Tygers 4: Sweet Awakening

by Melinda Barron

  Harper swallowed panic as Walker opened the door and led her inside. The room was well lit, and candles burned throughout. There was one Dom working with a sub, but other than them, the room was empty, save for the monitor. She approached them with a smile.

  “Shall I, or would you like to?”

  “I would,” Walker said. “We’d like her restrained flat on her back, and we’d like to paint with two different colors, red and blue.”

  The Domme snapped her fingers and a sub appeared from another room. “Restrain her on table two. Then set up what her Masters require.”

  The sub nodded, and when Harper was tied down, he moved a table next to her. On it sat a large pot on a double boiler. Various brushes sat on the table. A second table appeared on her other side with the same equipment. The sub dropped small pieces of colored wax into the already melted wax and stirred it. Red on one side, blue on the other. Then he used a thermometer to test the temperature.

  “One twenty-two, Mistress,” he said.

  “Very good. Masters. I can tell you know what you’re doing so I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Harper closed her eyes as each of her Doms picked up a brush.

  “The warmth will feel good, Slick,” Walker said. “We’re going to use your body as a canvas. Don’t wiggle too much, or you might ruin our art work.”

  They started on her nipples, painting the hot wax over each one.

  Harper hissed in pain as the heat ran through her. But it quickly cooled and the warm wax felt sexy against her skin. They painted identical lines down her stomach and toward her pussy, stopping just above it and moving back up. At times they crossed the brushes, mixing the colors.

  She closed her eyes and let the feelings rush over her. She’d expected it to burn more than it did, and although it was uncomfortable at first, it quickly cooled and left a pleasant tingly feeling on her body.

  They moved the brushes around a lot, and she tried to keep track of what they’d done, but it was hard. One thing she did know was that they’d left her breasts mostly bare. She wondered why, but didn’t ask. Talking would ruin it, ruin the ambience of the scene.

  When she felt like every surface of her upper body was covered in wax, she sighed. Then watched as her Masters picked up larger brushes.

  “This may hurt more, Slick.” Walker dipped his brush into the wax. “But it will leave pretty little marks on you that show you as ours.”

  He touched the brush to her breast, and she hissed and cried out. She felt the brush move quickly over her breast and knew he was painting a ‘W’ on it. When he was done, Oscar followed his lead and painted an ‘O’ on her other breast.

  When they were done, they stepped back to study their work. Her body felt heavy from the wax, but she also felt very relaxed.

  “When will it come off?”

  “As you move,” Walker said. “Or we’ll peel it off. For now, we’ll leave it for everyone to see.”

  “You look so beautiful,” Oscar said. “Marked as ours.”

  They stepped back so the Domme could take pictures. She went to a computer and printed them out, giving a set to her Doms and putting another set on her wall. After Harper was unshackled, her men helped her to stand.

  She wondered if Helena’s photos were on the wall, but the Domme shook her head, saying she didn’t recognize the name. Knowing that subs were renamed, Harper and her Doms searched the photos but didn’t find any of Helena.

  Before they left, Harper lay back on the table and her Doms peeled the wax from her body, carefully lifting their letters from her breasts. The Domme placed the initials in wax paper, then secured them in a box and handed the box to the men.

  “What are we going to do with them?”

  “Put them on the wall at someone’s house,” Walker said. “It’s a great souvenir.”

  Harper knew this was the perfect time to ask about houses and living arrangements, but she didn’t. There would be plenty of time for that later. After they’d found Helena.

  Chapter Sixteen

  At breakfast the next morning, Harper was shocked when Oscar repeated the scene from the previous morning. She balked, saying it wasn’t fair because she hadn’t broken any rule. He told her that she would behave, or he would let the Doms/Dommes deliver seven swats per bite of food.

  In response, she’d stomped her foot, and he’d increased it to ten.

  Her behind ached by the time breakfast was over, and her mind had settled on disliking Oscar. When she was back on her knees between them, she sighed.

  “So what’s the plan for the day?”

  “I’m meeting with the Johanssons during the pony races,” Walker said.

  “They race ponies here?”

  “Yes, human ponies.”

  She gave him a confused look, then whispered, “Oh,” as realization set in. “That should be different.”

  “I’ve always wanted to see a pony race,” Oscar said. “This ought to be a great deal of fun.”

  “Well, I’m going to talk to a few more staff members,” Walker said. “You two go and I’ll meet you there.”

  * * * * *

  The warm breeze acted as a cooling agent to Harper’s warmed bottom. She knew people were looking at her, and she also knew that word had spread about Oscar offering her up for public spankings in the breakfast room two mornings in a row.

  When a man came up and asked Oscar if she was going to be dinner entertainment, too, she swallowed a sharp retort. She wanted Oscar to give him one.

  Instead, Oscar told her to bend over, and he let the man give her twenty swats. A crowd gathered and Harper fought to stay obedient. She knew if she didn’t that the punishment would be much worse than what was already happening.

  When her torment was over, Oscar said good-bye to his new friend, and they started to walk through the crowd.

  “I just want to repeat, and I’m sure this will get me in huge trouble, but I hate you.”

  “Good,” Oscar said. “Hate’s a strong emotion. It will keep you on your toes.”

  When he saw Sawyer, they made their way to him. Sawyer was talking to a group of people, and he welcomed them into it.

  “Where’s your friend?” Sawyer’s voice was soft so no one else could hear. “I have some information for him.”

  “Out interviewing suspects,” Oscar said with a laugh. “But you can tell me if you like.”

  “All right. The man I told him about, has he figured out who he is yet?”

  “Yes, he has. Do you have more information for us?”

  Sawyer looked around, then sucked in a deep breath, pulling them off. “You’re not dressed for pony play, Slick.”

  “Dressed for it? You mean the blinders and the halter and bit and everything? I have to be a pony?” She wasn’t sure she was ready for this.

  “No, not today. At least not for you. The pony races are for experienced ponies only. But we do have a booth where you can buy tails for the subs to wear to get into the spirit of things. Why don’t you both come with me and we’ll pick one out.”

  “Sounds terrific,” Oscar said. “Lead the way.”

  They walked to a booth that sold tails, and even a halter set that could be used to lead subs during the races. She balked at the tails, which were long and attached to butt plugs. She wasn’t up for the idea of wearing a plug again, but she knew she didn’t have much choice.

  These plugs were long and slim, with a wide spot around the base. Oscar asked to see two, then chose a blonde one, to match her hair.

  Sawyer took a bottle of lube out of his pocket. “Let’s go over here and get her suited out.” He pointed to an area near a tree that was mostly deserted.

  Once there, Oscar ordered her to put her hands on the tree and bend over. Someone’s fingers spread lube over her anus, and then they started to work the plug inside her. The hair from the tail tickled her thighs, and Harper knew this wasn’t something she was going to particularly enjo
y.

  She didn’t want to wear a tail. She didn’t want to be a pony girl, either. She could hear Sawyer and Oscar talking in soft voices, and she wondered what they were saying. When the plug was fully inserted, Oscar slapped her already aching behind.

  “Stand up.”

  She did as he asked, muttering, “Asshole,” under her breath. She was going to have to get a handle on her feelings about Oscar, or they would continue to get her into trouble.

  She turned around to see Sawyer walking back to the races.

  “What did he say?”

  “We’re leaving in the morning,” he said, frowning.

  “Why? Is he kicking us out?”

  “No, your sister’s going to be in Miami. And this time it sounds like the auction is for real, and she’s not a willing participant.”

  They hurried over to the races, stopping so Oscar could watch.

  “What are you doing? My sister is in danger.”

  “Relax,” Oscar said. “The auction isn’t until tomorrow night, and Sawyer still has to get us an invitation. And you can’t go.”

  “I’m going.” She stomped her foot, and several people turned to stare at her in astonishment.

  “Slick! You will behave, or we’ll visit the punishment room again.”

  “No. Oscar, you don’t understand. Please, we need to go and find Walker.”

  “And you need to learn to behave. Walker is coming to us. If we go looking for him, we’ll miss him. You need to listen to me.”

  “Are you serious? My sister’s life could be in danger!” She threw up her hands in disgust. Her tail tickled her legs, and she was tempted to pull it out and throw it at him.

  Walker walked up at that moment, stepping between them. “I can’t leave you two alone for a minute, can I? What’s going on?”

  Harper opened her mouth to speak, but Oscar put his hand over her mouth. “Not here. Not in front of all these people. Remember, we’re here as guests; we’re not working.”

  In her mind she knew he was right, but in her heart she was scared to death. If the man who Helena had taken up with was planning to sell her to someone, there was no time to waste.

  “We do need to talk, but now’s not the time,” Oscar said. “We’ll watch a race, then go.”

  Walker nodded, then looked at Harper’s backside. “Are you wearing a tail? I like it.”

  “I don’t. Can we talk about ‑‑”

  He was behind her, investigating her tail. She moaned softly as he traced where the tail rested in her behind. He was close enough that no one could hear him but her.

  “No, not yet. Listen, where the investigation of your sister’s disappearance comes into play I’m in charge. You need to remember that. Let me finish asking the necessary questions and making the necessary arrangements, and then we’ll talk.”

  She took a deep breath and focused her anger on the racetrack. This leg was between two pony girls. Both of them wore brightly colored outfits that included plumes on their head, bits in their mouths, and halters. One pony wore pink, and the other green. They sparkled in the afternoon sun.

  Both had small carts attached to the harnesses they wore, and Harper was fascinated, despite the fact she was worried sick about her sister.

  A starter gun went off and the race began, the ponies trotting down the lanes trailing their carts. Harper watched them, trying to take her mind off what she thought they should be focusing on. Walker and Oscar watched the race that the pink pony, whom she later learned was named Miss Sprinkles, won.

  When it was over, the two men put their heads together. She knew if she went over there, they would push her away until they were ready for her to hear, so she turned to the race track again. Miss Sprinkles was being adorned with flowers, just like the winner of a horse race, and her owner, a woman who looked to be about fifty, held a trophy aloft.

  The crowd cheered and Harper wondered how many races would be run today. She also wondered how a pony girl was trained. It looked interesting, but she knew there was nothing like this back home.

  She cut her gaze back to Walker, who looked pensive. He and Oscar talked for a few more minutes, and then he left. When Oscar came up to her, she stayed silent. Then, she inclined her head at him, hoping her posture would let him know she was curious.

  “He’s meeting the Johanssons in an hour, and then the boat leaves at seven.”

  She nodded. “What about Helena, and the man she’s with?” She whispered the words, hoping no one overheard.

  “You let Walker work as he needs to. You and I need to talk about that little temper tantrum you threw just a little while ago.”

  He put his hand on the small of her back and led her away from the crowd. Cheers went up, and she knew another leg of the race had started. She wondered if they gave out trophies for each leg, and if the people involved were as excited about each winner as they had been about the last.

  The beach was mostly deserted except for a few groups of people further off. They walked a ways in silence until Oscar cleared his throat.

  “You and I butt heads quite a bit.”

  “Yes, we do. I’m sorry about that. I know I have a lot to learn about submission, but where my sister is concerned, I’m quite passionate.”

  “Yes, you are. That’s a good thing, don’t get me wrong. But when we came here, we knew it was to be an undercover thing. Blurting out things like you did, and then getting angry with me would alert anyone involved in the situation pretty quickly, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes, it would. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thrown a fit.”

  “And?”

  “And, I know I’m going to be punished.” Harper sighed deeply, not exactly sure how she felt about getting another whipping from Oscar. It hurt yes, but the one on the boat had produced a fantastic orgasm. If she could have that happen again, then maybe punishment wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  She glanced at him as he studied her.

  “What?”

  “You learned a lot during your time in the cage.”

  A feeling of dread crept up her spine. “Yes, I suppose I did. That doesn’t mean I’d like to repeat it. Not really.”

  They walked a little more up the beach. He studied the ground around them and nodded. ‘This will do.”

  “Do for what?” The feeling of dread increased.

  “I’m going to bury you. Well, not me exactly. You’re going to dig the hole, and then I’ll get two of those nice male subbies to come over and cover you up.”

  “Bury me?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m going to leave your head above ground so you can breathe, but I want to pack the sand around you so you can’t move. Just a little immobilization.”

  “Is this punishment?”

  “Yes, it is. Punishment isn’t always about pain or sex. This is a mind game, and I think you’re suited for this one, a sort of sand mummification.”

  Harper frowned, not sure she’d heard correctly. She’d heard about mummification. It was total immobilization of a person, and she didn’t want to be unable to move, and she told him so.

  He winked at her and she stared at him.

  “Go up to the lifeguard stand and tell them you need a shovel. We won’t go too deep, maybe two feet. Enough to bury your body.”

  Harper stood still, knowing in her heart this was the first real test of her desire to be a submissive. If she said no, then she really had no business trying to be submissive. If she didn’t want to serve, she should go back to the hotel, pack up, and ask for another room. Then, when they’d found Helena, she could tell Walker to send her a bill.

  The problem, though, was that she wanted to be a submissive. And if she wanted to be, should the idea of being buried frighten her?

  “Have you ever done this before?”

  “Yes.” Oscar narrowed his eyes. “Go and get the shovel. Now.”

  Harper weighed her options and her desires. Then she turned toward the lifeguard stand, and a shovel.

  * * * *
*

  It took her more than an hour and a half to dig a hole the proper size. Every time she thought she was close, Oscar would shake his head and tell her to go deeper. It was taking so long he got two of the male subs to help her.

  When it was ready, he nodded in appreciation. “Very good. Now, take off the rest of your clothes and lie down.”

  The feeling of dread returned. He’d let her take off her tail while she was digging, and then partway through he’d ordered her to take off her blouse, so she’d been shoveling topless.

  She shimmied out of her skirt and stared at the hole. “Can I have towel? I really don’t care for the idea of sand in the crack of my ass or pussy.”

  Oscar looked as if he was contemplating her suggestion, and then he shook his head. “I don’t think so. Lie down.”

  As far as punishments went, Harper figured this was pretty tame. She lay down in the sand, wiggling into the tight hole with her head on the surface.

  “It looks like it might be just a tad uncomfortable,” Oscar said. “Dig out a depression for your head. That will make it better for you.”

  Harper did as he asked, then lay back down. He was right. If she’d stayed the other way she would have had a pain in her neck.

  “You sluts will fill her in, please, and make sure she’s packed tightly. I don’t want her to be able to move.”

  The first few shovelfuls of sand didn’t bother Harper as much as she thought they would. But then when the subs packed it down and continued to fill in the hole, she panicked. This was nothing like the cage, where she’d been able to move. She was bound tight in the sand, unable to move even her fingers.

  The filling in took much less time than the digging, and soon Harper was totally encased in sand. She battled against the wave of panic that rolled through her body as Oscar stood at her feet and pronounced her good and tight.

  “Come back in an hour, sluts. You can dig her up then.”

  When they were gone, Harper stared at him. “An hour?” She tried to move again, straining her muscles to try and shift the sand, to no avail.