by Megan West
The blows were coming faster now, and she could see sweat gleaming on the man’s forehead. Andrew moved closer to her, either of his own volition or because the whole crowd was bearing forward, trying to get a better view.
The girl’s back was arched so hard that Katherine thought it must hurt her, but she showed no signs of anything but pleasure in the pain. She was moaning in earnest now, her feet flexed so her toes pressed into the stone, and Katherine could see the muscles of the girl’s arms tense as the man struck again.
“Twenty strokes,” Andrew murmured. “She really is well-trained.”
The man on stage stepped back. The girl’s ass was patterned with welts, crisscrossed over her white flesh. She was breathing heavily. “Spread your legs, slave,” the man commanded. The girl did so, widening her stance so that the space between her thighs was clearly visible to the crowd. There was a collective intake of breath from the crowd.
She was dripping wet, dampness clearly visible on her thighs. The man stroked the cane up the insides of her legs, and the girl trembled, her ass pushing out towards the man in eager anticipation. “Five strokes,” he said, his voice carrying out, “and then you may come.”
Katherine turned to look at Andrew. “What is he talking about?”
“Just watch.”
She faced the stage again. The man stroked the cane up the inside of the girl’s thighs again, and then he struck, the cane whistling through the air as it landed directly between the girl’s legs. Every muscle in the girl’s body tensed, and she moaned with heavy breath. Katherine shuddered. She could see that it must have struck the girl’s clit.
“How can that feel good?” Katherine hissed, her voice a whisper.
Andrew shrugged. “It does, to her.”
The man struck again, and Katherine saw the chain tremble. The girl was rigid, panting, her hips moving back to meet each stroke of the cane. Twice more, and then the man paused.
“Once more,” he said, and then he struck, this one the hardest of all.
Katherine would never have believed it if she hadn’t been there to see it. The girl convulsed as if on command. Her muscles, tight already, spasmed in a powerful orgasm, the effects of it rippling out over her body. Her head flung back, her blonde hair spilling over her back, and she moaned loudly, the sound drawing out into a screech as her body convulsed.
One more deep shudder, and then she slumped over the bench, limp and exhausted. The man stepped back, and the crowd started to cheer. The slave was allowed a moment to recuperate. Then she stood, allowing the crowd a view of her reddened ass, flushed skin and wet thighs, before she turned to face them. She bowed slightly, and turned to follow her master off of the stage.
Two leather-clad girls rushed up on the stage to remove the bench, and Katherine felt Andrew’s hand touch her waist. “What did you think?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Your friend will be next.”
Katherine took a sip of her drink and shifted her weight from one heel to the other. Her feet were starting to hurt. The shift brought her suddenly against Andrew, who was dangerously close to her. Her ass brushed against him and her breath stilled in shock when she felt him. He was hard as a rock.
The knowledge sent a sudden spark of pleasure through her, and his hand suddenly felt hot against her waist. He sensed the tension in her body and he shifted closer to her. Both his hands were on her waist now, and he bent his lips to her neck, brushing them softly against the skin.
“I think you want me, Katherine,” he murmured. All around them, she could see that the others in the crowd were having similar reactions. Couples were kissing, or grinding softly against each other with silent moans. One woman was rubbing her hand over the front of her partner’s pants, her fingers curling around the obvious bulge in his jeans.
“You’re very self-assured,” Katherine murmured, trying to think through the fog of lust that was slowly settling over her. The air felt heavy and thick, his hands like hot coal against her skin. She wondered, if she went with him after this, what he might want her to do? She felt submissive and willing suddenly, as if she might try anything, as long as he suggested it.
“I can read you very well, Katherine.” His lips drew up her throat to her ear, his tongue flicking out to caress the outer edge. “I think maybe you were made for me.”
Any other man would have sounded ridiculous saying that. But from his mouth, husky and rough, it sounded perfectly plausible.
The heavy door creaked open, and the buzz of sound in the crowd suddenly went silent. Katherine saw Bethany come out, but a completely different Bethany than the jeans and t-shirt clad girl that she saw most days.
She was wearing latex shorts over black fishnets, her feet slipped into six-inch heels. Katherine had seen her naked before, and knew she had small breasts, but the tight black latex corset she’d been laced into pushed them together and up so they looked like they might spill out. Her hair was French-braided tightly against her head, the thick end of the braid swinging against her back, her pale skin showing through the laces.
Her eyes were darkly lined and thickly fringed with mascara. Her lips were crimson red. In her hand she had a heavy bullwhip, coiled in her fingers. She stepped to the side, and out walked a man, completely nude except for his thick black collar and pierced nipples. He walked out in front of her, up the stairs, and stood, legs shoulder-width apart, a few inches in front of the massive wooden X that had been set up in the center where the bench had been before.
He was one of the most gorgeous men that Katherine had ever seen, except perhaps the one standing behind her now. In truth, there was hardly any comparison. Andrew was clean-cut, collected, a sharply dressed businessman.
The man on stage was anything but lean. His abdomen was flat and carved, his legs thick trunks of muscle. Katherine was sure she couldn’t have wrapped half of her hand around his bicep. He had thick hair that fell to his shoulders, and his eyes were a piercing green.
“They choose men built like that on purpose,” Andrew whispered. “It’s much more enjoyable to watch a man of that size be subdued by your friend, there.”
Katherine had to admit that even in her heels, Bethany was dwarfed by the man. The heels put her closer to his height, her nose perhaps coming to his collarbone, but her body looked remarkably thin and frail in comparison. That was, until she uncoiled the whip and cracked it, the muscles in her arm suddenly visible as she snapped the heavy leather.
The man bent his head, backing up and turning to face away from the audience, facing the wooden St. Andrew’s cross. Bethany reached up, buckling the leather cuffs around his wrists and bending down to fasten them around his ankles, His feet were pressed flat against the stone, his body spread out into an X shape. Katherine could see his balls hanging, heavy between his legs. His cock was half stiff, daring to go erect.
Bethany took a step back and cracked the whip again. The man’s muscles tensed, his ass flexing. There was an appreciative murmur from the crowd. Katherine was staring, unbelieving. It was so strange to see her friend up there, about to whip a chained man.
She took a few more steps back, and then she struck him for the first time, the heavy whip connecting with the flesh of his back. The man was silent, his hands fisting against the wood, but he was otherwise motionless. While the cane had left thin marks on the girl, the whip left thick red welts along the length of the man’s back, glowing in the light against his tanned skin. The audience could see the muscles in Bethany’s back and arms flex as she struck again, rocking in her stilettos with the aggressive motion of the whip.
They could all see how deceptively frail her physique was. She seemed entirely capable now of subduing the monster of a man. Her eyes narrowed, her full lips pursed in concentration as she struck three more times, hitting each time in a precise spot across his shoulders and back.
The man’s muscles were tensing, his body shifting a bit now as he took the blows of the whip, the welts
rising up thickly in succession. Bethany worked her way methodically down his back, leaving a similar pattern to the one the man before had left on the girl bent over the bench.
Katherine shifted her weight again, some of her arousal leaving her. She wasn’t getting the same effect from seeing the man’s back whipped, although she could definitely appreciate the sight of his thick muscles in his back and ass flexing as he took each hit. But Andrew was still touching her, his hands sliding over her waist and hips, his body pressing closely to hers. She felt her body soften against him, leaning into his touch, the heat building in her core again.
The whip now focused squarely on the man’s ass, only the tip of the whip hitting him, leaving small, sharp marks behind. Bethany moved her target, this time striking the man’s thigh, the whip coiling around it and then pulling free with a sharp hiss. The man groaned as she worked her way down his leg, leaving circles of red in her wake. She repeated the pattern with the other leg. He rose up on his tippy toes as if on cue, and Bethany quickly, in succession, snapped the tip of the whip against the soles of his feet. The man groaned aloud, and the crowd breathed in.
She pulled the whip in, coiling it in her hand, and approached the man.
“Is she done already?” Katherine whispered.
“She’s only turning him around,” Andrew said. Katherine shifted against him, and she could feel that his erection had subsided. She remembered him saying that he had submissives. She supposed that a dominatrix wasn’t his kink, precisely. Feeling suddenly brave, she arched against him, pressing her ass into him. Andrew breathed in sharply, his fingers clutching on her waist.
“You little vixen,” he hissed, bringing his mouth to her neck, brushing them against her, and then biting her, very softly, sending a short spark of pain over her nerves.
To Katherine’s surprise, it quickly turned into pleasure. Her head dropped back a little, her hips arching against him as she watched Bethany unbuckle the man and he turned.
The crowd gasped, including Katherine. The man was hard as a rock, his impressive erection jutting out towards the audience. “He’s actually enjoying that,” Katherine breathed.
Bethany buckled him into his restraints again, and stepped back to her previous position, uncoiling her whip again. The man’s eyes were calm, his breathing heavy. The whip flung out, struck him on the upper arm, coiling around it before yanking free. She repeated the action with the other arm. He moaned loud and heavy with heated breath.
The next stroke went across his chest. The tip of the whip struck his nipples, one and then the other. He shuddered, his muscles going taut. Katherine breathed in, feeling suddenly aroused by the sight of the man, his body hard, his erection throbbing. He was clearly taking a great amount of pleasure in the beating, and while she still didn’t understand it, it was undeniably turning her on.
Andrew was responding to her lust, pressing into her, his cock hard against her, his breath coming quickly alongside her ear. “I’m going to take you out of here when they’re finished,” he promised, his hand curving around her hip, his fingers pressing into the ridge of her hipbone. A shiver raced up her back as she thought he might reach a little further down between her legs.
“And you’re going to fuck me?” Katherine asked teasingly, shocked at her own forwardness, and simultaneously enjoying it.
“Maybe,” he hissed darkly. “Or perhaps I’ll just tease you, endlessly.”
Her body tightened all over his words, and she could feel herself getting wet. She was aching, her nipples hard as diamonds, rubbing against the inside of her bra. She clenched her thighs tightly together as she tried to wrestler her urges under control.
On stage, Bethany was working her way down the man’s body, her strokes getting harder and closer together as they wove their way down his torso. She took a step back and snapped the whip out in a straight line, so that the tip struck the man in the abdomen, just above his cock. He moaned, his hips jutting out, his erection pulsing visibly. Katherine wondered if he would come, the way the woman had. She fixated on his cock twitching from Bethany’s teasing whips.
Bethany snapped the whip again, this time striking the cut ‘v’ of muscle on either side of his groin. His cock seemed to throb even harder, if that was possible. She repeated the strikes she had done on his legs, hitting perfectly between the marks she’d left before, until his legs were glowing red. She snapped the whip up once again, the first inch or so coiling tightly around his dick, and she tugged, drawing the man forward by his erection until he was tight against his bonds, his head thrown back, moaning, obviously aching for release.
Then she let the whip uncoil, drew it back up into her hand, and turned to face the crowd, giving a slight bow before turning to stalk offstage. The man was left, hard and tethered, with no release. The crowd clapped anyway, cheering loudly.
“Why didn’t she let him finish?” Katherine asked.
Andrew shrugged. “It’s up to the master to decide if the slave gets to have an orgasm or not. Evidently she decided not to. It’s better for the show, too. Everyone loves a hard cock, the aftermath isn’t really that exciting, and it’s messy. Better to leave that visual.” He gestured to the man onstage, his body reddened and sweating, his erection bobbing in front of him as the slave girls unbuckled his restraints and led him offstage. Several women close to the stage reached out, trying to touch him as he was ushered back through the heavy door.
Katherine was turning back to Andrew, about to ask if he was ready to go, when one of the slave girls in the leather straps approached her. “Miss?”
Katherine blinked at her. “Um, yes?”
“Mistress Venus has asked if you would like to join her backstage. You may bring your friend.” The girl looked up at Andrew with obvious admiration.
Katherine glanced at Andrew, who looked suddenly very intrigued. Before she had a chance to answer, Andrew grasped her hand and nodded. “We would be pleased to accept Mistress Venus’ invitation,” he said firmly.
Katherine, still dizzy with whisky and lust, shrugged her shoulders. May as well. The night can’t possibly get any stranger, can it?
***
They followed the girl through the heavy wooden door, down another steep set of stone stairs. It led into a basement with a thickly carpeted floor, which Katherine instantly felt her heels sink down into, causing her to lean into Andrew. There were plush couches scattered around the giant room, along with some of the equipment she’d seen on stage—an iron lattice with whips, belts and canes attached to it, a padded bench, and a smaller version of the wooden cross. There was a door to the left, and Katherine wondered where it led to.
The room was lit by candles and a crackling fireplace. As her eyes adjusted she took in the view. The man who was master of the girl in the gold chain was reclining on the couch, his shirt fully unbuttoned, revealing a hard, muscled chest. His leather pants were undone, his cock out, hard and thick. The girl was kneeling between his legs, still wearing nothing but her chain and collar, watching as he ran his hand up and down his shaft. Bethany was lounging on a nearby couch, watching idly. Her slave was kneeling on the floor next to her, his erection having subsided to half-mast.
Andrew came up behind Katherine. “If you will let me,” he murmured, “I can show you what that woman up on the stage felt. I can show you pleasure you’ve never imagined.” His voice was low and husky in her ear, with a note of pleading. She could tell he wanted her badly.
“I don’t know if I would like that…the cane, I mean,” Katherine whispered, still watching the man and the girl.
“I wouldn’t use a cane on you. Not your first time. Something…easier. Will you trust me?”
Katherine looked around the room. Bethany had gotten up off of the couch, and was walking towards her.
“Kat, I’m glad you made it. Who is your friend?”
“Bethany, this is Andrew Blake.”
Bethany’s eyes widened, but she only put out her hand, shaking his. “It’s very
nice to meet you, Andrew.”
“It’s good to meet you, Mistress Venus.” There was a note of teasing in his voice.
“Call me Bethany,” she laughed, the smile on her face strangely at odds with her outfit and makeup. “Did you enjoy the show?”
“Indeed,” he replied. “It was definitely one of the best I’ve seen.”
“And you, Kat?”
Katherine smiled weakly. “It was…different.” She smiled again, this time more firmly. “I did enjoy it,” she admitted.
“Good.” Bethany gestured around the room. “We come down here after the show to…enjoy ourselves. I saw you and Andrew from the stage.” She smiled wickedly. “I thought you might…have fun.”
Katherine blinked, suddenly realizing fully what was going on. “Is there going to be some kind of orgy?”
Bethany laughed. “Well, Master Thomas is certainly enjoying his slave. And I will probably ask mine to entertain me shortly. You and Andrew are also welcome to them if you like, or you can keep to each other if you prefer.” She grabbed Katherine’s hand reassuringly. “You can relax here, Kat. No one is watching you or judging you, and no one will ever say anything about what happens in here.” She smiled. “I think if what I have heard is any indication, Andrew will take good care of you.”
