On one wall, she saw another woman, her body taut where she was strapped, spread eagle in tight looking bonds.
Then, Judith she saw him.
A vision of muscle and stoic silence, the man stood against the wall beside the girl on the table. Wearing entirely all black, she hadn't noticed him initially with the dim lighting. He had on crisp pants, a thick belt. His torso was exposed in detailed glory, shirt unbuttoned down the front. His hands were clad in some sort of gloves, she didn't know if it was leather, or something else.
His stance, his aura, it was intimidating; confident. Though he wore a mask like all the others, she was sure if she had seen his eyes, they would have made her insides melt.
Who is that? What's he going to do?
As she watched, she got her answer. The stranger stepped forward, standing behind the prone woman who gave a soft whimper. Her blonde hair was in disarray, it hid her view when she tried to peek over her shoulder at the man.
“Don't look,” he spat, his tone chilled and without waver.
It made the woman obey, and it made Judith's pussy throb.
That the sound of his voice could affect her body so much... it shocked her, but made her unable to look away. She wanted to know more, this was beyond simple intrigue now.
His gloved hand came down, brushing along the woman's lower back, tracing the curve of one ass cheek. Instantly, she moaned, making Judith bite her lower lip. It felt wrong, watching this display, but everyone in the room seemed to be surveying as well.
He stepped between her thighs, cupping her rear, spreading the pliant flesh gently. It exposed the woman's slick pink folds. When he chuckled, Judith felt her heart thrum. “You're so wet, little pet. Why would that be? Do you like everyone watching you like this, showing them all how much you need to be punished?”
Punished?
The blonde gasped, then again when the man slapped her ass hard enough to leave a red mark. “Answer me, girl.”
“Yes!” she sobbed, arching her back as if to get more of his touch. “Yes, Master!”
Judith was stunned, her body thrilling with anticipation over the whole scene. It occurred to her what this place had to be, but why Benedict Vance would be hosting some sort of sex party thing under his house was still unclear.
“Always answer your master when they ask you a question, girl. This is why you're here, why your name was put on the list for training.” Gently, he ran a finger between the gap of her thighs. Judith was sure he must have touched her slit, for she moaned louder than before. “Would you like me to fuck you, girl? It sounds like you want that.”
“Yes, yes Master, oh god, please!” Squealing, she gyrated her hips, and Judith felt her own pussy quiver in sympathy.
“Well,” he whispered, so that Judith leaned forward to hear better, “then beg for it. Promise you'll be a good pet, and obey your Master from this moment on. Always,” his thumbs peeled her lower lips open, vulgarly displaying her twitching nether region. “And forever.”
Judith licked her dry lips, feeling far too warm watching all of this. Turning, she noticed one of the men, a fellow sitting down on a plush couch, had his legs spread wide. Between them, a mop of brunette hair was moving. She understood that the man was receiving a blow job, right there in the open. No one batted an eye. Some glanced over casually, but most still watched the blonde in her throes of passion.
This place is crazy, it's entirely obscene! I should leave, now, just walk out and go.
But she didn't.
“Please, sir, I'll do anything! I promise,” the blonde whined, her hair tossing as she lost herself in her desperate need for release. “I'll obey, always, anything! Just please, please...”
“Good girl, that will do for now,” he laughed, reaching down and rubbing the bulge of his pants. Once Judith noticed it, she couldn't look away. Staring, her core felt hot and wet, the sight of that gloved hand so casually outlining his own cock entrancing her.
Then, he freed it, the fleshy head bouncing into the dim light. That sight, his hand firmly gripping the base and giving it a slow pump, made her inhale audibly. His head moved, glancing her way. She was sure he had to know the sound had been from her.
For a moment, she was frozen with fear. Her mind buzzed, warning her to turn and run, that something awful was about to happen. Perhaps her cover would be blown, or worse. He looked back to the bound woman, running the tip of his swollen shaft along her slit.
He doesn't care, why am I worried? Everyone else is watching. I'm fine, I don't stand out.
The blonde woman panted loudly, unable to move enough to rock the man's length into her. It was clearly torture, being tied down and teased. Judith felt her own pulse quickening, her inner thighs damp from arousal.
Watching this is actually turning me on, what's wrong with me?
His long fingers curled into that mop of hair, pulling her head back. Her neck was bent beautifully, lips parted in a silent cry of delight. He bent low, whispering into her ear. Judith couldn't hear what was said, but she wished she had. Whatever it was, it made the woman cry out, clear as a bell. “Yes! Yes, Master, yes, of course!”
With a slow thrust, his plump cock slid into her from behind. Judith found herself wondering what that felt like, after being tormented for so long. To finally have such a hard length, filling her completely.
Wow, I need to calm down!
Reaching up, she wiped at the back of her neck, finding herself sweating. Every inch of her felt alive, and still, she tingled more as she watched the pair fucking on the table. He moved with purpose, holding her jaw, talking or nibbling at her ear.
Judith could see the blonde had no control, the one she kept calling 'Master' was able to pump into her at his leisure. He chose the speed, the force, and the woman could only accept what he gave.
Judith resisted a lusty hiss between her teeth when he gave a sudden, abrupt shove; burying into the blonde so hard the impact of flesh on flesh rang in the room.
She was sure her own panties were soaked.
Again and again, he held her down and used her body. Finally, he reached back between her legs with his slippery gloves. The way the woman suddenly squealed, Judith was positive the man had started rubbing her clit.
Thinking about how that would feel; being bent over, made to scream in front of all these people. A man like that, strong and stoic, casually fucking her, teasing her swollen button towards the pressure of release.
I wonder how that woman got into this situation?
Suddenly, the blonde screamed, a hoarse sound that betrayed what had happened. Her thighs quivered, before they seemed to grow weak. That man, he thrust into her a few more times, letting her hair go so her head could rest on the table.
She came, didn't she? I just watched her, everyone watched her!
Her own belly fluttered, flesh prickling with a growing ache. Watching the man, his arms flexing, his rhythm slowing, she was confused when he suddenly pulled free. His cock, hard and angry in the air, was coiled in his fist. Rapidly, he jerked his own length, making Judith's mouth water at the sight.
The explosion of pearly liquid hit the woman's ass, coating her skin and dripping down. Standing there, he rubbed the slippery head of his dick on her body, then tucked it away into his trousers. With one more final, crisp slap that made the blonde shout, and Judith gasp, he turned to the people and smiled.
“Another girl completes the first phase. Opal, clean her up and untie her. Make arrangements for her auction, we'll do it tomorrow night.”
“Yes, Master.” A woman, her hair a long woven raven braid, hurried up and offered him a glass of something, then a small towel. She began unbinding the blonde, washing away the ropes of cum on her skin as she did so. The room rumbled to life, everyone starting to move around and talk. It was like a spell had been broken, it reminded Judith of a crowd after a movie had ended.
Turning her head, she breathed in a few times to try and relax. That scene had been intense, she could nev
er have imagined such a thing existed behind the red door above. Someone moved near her, people bustling to exit down the tunnel. Judith felt herself bumped, she mumbled a quick apology.
As she twisted back around, the red-head found herself face to face with the man and his black gloves. He held a glass, sipping it as he seemed to study her. “Hello there, I don't believe we've met. Are you new?”
“Um, uh,” she sputtered, wondering if she could melt into the crowd and escape. “I... yes, this is my first time here.”
“I thought so, normally people should be in the room at the start of the event. Late comers are discouraged,” he smiled, but he didn't seem upset. Inclining his head, he gave her a once over. She wished she could see his eyes. “I'm Master Onyx, and you are...?”
Shit shit shit shit make something up!
“Sparrow,” she blurted, thinking of her last name, how people always compared it to a bird flying. Oh gosh, that's a terrible name. She forced a smile, hoping he would go along with her lies. Onyx paused, taking a drink before giving a gentle laugh.
“Sparrow, that's nice. This is your first time, you said? What about this place brought you here? Curiosity, perhaps?” Something in his tone implied wicked humor, making her cheeks warm.
“Actually, sort of, yes.” Guess I don't need to lie about everything.
“Then, did you see enough tonight to help you decide which path you would choose?”
Judith hesitated, worried she would give herself away if she revealed her lack of knowledge. “I'm not sure. What path did you choose?”
“Isn't it obvious?” He laughed, as if she had made a joke. Flexing a gloved hand between them, the surface shiny, creaking like leather, he bent closer. “The life of a Dom is not for everyone, but I knew right away. We have a few women who do it, but most here are men.”
She realized she had forgotten to breathe. His nearness, the reminder of the show he had put on, was making her flustered. “Aha, right, I see. So... the other choice, then, is more common for women?”
“Indeed,” he said. “Most become submissives. Well, if you decide, there is a list at the door. Just sign your name on the right page, indicating you'd like to begin training.” Judith thought, if she could have seen his gaze, he would have winked. “I'd be happy to teach you what it means, little Sparrow.”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. He was so tall, hovering over her, she thought she might be swallowed in his shadow. Suddenly, someone else called out, clapping Onyx on the shoulder. “Sir, come along, Helm would like to talk to you.”
Onyx frowned, but only for a second. Nodding his head to Judith, he turned and allowed himself to be led away. She breathed out, hard, leaning on the wall to steady herself. That whole night so far had been insane, she was ready to leave.
Turning, Judith walked quickly from the room, heading out through the group of people gathered in the main area. None of them spoke to her, and she was grateful. Pushing through the heavy curtain, her eyes fell on the small table by the archway.
The clipboard, where people sign in... and make their choices, I suppose.
Peering side to side, finding herself alone, she reached down and flipped through the papers. Now that she knew what she was looking for, it made more sense. There were lists, each of them labeled different things.
Here, she tapped one of them. The top read 'New Subs.' This is where he told me to sign. There were only three names, Judith wondered if one of them had been the blonde she had watched earlier.
Hesitating, she imagined what it would be like to sign her name there, to put down 'Sparrow' in that list. Would she end up tied to a table, spanked and teased, as well?
Would that man, Master Onyx, be the one to do it all to her?
Trembling, she wrenched herself away and shook her head. No, get a grip. This isn't for you.
With one last look at the clipboard, as well as the curtained arch, the girl turned and ran up the stairs.
Chapter 7.
The paint smudged along the wall, long strokes of ebony, smokey and rich. Carefully, she added some loose swirls of yellow, creating a burst of contrast. It seemed abrupt, a spark of color from the darkness. She liked the effect.
Apparently, so did Benedict.
“That's coming along nicely,” he said from her left. Shocked, Judith spun, ocher paint splattering onto the man's stone grey jacket.
“Oh my gosh, Benedict!” Horrified, she reached for a rag, but he only lifted his hands and chuckled.
“Shh, easy! It's fine,” he stated, studying the stain. “I didn't mean to scare you, I was just appreciating your work.”
Her expression smoothed, though she wasn't entirely convinced she hadn't just ruined an expensive outfit. Setting the brush down on her pallet, she offered him a frail smile. “It's fine, sorry, I'm just a little... tired.”
Benedict squinted at her, like he was trying to figure out what she meant. She didn't like that, him being so curious, so she rubbed at her cheeks and held back a yawn.
“Well,” he began, “I was going to talk to you about that. You've been working very hard these past two days, I don't want you burning out with late nights.”
The memory of the night before, the cries of pleasure, the crack of palms on smooth flesh, it sent a flicker of heat into her belly. I'm not tired from painting all night, I'm tired because I couldn't sleep after... In her mind, she heard Onyx's voice, his promise.
She shivered.
It had been difficult to relax after everything she had seen behind the red door. The sheets had been soaked in her sweat this morning.
Benedict was still talking, she shook her head, making herself pay attention.
“—for lunch. If that's alright.”
“Wait, what?” She stared, wishing she had heard everything he'd said.
“I mean, if you insist on not eating with me, I'll understand. But getting away from this wall might do you some good.” His smile was gentle, his eyes melting like ice.
He wants to have lunch... with me?
“Um, sure, I'd like that. When do you want to do this?”
Laughing, he reached into his pocket. The watch he pulled forth caught the light, glittering like a sea of stars. Holy goodness how expensive is that thing, she wondered.
“I was thinking now, actually.”
“Now?” she asked.
“Ms. Flight, it's nearly after two, didn't you realize?”
Judith hung her head, closing her eyes in defeat. Where has my mind been all day? It was a silly thing to ask herself, she knew where it had been. Black gloves, dark promises.
“Alright,” she declared, putting on a firm grin. “Alright, fine, let's get lunch. These paint fumes are going to my head.”
****
She was both surprised, and grateful, when they didn't go very far.
Sitting out in the backyard, the pair reclined under a large umbrella to hide from the angry LA sun. It was beautiful; the sky clean and clear, the scent of fresh mowed grass.
Corbin served them glasses of mojitos, trays of chilled tomato soup and small finger sandwiches. It made Judith feel exorbitantly fancy. Though she loved it, she wished she didn't still have paint stains on her hands.
Still, he didn't bother to change his jacket, so what does it matter?
Benedict swirled the ice in his glass, mint leaves dancing in a tornado. “So, you stayed the night here, Corbin tells me.”
Blinking, she sipped her own drink, enjoying the sugar on the rim. “He told you that, did he?” What else did he tell you? Unless he doesn't know what I did last night, either. Benedict didn't go for the leading question, so she relaxed her tense shoulders and nibbled a sandwich.
“How did you like it?”
“What, staying here?”
Those blue eyes peered at her through the shade, making her shift on her chair. “Yes, I'm hoping you enjoyed yourself. I'm more at ease when I feel like a real host.”
Judith motioned with half a sandwich, i
ndicating the table of food, then the yard around them. “Well, isn't this being enough of a host?”
“For most people,” he chuckled, closing his eyes as he sipped the mojito.
“But not for you,” she stated bluntly. The alcohol warmed her. It was strong, making her bolder. Benedict gave her a hard, questioning look, but she didn't back down.
“Not for me,” he agreed. “Ms. Flight, I admit, I like having some... input, some part rather, in how my guests are doing.”
“You like being in control.”
There, on his face, was a hint of displeasure. That odd, burning threat she had encountered the day she had asked about the red door.
Benedict was silent, his mouth a hard line, brows hooded low over those piercing sapphires. The girl felt her facade cracking, the alcohol not enough to keep her confident.
“Maybe,” he whispered, “maybe I do. Is that a problem for you?”
Swallowing her drink in one gulp, trying to avoid answering, she felt the ice tickle her nose. Oh god, I've made him angry. What was I thinking? “No, not a problem, it's your home after all.”
“Correct,” Benedict nodded. “My home, my rules.” For awhile, he just studied her. She wondered if he was trying to read her, to figure out her thoughts. The concept terrified her. “You did agree to them, you know.”
“Yes, right, I know.” Biting her lip, she stared down at the sandwich she still held, her appetite gone.
“As long as we understand each other, Ms. Flight.”
“Of course,” she breathed, looking at her reflection in the ice of her glass. “We understand each other perfectly.”
****
That night, she dug the mask out again.
It hadn't been her plan. At least, she told herself that. She didn't want to break the rules Benedict had set. But, as she watched the last person enter the red door, and as Corbin seemed to vanish off to wherever, she couldn't fight her urge.
In a similar outfit to last night, a dress of shimmering ink and low heels, lips luscious and ruby as her target, she slipped through the door.
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