by Grant, Livia
Her eyes closed, shutting out the eager faces watching her. Already there were subs on their knees, mouths occupied with their Dominant’s cock or being fondled. They were distractions, pulling her attention away from Finnegan’s scent wrapping around her and the steady rise and fall of his chest against her bare back.
Time drifted past as they breathed as one. Ava found herself relaxing, leaning into her restraints as she lost herself in Finnegan’s quiet breathing, in the rhythm of her own. She murmured a protest when he stepped away, his hands running across her shoulders, down the length of her back, over her ass and thighs. She felt his fingers pulling her hair into a long tail, the magic of them weaving it into a plait he placed over her shoulder.
She shivered when he muttered, “Fucking perfect.”
Moments later, something light with many strands dragged softly over her shoulders, following the path his hands had taken. Back and forth, back and forth, working down her body in sweeping motions that set her skin humming.
Her head fell forward, rocking with the swing of the flogger.
It reached her thighs, making her shudder as the fronds caressed sensitive flesh, then returned to her shoulders. A little harder but maintaining the same soothing rhythm. Back and forth, back and forth.
Over and over, he teased her with the motion from shoulders to thighs, each volley growing in strength. Her skin began to sing, warmth turning to heat. Good, healing heat that wormed inside her to the bad places.
“Color?”
“G-green, Sir?”
“That’s my girl. Stepping it up now,” Finnegan told her quietly.
She lurched forward as the snap of the flogger grew harder, striking high across her back. These weren’t soft strands lashing her now; she was beaten deliciously with heavy fronds that thudded the ache deep into muscle. An ache mirrored in her pussy, her womb.
Master Finnegan crisscrossed her back with the new implement, moving down, down, down until the flogger snapped hard across her ass. Left, right, left, right. Snap, snap, snap.
Riding the burn—so much better than she’d ever achieved with a blade against her skin—Ava offered her bottom instinctively, moaning pitifully. She was close enough to orgasm she could see it floating in front of her like a hot, bright sun.
“If you come without my permission, your ass will know about it,” Finnegan warned ominously. He didn’t even sound out of breath, yet she was a limp, sweaty, burning mess perilously tempted to forfeit her ass’s safety in favor of coming… and coming… and coming… “Color, little dove.”
White, she thought. Everything seemed so white and pure.
“Green,” she slurred softly, smiling as the word slipped through her lips like a whispered dream. She liked it here—the voices were gone, pain was her beautiful, wonderful master, and her body was alive in ways she’d never experienced.
She arched into the next blow then squealed as the backswing hit. It didn’t thud over her skin, it seared. Her cry of surprise morphed into a moan of pain as the sting spread over her flesh. Before she could catch her breath, pain pounded over her shoulders followed swiftly by the lash.
Oblivious to everything but the beauty of the strike, she came.
* * *
Finn
Sneaky little minx slipped that one through, Finn mused as he upped his rhythm and watched her legs tremble through her orgasm. Most submissives he’d had opportunity to play with would have given in and called yellow by now, but Ava was shuddering through her orgasm and sagging in her bonds like a queen.
She’d pay for the orgasm, of course, but she was a fighter.
His eyes met Owen’s in the glow of the dim lighting, the DM lurking in the shadows among the spectators. Owen nodded once in approval and drifted back from whence he came.
When Ava’s feet slipped out from beneath her, Finn dropped the floggers and looped an arm around her waist, taking her weight off the restraints as she sagged. Her skin was the most impressive shade of pink, scored with heavier red marks from the knotted flogger, and thin, glowing welts from his new rubber one.
“Oh… my… God,” Ava purred reverently as his hand skimmed over her shoulders. She stayed limp in his grasp as he lifted her a little, unclipping her cuffs one-handed. “I didn’t think anything could make me feel better than cutting.”
Finn bared his teeth and, before he could stop himself, cracked his open palm on the smooth curve of her butt. She yelped, hips jerking forward, and gripped his arm as he carried her to the spanking bench, pressing her face to the cool leather by her nape. “Do you know how mad it makes me to think of you desecrating this beautiful body with a blade?” he demanded. “Don’t make me add to your punishment; you’ve earned one already for coming without permission.”
With her ass already warmed up nicely from the flogging, Finn had no qualms about going to town on her with his hand. His world narrowed down to the snap of flesh on flesh, Ava’s grunted ah of pain with each spank, and the incessant throbbing of his cock trapped in his stupid jeans.
“M-Master Finnegan, p-p-please!”
Damn it all, how was he supposed to punish her when her ass lifted into every harsh slap? He tightened his fingers on her neck, heard her mewl. “Stay right here, little dove. Move an inch and what I give you next will be twice as bad. Understand me?”
“Y-Yes, Sir!” she panted, gripping the edge of the bench desperately.
His cock protested as he stepped away to retrieve his bag, rummaging through for the toys sealed in clear plastic baggies. He studied a couple, chose his weapon, and with baggie and lube in hand, returned to his sub. From the copious drops of arousal gathered along her slit, lube wasn’t strictly necessary—she was providing him with more than enough of her own. “Pain isn’t just your escape method, is it, Ava? It’s your drug, your high. I could fuck your ass without lube and you’d scream, you’d cry, but I bet you’d fucking beg me for more.”
A strangled groan matched the one rippling around the spectator circle. More than one couple were engaged in service—he spotted three subs on their knees, hair fisted in their Dominant’s hands as they were throat-fucked almost in sync with each other. It was poetic. Another sub, a middle-aged woman with her breasts wrapped in Shibari bondage, bent over toward the scene while her tank of a Dom fucked her enthusiastically from behind.
Finn set the items down and twisted Ava’s braid around his wrist, pulling her head upright from the pool of saliva gathering beneath her cheek. Carefully, he manipulated her movement so she could see everything happening around them without damaging her neck. “See all these nice people, Ava? They’re here to see you in all your glory. They want to see perfection submit to dominance.”
Her eyes fluttered as she smiled up at him.
“Are you submitting to me, little dove?”
“I… yes, Sir.”
“Sure about that? Because good girls don’t come when their Master tells them not to. They don’t push their asses out for the flogger.” He reached down between her spread legs and shoved his thumb into her pussy, biting back his own groan as muscles sucked at him frantically. “They certainly don’t get this wet at the thought of punishment.”
“I’m not. It’s you. It’s all you, Sir,” she whimpered.
“All this is for me?” he murmured in her ear, bending down to keep the moment between them. “All this slick juice is just for me, hmm? That must mean this cunt is mine,” he added, fucking the tightest pussy he’d ever had the pleasure of touching with his thumb. “And this ass must belong to me, too—how fucking lucky am I?”
Her stunning eyes rounded into moons when he removed his digit from velvet wetness and pressed it against resisting muscle. She squeaked out a breath, stiffening as he pushed firmly until the breadth of his thumb pierced her.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck me.”
“Are you gonna make me feel like a king, little dove, and tell me I’m the first to be in this perfect hole? Because it sure as fuck feels like it.” Finn grinne
d down at her when her mouth dropped open. He might be the first, but she liked it. “Say it, Ava. Say the words that’ll make me real happy.”
She whined. “You’re the first in my ass, Master Finnegan. Jesus, I need more. Please, I-I need…”
“I know what you need.” He withdrew his thumb with a pop, felt her shudder. Unwrapping her hair from his wrist, he eased her head back onto the table, reaching for the baggie and removing the butt plug. Longer as opposed to thicker, it was a beginner’s plug and perfect to keep her occupied for the remainder of their scene.
Across the room, one of the Roulette Doms stalked up to a DM with his submissive in tow. The woman seemed unsteady on her feet, and the Dom was clearly not happy. Attention caught by the drama, Finn absently slipped the plug between her labia, thrusting the cold metal into heat as arms began to wave and the submissive fought with the DM over her bag.
Ava’s filthy moan of approval brought him back to his own sub. While he appreciated drama—he didn’t need it right now. His cock was providing more than enough entertainment trying to force its way through his zipper.
“Deep breath, Ava. Push out.” He dragged the blunt tip of the plug up to her anus, notching it, inserting it slowly as Ava’s hips danced against the edge of the bench. He gave her ass a slap and returned to his bag. “Now that you’re all warmed up, I think we can finish the scene with a bang.”
Her ass clenched.
“A-a bang?” she asked tremulously.
Finn slipped a long blue velvet sheath from his bag, untied the strings at the top, and slid the toy onto his palm. Sixteen custom-made inches of rock maple formed into a honey dipper—a damned big one. He ran it through his hands, making sure the wood was as smooth as it looked. It could double as a dildo in a heartbeat, but he intended to use it for its original purpose.
“What is that?” she whispered nervously. “You could knock a Rottweiler out with that thing!”
His smile was slow and ominous yet didn’t stop her pretty pussy from clenching. His little dove loved to fly, and she wasn’t afraid of taking the hard ride home. He spun it around in his fingers like a baton, testing the weight, then set it beside her head and felt the blood surge through his veins when she slowly licked her lips.
Chapter 5
Ava
He was going to beat her to death with Winnie the Pooh’s spoon.
Master Finnegan stared down at her as he flicked open the button on his shirt cuff and rolled the material up a muscular arm bearing a deep tan, with scars of his own, and dark hairs. The tendons in his forearm flexed and released, much to her delight.
His was the kind of forearm she could gnaw happily on, licking the salt from his skin. Hell, she’d go to bed cuddling the damn thing. But if his arms were this hot… what about the rest of him?
When the material bunched above his elbow, he repeated the action with his other arm, deft fingers working quickly. Deft, firm fingers that curled around the smooth end of the stick capably and slapped it down hard on his palm with a meaty connection.
Ava bit her lip.
Jesus, that was a raw sound. She flinched when his hand stroked down her body in one long glide, cursed herself for showing the weakness. Gathering herself behind her wall, she waited for her Master to unleash hell on her presented buttocks, but he just caressed her tight muscles with his calloused touch until some of the tension eased.
“Better,” he told her decisively, giving her tender butt a quick pat, jostling the plug. “When you’re wound tight, it’ll hurt more. I’m not aiming to give you a panic attack, Ava. I want you to open yourself to the pain, breathe it, live it, become it. You’ve become used to letting it control you, dictating to you when and how you need it.”
She sighed, nodding her agreement with her cheek slicked with cool saliva. Somehow, a stranger could see right through her darkest, most painful and shameful secret. He had every right to turn away from her, to discard her back to the reject heap and spend the night drinking at the very impressive bar behind them, but he’d buckled down, taken her straight into submission, and earned her trust.
She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of people she trusted.
She was used to being stared at, ridiculed, lambasted for who she was and what she was driven to do. People stared at her scars as though she were a freak, and even if she had them covered up, her paranoia screamed at her to say they could see through the clothes to her weakness.
Master Finnegan watched her like she was a diamond glinting in the sun.
Precious. Rare. Beautiful.
“When you’re with me, little dove, I’m the one in control. I’ll be the one dictating to you how and when you take me in whatever hole I please, whenever I fucking want.” His fingernails bit lightly into the nape of her neck, dragged down her spine over sensitive skin and raised welts to the bump of her raised buttocks, eliciting a sharp squeal from her lips. “I’ll ask you outright, Ava, before we wrap up this lovely little scene: do you trust me?”
“Yes, Sir.” There was a vehemence in her tone that hadn’t been in it before. A surety. Ava nodded again as her confidence swelled, in him, and in herself.
“Will you trust me to take care of you even as I hurt you?” He dragged the rounded tip of the implement in his hand down the shallow valley of her spine.
She closed her eyes, blew out a long slow breath. She knew what came next. “I think you’re the only one I do,” she murmured. Her cuffed hands gripped the head of the bench. “Maybe the only one I can.”
His response was the backs of his fingers brushing over her cheek before he moved away. “We’re going for ten, little dove. Move and I’ll tie you down. Remember to breathe.”
The only warning she got was a quick double-tap of wood against flesh. The initial strike was gentle compared to the harder smack of the second but combined… oh boy. It took everything she had not to rear up and howl as the sting stabbed into her ass.
Opening her eyes and glancing over her shoulder, she saw Master Finnegan flip the toy in his hand, catching it easily and laying another double-tap swiftly beneath his last target.
Tap, smack, thud.
Tap, smack, sting.
Tap, smack, thud.
The rhythm caught her up, tossed her into the serenity she usually found when she huddled in the corner of the bathroom, blood trickling down her wrists. The faster he struck, the harder wood met flesh, the deeper she sank into peace until the murmur of the audience faded away into the rush of blood pulsing through her ears.
Tap, smack, thud.
The plug in her ass detonated like a bomb, sending waves of vibrations spiraling up her spine, forcing her pussy to spasm greedily around nothing. A keening cry erupted from her throat, strangling her, as her body arched and bucked.
Heavy weight covered her, an arm banded around her chest over the tops of her breasts while another slipped between her hips and the edge of the bench as she banged against it. “Ride it out, Ava. There’s a good girl. I’ve got you.”
Splinters of pleasure and pain intertwined, urging nonsensical babble to spill from her lips. Her fingers scrabbled against the bench top, needing to hold on to something before she spun away and became lost in the chaos.
“Steady, Ava.” Finnegan’s rumbling voice purred against her ear. “Listen to me now. Open yourself to it, little dove. I’ve got you safe.” The heat of him scorched her back and she was burning up from the inside out.
She dropped her head to the bench, breathing hard and shuddering as pleasure continued to thrum through her body like she was a maze of wires and the orgasm was a jolt of electricity. A moan hummed in her throat. She arched against the body at her back, her skin quivering with the contact. Mindlessly caught in the spin and swirl of the chaos he wreaked upon her, she listened to Finn’s patient, nurturing murmurs as her system started to settle.
There was a God after all, and he smelled like the earth. Clean, fresh, with an oaky undertone.
Ava wanted
to giggle, but found it quickly tightened her throat and brought tears to her eyes. Her emotions rocketed from top of the world to lowest of the low, and she wondered what he thought of her. She wasn’t clean or fresh; she’d been dragged through hell by her hair and it had stained her.
“Color, little dove.” Finn’s mouth brushed against her ear.
She tried to croak out green, but it came out strangled. Clearing her throat, swallowing down tears, she gave it another attempt and managed to form the word without betraying herself. “Green, Sir.”
“Are you sure? You flew pretty high there.”
“Don’t worry about me, Sir, please. I’m not worth it.”
Her Dom snarled furiously, and she shrank into herself beneath him and waited for hell to rain down on her head. He slipped his arms free, deepening her fear, then grasped her by the shoulders, straightening her carefully from her bent position and turning her into him. When he wrapped her up in his embrace,
She buried her face against Finn’s shoulder and trembled.
“Remind me to spank your ass later for that comment,” Finn rumbled. “Don’t ever put yourself down that way again.”
Her mumbled, “Yes, Sir,” was barely audible.
“Everything okay here?” A stern voice joined the fray, and Ava cringed. Her current position shielded her bare pussy but she was positive the metal end of the butt plug was the focal point for several pairs of eyes. “Master Finnegan?”
“No problem, Spencer.” Finn’s voice was easy. “Ava’s just telling me how I shouldn’t be worrying over how hard she just came apart. Would you do me a favor and pass me that blanket?”
Something warm draped over her back and she burrowed deeper into Finn when he lifted her effortlessly, bracing her on his hip like a child. She just wanted to go to sleep exactly where she was and forget about the mortification of this scenario. Even with the blanket covering her, she was sure the plug in her ass was screaming for attention..
