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Subspace Page 7

by Sierra Cartwright


  Freshened, shaved, her hair styled as much as possible without her sprays and gels, she lowered herself to all fours and crawled out to greet her Doms.

  Except for the fact that a box of condoms sat on the mantel and she was naked on the floor, this could be any ordinary Saturday afternoon.

  Now that she was here, her clit still swollen from the vibrator, her asshole gaping, in front of the two men who were fully dressed, her mouth dried.

  She did what she knew she was supposed to. She got into position—on her knees, shoulders straight, hands at the small of her back, her legs wide. Silently she waited.

  “Present your pussy and ass for inspection,” Master Rafael told her.

  Her heart thundered, the sound pounding in her ears. She lay on her back with her legs wide, her pelvis lifted from the floor.

  “Master Eric, if you will.”

  Master Eric crouched next to her. With the same dispassionate interest as Master Rafael had shown, he used one hand to part her labia.

  Suddenly she was no longer nervous.

  She could trust the men to instruct her how to behave.

  He skimmed a finger around her pussy, checking for errant hair. “Lovely.” Using moisture from her damp pussy for lubrication, he inserted a finger effortlessly into her anus. “Very lovely.”

  “Well, Master Eric?”

  “Your sub seems to have followed your instructions perfectly.”

  “Lucky for her. Back into the bedroom, sub.”

  Anticipation zinged through her. The thorough inspection had aroused her. She liked this.

  The men followed her into the bedroom.

  “On the bed,” Master Rafael instructed.

  “In what position, Sir?”

  “On your back so I can eat your pussy.”

  “Oh.” Her breath whooshed out.

  She stared shamelessly as the men undressed, Master Rafael in his careless way, Master Eric in his meticulous manner. Both men had erect cocks. And this was the first time she would have them both simultaneously.

  In moments, they joined her.

  Master Rafael lay on his stomach, parted her labia, pulled back the tiny hood on her clit then licked the tender flesh.

  She dug her heels into the mattress, seeking more.

  Master Eric knelt next to her, his magnificent manhood jutting towards her. Without asking permission, she took hold of him and stroked his length firmly. He grunted and gripped her breasts, squeezing her nipples deliberately as Master Rafael licked her and fucked her pussy with his tongue.

  “Sirs! Yellow! Please, yellow.”

  They backed off, letting her regain her composure before continuing their assault. Having four hands on her, along with Master Rafael’s skilful mouth, drove her mad, to the brink again and again.

  “Please,” she begged. “I need you, Sirs.”

  She was aware of the two men looking at each other.

  Master Eric handed her a condom and told her, “Put it on me.”

  She’d never done that before, but she doubted either man would accept that as an excuse for her to refuse.

  Master Rafael continued relentlessly licking her while she rolled the condom down Master Eric’s turgid cock.

  The reality of what was going to happen nipped at the edges of her sanity. If she weren’t so turned on, she might panic.

  Master Eric adjusted the latex and then lay on his back next to her. “Get on top of me.”

  Meaning Master Rafael was going to be the one to take her up the rear.

  She reluctantly moved. She would have been happy to let Master Rafael eat her pussy all day. Her nerve endings were ignited as she straddled Master Eric. His eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them before. His nostrils flared as she lowered herself onto his cock.

  In this position he filled her completely, taking away her breath.

  “Lean forward a bit and ride me.”

  He grew even harder, and an orgasm began to build in her.

  Then Master Rafael probed at her rear entrance.

  She froze.

  He reached around and fingered her pussy, making her squirm.

  Master Eric held her about the waist and moved her up and down, lending his efforts since fear had paralysed her.

  “Do this for me,” Master Rafael whispered against her ear.

  He licked the side of her neck, then bit her. He laved the little hurt with the tip of his tongue.

  Master Eric continued to lift her up and down, forcing her to take more of Master Rafael’s length.

  Even though she’d worn a plug when they’d had sex last night, it had been nothing like this. She felt as if she were being torn apart. And she didn’t want it to stop.

  “You’ve almost taken all of me,” Master Rafael assured her.

  She wasn’t sure how much more she could endure.

  Master Rafael put his hands on her shoulders and forced her breasts towards Master Eric’s chest. She realised the position would make her a little more accessible for her dark-haired Dom.

  Finally, seconds later, he was all the way in. She yelped.

  “You’re there,” Master Rafael said.

  She felt inexplicably proud. They gave her only moments to accommodate them both before they began moving, thrusting at different speeds. She didn’t know what to expect. She knew she couldn’t control anything so she surrendered to the overwhelming sensations.

  “May I come, Masters?” she remembered to ask.

  “You may.”

  She didn’t know which man answered. Frankly she didn’t care. She was beyond rational thought. All she wanted was satisfaction.

  She arched her back as an orgasm shot through her.

  Master Rafael forced her lower on his cock; Master Eric thrust upwards.

  Both men ejaculated and she screamed.

  “Noisy, isn’t she?” Master Eric asked.

  “If I didn’t like it so much, I’d keep her gagged.”

  Eventually Master Rafael withdrew. Her asshole burned. Her pussy throbbed.

  She felt well used, like a sex toy. The thought, rather than upsetting her, made her grin. Their sex toy.

  * * * *

  The rest of the day passed in a blur of pampering. That, too, was unexpected. The men cooked for her, poured her a glass of wine, encouraged her to soak in Master Rafael’s outdoor hot tub. That was beyond pleasure, gazing at the majestic snow-capped Rockies. A deer walked past, seemingly unconcerned that she was there.

  After she’d come back inside and rinsed off in the shower, she’d thought—hoped—the two men might take her back to bed, or, barring that, beat her.

  Master Rafael explained they wanted her fresh and relaxed. She figured she’d be more likely to achieve subspace if she were delirious from sex, but Master Rafael had been firm in his refusal.

  As Master Eric loaded the dishwasher, Master Rafael splashed a small amount of Cabernet into her glass.

  He leant back, his hips propped against the granite countertop. “I want to talk about last night’s experience.”

  It seemed to her they spent a lot of time talking.

  “Last night, you started to slip into subspace. It’s possible to get there without your Dom being deliberate, but it’s much easier if you’re both working towards the same goal.”

  She nodded and took a sip of the excellent wine.

  “How did the flogger work for you?”

  “I liked the way it hit me in so many places at once. I liked the way it felt, Sir.”

  “And the intensity of the blows…how was that?”

  “I liked it. I could have taken more, Sir. I wanted more.”

  He nodded. “It’s not necessarily about taking more. It’s not a matter of the honour of being able to take a harsh beating; it’s about receiving the right amount of stimulation.”

  She rolled the stem of the glass between her palms. “I wanted to continue yesterday, Sir. I’m afraid I was a little annoyed when you started talking.”

 
“If a bottom is truly in subspace they’re often no longer conscious of pain. I wanted to know where you were. As it was, I beat you for more than ten minutes.”

  Was he serious?

  “In my judgement you’d had enough. At least until we had a chance to discuss it and I saw how you processed the psychological aspects. It’s my obligation to end a scene if I have any concerns.”

  She nodded.

  “There will be no shame if you don’t achieve subspace tonight. We can try again tomorrow. Now put down the wineglass. You’ve got five minutes.”

  She took the opportunity to freshen up in the master bathroom. She took dozens of deep breaths. Her senses were heightened and anticipation churned through her.

  Both men were already in the playroom when she arrived.

  “Clamp her tits before securing her to the cross,” Master Rafael instructed.

  Maybe she should learn to be careful what she asked for.

  Master Eric grabbed a pair of clovers and attached them to her already sore nipples.

  She bit out a curse.

  In retribution, he tugged on the chain. He was every bit as beastly as Master Rafael. If she forgot it, he painfully reminded her.

  She definitely had to be careful what she asked for.

  Master Eric secured her in place while Master Rafael selected a flogger.

  “These strands are a little thinner than the ones we used last night. If it’s too much, tell me, but I suspect you’ll like it better,” Master Rafael said. “Yes, Sir.” She wanted him to get on with it. Her nipples ached and the butterflies were working overtime.

  Master Eric took his position where he could look at her. He really did have eyes she could drown in.

  Master Rafael massaged her neck and shoulders. She closed her eyes, focusing on anything but the nagging pain in her nipples.

  He continued, moving lower to vigorously rub her buttocks.

  It was almost enough to make her forget the clamps.

  He lightly used the flogger on her shoulders, her back, her rear.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Master Rafael increased the pressure slightly and rained the blows a little faster.

  He was right that this flogger stung more—making her skin dance—and he was also right that she preferred it.

  Master Eric gave a gentle tug on her chain. She moaned her approval.

  Her back and buttocks burned from the beating, and she was enjoying the sensations. Her body seemed to move in symphony with his lashing.

  She was suddenly glad he’d made her talk so damn much. She knew what to expect, knew he wouldn’t hurt her, knew that two men were watching her every reaction.

  She was aware of the room, of the scent of Master Rafael as he stood behind her, the way Master Eric stood watchfully in front of her, the way the clamps seared, making the flogging all that more appealing.

  She relaxed completely, allowing the bindings to support her. Her mouth parted, and her breathing took on the rhythm of deep sleep.

  Then…

  Then she wasn’t aware of anything except the experience of pain becoming pleasure.

  She was somehow deep inside herself. She felt the hungry leather lash at her skin, but it seemed as if it were from somewhere far away.

  Each blow just made her go deeper, deeper.

  She soared.

  It was as if she’d been standing on a precipice her entire life and now she was free.

  She mentally spread her arms and fell weightlessly, trustingly into a void that caught her, cradled her, protected her.

  Time ceased.

  Reality blurred.

  All that mattered was here and now and how good she felt.

  She was vaguely aware of her body and surrendered to the experience.

  Floating.

  Soaring.

  Flying.

  Free.

  For the first time ever, free.

  She wanted to stay here forever.

  How long it lasted, she had no idea. All too soon, she heard voices. She felt fingers at her wrists and ankles. The nipple clamps were removed. That shooting pain made her snap her eyes open.

  “Welcome back,” Master Eric—the devil—said.

  She didn’t want to be back.

  She felt disoriented, confused.

  Master Rafael rubbed the circulation back into her arms. “Can you talk to us?”

  She probably could. She just didn’t want to. It was as if she’d been in a different psychological state, one she couldn’t explain, one she wanted to hold onto for just a little longer, like a good dream.

  Master Rafael lifted her from the floor and carried her through the house.

  Her body felt limp. He had to instruct her to wrap an arm around his neck.

  He placed her on the bed. Then he stripped and joined her, pulling her close, cradling her head against his strong chest.

  She wasn’t aware of sleeping, but when she awoke, it was daylight.

  For the first time in years, she felt a bit unsure.

  “Good morning,” Master Rafael said.

  He stood at the side of the side of the bed, holding a cup of coffee. His hair was damp. A few drops of water clung to his gorgeous tanned skin. He offered her the cup of coffee and she took a sip.

  “Thank you, Sir. Manna from the gods.”

  “You’ve been out for about twelve hours. If I hadn’t brought coffee, I’m afraid you’d still be asleep.”

  She rarely slept more than six hours, maybe eight if she pulled a double at the restaurant.

  “Do you want to tell me about the experience?”

  “Do I have to?” she countered.

  He shook his head. “Not if it’s personal.”

  It was. She didn’t want to share it. “Honestly, I’m not sure I can explain it. It was as if I were somewhere else entirely.”

  “You were. For about half an hour.”

  It had seemed like minutes. “Thank you. It was…”—she took another sip of coffee“—outstanding. Memorable.”

  “It was our pleasure,” he told her. “Get dressed when you’re ready. Breakfast is waiting.”

  His words were every bit as much of a shock as waking up had been.

  She hadn’t been allowed to wear clothes since Friday. And now he was telling her to get dressed. She’d known she was only going to be here for a short time, but it had gone so fast. Her shoulders sagged and tears stung her eyes. She’d finally found a man who could give her everything she wanted.

  Apparently their time together—she—meant less than nothing to him.

  She knew it was Sunday and that her time was up, but his casual dismissal devastated her.

  Chapter Six

  “You’re a fucking idiot, my friend. Your life is boring and you’re going to die an old man out there on that forsaken mountain.”

  Rafael took a drink of beer but didn’t acknowledge Eric’s assessment. He stared out of the sliding patio door at the Continental Divide. For the first time, it didn’t provide solace. “Anything else before I hang up?”

  “She’ll be at a club in Dallas tomorrow night.”

  He thumped his beer onto the granite countertop. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “I called her to see how she was doing. She’s sure she can’t repeat the experience you gave her, but she’s bored and restless. She’s lonely, but she didn’t say that. She put an ad online looking for a Dom, someone to tie her up, fuck her and beat her. Seems she likes being tied up.”

  He clenched his jaw.

  “She’s had a few responses. She’s going to play with one of the guys, see how it goes.”

  Was she now?

  He wasn’t sure why the hell he let her walk out the door except for the fact he’d given his word that he would.

  “I invited her to California if it doesn’t work out.”

  “Hands off unless you’re invited.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Eric hung up.

  Resisting the urge t
o slam down his cell phone, he instead placed it on the counter. He’d never considered having a permanent sub before. Then again, he’d never met anyone like her, so real, so honest, so open.

  He wasn’t exactly sure how it would work out, but he knew the idea of any other man touching her filled him with rage. She wanted a Dom, did she? Well she’d damn well get one. He had to make one stop before the airport.

  * * * *

  The bell over the diner’s front door jangled. Lindsey turned around. The friendly welcome died on her lips, and she nearly dropped the coffeepot.

  “Rafael?” she asked, as if her eyes could deceive her.

  Even though her home was a small Texas town, he looked comfortable. His jeans, blue instead of black, hugged his tight ass and his thighs. He wore a navy blue T-shirt and black boots. He’d tied back his hair.

  He moved towards her deliberately.

  She took a step back before standing her ground.

  Not only had he let her go, he’d walked her to the car.

  “I heard you’re looking for a Dom.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That’s none of your business.”

  Conversation died around them as people figured out he wasn’t a customer.

  “Letting you go was a mistake.”

  “We had no long-term agreement.”

  “I want to make another agreement.”

  She’d lain in bed every night for the last month dreaming of him.

  “One where you’re my full-time submissive.”

  He didn’t seem to care that others were eavesdropping, but this was where she lived. She’d known these people most of her life.

  “You don’t need to go to Dallas to find a man who’ll take care of your needs.”

  John Simpson in the corner booth let out a wolf-whistle. “I’ll take care of you, honey; just get those sweet cheeks over here.”

  She looked over her shoulder. “This pot of coffee is going in your lap, John.”

  He stuck his fork back in his eggs.

  “Want me to rearrange his face?” Rafael asked.

  “I’ve been handling this type of stuff on my own for years.”

  “And you’ve clearly done a good job.” He dropped his voice. “Seeing this side of you turns me on. But from here on out, you’ll let me take care of you.”

 

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