Signed, Sealed & Delivered

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Signed, Sealed & Delivered Page 12

by Sierra Cartwright

“Are you sure?” she asked.

  “You’re stretched wider than this now,” Thomas told her.

  “Not convinced.”

  “He’s right,” Ethan said.

  Thomas withdrew his fingers.

  She drew a deep breath.

  “Now,” Ethan he said.

  He began slowly, working the plug in and out, letting her get used to it. It got wider in three places, and its shape reminded her of a tree.

  “You’re past the first notch,” Ethan said.

  Was it possible to be completely seduced and undone by rich timbre of a man’s voice? If so, she could come just from his encouraging words.

  The second notch was much more difficult. “Damn it,” she protested. “It hurts.”

  “You’re doing well.”

  He never let her off the hook. She supposed she’d eventually be grateful. Now she was just frustrated.

  Thomas fucked her with the plug, in and out, deeper.

  She felt a slight difference, a painful one, and she took a shaky breath.

  “Second ridge,” Ethan said.

  This was going to tear her apart, she was convinced of it. She was miserable.

  Thomas continued to work the plug, in out, adding a little force on the inward thrust.

  She wasn’t well behaved, thrashing about.

  “Stop it,” Ethan said. “Practice your breathing and stop acting petulant. Relax your arsehole.”

  Still, her Master read her well and knew what she needed. He came in closer and started to rub her clit. Distracted by the pleasure, she relaxed.

  Thomas sank the plug home.

  She gasped.

  “You’re there,” Thomas said.

  “Now,” Ethan said, “don’t you feel proud of yourself for taking that plug?”

  When she got her breath back, she might.

  “I’m proud of you,” he said.

  Her heart soared. Any discomfort, any pain, any torment, it was all worthwhile to hear that warm approval in his voice.

  This whole submissive thing wasn’t what she expected when she’d emailed him and relentlessly tracked him down.

  She expected it to be like the clubs, kind of like playing with Tony, only a little more intense, a bit more a thrill ride, sort of like a roller coaster at an amusement park.

  She hadn’t been prepared, even though she said she was, for him to take all of her inhibitions and blast right through them. She’d thought she knew what he meant. She truly hadn’t had a clue.

  Now, here she was, lying on a table exposed, a gigantic plug in her butt. And, if she were honest, she did feel proud of herself. She’d gotten past another hang up; she’d pleased Master.

  “She looks lovely, Ethan.”

  “Indeed she does. Nothing like having a sub’s holes well used. Maybe we’ll always keep her stuffed full like this.”

  Thomas laughed, and she was sure the sound was purely diabolical.

  From somewhere in the distance, she heard a bell, it sounded like a doorbell.

  “Our company is here,” Ethan said.

  “Company?” she asked.

  “I’ll meet you in the drawing room?” Thomas asked.

  “We’ll be along directly,” Ethan said.

  “Company?” she asked again when Thomas left, closing the door behind him.

  “David Malchovy,” he said. “Celia’s husband. He’s here to witness his wife’s punishment.”

  “What?” She pushed herself up on her elbows, not minding that she was being disobedient. “You’re actually going to punish her?”

  “I understand you two were not following orders upstairs. She was to clean you up and rub cream into your skin so you didn’t bruise. You two were not to be naughty sluts.”

  “But…”

  “Thomas told her I’d see to her.”

  “Yes.” She searched his face. His jaw was set in an implacable line. There was no trace of teasing. This was a man determined to do what he says.

  “A Master always follows through on what he says. There can be no equivocation.”

  Alana’s stomach was a mass of butterflies.

  “Think on it, Alana. If I were to punish you sometimes for certain infractions but not others, where would the consistency be? How would you ever learn to trust what I said?”

  Trust.

  The key component in what they did. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “You don’t need to be so grudging,” he said.

  His eyes had lightened a shade or two. Was he actually teasing her?

  “You have a choice, though. Would you like to take a punishment with her?”

  Get a public spanking in front of Celia’s husband? Not a chance.

  But how could she let Celia take all the punishment for something Alana herself had wanted?

  Ethan put the table extension back in place. “Scoot back,” he told her.

  She did, aware of the unyielding plug between her arse cheeks.

  He took her feet from the stirrups and said, “Sit up.”

  The plug seemed to drive even deeper into her. She wiggled about, trying to get comfortable.

  “You’ll be there to witness her beating. You’ll be on your knees. And you’re to keep quiet. If you don’t think you can do that, say so now and I’ll gag you before going in.”

  “I’ll be quiet.”

  He drew his brows together.

  “Honestly.”

  He nodded. “We’ll see.”

  He didn’t help her down from the table, and her legs were a little unsteady for a few seconds. Seeming to know this would happen, he waited a few moments, his right shoulder propped against the door jamb.

  She followed him down the hallway towards the drawing room. The plug seemed to shift constantly, although it probably actually didn’t. Still, she was very much aware of its unyielding, unpleasant existence.

  Ethan used his cane only slightly. She’d noticed that sometimes he leaned on it heavily. Other times, he hardly used it at all.

  And having a cane had never once prevented Master from thoroughly using or beating her.

  Outside the door, he stopped and turned back to look at her.

  She heard the soft sounds of voices coming from inside the room.

  “You’ll follow me in and kneel near the fireplace,” Ethan instructed. “You may keep your knees as close together as comfortable. You’ll be aware of the plug, and I want you aware of it.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Again, you’re to be silent, no matter what.”

  “Good subs are seen and not heard.”

  “Indeed.” He lifted her chin with his forefinger. “Unless you’re whimpering from my whip.”

  Which she’d done at least once and suspected she’d do again.

  “Observe, Alana. Later we’ll talk about what you learned. Any questions?”

  His tenderness nearly made her want to kneel right then and there. “What should I do with my hands?”

  “Surely you don’t need to ask that question?”

  “In the absence of further instruction,” she said, repeating his words from the first day, “they’re to be behind my neck.”

  “Excellent,” he said. “And did I give further instruction?”

  When she only shook her head, he released his hold on her.

  “Right then. Don’t disappoint me Alana by misbehaving.”

  She realised her actions would be a reflection on Ethan and his training.

  “If you’re ready?”

  He didn’t wait for her assent, instead, he went into the drawing room. Alana followed as instructed, and she was stunned to see Celia in the middle of the room, naked, her slender body on display as she knelt, her knees spread as far apart as possible, looking adoringly up at a man Alana didn’t recognise.

  For a woman about to get beaten, she looked surprisingly serene.

  Chapter Twelve

  All the attention was on Celia, and no one seemed to even notice Alana as she knelt near
the fireplace and put her hands behind her neck.

  “You know why Ethan will be punishing you, Celia?” her husband asked.

  “Because I was licking Alana’s cunt.”

  Alana squeezed her hands together. She couldn’t truly be watching this.

  “Thomas rang me to explain the situation.”

  Alana expected to see the other woman bow her head in shame. She didn’t. In fact, she didn’t seem at all repentant for putting her face between Alana’s thighs.

  “And since you’re under Ethan’s house, subject to his rules, he’ll be the one to punish you.”

  “Thank you,” she told David.

  There was Alana’s first lesson. The other woman had much better manners than Alana did. In fact, she hadn’t thanked Thomas or Ethan for plugging her, and for their patience while doing so. They hadn’t needed to take so much time, she knew, and she was fortunate they had.

  “Do you submit to his punishment?”

  “I do, Master.”

  Celia’s words weren’t little squeaks like Alana’s often were. She sounded confident and sure of herself, and sure of what she wanted. It didn’t sound to Alana as if Celia were being coerced into anything, she was actually enjoying this.

  David moved to a wing chair and accepted a drink from Thomas.

  It was interesting, being an observer.

  She saw subtleties she often missed, like Thomas’ subservient nature. She’d been terribly aware of him dominating her, but now she saw him anticipating others’ needs and acting on them. He was more than just a servant. And, although he’d told her Ethan wasn’t his Master, the man treated him with that much respect. Of course, who couldn’t? The man naturally dominated any situation he was in.

  “Fetch me a gag,” Ethan said.

  Moments later, Thomas gave him one.

  Unlike Alana, Celia didn’t protest. Instead, she said, “Thank you,” and opened her mouth wide.

  Show off.

  Celia closed her eyes while Ethan shoved the gag a bit deeper. Then Thomas moved behind her and secured it in place with the buckle.

  Instead of a protest, she opened her eyes again and looked up at Ethan, awaiting his next direction.

  Alana had a long way to go.

  “Drape yourself over the kneeling bench.”

  She rose with practiced ease, with a beauty Alana could only aspire to. Even in her free time, she vowed, she’d be voluntarily doing her exercises. Where Alana was gangly and uncertain, the taller, more slender woman was elegance in motion.

  She took hold of the sides and draped herself over the bench. There wasn’t another word for it. Each motion was effortless. As she spread her legs, Alana noticed that Celia was also wearing a plug.

  Instead of a latex one like hers, Celia’s was glass. If she were closer, she’d be able to see inside the woman. And it was far bigger at the base.

  Despite all she’d learned in the past few days, she realised how much farther she had to go.

  This atmosphere wasn’t like the clubs. David, Thomas, Celia, Ethan…they weren’t people who dressed up in leather and dabbled in BDSM on Saturday nights, instead, it was an integral part of who they were.

  She wondered which one she was.

  Did she just want to dabble on weekends? Did she just want an occasional spanking? Or did she want BDSM to be a constant part of her lifestyle?

  Celia didn’t look unhappy.

  And half the people Alana worked with did. They were always counting the days until Friday. Wednesday was hump day, half way through the week. Then they came back on Monday morning, tired, depressed, dragging through until Wednesday to start the hump day celebration again.

  In fact, she had been there, herself.

  Was it enough?

  And if it wasn’t, how would she adapt to a different kind of life?

  Without being told, Celia turned her feet slightly inward, and, from this vantage, Alana appreciated why Ethan instructed to do it. Not only were Celia’s thighs more accessible to a whip, but her body looked lovely.

  Alana was anxious to tell Ethan what she’d learned.

  “Show me your safe signal, Celia,” Ethan said.

  She raised her hand.

  Ethan kept his left hand balanced on his cane, and he accepted a tawse from Thomas. “I’ll warm you up,” he told the sub, “and then the beating will commence.”

  She wiggled her ass, but Alana could see it wasn’t in protest like her wiggling would have been. It was more like Celia was preparing herself to welcome the lash.

  Alana watched, fascinated, as her Master gently used the tawse on Celia’s thighs and rear end. She barely moved, and Alana could swear she heard Celia sigh in satisfaction.

  Her body became heated, but she never released her light grip on the sides of the bench.

  “Are you ready?”

  In response, she turned her toes a little more inward and she rose up just a bit, exposing more of her pussy to view.

  Alana noticed that David stared transfixed at his wife. He sipped his brandy, and, even from here, she noticed that his dick was hard. Celia was in for a fun evening, and Alana was a little jealous.

  Thomas came over and stood next to Alana. He fisted his hand in her hair, making sure she watched the entire event. As if she could do otherwise.

  “Ten of his best,” Thomas said quietly.

  Then the tawse cut through the air.

  Celia jerked. Alana gasped.

  “Quiet,” Thomas whispered.

  The second stroke landed on Celia’s right thigh. She jerked again before settling. She hadn’t made a single sound, though.

  Ethan was being intentional with every stroke he delivered, Alana realised after the fourth fell. He’d started low on her thigh, and he alternated sides as he moved higher.

  The fifth caught that tender space where her thigh met her buttocks.

  Then, startling everyone, he landed one right on her cunt.

  She dropped her position for a fraction of a second while she absorbed the blow. David stroked his cock while he watched. And Ethan traced a fingertip from the plug to her pubic bone.

  “Your wife’s pussy is wet, David.”

  “She’s a pain slut,” he said.

  Ethan went back to work, and he concentrated the next few hits in the same general area, on the fleshiest part of her butt cheeks.

  He landed the ninth again below her cheeks, searing both thighs at the same time.

  He finished up the way he’d done the middle stroke, by placing a lightning hot, lightning fast stroke to her exposed pussy.

  She pressed backwards a bit, silently inviting him to continue if he wished.

  Alana definitely had a few things to learn.

  His hand gripping her hair more firmly, Thomas said, “I suggest that our naughty Alana put some arnica on Celia’s hindquarters so she doesn’t bruise.”

  “Excellent idea,” Ethan said. “Since that’s what started the whole thing.”

  All eyes were now on Alana.

  She thought she’d rather prefer being ignored.

  She was very much aware of her naked body, the plug, and the fact she was going to have to touch another woman.

  Thomas’ hand was on her head, and he forced her to nod.

  “Cream is in the sideboard,” Thomas said. “See to her.”

  Ethan dropped the tawse and joined David in the wing chairs.

  “Nicely done,” David said.

  “Always a pleasure.”

  Always a pleasure? Did that mean they did this often?

  Her pulse thundering, she stood. She wasn’t as graceful as Celia, not even close. But at least she didn’t make a fool of herself.

  Thomas released his grip, and she took a breath before finding the cream and squirting a dollop into her palm.

  The men watched silently as she massaged the cream into the reddened, tender areas of Celia’s thighs and ass cheeks. This close, she could smell the other woman’s arousal, and she could see how w
et she was. Celia had enjoyed every minute of the beating, no doubt.

  “You may kneel,” Ethan told Alana when she was finished. “Celia, you may stand and thank Alana for her attentions. First, though, will you gag her? Her gag is in the sideboard drawer.”

  Alana sought out Ethan’s gaze. Was he serious? Instead of looking at her, though, he was looking at Celia.

  This was Alana’s ultimate test so far.

  She was determined not to fail in front of all of these people.

  Thomas unbuckled Celia’s gag, and she didn’t seem embarrassed at all by the drool. Instantly, she said, “Thank you, Master Ethan. I enjoyed that beating immensely.”

  “Behave yourself or you’ll be getting another.”

  The woman actually grinned. Then she crossed to her own Master who wiped her face with a flannel Thomas had provided. Then she kissed his hand and told him, “Thank you for allowing Master Ethan to beat me.”

  “Oh, you’ll pay later, wench.”

  “Thank you!”

  Is that what the men meant by Celia being a pain slut?

  Then, horrified, Alana watched while Celia went to the sideboard and grabbed a gag. All the men were watching as Celia stood behind Alana.

  “Open your mouth.”

  Alana found no reassurance in Ethan’s face, but she lowered her gaze and submitted to being gagged without causing a fuss.

  “Good girl,” Thomas said.

  Celia buckled the strap one notch tighter than the Ethan had. It was uncomfortable, but she forced herself to concentrate on her breathing.

  “Now thank her,” David told Celia.

  This time, this time, Alana was sure the floor would open up and swallow her. Celia laid on the floor and scooted between Alana’s legs.

  “Lower yourself,” Ethan said.

  Face flushing to match the detested gag, she did.

  She felt the other woman’s tongue on her clit and delving into her pussy. The men enjoyed the show, and she heard Ethan and David make a ten pound bet on how long it would take her to climax.

  Celia dug her fingers into Alana’s ass, spreading her cheeks,

  Behind the gag, she cried out.

  She looked at Ethan again, silently asking his permission to come.

  He nodded.

  In less than five minutes, her own libido in sensual overdrive from being plugged and from watching the beauty of Ethan’s beating, Alana came, shamelessly, joyfully, grinding her cunt against Celia’s face. Ethan won the bet. At this point, it wouldn’t have mattered at all to Alana whose tongue was caressing her pussy. All she knew was that she was desperate to come.

 

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