Masters of the Club

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Masters of the Club Page 14

by Lizbeth Dusseau


  Shivering more deeply yet, Kate returned to the vulnerable pose and took another rain of terrifying cuts, sure when she was finished that he must have broken the skin.

  “There,” he announced when he was done. He was smiling. “I do so love the criss-crossed remains of a caning on a woman’s ass.” He bent down to caress the welted skin, noting the dozen stripes of red that bloomed there as prettily as the roses in his garden. “Go look at yourself and adjust those zippers to cover your wounds. They are my special treat. I’ll think about them all night when I look at you. Now go, it’s time to leave.”

  Kate hustled toward the downstairs powder-room, taking a quick sixty seconds admiring Vitorio’s handiwork. The stripes were quite askew on her ass, some very deep, enough to cause her discomfort all night. But surprisingly, the skin was not marred deep enough to bleed. Between the rod in her ass and the tender surface of her punished skin, the arousal was almost impossible not to satisfy with masturbation, but her pleasure would have to wait.

  Her breasts were not as severely marked, but they were still stunning to look at and painfully wounded. These stripes were finely etched like a painter’s brush strokes. She had to stop viewing them; they turned her on too much. Taking one last glance at herself in the mirror, her appearance pleased her—make-up straight, hair looking shiny and soft, zippers adequately closed for their trip to Milan. Once her coat was on, she could relax. Though when Vitorio snapped the leash to her collar and left it floating outside her wrap, she had to wonder just how much of her submissive inclinations would be exposed this night.

  ***

  To Kate’s surprise they were having dinner before the opera. She’d imagined some small soiree afterwards, and this new wrinkle frightened her. Why, she wasn’t certain, but when a master does not disclose all his plans, it’s usually because he has something in mind that’s aimed to shock an unsuspecting member.

  At the restaurant, the pair were joined by six couples, ladies and men—to her knowledge none members or masters of the club. It had been so long since she’d seen a woman, she relished the sight of them, and would have loved some womanly conversation, but it was clear from the outset that she was set apart from these other lushly laid-out confections. If there was a submissive bone in any of their haughty bodies, it was hiding somewhere no one would ever find. They looked on her as some bauble Vitorio brought to show off.

  Kate remained quiet while the rest of the table conversed amiably. The food was rich and she ate lightly, mostly bread which might settle her queasy stomach. With Vitorio filling her wine glass several times, she knew he wanted her loose and unafraid, but she wasn’t certain that wine alone would do the trick. Too much was unknown and alarming to allow herself to completely relax.

  “So, you are Vitorio’s newest friend?” one woman said turning to her smiling broadly, as though she planned a friendly conversation. Her auburn hair was piled atop her head in curls, her ears drooped with spangles of diamonds and she wore a smart sheer black dress. She could be a bitch, Kate thought, but she seemed genuinely interested in her at the moment.

  “Yes, I suppose I am.” It had been so long since she’d really spoken that the sound of her voice seemed odd.

  “And what is it like to be his sex-goddess?”

  She was alarmed by the question and turned to Vitorio.

  “Go ahead, Katherine, and answer her.”

  “It’s an amazing experience. I have little to think of except pleasing him.”

  “How sweet. And what of your pleasure?”

  She felt Vitorio’s hand on her thigh as though it was reminding her to be truthful. “My pleasure doesn’t matter,” she replied.

  “Really? You’re not sexually satisfied at all?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then you do find pleasure in your “service” to him,” she enunciated the word derisively.

  “I do.”

  “How’s that?” She was quite curious, her brow knitting into worry lines.

  “Tell Gwen how you live,” Vitorio interjected. “I think she wants details.”

  Kate tried to hold back her blush, but her cheeks radiated her embarrassment. Still, she was obliged to speak, this as much an order as any Vitorio had given her. “I suppose you could say I’m like a toy for his pleasure. I wear what he chooses for me to wear, I perform for him sexually as he chooses, I basically live to please him.” Though her comments were difficult at first, the confession seemed to give her courage to reveal more. She could see that her words stunned the women, and brought appreciative glances from the men around the table. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad to shock people with the truth about herself. Better than telling lies.

  “What happens if you don’t please him?” another woman asked.

  “I’m punished,” she answered simply.

  A dozen eyes went wide in wonder.

  “I usually crouch on the floor at his feet—a pose that’s required of me quite often—and if I’ve disobeyed, or not understood his demands and failed him in any way—or even if I’ve simply annoyed him, he will have me raise my skirt—if I’m wearing any—and strike my ass. Sometimes he spanks me with a paddle, at other times he flogs me with his belt, or some similar length of leather. He might use a riding crop on my ass, that’s particularly grueling, or, as he did tonight, cane me with a biting baton.”

  “He punished you tonight?” The first woman was aghast.

  “Not punishment tonight,” Kate answered. “He simply wanted to mark me—mark his territory, perhaps. It’s really not mine to say why.” She hadn’t said so much in weeks, and how curious that it was these words that flowed so easily from her lips. Vitorio continued to squeeze her thigh gently with approval. “But regardless of how he treats me—painfully or to raise my pleasure—he does pleasure me.” She turned to her master and gave him a knowing smile, acknowledging that though their relationship, by his own definition was designed for his pleasure, not hers, it still gave her great satisfaction. “I don’t seek to have this austere containment forever, but as long as it lasts, I will enjoy it.”

  “And you have some idea how long you’ll be with Vitorio?”

  “I don’t make that choice. I gave myself to him, it’s his to choose when I leave.”

  There was a breathless quiet about the room, all eyes still gazing at Kate’s as they prettily gleamed in the mellow candlelight. It seemed she’d silenced them all and satisfied their curiosity as far as they dared know. She noticed some uncomfortable squirming and stifled laughter. Finally, one less inhibited man jostled Kate’s freshly earned triumph. “Did Vitorio leave marks with the cane tonight?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “I’d like to see them.”

  She shuddered, but remained silent, not knowing how to respond, though she had the feeling that this man would get his wish. As bold as she’d been with her confession, she knew that an exhibition would be horribly humiliating.

  “Yes, I’d like to see them myself,” another voice declared, rising above the murmurs of Vitorio’s other friends. Kate trembled as a pang of fear instantly ripped through her groin, and she watched as Thaddeus walked around from behind her to a place across the table, casually wedging himself in the space the others made for him to sit. Whether he was invited or simply crashing the party, his sudden appearance struck thunder in her heart. A desire she’d not allowed herself to feel in weeks leapt to the forefront of the night’s reigning commotion. “The ones on your breasts, if I may,” Thad continued as Kate stared him in the eye and he stared back. He was a breathlessly beautiful man, his formal attire only adding to the allure that had held her hopelessly mesmerized for three years.

  Vitorio knocked her out of the reverie, squeezing her thigh so hard it hurt. “Show the man what he wants,” he ordered, as his tone of voice immediately reminded her to which master she now belonged.

  Flushed and embarrassed, Kate reached to the front zipper of her dress and slowly pulled it down. She exposed herself inch by
inch until the zipper was beneath her billowing tits, the two sides of the leather dress parting wide, her flesh spilling out until even her nipples were bared and the marks of Vitorio’s cane appeared for all these voyeuring eyes to see.

  “Ah, very lovely,” Thad remarked. He was just being served his salad, a quick catch-up meal, the rest at the table were already well through their entree. Kate’s lover began to eat with relish, while he talked amiably with the others around them. It was obvious that he knew these people.

  Vitorio gave no sign for her to rezip the dress, so as the rest of the table continued with their meal, Kate joined them, trying not to let this display send her composure careening out of control. While their table was in a screened off part of the restaurant’s dining room, there were waiters and busboys going by that couldn’t help but stare in awe of the woman with the unzipped dress.

  Just as dessert was being served, Thad peered at her with a smile that suddenly made her jump. All this time, there was still no outward sign of the close relationship they shared. He looked pleasantly full, satiated on food and was admiring her with the eyes of a true devotee, a gentle but incomprehensible smirk on his lips.

  “Ms. McPherson, Kate, isn’t it?” he addressed her.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’d like to see the marks on your ass.”

  She was stunned by the request, but again, she deferred to Vitorio, who gave her a gentle shove and sent her around the table to Thaddeus Chamberlain’s side.

  She was sure her lover would enjoy the welts, as well as the unique surprise under her dress. For long periods of time during the meal, she forgot about the anal plug, it fit so nicely within her. Only when she moved did the thing cause her discomfort and there was so little reason to move. Now it was particularly jarring and offensive realizing that everyone would know she’d eaten her meal with her ass impaled.

  “Ah, how ingenious, my friend,” Thad was duly impressed by the second zipper. With a single sharp tug of his hand, he lifted it nearly to her waist and exposed her ass. “My, what do we have here?” He parted the two sides of her dress so that the entire table could see the marks and then the leather thong that ran down through her cheeks. “Are you wearing a harness?” he added in mock amazement—mock amazement to her since he knew without having to tug the thong—which he did quite rudely—that she had been bound.

  “I am, sir.”

  “My, she is polite,” one man noted.

  “She’s submissive; of course she is,” a woman shot back immediately as if to say she definitely wasn’t.

  “Part yourself,” Thad ordered, as Kate’s embarrassment rose. Her breasts were one thing, but exposing the harness, he blatantly showed off the vile secret to the startled gasps of Thad’s attentive audience. Finally turning her around, the group saw her parted pussy lips, and her face flushed red as a beet. Though she cast Thad a look that spoke of their previous relationship, he decided to ignore that. Rather, he playfully snapped at the straps, causing her whole body to wrench. Like a kid with a new toy, he was delighted with the results, that delight witnessed in his amused expression. “Seems you are righteously trussed up … chains,” he tugged the piercings, “straps,” he snapped them one more time, “and a bit of anal discipline,” he pressed his fingers into her crack, pushing on the plug so she jumped. He glanced at Vitorio. “I sure hope this plug will come loose, I think we’d all like to have at her crack tonight.” He perused the table, finding pleasantly agreeable smiles on the faces of the men. While the women looked grim, the gentlemen at the table were captivated by Thad’s dark desires as he wrote the script for the remainder of her evening.

  ***

  The opera was as glittering as Kate remembered it from the last time she attended. Then, it was on Thad’s arm and she was treated like a princess. She was a princess of a different sort this night and it became clear from the outset that listening to Puccini was not how she’d spend her evening. Once Thad was finished with her in the restaurant, she became Vitorio’s property once again. On his arm now, she was his leashed pet, her master no longer hiding her tether under her coat. She was thankful that he briskly led her up to his theatre box, out of a lobby packed with a well-heeled crowd of Italian opera lovers. Few would notice how this one woman was being led by collar and leash. Those who did, probably thought it was some new fashion statement. And Kate couldn’t be concerned with stares, she had much too much to think about. If only she weren’t so sober, but it seemed being displayed as the second dessert after the evening meal had cleared her head. If only she could have that lovely fog of nothingness surround her like it always seemed to do at Vitorio’s estate.

  For a time, she sat next to her Italian master. Thad was nowhere she could see. The box was filled, all seats taken, and as the music began she relaxed back and listened. Every once and a while Vitorio gave her liquor from a flask. And in time, the beautiful notes of the opera filled her head, as did a sweet inebriated numbness she could enjoy.

  At the beginning of the second act, Vitorio kept Kate in the empty hallway outside their seat, where he raised her skirt enough to get to the harness locks. Pulling the plug from her ass, he deposited it in a handkerchief, then shoved her back into the box. This time she wasn’t taking her seat. On his orders, she remained by the door waiting for the men—who now paid as much attention to her as they did the opera staged before them. Once they were aware of her availability, she became their whore for the night. The first man pushed her to her knees between his feet and she proceeded to give him a blowjob timed to the lusty operatic rhythms playing around them. He had a simple erection and enough scarcely restrained desire that it only took a few minutes before he was spewing his cream in her face.

  The next gentleman had something more ingenious in mind, and quickly pulled her with him into the hall and onto the second tier men’s toilet. The small washroom had two stalls and of course several urinals—a minimal facility, but it was as elegantly decorated as the rest of the magnificent opera house, and would be perfectly suitable for his needs. At the door of one stall, he slipped a pocketknife in the slot and engaged the lock so the door was closed and firm with them on the outside. Pressing Kate against the thick wood panel, he unzipped her skirt, loosened the straps with Vitorio’s key, and pulled the thong aside. Lubricating the rear channel with a little liquid soap from the sink, he had her primed. Then undoing his own zipper he removed a stiff erection that he jammed into Kate’s ass. She shrieked, more silently than aloud, but her vocalization did warrant a stern reproof.

  “Quiet, bitch; this is what you’re made for and you like it,” he seethed into her ear.

  He fucked her hard, pumping himself into her channel, banging her body against the stall until he came hard inside her ass. She clung to the top of the door, white-knuckled from an initial shooting pain, but then found her readied ass could take the assault with ease, expanding with each thrust of his organ.

  Thinking she was finished, she was surprised to find another of Vitorio’s gentlemen friends taking his place once the first man withdrew. This cock was larger, but she managed to take it without any pain. The more he pumped himself within her, the more her own desire mounted a fierce orgasmic attack of its own. There was a third and then a fourth cock inside her ass, reaming the spasming hole until she knew that it would be sore in the morning. But the soreness didn’t seem to matter. Being lifted by the hands of these indulgent lovers depleted all her power. Contained and controlled by them for their lust, she let go.

  When the final of the half dozen pressed to her backside, she was surprised but relieved to find that he wanted her pussy not her ass. This time she was forced to bend over to more easily deal with the fuck, and by then, the need to keep silent had passed. With this last man using her in her favorite place, the orgasm she’d been hanging onto finally broke free in an exuberant blast that made her cry and jerk like a madwoman on the man’s thick prick.

  When all her lovers disappeared, Kate waited for some t
ime, recuperating. She saw herself in the mirror a total mess, her hair, her make-up, eyes looking black from mascara running down her cheek, and the corset dress bizarrely askew. She might have laughed but she was too exhausted. Spending a few minutes repairing the damage, making herself presentable again, she regained enough strength to find her way back to Vitorio’s theatre box.

  Even in her stupor she sensed something missing. No Vitorio, no Thad. No master had used her treasures for their own, and that felt curiously strange. Her night was not complete, but then, it was not hers to criticize or complain. As with all else in her world, she would simply submit and allow the remainder of her evening to unfold without worrying over details, finales or sentiment that was likely not shared by those that controlled her.

  Kate slipped into the seat beside her master, Vitorio, gazing at the expression of pure joy that beamed from his face. He was engrossed in his second favorite pastime—the music—enthralled by notes that rose from the heart beats and lungs of robust singers on stage. After admiring the look of him, the exhausted member of the club sat back in her chair and listened as the final scenes wound to a close. Just before the final curtain, Vitorio leaned toward her ear. “You’ve been stunning tonight,” he said. “Now, I have to leave for a minute.” With no further explanation, he kissed her cheek and left the box. In the intervening moment she felt alone and unclaimed.

  Minutes later, as the last curtain closed on stage, and a thunderous applause drowned out all other sounds, Kate felt two firm hands on her shoulders. The sureness of their solid grasp sent a comforting wave through her sex weary body.

  “Are you ready to go home, McPherson?” she heard Thad’s voice speak softly in her ear as the applause died away. She turned to gaze into his eyes, seeing not the jovial rascal from the restaurant, but her lost lover, serene and masterfully in charge of her again.

  “I am,” she replied.

  Before he helped her rise, he unfastened the leash from her collar, and pocketed it in his tuxedo. “Just might find a chance to use this some time,” he said as it disappeared.

 

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