by Natalie Dae
His dick appeared harder and longer than usual, probably owing to the ring being tight.
“Hmm, you’re quite a size tonight. Excited, are we?”
He mumbled a response.
“I’m looking forward to you filling me with that. There seems to be an extra half inch in length and girth.” God, I can’t wait…
To take my mind off thoughts of him plunging inside my cunt, I took the other end of the lace and looped it around the head of his cock, tying it loosely with room to spare in case he got any harder.
“You realize what I’ve chosen to do now, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“And are you pleased with the act I’ve picked?”
“Yes. God, yes, Mistress.”
“Do you have anything you’d like to say to me?”
He remained silent.
“As you know,” I went on, “I can’t do this and have you facing me. Therefore, I can’t see your eyes. Can’t see if you’re asking me for something or telling me what to do next. Would you like a mirror in front of you?”
“Please, Mistress.”
“Very well.” I stood, gave his arse a swift, glancing flick with my fingertips, then went over to a cupboard built into a corner while he breathed heavily through his teeth.
Inside the cupboard were a range of mirrors, all different sizes, all with men’s tie-shaped, thick cardboard stands that could be pulled out of the back, much like photo frames. I chose one big enough that I could see his face clearly and went about setting it up at the foot of the bed. The bottom of the frame wedged itself into the space where two floor tiles met. I stood back to check the view.
“Are you happy with that?” I studied his reflection.
His cheeks were red—the flick would have done that—and a lock of his hair swayed between his eyes. He nodded and gave me one of his piercing glares.
“Ah, so you’re impatient for me to begin,” I said. “As you wish.”
I knelt and inspected his cock again. It was flush with his lower belly, pointing toward the mirror. The lace had a nice bit of give in it. I curled my finger around the lowest part of the hanging arc and have it a little jerk. Dan jerked with it, his cock drawn down a tad, away from his body. I looked in the mirror. Dan’s expression told me to go to more extreme measures.
I tugged again, encouraging his dick down, down, down, then used my other hand to take hold of the piece of lace closest to his cock head. I pulled so that his length bent down then backwards, the head pointing at me, his balls squashed between the pressure from his cock and the mini balloon.
“How is that?” I asked, holding steady. My cunt creamed. Ached.
“Different, Mistress.”
“How so?”
“It feels odd. A hard dick isn’t meant for this position. So it’s uncomfortable yet… Yet it’s good. Strange good.”
“Strange good. I can imagine what you mean. Are you ready for more? Exactly how we discussed it?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“And remember, the second it becomes intolerable, you must say so.”
I’d heard of cocks being damaged by someone doing this, so I was reticent to go at it like Dan expected, like we’d discussed. If he wanted pain, fine, but proper, excruciating, this-isn’t-how-it’s-meant-to-be pain—no, I wasn’t prepared to obey him on that.
I pulled with gentle force, watching carefully as his cock lifted, the hole in the end almost pointing to the ceiling. His dick was at what I would have thought was an impossible angle, yet it had been manipulated beautifully and he seemed to be coping well.
He groaned. I stared into the mirror. Dan had bared his teeth, clamped them together, and pushed out a breath. He dared me to go further. I checked what his cock was like. Very purple, very swollen. I shook my head and released the lace. His dick sprang toward his belly, slapping it.
“Take a moment,” I said, rising to walk over to the drawers again.
I resisted cupping my cunt and bringing myself off against my palm.
Dan moaned, uttering words I didn’t understand or just couldn’t decipher. I took out a package of cooling wipes then returned to kneel behind him. Taking a wad of cold, wet tissues out, I pressed them to his heated cock. Dan sighed and shuddered.
“Good?” I drew the tissues down to cover his balls.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Are you ready for me to yank again?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
His reflection seemed to dare me to disobey. I wasn’t about to, but I gave him a look of my own—one that said he might well call the shots but in this instance I would walk away from the scene if I felt he was going too far.
Discarding the tissues on the floor, I took hold of the lace and repeated what I’d done before. His cock bulged, the head impossibly wide and fat, and pre-cum squeezed out of the hole. I bent my head to lick it away. Dan shoved back, so I sucked as much of his cock in as I could—lace and all. He moved frantically, rocking back and forth on his hands and knees. His cock slid in and out—I’d let him do the guiding—and the lace grated against my tongue. My nose got buried in his soft balls each time he thrust inside, the scent of them musky and such a turn on that my cunt leaked.
“Mistress?”
I sucked hard as my response.
“Ah, Mistress, this is too fucking good. It hurts but…but it’s good. It’s… Christ…”
Every time he surged into my mouth, the lace, trapped between his cock and my lip, must have dragged over the skin beneath the head of his cock. I reached out to take the other end of the lace, as close to his root as I could, and started up a series of small yanks. Dan cried out, rammed back particularly forcefully, then withdrew completely.
“Here, Mistress,” he gasped out. “Come here.”
I stared at his face in the mirror. “Turn over. Onto your back. Now!”
He did so, and I lost no time in straddling him, sinking his dick into my pulsing cunt until it was so fully seated it hurt. I rode him, taking hold of the lace and tugging again and again, knowing it must be chafing his tender skin yet giving him pleasure at the same time.
“Oh, fuck!” he whispered, staring up at me. “Go on. Fuck me harder. Pull that lace harder.”
I obeyed, lost in the moment. The little balloon pressed into my arse crack, acting like a broad, caressing thumb over my pucker. He raised his hands to free my breasts from the corset, lifting them out then pinching my nipples so hard I lost my breath. He twisted and tweaked them in time with my tugs on the lace. The intensity of his attentions, the way he was so savage, urged pleasure to the fore. I was almost there, my cunt spasming around him, my clit on fire and swelling by the second. I rose then slammed back onto him, time and time again, loving the barbaric stretch, the probing pain, the indecent way he twisted and mauled my tits.
I came, a barrage of intensity that swept through me so quickly and violently I bucked. Dan followed, the heat of his cum soaking my cunt, the throbs of his pulsing dick fluttering inside me. I gasped for air, head going dizzy, and let the lace go so I could lean down and take his mouth in a bruising kiss as I slowed the ride.
When I came to a stop, I eased back up, bracing myself with my hands on his chest. He let go of my abused nipples, which ached and stood proud after such a beautiful assault.
“Dear God, you were right,” I said. “So right to try this.”
He took a few seconds to control his breathing. “Intense but nevertheless completely fucking enjoyable. Christ, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“A heartbeat may come sooner than you think.”
I climbed off him and reached for the tissues. Taking some out, I cleaned him up, mindful that his cock was red around the base of the head. He’d deflated enough that I could slip the lace and ring off, and I continued cleaning, careful not to wipe too many times over his sensitive skin.
“And that,” he said, “is what we’re all about. Trying new things. Trusting one another to kno
w the boundaries. It’s why I love you, Mistress.”
“And why I love you.” I paused. “Master.”
Chapter Four
In the voyeur room, with its cream wallpaper decorated with gold fleur-de-lis, everyone was either engaged in a scene or enraptured by one. The space was packed, more so than usual for a Friday night, and I soon remembered why. Mr M was due to perform his monthly show with his lady love, Shareena. She was a sultry-looking woman of Asian descent, who possessed the best pair of tits I’d ever seen. Her Master could span her miniscule waist with both his hands so his finger and thumb tips touched.
Shareena stood on one of the small stages, her attention held by a couple, Master and sub, who performed fellatio on another Master while his sub whipped his backside. The ones sucking cock fought for licks and sucks before taking it in turns to stuff their mouths with a thick dick so engorged I imagined their lips would be painfully stretched.
“Ah,” Dan said on his hands and knees beside me. “The monthly extravaganza will begin soon.”
“Do you have the ring and lace?” I asked, stroking his hair.
He leaned into my leg, curling one hand around my ankle. He raised his body so he was just on his knees and could observe better. “Yes, Mistress. Down my boxers.”
“Stand?” I asked, wondering if he had a decent enough view down there.
“No, thank you, Mistress.”
I glanced down and smiled at him. He stared up at me with such adoration in his eyes I found it difficult not to cry. It said so many things that look of his—that he’d rather be staring at me than watching the show, that being beside me was better than being closer to the stage. I felt the same about him. Although the goings on around us were stimulating and a delightful way to ramp up the libido, they by no means were the reason we came here.
“If you’re sure.” I patted his head for effect in case anyone watched us.
Dan looked away and back to the action. “Do you ever wonder where Mr M met her?”
“There have been rumors. Internet bride. Bought and paid for. A marriage based on sex. But I’ve learnt not to listen to rumors. I can imagine what’s said about us. If those about us are to be believed, I treat you like nothing but an accessory, using your submissiveness to make me feel bigger.”
“I could stand up and tell them all, you know. Book a few minutes on the stage sometime in the future and explain us. It’s happened here before. People have felt the need to share. They get pretty good turnouts too. Held on a Sunday night, I believe. Apt. Confessions.”
“No need,” I said. “Really.”
We lapsed into silence. I left Dan to his perusal of the blow job-whipping and turned my attention to the room. There were so many people here that most were a blur of heads and shoulders or partial glimpses of faces. Except for her. The curious woman I’d allowed to affect my well-being. And I had allowed it, no one else.
She was staring at me again, standing on the far side of the room, elevated by being on one of the far stages. I stroked Dan’s head, more for comfort than anything else, and smiled at her to see what her reaction would be. She smiled back, nodded slightly, and gave me a look that said a few things. That she understood.
Her Master must have told her, or if he hadn’t, she’d possibly asked someone else or worked it out for herself. My smile grew wider, and I felt frustratingly pleased that she had accepted us for who we were. It shouldn’t have mattered what she thought, yet it clearly had.
I turned away, my focus back on the scene I’d originally been watching. “She’s here, Dan. That woman’s here. And she smiled at me.”
“There you go then. She doesn’t think we’re weird after all.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Will you stop worrying now?”
“I expect so.”
I was cross that other people’s opinions still mattered. No amount of me telling myself that they didn’t was going to wash. I’d wanted so much to fit in somewhere, and here I thought I had—until she’d eyed me funny and given me cause to think things I’d thought were long dealt with. It was difficult to explain to someone that you were a sub yet a Domme, and that the same went for your Master. Labeling ourselves as a Switch wasn’t quite correct either. It didn’t feel right. Whatever we were, we were us.
Shareena wafted off the stage and disappeared into the crowd then from the room. People followed her exit by turning their heads, and the low rumble of conversation voiced fears that she wouldn’t be coming back, that Mr M wouldn’t be performing with her after all.
I didn’t care one way or another if he did, yet I had never seen him on stage and admitted I was curious as to what watching him would be like. Whenever I’d been here he’d always remained at the door, greeting or saying goodbye. I hadn’t imagined him doing anything else until a couple of weeks ago when Dan had told me the man put on a show and actually had a woman in his life.
Why had I assumed Mr M had no one? For some reason I’d thought he’d got his kinky kicks by being happy that other people were getting off at his mansion.
“Do you know why Mr M opened this place?” I asked Dan.
“Rumor is he inherited it, realized there was a niche in the market so went into business. Does it matter?”
“No. Idle minds wander and all that.”
“Are you enjoying having an idle mind or do you want something to bridge the boredom gap until the real show begins?”
“Bridge the gap, please.”
“Lead me to the stage, the one with the couple sucking cock. You know what I want. Do it.” He pulled the ring and lace from his boxers and held it in a fist.
I ordered Dan in a shrill voice to get on stage, face the crowd and lean against the wall then, “Quick smart, voyeurs, does anyone have a pair of scissors?”
A small pair—probably from a handbag nail kit—were thrust into my outstretched palm. I stood to Dan’s side while I made a big play about cutting off his PVCs. Watchers appeared torn between observing the impending climax of the cock suckers or switching to see what we were about to get up to. I pulled the boxers away then dropped them, ruined, to the floor.
“You see that?” I said, pointing to Dan’s groin. “Earlier he had laces tied to his cock and I bent his dick backwards—so far backwards that it might have snapped!”
I waved my hand dramatically as the crowd oohed and ahhed. Some stared at me in wonder, others in fear. I must have appeared a commanding, impressive sight but felt far from it. This was a test for me, behaving so overly dominant in public. “Who wants to play Yank his Cock, mmm? Anyone?”
A Master tapped the top of his blonde female sub’s head. She stepped onto the stage, made brief eye contact with me, then lowered her gaze.
“Give me the ring and lace, sub,” I snapped at Dan.
He reached out with one hand. I took what he offered. Turning to the female sub, I slid my finger beneath her chin, doing what Dan would if he were playing Master, and lifted her head.
I glared into her eyes. “Get down there and put the ring onto his dick, girl,” I said, floating into this role so easily. “You’ll see it’s like magic, that ring, and that cock of his will spring up in an instant.”
She knelt and fumbled around with Dan’s cock.
“That’s right,” I said, running my fingertips up her back as encouragement. “That’s right, girl. Now tie the end of the lace loosely around his fat tip. You see that? See how he’s grown?”
“Yes, Mistress,” she said.
“I bet you’d like that stuffed into your cunt,” I said.
“Yes, Mistress, if my Master wanted that.”
I’d said it for effect—no way was my Master on offer to anyone, not in that way. I avoided catching her Master’s eye in case he nodded his agreement that Dan could fuck her.
“And you there.” I pointed at the crowd, arcing my hand to encompass them all. “Can you see what’s going on? If you can’t, I suggest you kneel and lean forward.”
; The majority of the crowd obeyed, leaving me astounded that our show was more anticipated than the one going on beside us. It was different, that’s what it was.
“Let’s see if she’s done it right, shall we?” I said, turning to check whether the blonde had done as I’d instructed. “Oh, yes. Very nice. This gives you a little bit of practice in case your Master wants you to do the same to him. Look at the size of him.” I took some of her hair in my fist and drew her head level with his pelvis. “Take hold of the lace nearest to the end of his cock and pull it downwards.”
She began doing as I’d ordered, her hand trembling.
“And you,” I said to Dan, “take your arse off that wall so this lovely subbie here can bend your dick as far back as she can. The wonderful people here want to see how it’s done. Don’t you?” I roared at the gathering.
Cheers of assent filled the room. My stomach fluttered, and I glanced at the woman who had been the cause of my unrest. She was smiling secretively, and I nodded at her, one curt dip of the head, silently thanking her for seeming to want to keep mine and Dan’s secret.
I swiveled to look at Dan. He eyed me hard.
“More?” I said, then to the blonde sub, “Bend it some more. Harder. Yes, just like that. Pull it lower. Lower!”
Dan’s dick was so far back it could have been resting against his arse crack, his balls flattened.
“How is that for you?” I asked Dan.
“Lovely, Mistress.”
“And what do you say to Blondie here?” I asked, voice firm.
“Thank you, sub.”
“Very good.” I stood to Dan’s side. “Now, I want you to turn around. Both of you. So my sub’s arse is facing the beautiful watchers.”
They shuffled until they’d reached the desired position.
“Hold him steady there,” I said to the woman. “And you, the adoring crowd, may want to move back a little.”
They shifted as one, a mass of kneeling people. The man having his cock sucked beside us was also watching, as was his whipper. The only people too engrossed to care were the two attending to his hard-on.
