by Tawny Taylor
Seconds passed.
Silence.
Thick darkness.
Had I scared them off?
The answer came when that blade returned a third time, this time piercing the skin between my breasts. “The Master will not tolerate this behavior, slave,” a male voice warned.
Furious, I spit.
“Prepare her,” the male voice demanded.
“Prepare me for what?” I squeaked, my throat squeezing tight.
“For pleasure,” the woman whispered in my ear. “Close your eyes. Relax.”
The blade twisted, the tip biting into my skin, and even though I would normally writhe with delight, I bit back a yelp. Then it jerked, and my bra snapped open, the shoulder straps sliding over my shoulders.
More hot tears streamed down my face. “Please stop,” I begged.
“This is what you’ve been seeking,” the woman soothed. “You’ll have everything you’ve always wanted. You’ll see.”
How could she know what I wanted?
“What did you say? Who are you?” I asked.
“There’s nothing to fear. The Master knows why you’ve come to him.”
“Really? How?” Defying all logic, my terror faded. I had told no one the real reason why I’d come here. And even if I had, I couldn’t think of anyone who’d pull a prank this devious. I had no idea who the mysterious woman was. I certainly had no reason to trust her. And yet...I believed her. I wasn’t in danger. “Is this a game?”
The woman giggled. “The Master’s games are wicked. They make me wet.” After a beat, she added, her tone more subdued, “It’s time now, for our slave to submit.”
“Who, me? Submit?”
Unseen fingers explored my body. My stomach. My back. My face and legs.
A jolt of longing blazed through me followed by an icy sting of fear. Oh God, this was exactly what I’d been searching for all this time--a taste of danger blended with carnal heat, the kind of submission no one had ever demanded from me before. Unlike what I’d found at the bondage dungeon, this was real. Not role playing. Not an act. Honest-to-God fear chilled my insides while intense lust licked through my blood.
“He knows your every desire,” the male voice said smoothly, his low, rich voice making even more erotic promises. Cool metal skimmed over my hard nipples, and a moan drifted up my throat. Bone-quaking shudders slammed through my body. Before I could suck in a deep breath, the knife left my breasts to slip beneath the waist of my panties, the tip grazing the skin of my shaved mound.
A whimper of pure desperation slipped from between my clenched lips, and every bit of air inflating my lungs seeped out. Seconds ticked by, measured by the hammering of my heart.
The knife jerked, and my panties fell from my body.
Nude.
The wicked ecstasy.
“Master,” the female voice said with awe.
A soft light ignited in a far corner of the room, a single yellow flame. Dancing on a soft breeze. The weak light punched a ragged hole in the darkness, outlining the shapes of nearby objects. And then the candelabra overhead flared to life, dozens of flames flickering, dancing.
Finally, I recognized where I was. I was in the ballroom. But unlike earlier today, half of it was now furnished with modern day bondage furniture. Kneelers, a couple of benches and tables, a pair of swings and a wooden cross were positioned in the end of the room where I was tied. The other side was still completely empty.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
No answer.
I glanced around but saw no one.
Seconds later, one cloaked figure, face obscured, entered the room through the double doors on the far wall. More people entered behind him, dressed in historical garb. The women were bedecked in glorious silk gowns dripping with lace, their faces covered by ornate masks. The men wore dark suits and masks.
None of them looked at me. It was as if I was invisible.
Music filled the room, and the costumed people started prancing around to the music, an elegant display of beautiful women and mysterious men.
Then the one in the cloak came closer. Closer still. He was male. Large. He stopped directly in front of me, lifted his head. A black mask hid his face. His gaze caught mine.
I gasped.
He had cool blue eyes, the shade of deep ocean waters. Eyes like his.
This was...like a dream.
Without saying a single word, he stepped to my side.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“Silence,” he warned.
I bit my lip. I knew most people in my position would scream. Or plead. Demand. Negotiate. Do whatever it took to gain their freedom. But I didn’t want to escape. I was spellbound. Enthralled.
I watched the dancers.
The music’s pace sped up, the tone changing, and with the shift in the music, the dance transformed from smooth, controlled elegance to something more carnal and wild. The men shed their jackets and shirts and the women gathered their skirts in their gloved hands, dragging them up to expose bare legs and pussies. The couples kissed, they stroked, they grabbed and pulled, licked and bit, took and gave. And by the end of the song, the dance floor was covered with puddles of silk, satin and velvet, and I was caught up in the dancers’ fever, my body trembling and tight.
I had no idea who these people were or why I was chained to the wall. I didn’t feel threatened anymore, only aroused and curious. A part of me longed to be a part of their magical, erotic dance. But more than anything, I desperately wanted to know who the man was at my side.
In my imagination, he was the Master of Sin. My fantasy lover.
Once again, the music changed, the tempo slowing, a heavy bass beat pounding through the room like a heartbeat. It was very sensual music, and what was already an erotic scene took a dark turn. Some of the dancers fell to their knees right there, on the dance floor, placing mouths to pussies or cocks.
Others came closer to me, positioning partners on the benches, tables, and swings. Arms and legs were shackled. And while I stood there, riding the currents of desire churning through my body, Masters and slaves, Doms and submissives played out their fantasies--and mine.
Breathless and trembling, my insides coiling like a spring, and a fever sizzling in my blood, I watched. No one touched me as I watched their games of domination and control, and yet I felt every bite of the whip, every thump of the flogger, and every slap of the paddle. My skin tingled and burned. My pussy ached.
I wanted my Master of Sin.
Touch me. Please. Stop the torture.
Next to me, a raven-haired Domme was fucking a beautiful blonde girl in the ass with a dildo. The girl’s pretty, heart-shaped face was flushed, her gaze fevered. Our eyes met, and I sucked in a gasp when a single tear seeped from the corner of her eye. It was an intense moment, one I knew I’d never forget. Her lips curled into a smile, and she shuddered.
Somehow, impossibly, I felt her orgasm. At the precise moment she came, a current of electricity charged through my body. My knees buckled and I jerked them straight again, whimpering at the cruel man who had yet to touch me. It was no longer a matter of wanting, but of needing now.
The voices of the dancers, their sighs and shouts and cries, grew louder, louder still, until they almost drowned out the music. And with each scream, the heat blistering within my body amped up another dozen degrees.
Yes, oh yes, this was what I’d searched for, what I hadn’t been able to find anywhere. I could hardly breathe, and my legs were about to give out. Slick heat pulsed from my core and coated my inner thighs.
The music stopped. Silence swallowed the room, broken only by the heavy pounding of my heart in my ears.
They all turned to me, eyes glittering with carnal hunger. The man next to me lifted a hand and pulled his mask off.
That face! A gasp swept up my throat and past my lips. It was him. The Master of Sin.
How?
His eyes met mine again, and a jolt of energy charge
d through my body. “Who are you?” I asked, unable to believe what I saw, unwilling to accept the impossible. Men didn’t live for hundreds of years.
“I will be your Master. But only if you pass the tests.” He moved closer, and my body instantly reacted to his nearness. Goose bumps dimpled my skin. My nipples hardened. My pussy throbbed. Every cell in my body ached for his touch and rejoiced in the feral glimmer I saw in his eyes. “Now, it’s time.”
Tests?
He lifted a gloved hand. Black leather stroked my cheek, trailed a gentle touch down the side of my neck. Eyes bore into mine. “I have waited so long for this day, my sweet.”
I realized in that instant that I’d been waiting for this day too, without expecting it would ever come. “Master. I’m yours.”
“Not yet.” Smiling, he trailed a fingertip over my lower lip. “You are so pretty.” That finger traveled lower, along my neck, between my breasts, to a nipple. “Perfect.” He pinched, and a blade of pleasure-pain stabbed through my body.
So wicked. So right.
I felt my lips curling into a smile of sincere joy. My Master knew me. Somehow. Understood my dark desires.
He leaned closer still, until his nose nearly touched mine. “Ask me, pretty slave.” His sweet breath warmed my face.
“More please, Master.”
“Like this?” Seemingly satisfied with my words, he pinched again, injecting another dose of wanton pleasure into my system. His gaze raked down my body then back up. He walked around me, ducked under the chains holding my wrists to stand between my back and the wall, leaving me to look straight ahead at the crowd of onlookers I had almost forgotten. His gloved hands glided over my skin, skimming along my sides, chafing my nipples then traveling down my torso to my mound.
I arched my back, desperate to feel his hot length pressed against my body. Seeming to answer my silent plea, he roughly jerked me against him.
Ahhh, a moment of delicious bliss. But it ended too soon. He slipped around me again.
Thanks to his cruel torment, my body was pulled taut, the heat almost unbearable. Now that he’d given me a taste of forbidden pleasure, I couldn’t live without another.
“More, Master--“
“Silence.” He unfastened my wrists and turned me around so I faced the wall. Then he pushed me roughly to my knees and bound my arms over my head.
How I loved the feeling of utter vulnerability, of knowing that my Master and all those people were feasting on the sight of my body and sharing in this magical moment. I shuddered when that eerie music began again, and the pulse of the drumbeat vibrated through my body. I didn’t know what my Master was about to do. A dozen different emotions were playing through me.
“My slave must hunger for pain, must crave it like nothing else. Do you?”
“Yessss.” I heard the snap of the whip. A second later, its kiss speared my back, just below my right shoulder blade. Glorious pain.
That whip kissed me again and again, the stinging bites of pleasure-pain sending me hurtling to a magical place where I was lost in sensations, where tastes and touches and sounds were as much a part of me as my fingers and toes. Colors swirled and danced behind my shut eyelids. Tastes danced on my tongue and the thrum of the music hummed through my body.
When the lashes stopped, I cried again as I was ripped out of that magnificent place. I opened my eyes to find my Master standing before me, looking pleased and proud.
“Thank you, Master,” I whispered.
His lips curled up into the smile that had haunted my dreams for years, and yet a dark shadow passed across his eyes.
My breath caught in my throat.
I whimpered. “Take me, please.”
His fingers uncurled from around the whip, one at a time. It dropped to the floor, striking the polished surface with a dull thud. “If only I could.” He stooped down, leaning close enough to kiss me. His gaze swept over my face, and for the briefest of moments, I regretted being restrained. I burned with the need to capture his face between my hands and kiss away the dark shadows I glimpsed in his eyes. “But I cannot take my pleasure. Not with you. Not with anyone.”
“Why?”
He shook his head, standing. “No questions.” Once more looking as fierce and wicked as his picture, he unhooked the chain securing my arms over my head and instead attached it to a metal loop bolted to the floor. He pressed on my back, between my shoulder blades, forcing me onto my hands and knees. “It’s time for your second test.” He mapped my curves with his gloved hands, his hot breath and strokes singeing my flesh. Back. Buttocks, legs, breasts, stomach.
I trembled and quaked, sighed and moaned. Whimpered and groaned. Still, my pussy remained empty, my clit untouched. It was agony. Wickedly sweet torture.
He walked around me, stopping directly in front of me just as a pair of rough hands grabbed my hips from behind. The head of someone’s cock prodded at my slick passage. Startled, I lurched forward, throwing a glance over my shoulder. But before I got a look at who was about to drive his cock into me, my Master caught my head in his hands. “No. Look at me. Only at me. If I take you, you will be mine. Always mine and only mine.”
I nodded, settling my eyes on his.
“That’s my cock,” he said, his face pulling taut. “My hands stroking your ass.”
“Yes, Master.” As a wave of blistering heat overtook me, I let my heavy eyelids fall shut, burning the image of my Master’s face into my brain. His jaw, so strong. His mouth, lips that tasted like sweet wine and hot man. His eyes, which drilled through my defenses and saw into my soul.
I trembled as his rod drove deep inside, a hard possession. Fingertips dug into the soft flesh of my hips as my lover pulled, using my body with his to amplify his pleasure.
My Master’s quickened breathing echoed in my head, its pace matching my own. Again and again he drove into me, harder, faster, until our bodies pounded together, the sharp slap of skin striking skin filling the room. My back became slick with sweat. My arms trembled as my legs, spine, and stomach tightened. Closer he pushed me, to the edge of bliss...only to stop and leave me panting and aching for completion.
“No.” I whimpered and crumbled to the floor.
“This is what you’ve been searching for, is it not?” He scooped my chin in his hand and pulled, forcing me over onto my back so that my arms were bent at the elbows, lifted up, wrists still secured to the floor. “You want to be mine.”
I nodded.
“You’ve been dreaming of becoming my possession. Of knowing my touch and tasting my kiss.” He knelt over my chest, his legs straddling me. I could smell him now, the uniquely sensual scent stoking the desire in my body to even greater heights. His warmth swept over my chest and stomach like a soft tropical breeze. “Why do you want me as your Master, slave?” He dropped onto all fours and levered his shoulders lower, until his lips hovered mere inches from mine. “When you could have any Master, why did you come to me?”
“Because...” Why had I become so obsessed over a man who by all rights shouldn’t be standing here right now? I recalled my dreams, all of them so memorable, so lifelike. And then images of the many nights I’d spent exploring the dark side of my passion played through my head. Moments spent with other Masters, men who were just as powerful, attractive and dominant as this one.
What made him so special?
I couldn’t find the words. I didn’t want to. I wanted to taste his kiss, to tremble beneath him as he drove his cock into my body again.
“You realize this is all we can have?” He tipped his head, tilting it to the side so that his breath tickled my ear, my neck. Once more, goose bumps prickled over my arm, my chest.
“Whatever you can give me will be enough.”
His gaze captured mine again. “It will never be enough.” He pushed himself upright again, swung one leg over so he was kneeling beside me. “But tonight you will have everything you’ve been waiting for.”
Again, fingernails dragged over my flesh
, the burning, scratching sensation driving ripples of ecstasy up my arms and down my legs. I knew those weren’t really his fingers clawing at my body, but it didn’t matter. I let myself believe they were, closing my eyes once again and losing myself in the sensations he stirred within me.
Hands hooked under my knees, forcing them up and out until they were spread wide. Straps were fastened around my thighs and a spreader attached so I couldn’t draw them closed. Again, that feeling of utter vulnerability swept over me, stealing my breath and making me dizzy.
The head of a cock pressed between my thrumming tissues, inching slowly into my slick passage. I tightened around it, heightening his pleasure, giving as well as taking. He pulled out and crammed that hard cock into me again. Once, twice, three times. Something slick teased my anus, pressing, invading. My tissues burned and stretched. My body trembled and quaked. I opened my tight hole, accepting a probing finger then a second while his prick pounded into my burning pussy.
Hot. Burning. Ready to melt.
I had to fight for every inhalation. My body was so tight cramps seared my limbs. Arms. Legs. Hands. Feet.
“Take me,” my Master demanded as his cock possessed me, his fingers drilling into my anus.
“Yes, Master.” The tingles of a powerful climax erupted deep in my belly, exploding outward, and I arched my back, rocking my hips up to meet his every thrust. “Coming...”
“No. You may not have release until your Master tells you,” he warned, his voice sharp.
“Oh, God.” I fought to subdue the inferno engulfing me. Flames licked my arms and legs but I couldn’t douse them. I rocked my head from side to side, desperate to throw myself into the blaze, let it burn through me, consume me. “Please...I cannot...”
For the second time, he withdrew, and I was left breathless, on the verge of tears and twitching all over. It took every ounce of my strength to force my eyelids up. “Why?”
