Mutual Release

by Liz Crowe

  Jack handed him a bottle of water. “Chill, my man. You are oozing a very non-Masterful vibe, if you get me.”

  Evan glanced over at his friend. “What’s up with you, Jack? You’ve had PMS or something for the last couple of weeks. Jenna’s back. What’s the deal?”

  “I, um, I’m trying to make up my mind about something.” Jack slugged back half the bottle of water and settled his face in familiar calm lines. “No biggie.”

  “Oh, well, okay.” Evan sipped some, capped it, and put the sweating plastic bottle on the table in front of him.

  “I’m gonna buy the house.”

  “What house?” Evan noticed some activity at the far end of the cavernous, men’s club-like room, only half hearing what Jack was saying.

  “Our house. The one we live in. It’s on short sale and a great deal.”

  “Oh, well, cool. I guess.” Evan would never understand Jack’s need to own shit. But no matter how much he spent, some of it on wildly frivolous things like winter vacations to expensive ski resorts, he always had more money in the bank than anyone Evan knew.

  “Yeah, so all that means to you is I plan to reconfigure the top floor, turn it into a small two-person rental unit. It will all be done in about three months, and we’ll have upstairs roommates by summer.” Jack leaned back, his brow furrowed.

  “Great,” Evan said, wishing he could figure out a way to bring up what he’d overheard about Jenna one day when he was studying in the student lounge.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we are ready to proceed with the evening’s festivities.” A tall, well-dressed older man stood at a large double door, opened it, and Evan’s senses were assaulted. His eyes, ears and nose took in the lush room, peppered with cushy chaise lounges, love seats draped with gossamer curtains, and all sorts of seating arrangements. Soft classical music played at a low enough decibel to just be aware of it. Scents of lavender, vanilla, sandalwood, and a definite layer of leather permeated the large space.

  As Evan’s eyes adjusted, he realized that the reason that it all seemed vaguely foggy was that there was a sheen of sheer fabric over the entrance. He reached out to brush it aside, but a low, firm voice to his left spoke.

  “You must not touch anything.”

  He flushed and felt his body break out in a simultaneous sweat and shiver. Looking around, he realized he was completely alone. Jack was nowhere to be seen, not to mention the rest of the attractive, powerful people who’d been together earlier. He shifted, nervous as hell and starting to get angry.

  “This is not the sort of experience you think it is,” the voice kept talking, breathy, close to his ear. “So I suggest that you relax and let us handle the details.”

  Evan sucked in a breath, tried to calm his pounding heart. As he watched, the various couches and chairs were filled with what he assumed were the subs, the ones who had left the room earlier. They were certainly dressed to play, the men shirtless with leather pants, the women in corsets and high heels. None of them were bound, blindfolded, or otherwise restrained. He stared slack-jawed as the woman who would no doubt populate his fantasies the rest of his life entered, wearing a long leather coat, bra, garter belt, tiny panties, and a giant bull whip, the latter draped around her long, ebony neck. It was definitely her, the woman he’d seen and lusted after earlier. He shifted as his cock met the back of his zipper with such enthusiasm he nearly passed out from lack of blood to his head.

  “Welcome to Club Piquant,” the voice spoke near Evan’s ear, startling him. “As a newly invited initiate, tonight will be merely a show for your titillation. Once it is determined that you are an appropriate addition to our group, based on member evaluations, you will be contacted for another visit. In the meantime, please relax and enjoy.”

  A leather chair appeared from the gloom. Evan looked around, then took the seat, disappointed but intrigued. He could hear Jack’s voice, his laughter low and inviting. What the fuck? Was Gordon getting in on action while he had to watch? Then he heard Jenna’s annoying giggle and realized the club must be making her watch too, only she got to do it with her date. He sighed, leaned back, and prepared himself to be underwhelmed.

  “No,” a sexy, rough female voice broke through the clamor in his head. It must have surprised everyone because all the people on the couches glanced up. “I want him. Out here.” Evan looked straight at her and saw the hot-as-shit Domme point her bullwhip right at him. He gulped, actually looked around like a dork, thinking there must be someone behind him. He was no sub.

  She crooked her finger, her ruby-red moist lips drawing his gaze and making him feel positively hypnotized. His cock kept up its painful pressure along the inside of his zipper. A drop of sweat formed on his temple but he couldn’t move his arms to brush it away. All he knew… was her.

  “Mr. Adams,” the disembodied voice said. “Your presence has been requested by our Mistress. Please. Do not make her wait.” The sheer curtain separating him from the crowd parted as he stood. Shoving his hands in his pockets and no longer aware of anything at all but what he wanted right now, he took the few steps down to the main floor.

  “Stop!” She held up a hand. “Do not come any closer until I tell you.” She snapped her fingers. A tall man dressed only in leather pants emerged from somewhere to her left. A woman approached him, smiling and holding out a tray filled with… He stared, then shook his head, backing away, his brain on fire and his body in flight mode. “Where are you going, slave?” The woman cracked her whip. Evan sensed its bite near his cheek.

  “I am no one’s slave,” he croaked out, sounding like a whiny kid.

  “Perhaps. But I am not just anyone.” Before he could catch a breath, the woman was in his space. He kept his hands at his sides, knowing if he touched her he would be punished. Her full lips were inches from his. She leaned in, placed a tender kiss on his cheek, then stepped back.

  “The Mistress has chosen!” the voice boomed and the room heaved a collective sigh. Evan whipped his head around, suddenly terrified and hornier than he had been in his entire existence. He closed his eyes as a loud whooshing sound started echoing around in his head in perfect time with his heartbeat. He held his ground, biting the inside of his cheek raw to keep from falling to his knees and kissing his way up her shiny patent leather shoe. The woman stood, the cape-like cloak draped around her tall, perfect body. He couldn’t move and had no idea what to do now anyway.

  She took two long steps and was back in his space, tugging his tie, lifting it free of his collar and letting her lips linger over his, tempting, teasing, and bringing his body to full attention from his scalp to his toes. What in the hell was going on here? He was a sub? But the whooshing sound would not stop; it deafened him and he started to shake. The woman put her hands on his shoulders and kept kissing him just enough to make him insane. Disembodied hands removed his suit coat. Then, with a powerful jerk, She ripped his dress shirt into two scraps of expensive cotton that hung from his wrists.

  His nipples hardened, his skin broke out in goose bumps. More bodiless hands unfastened his cuffs and took what remained of his shirt away. The woman kept smiling, trailing her fingertip down his chest. Evan’s lungs hurt he was breathing so hard.

  “You are very…” She leaned in and touched her tongue to a nipple, making him gasp. “In need of…” She licked her way across his chest to the other hardened nub of flesh and bit, hard, making him yelp and grunt to distract himself from coming in his trousers. “A lesson in what it means to wield control.”

  She unfurled the whip, keeping her lips on his skin, licking and nibbling her way up his neck as he stood, fists clenched and teeth grinding. Then she bit down on his lower lip, bringing tears to his eyes and yet more urgency to fuck. What was happening to him?

  “Sit.” She shoved him down. Evan dropped, hoping someone had put a chair there. His ass hit leather and wood. Watching mesmerized as she dug a sharp heel into his still-covered thigh. The pulsing behind his zipper had reached a level he’d never exp
erienced. It was as if he were already coming, in his head, trying to relieve the pressure without actually ejaculating. This was a total goddamn trip. He sighed, looked up at the ceiling.

  “Don’t look away from me, slave.” Her rough voice made the whooshing sound return between his ears. She snapped her fingers. Two nearly naked women scuttled to his side, undid his belt, unzipped his pants, and pulled off his shoes while removing his trousers, leaving only his tie and boxers.

  “Holy fucking mother of… ah!” he cried out, unable to stop when the woman stood over him, her warm, inviting sex right at his eye level. Other hands rubbed, teased him through his underwear. But he kept his eyes trained up as he sucked in a lungful of her heady scent.

  “You think this is all there is, don’t you, boy?” The woman’s voice filled his head. “Your giant cock and what you can do with it.” She stepped away from him, flicking her whip at his inner thighs, breaking up the pleasure with a bite of pain that made him curse and lean forward. The lovely, soft hands that had been on his aching shaft disappeared. “Oh no you don’t. You sit; you take, and you do not come. For any reason. If you do, I will make you very,” she slid the handle of the whip along his reddened inner leg, “very sorry. Are we clear? Dear?”

  He nodded, breathless, perched on the ragged edge of doing exactly what she had forbidden. He wondered for about a half-second what his friend thought of this little spectacle.

  “Eyes on me, slave. Thoughts free of anything… but this.” She put her finger to her panties, slid it inside, still at his eye level. He sucked in a breath, smelling her spicy lust. She put her finger to his lips. He looked at her, knowing he was not allowed to do anything at all unless she told him to. “Taste me, boy. I know you want to.” He touched his tongue to her finger, keeping their eyes locked. She chuckled low in her throat. Mystery hands shackled his wrists together behind him. She gripped his hair, pulling hard. “No, slave. I said taste me. I know you want to.”

  He gulped, watched as she flicked her wrist and let the silky black scrap of fabric drop to the floor. She propped one high-heeled shoe on his shoulder and leaned in, using some seriously amazing flexibility and strength.

  “Show me what you think you can do.”

  Closing his eyes, counting backward from five thousand and using every scrap of control he could muster, he put his lips to her clit, fighting the restraints and dying to grab her hips and hold her close. He groaned when she shifted and her delicious flesh engorged even further in his mouth. He sucked and released, sucked and released, ran his tongue along the delicate outer lips. He was on fire and knew he wouldn’t last, not if she did what he suspected she was about to do.

  “Ah. Yes. My lovely boy…” She moved her hips, used her hands to guide him, pulling and tugging at his hair. “There. No, not there. There… ah, now suck… Yes. Harder… Hard, damn you. I have not had an orgasm at a man’s mouth in over a year. No, stop that.” She yanked his hair, making him yelp against her flesh.

  Then he smiled when he caught on, used his tongue and lips and coaxed her to a loud, wet, and wholly amazing climax in front of a huge audience of people. In the process he managed not to come and embarrass himself, but it was a close thing.

  She stood staring at him, satisfaction in her gaze. “Lovely. Well done, slave. I’m sorry I can’t return the favor… yet.” She rubbed the whip handle along her bare sex, then turned around, pointed to a few of the people standing around in various stages of masturbation and yelled at them to bring the cross. That her slave still had a lesson to learn. “You are a lovely and very interesting specimen,,” she practically purred in his ear as she removed the arm restraints and pulled him to his wobbly feet.

  She kissed him, diving into his mouth, wrapping her entire self around him. But he stood, hands at his sides. He knew better. She stepped away, leaving him breathless and teetering, nearly falling over when someone’s very soft hands tugged his underwear off. He stood wearing nothing but a silk tie and a giant throbbing erection.

  The woman walked around him three times as he stood, teeth chattering, every inch of him aching for release. At one point she wrapped her hand around his shaft, stroked up and down his length, rubbing her finger and then her lips across the fluid that now coated the tip. “Have you ever been fucked, slave?”

  His brain fluttered as she pushed him back to the cross, keeping their eyes in constant contact. The whooshing sound returned, and he saw nothing but the deep mocha of her eyes. The room was gone, the other people, his friend, all of it disappeared as if by odd sexual magic. “No, Mistress,” he whispered as she ran her hands all over him, tweaking his nipples, gripping his ass, stroking his balls. He gritted his teeth against the impulse to beg her to do just that.

  “Perhaps…,” she said, biting his lower lip again, “after you service me once more. I like your skills… so far.” She stepped back and flicked the whip, striping his chest lightly, masterfully, just enough to make him wince and want more. “I’m doing this so you learn, slave. So that you understand that it is never, ever just about you and what you can do and how hard you get off at the end. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Mistress.” He could barely hear or see, but his senses were full of her. She snapped her fingers, took a leather collar attached to a chain, and put it around his neck, kissing him gently, in an odd juxtaposition of movements. The leather bit, cutting into his windpipe. But he knew it would not hurt him and that he had to relax, as he had told countless subs in the past.

  Panic started to blind him. But her lips soothed, her soft nonsense words forced a cooling wind through his fevered brain. Once his heart settled somewhat, she smiled at him, took something from another naked assistant and slid it over his cock, nestling it at the base and under his balls, making him grunt and bend over with sudden shocking pain.

  “Shh… my sweet slave. Calm yourself.” She stroked his face, as gentle as the bite of the cock ring was excruciating. He could actually feel his dick hardening even further as blood was constricted by the tight metal circle. He blew out a few breaths, tried to go with it, to learn and understand the lesson she was teaching. Because he knew it was right. He’d never used any sort of restraint or pain-inducing device on himself, but applied them frequently, talking to his play partners and subs as if he understood their pain. But he had not. Until now.

  She smiled and turned, leash in hand, and led him to a large, soft-looking lounge. “On your knees,” she commanded, flicking his shoulders with the flogger she’d exchanged for the bullwhip. He had pain and pleasure everywhere. He couldn’t even identify the individual points of either anymore. He dropped to his knees, his eyes on the floor, gazing at the shiny, sexy shoes below him. “Look up at me, boy.” She tilted his face up, gestured to her left, and a voluptuous naked woman appeared, smiling and holding the very clamps he was fond of applying. “Now, now,” his Mistress whispered when he struggled and whimpered, unable to stop. “I’m not going to hurt you. Much.” She ran a finger down his face. “Give me a word, slave. Any word. Tell me now, before it’s too late.”

  “B-b-b-b-bahamas,” he stuttered, shaking as the very hot woman approached with the clamps.

  “A lovely place indeed. I will remember that should we need it.” She sat back on the lounge, long legs crossed, dressed only in the bra, garter belt, and those goddamn shoes. Her smell nearly killed him; he wanted to taste her again so much he almost begged her. “Keep your eyes on me, boy. Focus and concentrate. And do not come.”

  He sucked in a breath, kept his eyes on hers, drowning in them while the girl distracted him by stroking the now-pulsing head of his penis as she applied the clamps to his nipples, slowly but surely their hard metal action biting down and holding on. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned. “Make her stop, Mistress, please.” He bit his lips as his hips thrust seemingly of their own accord and his body went on pre-climax autopilot.

  And then the girl was gone, and he was left, a quivering lump of need, staring at the red soles of his Mistre
ss’ shoes. He shivered, licked his lips, and acknowledged this was the hottest damned thing that had ever happened to him – and the most humiliating and awful. He realized now what he’d been doing wrong, no matter that the women kept coming back and letting him. He had to be more aware, more in tune to his sub’s psychological need and not just her physical.

  He gulped and let his gaze trail up from his Mistress’s shoes along the dark brown expanse of her legs. “Such a good boy,” she whispered, running her fingers absently along her abdomen. “Such a fast learner.” She put her shoe on his shoulder. “Service me. Make me come so hard I see fucking stars, slave. Do it now before I get bored.”

  He nodded, focus locked on the shoe covering the foot still lying on the lounge. He gripped it, brought it to his lips, licked it, tasting expensive leather, then made his slow way up the inside of her leg. She was so ready for him, he could see it. But he released her and started over with the other leg, making whispery little kisses and small nibbles along her flesh. She gasped and moved her hips. But he left her center alone and kept moving up her taut torso, pulling first one then the other firm breast from the bra and teasing each of her nipples into ever harder peaks until he bit one, pinched the other, groaning when she tugged on the chain connecting his own nipple torture devices. He loomed over her, staring into her eyes. She smiled, slow, easy, and reached out for two ice cubes. Then, never breaking eye contact, she unclamped him and put the cubes directly on his tortured flesh.

  “Fuck!” His cock leapt, making him wonder if he would have anything left when she was done with him. The pain was like nothing he’d ever felt, not even full body ice baths after long hard workouts were anything like this.