A Talent for Surrender

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A Talent for Surrender Page 10

by Madeline Bastinado


  He closed his eyes and imagined himself on his knees, naked in front of Sadie. He pictured her cold cruel eyes on him and the hint of a sneer on her beautiful lips. Perhaps she would extend her booted foot towards him, inviting him wordlessly to kiss and lick the gleaming leather.

  He knew that he would eagerly comply, lavishing the leather with his wet tongue as hungrily and willingly as any one of her clients – even though he’d never so much as contemplated such a thing before today.

  It made no sense, but he didn’t care. It felt good. Her vicious heels, her imperious voice and her absolute expectation of obedience all somehow combined into a single image of perfect womanhood for Dan.

  He wanked his cock frantically. He allowed himself to imagine what Sadie might look like beneath her rubber and leather. The cat suit had left nothing to the imagination. He knew she was slender but shapely and that her breasts were small and pointed. Her prominent nipples had been clearly obvious and he wondered if she liked them to be sucked and bitten like Sarah did. Or maybe she preferred them to be teased and coaxed with the tip of a finger.

  Dan imagined kneeling at her feet and slowly peeling down her cat suit. He pictured himself pulling the clinging fabric down over her hips and thighs, revealing the flat plane of her belly and, a moment later, the dark V of her crotch, with its neat trimmed triangle of hair.

  His cock was rigid. Shivers travelled up and down his spine. He imagined Sadie’s beautiful disapproving face looking down at him as he handled his cock. Would she sneer and look away or would he see interest, even arousal shining in her eyes? He pictured her parted lips, puffy and berry-dark as she watched him wank and her heaving chest, betraying her arousal.

  His thighs were trembling. The air was filled with the sound of his urgent breathing and the rhythmic slapping of his hand. He screwed his eyes up tightly, focusing his attention inwards and imagined her hand sliding down the zip of her cat suit and dipping under the leather to finger the hot groove between her legs.

  His heart was pounding. His crotch ached. He thrust his hips forwards and brought his hand down hard. He grunted and gasped. His cock throbbed in his hand. He arched his back. Relief and satisfaction flooded through him. Spunk splashed against the toilet door.

  When he’d got his breath back he used toilet paper to clean himself then carefully wiped the evidence off the door. He put his cock away, let himself out of the toilet cubicle and washed his hands. He walked back down the corridor on unsteady legs and let himself into the dungeon.

  As he closed the door behind him he was greeted by the sound of Dave and Dennis giving him a slow handclap. He looked from one to the other, mystified.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Sorry, Dan, but you’ve still got your radio mike on.’ Dennis tapped the mixer. ‘We heard everything.’

  Seven

  Dan joined in the laughter. He should have remembered about the mike but his urgent need to relieve his excitement had been the only thing on his mind. He told the crew to pack up and head home in the van.

  He climbed the stairs and found Sadie sitting at the kitchen table. She’d taken off her mummy dress and was wearing a clinging long-sleeved black T-shirt and a long purple velvet skirt over a pair of black ankle boots. The dark outfit emphasised her slenderness and, Dan thought, gave her the look of a healthy vampire.

  ‘Sit down and I’ll pour you some coffee. How do you take it?’

  ‘Black, no sugar. Thanks.’ He sat down.

  Sadie poured coffee into a mug from a gleaming chrome cafetière. She pushed a plate of chocolate brownies across the table.

  ‘Chocolate is my major weakness. I simply can’t resist it.’ She selected an enormous slice of brownie and bit into it with a sigh.

  ‘You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who limits her indulgences.’ Dan sipped his coffee.

  ‘Appearances can be deceptive. I’m quite a health fiend, actually. I work out every day and I’ve been a vegan for years.’

  ‘Well, I am surprised.’ Dan nibbled at his brownie. ‘What you do is so . . . I don’t know . . . excessive. I’d have pegged you for a sybarite.’

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Maybe I am. Can’t a sybarite care about her health? And you shouldn’t make the mistake of believing that the way I am with my clients is the real me. It’s just an act . . . you, of all people, ought to understand that.’

  ‘I do, of course. You’re putting on a sort of performance for the clients. The real you is much more warm and human.’

  Sadie laughed. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure. I’m pretty dominating in real life too. The only difference is that it’s real, not a mask or a stereotype. But tell me, Dan . . . what did you think of today? I know it turned you on – I happened to be in the dungeon when Dennis realised what you were up to so he turned up the volume and we all listened.’

  Dan felt his face colour. ‘You heard that?’

  ‘Don’t worry about it . . . If it hadn’t aroused you I’d think you were a eunuch.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s all very unsettling. I’d never have dreamed that kind of stuff would affect me.’

  ‘Wait until you try it for yourself.’

  ‘Yes . . . To be honest I found it all fascinating. Some of those fetishes are truly bizarre and yet, because of you, I could see their power and appeal. Not that I think I’d want to try them for myself. Not all of them anyway.’

  ‘But some you might?’ Sadie sipped her coffee. Her dark eyes never left his face.

  ‘Maybe. I guess I’ll just have to put myself in your capable hands.’

  ‘You can trust me. I promise.’

  ‘I know that but I appreciate the reassurance.’

  ‘Tell me, Dan . . .’ She offered him another brownie. ‘What particularly turned you on today? There must have been moments that really pushed your buttons?’

  ‘Of course. I was close to erection several times.’ He met her gaze.

  ‘Care to tell me when?’

  He shook his head. ‘After a couple of glasses of wine, maybe . . . Tell me, the things you do to your clients, do they really turn you on?’

  ‘Some of them turn me on more than others but fulfilling a client’s fantasy – even if it doesn’t happen to be one of my own – is always exciting.’

  ‘So do you ever take the obvious next step?’ He drained his cup.

  ‘You mean do I ever fuck my clients? No. I’m not a prostitute. But, occasionally, a private relationship develops with a client that might lead to sex. Want a refill?’ She pointed at his empty cup.

  ‘Please. Like the slave, for example? Was he a client at one time?’

  Sadie nodded. ‘That’s right. He doesn’t pay me any more and he has certain privileges in return for helping me out during scenes.’

  ‘And do those privileges include sex?’

  Sadie raised an immaculate eyebrow. ‘You want to know all my secrets yet you refuse to reciprocate. Don’t you think that’s a little ungentlemanly?’

  ‘Meaning you want me to spill the beans about what turned me on?’

  She nodded. ‘I will if you will.’

  Dan looked at her. Her hands were curled around her cup, her long red nails tapping the porcelain. She seemed down to earth and open and, somehow, reassuring.

  Dan began to speak. He used every ounce of his will to meet her gaze. ‘There were two things that really turned me on, but don’t ask me why. The first was when your slave came in the tranny’s face and then rubbed it in and the second was when you breastfed the adult baby.’

  ‘I see. That’s interesting. And do you think you can explain why?’

  He took a long swallow of his coffee. ‘Well, I think it must have been the degradation of the first one. It ruined her – or his – make-up. It was an act of defilement yet the fact that he so obviously desired it was a huge turn-on.’

  ‘I think I can understand that. Don’t you like it when a girlfriend lets you come on her face?’

  ‘Of course. Because it makes
me feel completely accepted and also it tells me that she’s absolutely filthy and uninhibited and wants my spunk on her.’

  ‘There you go then, not so strange.’

  ‘Maybe . . . but the breastfeeding I can’t explain so easily. Though, I suppose, it looked intimate and tender and I could see the absolute submission and regression of the baby.’

  ‘Well, when you think about it, breastfeeding is the most intimate thing you ever do for anyone, perhaps more intimate than sex. It’s a very powerful primal relationship of mutual need. You seemed quite disappointed when I told you I wasn’t really feeding him.’

  ‘Do you think that means I’ve got an Oedipus complex?’

  She laughed. ‘I’ve obviously given you a lot to think about, Dan.’

  There was a knock at the door and they both turned to see the slave enter the kitchen.

  ‘I’ve put away all the toys and cleaned the dungeon, mistress.’

  ‘Thank you, slave. Now, if you don’t mind, please remind me how many times you let me down today.’

  The slave stood in the doorway, his hands clasped in front of his crotch and his head cast down. ‘Three times, mistress.’ He didn’t look up.

  Sadie shook her head. ‘Do you imagine I can’t count? We both know it was two. And now I’m even more angry with you so I’m going to give you the ultimate punishment.’ She turned back to the table and began to sip her coffee.

  The slave began to shake his head as if in fear. ‘Please, mistress. Anything but that.’

  ‘You know the arrangement.’ Sadie didn’t even bother to look at him. ‘I demand honesty at all times. If you attempt to elicit an extra punishment by inflating your number of offences just because you enjoy being whipped I have made it clear that I will punish you very severely. Wouldn’t I be a fool, under the circumstances, to give you a punishment you’d enjoy?’ She waved the back of her hand at him, as if in dismissal. ‘Those are the rules. You live by them or you leave.’

  ‘I’m sorry, mistress.’ He looked at his feet.

  ‘Now go home. And make sure you’re not late in the morning.’

  Dan watched as the slave turned and left the room.

  ‘Did you forget to punish him? And what was he was so terrified of?’

  Sadie laughed. ‘I punished him, all right. Not getting punished is what he most fears. That causes him far more pain than any beating I could give him.’

  Dan was in the back of a taxi on the way home when he realised that Sadie had never actually got round to telling him if she had sex with the slave. He began to laugh.

  A week later Dan and the crew turned up at Sadie’s dungeon to film his own session. Sadie answered the door wearing a simple black dress and no make-up.

  As he followed her along the hall and down the stairs Dan felt a curious mixture of trepidation and excitement. She led him down to the changing room in the basement.

  ‘I’ve laid out an outfit for you to wear. If you put it on, Slave will come and fetch you when we’re ready for you.’

  ‘I’ll need my radio mike.’

  She nodded. ‘I’ll let Dennis know. How are you feeling?’ Sadie sat down on the bench.

  ‘OK I think. Excited mostly.’ He sat down beside her.

  ‘That’s good. I just wanted to remind you that I said I’ll look after you and I mean it.’

  ‘Thanks. I know I can trust you.’

  ‘All right then. I’ll go up and get changed now and I’ll see you later in the dungeon.’ Sadie left the room.

  Dan looked down at the items Sadie had left out for him to wear. On top of the pile was a studded black leather collar. He picked it up and fitted it to his own neck. It felt tight and heavy, circling his throat like the span of a lover’s fingers. He felt his heart quicken.

  The next item on the pile was a body harness. If he hadn’t seen one being worn on his previous visit to the dungeon he wouldn’t have had a clue what it was or how to put it on. As it was, he had to spend several minutes holding it up and turning it around and around until he finally worked out where each of the straps was meant to go. As he unbuttoned his shirt he realised that his hands were trembling.

  When he was naked he picked up the harness and began to put it on. All of the leather bands converged at a big silver ring which sat in the centre of his chest and a similar arrangement at the back which rested between his shoulder blades. There were two straps that passed over each shoulder and connected to the ring at the front with press-stud fastenings and a strap that circled his chest.

  Hanging downwards from the central ring at the back was a single long strap which was supposed to pass between his legs and up the front to connect to the chest ring. He bent forwards and reached between his legs, catching hold of the last strap.

  As he pulled it forwards he realised that there was another ring, roughly level with his crotch. Dan stared at the silver ring. He could see that it was supposed to encircle his genitals, but he hadn’t got the first clue how to get them through it. Then he remembered a film he’d made about a gay stripper who’d told him that the correct way to put on a cock ring was to slide your balls through first and then your dick. He’d seen the man execute the manoeuvre and it had looked simple enough, if a little eye-watering.

  He held the back of the ring carefully against his perineum and pushed first one and then the other ball through it. He gasped as the icy metal made contact with his skin. So far, so good. There didn’t seem much room left for his penis but he could see how it was supposed to work. He pulled down on his scrotum with one hand, anchoring everything inside the ring and maximising the space available to thread his cock through. He managed to lift the tip over the top of the ring and he tugged gently on his foreskin, pulling his cock fully through the ring.

  Dan pulled up the last strap and fastened it to the chest ring. The leather harness creaked as he moved. The crotch straps pulled slightly on the cock ring making him acutely aware of his genitals. Maybe it was the air conditioning, but Dan felt goose pimples rising and his nipples growing erect.

  He looked down at the last item on the bench. It was a studded leather jockstrap with a rigid codpiece like a cricket box. He put it on, passing the rear strap up between his buttocks before fastening the belt around his hips. He was looking around the changing room for a full-length mirror when the door opened and Dennis came in. When he saw Dan he did a double take.

  ‘I’ve got to hand it to you, Dan, I couldn’t do what you do for a million quid. I’ve come to fit your radio mike.’ He held it up.

  ‘I must admit, I think this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done. And it’s all in the name of art.’

  ‘Art?’ Dennis laughed. ‘Well, you’re certainly making an exhibition of yourself. But at least it’s all done in the best possible taste. Turn round and I’ll hook this onto your . . . belt or whatever you call it.’

  After Dennis left, Dan sat down on the bench waiting to be summoned by the slave. Without his own clothes he felt vulnerable and unprotected. He hadn’t realised how much of his on-screen confidence came from the wardrobe.

  The cock ring pressed against his body as he sat. He could feel the tip of his cock brushing the interior of the leather codpiece.

  The door opened and the slave stood in the doorway. He was dressed in red leather shorts and a matching harness. He pulled something out of his pocket and Dan instantly realised that it was a dog lead. His stomach flipped like a fish at the end of a hook.

  The slave clipped the lead to a D-ring on Dan’s collar and tugged on it sharply, indicating that he should get to his feet, then began to pull the lead downwards, making the collar dig into the back of Dan’s neck. Alarmed, Dan looked into his face. The slaved flicked his eyes downwards to the floor and Dan understood that he was to get onto his knees.

  He got down on all fours and the slave turned and began to walk away. Dan followed, shuffling on his hands and knees like a dog. The flagstones were cold and hard against his knees and he made slow progress. He f
elt apprehensive and humiliated before he’d even reached the dungeon. The slave opened the heavy wooden door and led him into the room at the end of his lead.

  Dan was instantly struck by the brightness of the camera lights in the room after the relative gloom of the corridor. Using his peripheral vision he was able to see Dave and Dennis standing by the curtains, the camera already rolling. Mercifully he was spared the embarrassment of seeing the expressions on their faces.

  He followed behind the slave as he led the way over to Sadie’s chair. By the time they’d reached it he was breathless and sweaty and his knees were killing him. He could feel his face burning and his crotch ached.

  The slave handed the loop of the lead to Sadie. As she took it Dan could see that she had long leather sleeves which dipped over the back of each hand in a V and fastened to her middle finger with a loop. He took in her long scarlet fingernails and the smooth white skin of her hands. He daren’t look up to see the rest of her outfit but he could see high-heeled black boots which laced up the front. Dan’s heart was thumping.

  Sadie extended one leg, lifted her foot and placed it directly under Dan’s nose. ‘Kiss my foot.’ Sadie’s voice was clear and imperious. Dan leaned forwards and pressed his lips to the top of her boot. He could smell the leather and a hint of something grittier and unpleasant. She pushed him away with her foot, forcing him back on his heels.

  It wasn’t a violent movement, yet the force behind it took his breath away and shocked him to his core. ‘The sole . . . a worthless trainee slave like you is only worthy to kiss the sole of my boot.’

  He leaned forwards and rubbed his lips against the dirty leather, kissing it as tenderly and eagerly as he might a pair of cherished lips. The leather felt rough and dirty against his skin. He could feel his cheeks burning.

  Sadie withdrew her foot. She stood up and tugged on Dan’s lead, forcing him to look up at her. As her outfit came into view he inhaled sharply and his cock tingled inside the codpiece. The boots reached her thighs, clinging to her shapely legs and making them seem impossibly long. She was wearing a long black leather skirt which hung to her ankles and was split at the front to the waist. A froth of black lace was visible at her crotch. Above the waist she was wearing a kind of corseted bodice which thrust her breasts upwards and outwards. Over it all was a floor-length cloak with a high collar which stood up dramatically behind her head.

 

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