythms or her full tolerance, though it was clear she could take a lot. “Can you finish,” he asked. “Two more?”

  “Yes,” she managed, though she was breathing hard. “Yes, Sir. Please.”

  “Four.” He struck her at the base of her ass, where it met her left thigh. She danced on her toes. “Five.” He struck the other side in the same spot. She hissed her pain, but maintained her position.

  Jack dropped the strap to the floor and moved quickly, releasing the bolt and lifting the stocks. He reached for Eva and pulled her upright, spinning her gently toward him so he could take her into his arms.

  He lifted her and cradled her close to his chest. “You were wonderful,” he said sincerely. “I’m so proud of you. Are you okay? Was it too much for the first time?”

  Eva gazed up at him. There were tears on her cheeks, but she was smiling, her face glowing with submissive happiness and masochistic pleasure. “No, not too much, Master Jack. It was just right. Just what I needed. Thank you, Sir. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  Jack carried Eva to the couch and sat down with her still in his arms. Her ass was hot against his thighs. He told himself he wasn’t going to spank her because that would be too much right now—he didn’t want to leave bruises on already tender flesh. But the truth was he couldn’t wait another minute to fully claim her for his own. He couldn’t wait another second.

  “I have to have you,” he growled, giving in at last to his lust. “I will make you mine.”

  “I’m already yours, Sir. I’ve been yours since the moment I saw you.” The words echoed in Jack’s memory, as if from a dream.

  “And I, yours,” he replied, his heart cracking with love. He laid her gently on the couch and rose over her. Grabbing his pants from where they lay, he yanked his wallet from the back pocket and retrieved a condom. Tearing open the wrapper, he slipped it quickly over his erection.

  Kneeling between her thighs, he positioned the head of his cock at her cleft. She was wet and clearly ready for him, but he forced himself to go slowly, not wanting to tear the delicate skin at her entrance.

  She reached up, her hands sliding behind his neck to pull him to her. He slid easily into the tight, wet heat of her cunt. Almost at once she began to arch and buck beneath him like a wild thing, her vaginal muscles spasming around his shaft like a thousand perfect fingers.

  He’d had a vague fantasy of fucking her slowly, taking her sensually to the edge over and over again until she begged for mercy, but he already knew the cause was lost. “Oh god,” he groaned. “It’s too fucking good, Eva. I’m not going to be able to last. I’m going to come if you don’t slow down.”

  “Come for me,” she cried without a trace of submission in her tone. She twisted her hips, causing a spiral of nearly unbearable pleasure to ripple through his core. “Show me that you’re mine.”

  Unable to resist, desperately, eagerly, Jack obeyed.

  Chapter 15

  Eva sat between Jack and Nora, back straight and head held high. Both Jack and Nora reached for one of Eva’s hands as they watched the jury file back into the courtroom. She squeezed them both gratefully.

  From where they sat, Eva had a good view of Blake Stanton, aka Phillip Duncan. He was still model-handsome, with his fine, even features, wavy blond hair and broad shoulders. He was dressed in a sober, dark suit, his tie perfectly knotted, his hands resting casually one on top of the other on the defense table.

  But on closer examination, his skin looked pasty, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes, a small muscle jumping in his jaw. The trial had taken two days, and by the end, his mask of cocky, self-assured arrogance finally seemed to be slipping.

  Though the trial process had been harrowing for Eva to endure, it had also been vindicating. The DA had objected each time the defense attorney attempted to twist the facts to imply that Eva, because of her involvement in BDSM and the nature of the job for which she’d been applying, was somehow complicit, or had even overtly consented to what her abductor had done to her.

  To his credit, the judge upheld each objection, and eventually instructed the defense attorney to stop that line of questioning or find himself in jail for contempt of court. Eva had studiously avoided looking at Blake Stanton during her testimony on the witness stand, instead keeping her gaze firmly on whoever was questioning her.

  Even so, it had been painfully difficult to relate the events of what had happened to her and to answer the sometimes deeply personal and invasive questions asked of her. As she girded herself to respond, she would look out toward where Jack, Nora and the other keyholders were sitting. She could feel Jack’s strength and love radiating toward her like a force field, and it gave her the courage she needed to push through.

  She was shocked to learn during the trial that Stanton had actually had the gall to self-publish a book that was basically a treatise on training “non-compliant” submissives. Though the defense attorney staunchly insisted the book was a work of fiction, it was permitted as evidence to show the defendant’s penchant for non-consensual BDSM. Ironically, though she’d remained stoically quiet during the proceedings, seeing the photo of the young woman on the cover, with her shaved head and hollow eyes, had caused Eva to utter a cry that had made all eyes in the court turn toward her. Jack had pulled her close, shielding her as she hid her face against his chest. The thought that Stanton might have done this to others, too, made it that much more horrific.

  Now the jurors took their seats in the hushed courtroom. The forewoman stood, a piece of paper in her hands. The judge spoke. “Have you reached a verdict?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, we have.”

  “And what is your verdict?”

  The forewoman stared down at her piece of paper. “We, the jury, find Blake Stanton, the accused, guilty of all charges.” She went on to list each charge specifically, adding, “guilty as charged” after each one. As she spoke, all eyes were fixed on her, but Eva was watching Blake Stanton.

  As if he felt her gaze, he turned his head slowly and fixed her with a malevolent stare. Bitch, he mouthed, his face twisted into a rictus of fury.

  Eva’s initial impulse was to
hide her face against Jack’s shoulder to escape her tormentor’s wrath. But she forced herself to hold Stanton’s gaze. He no longer had any power to make her tremble or cry out with fear and pain. What he had done, despite the defense attorney’s attempt to paint it otherwise, had zero to do with loving, consensual BDSM. The man was a brutal, twisted, pathetic excuse for a human being, beneath Eva’s contempt.

  As the forewoman read the verdict, Eva felt the last vestiges of any lingering fear fall away from her, like brittle chains breaking apart. Her eyes still on Stanton, she lifted her chin in defiance and mouthed silently back, Fuck you, asshole.

  The look of outraged shock on his face nearly made her laugh out loud.

  ~*~

  The first snow of the season had started to fall, and Nora pulled her coat tighter around herself as she and Charles walked up the path to Hawthorne Dungeon. It had been nearly a month since the trial that put Blake Stanton behind bars for many years to come. Eva was doing wonderfully well, and she and Jack were now a definite item.

  Though Nora had stayed in touch with Eva via phone and text, as well as a few quick lunches when she could fit them in, work and other obligations had gotten in the way of fun. Happily, they were rectifying the situation tonight.

  Charles used his key to open the front door and the two of them stepped into the welcoming warmth of the large front hall. “Jack and Eva are already up in the main dungeon,” Charles said as he helped Nora remove her coat. She could feel the change in his demeanor as he let the mantle of his dominance fall over them both. She loved the aura of power and control that emanated from him as he slipped into Master mode, his voice deepening, his eyes sparking with erotic energy.

  Nora felt sexy in the black satin corset, lace thong panties and sheer black stockings, her feet shod in the sexy high-heeled boots Charles had brought home as a surprise gift. As they were dressing for the evening, she’d joked that she felt more like a Mistress than a sub in the outfit.

  “That’s a good thing,” Charles had replied. “That’s exactly how I want you to feel tonight.”

  “Oh!” Nora exclaimed, excited at the prospect. Was tonight the night? Over the past year or so, as she’d watched and participated in scenes both here in the dungeon and at the clubs they frequented, Nora had sometimes fantasized about dominating another submissive. She was aroused by the idea of spanking or whipping another sub girl, under the direction and tutelage of her Master, of course. When she’d broached the idea with Charles, he’d agreed it would be fun to explore in that direction, but insisted she first learn how to use the tools of the trade.

  “You have the advantage over many Doms,” he’d said, “in that you are well acquainted with precisely what it feels like to be subjected to erotic torture of all flavors. Once we get you up to speed on the actual mechanics of delivering safe but boundary-pushing erotic torture, you’ll be well on your way to becoming a first-class switch.”

  Nora found she quite liked the idea, though her dominant feeling extended only to other female submissives. She had no desire to dominate her Master, which, he assured her with a laugh, was a good thing, as that would never happen.

  When they entered the main dungeon, Eva was kneeling up on a yoga mat in the center of the room. She was naked, save for a pair of lacy white panties and a leather slave collar dyed a rich burgundy red. Her hair had grown in enough to reveal its thick, lustrous nature, glimmering gold in the muted dungeon light. Gone was all trace of the tortured, terrified girl they’d rescued from the attic. A serene, lovely young woman knelt in her place, her slender body proud and erect, her eyes submissively downcast. Jack stood just behind her, his large hand resting proprietarily on her bare shoulder. Though not as handsome as her husband, at least not to Nora, she had to admit Jack looked very fine indeed, decked out as he was in black leather pants, his smooth, muscular chest bare beneath a matching black leather vest.

  “Kneel as you are in corset and boots beside your sister sub,” Charles instructed, and Nora moved quickly to obey. Though Eva remained perfectly still as Nora assumed her position next to her, she could easily read both Eva’s excitement and her nervousness.

  The two men exchanged a few pleasantries, then Charles said in his deep, sexy Dom voice, “Sub Nora, for the duration of the evening, do you agree to submit to Master Jack as if you were his property, as well as mine?”

  Thrilled to her core, Nora forced her voice to remain calm and steady as she replied, “Yes, Sir.”

  “And you, Eva,” Jack added. “Do you agree to submit to Master Charles as if you belonged to him, as well as me?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Eva replied, stealing a nervous glance at Nora, who flashed her a quick, encouraging smile.

  “Sub Eva,” Charles said, his eyes moving appreciatively over Eva’s bare torso, “Master Jack and I have agreed that tonight my sub girl is going to be your Mistress. I’ve been working with her to make sure she’s expert with the whip, flogger, paddle and cane. Tonight we put her dominant capabilities to the test.”

  “That’s right,” Jack said, picking up the narrative, his focus on Nora. “Eva’s safeword is red light.”

  “Red light,” Nora repeated with a nod.

  “You may go to the whip rack to select what you’d like Nora to use on your sweet little ass,” Jack continued, addressing Eva. “Once you’ve selected your whip of choice, you will kneel before Mistress Nora and offer yourself with grace. Is that understood, my sweet sub girl?”

  Eva had flushed a pleasing pink, and Nora felt an answering heat rising inside her. At Charles’ signal, Nora stood while Eva went to the whip rack. The men moved to a couch set just off the main play area and sat down to watch the scene.

  Eva returned to Nora, holding a cane. She knelt in front of Nora and balanced the thin rod on her upturned palms in perfect submissive form. Though Nora would have preferred to use a flogger her first time out, Charles had drilled her carefully on correct cane usage, and she felt up to the task.

  In preparation for just such a scene, Nora had practiced first on pillows and pieces of paper hung from a clothesline until Charles felt she’d mastered the basics. Charles was of the school of thought that a Dominant should never do to their submissive anything they themselves had not experienced firsthand, and the cane was no exception. Thus, as her final test, Nora had painted several red welts on her Master’s sexy ass.

  Now Nora took the offered cane from Eva’s hands. She closed her eyes a moment, letting the dominant power that normally lay dormant inside her rise to the fore. She opened her eyes, as ready as she was going to be. “Stand up. When I tell you, you will turn your back to me,” Nora instructed her sub girl. “You will stand in an at-ease position with your arms behind your head.”

  Nora glanced at her Master, who gave her an encouraging nod. Turning back to Eva, she continued, “First I’ll warm up your skin. When I tell you it’s time, you will count for me, sub Eva. Ten strokes. You will not move out of position during the caning. You will kneel and thank me afterward. Are we clear?”

  Eva took in a bushel of air and blew it out slowly. Tension moved like a live wire between them, though Nora also sensed the other woman’s desire. “Courage,” Nora whispered with a quick smile. “I know you can do this.” She sent calming energy in Eva’s direction.

  After a moment, Eva’s shoulders lowered their hunch, her expression smoothing. “Yes, Mistress Nora,” she replied in a low voice.

  Nora nodded her approval. “Okay, then. Assume your position.” Her pulse quickened as she whipped the cane experimentally in the air. Eva turned slowly until her back was to Nora. Concentrating, Nora began to tap Eva’s round, pert bottom with the side of the cane. Her strokes were light and sure as she covered the surface area evenly, coloring the pale skin a soft pink. She could feel Eva’s tension slowly easing as the sub girl’s skin was warmed, her masochistic pleasure centers stoked by the cane.

  Nora glanced again at the men. Both Jack and Charles were leaning forward, their expre
ssions rapt. Charles, noticing Nora’s gaze, lifted his thumb to show his approval and smiled at her. Encouraged, Nora said, “I’m going to give you ten strokes, sub Eva. You will count for me.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” Eva said throatily.

  Nora stepped slightly to the side, angled her wrist just so, and struck the first blow.

  “One,” Eva yelped, jumping slightly. A long white line rose horizontally over both ass cheeks, turning quickly to dark pink. The thrill of power zinged through Nora like a drug. Her heart was beating like a drum, her nipples hard as marbles, her pussy moist with desire.

  The second stroke landed just above the first. “Two!” Eva cried, but this time she managed to remain still. “Three! Four! Five!” Eva was breathing fast, her shoulders rising and falling with the effort, the calm of a moment before clearly shaken.

  Nora paused and placed her hand comfortingly on the back of Eva’s neck. “Slow your breathing,” she admonished gently as Master Charles had reminded her many times before. “Remember your grace. You’re doing really well, Eva. Only five to go. You can do it.” She kept her hand on Eva’s neck, aware firsthand of the calming effect of skin on skin. She waited several long beats until she felt Eva begin to relax. “Are you ready to continue?” Nora asked softly, her cane arm twitching to finish the task she’d begun.

  “Yes, Mistress,” Eva said, her voice steady. “Please, Mistress.”

  Nora let the cane fall once more, her confidence rising. “Six!” Eva cried. “Seven… Eight… Nine… Oooooh…”

  Eva’s ass was beautifully striped with red welts. Nora stepped to the side to see Eva’s face. She could feel the men’s eyes intent on them both. Eva’s breathing had slowed and deepened. Her muscles were relaxed, her head tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted. There was no question about it—Eva had entered the hallowed and sacred halls of submissive headspace. She was flying.