by L. DuBois
Fingers toyed with her pussy lips, pinching and tugging them, then a finger circled the entrance to her body, pressing in just enough to remind her how achingly empty she was.
Something thick—it had to be at least two fingers—pressed against her entrance and Mae stiffened. She wanted to be filled, to be possessed in this primal way, but she wanted it to be Master Xavier who did it.
The tongue stroked her clit again, this time paired with a sudden thrust that filled her aching pussy.
Mae couldn’t hold back the orgasm. She screamed, her legs pulling against the straps, her hips arching up. She started to move her arms but the person kissing her neck held them down. Mae bit down on the ball as the orgasm continued to ripple through her.
The mouth and hands between her legs didn’t stop. They went to work on her clit in earnest, alternating flicks with long licks. The fingers inside her twisted, now rubbing her g-spot with each thrust. There were more hands and mouths on her—stroking the exposed lower curves of her breasts, nipping the soft skin of her hip and massaging her upper arms.
Mae sobbed into the gag, her skull thumping against the wood as she sobbed in a combination of exquisite pleasure and disappointment that she hadn’t been able to obey Xavier’s order. Not only had she failed to keep from orgasming, it had taken less than five minutes for her to lose the battle.
And as much as she regretted that, defeat felt very good.
The mouth and fingers on her pussy stopped their sweet torment, only to return a moment later. It took only a second for her to realize that there was someone new enjoying her pussy—the touch was different, not as precise. The realization that she really was helpless—that she couldn’t control who or how many people touched her—made her shudder in submissive delight. Though she’d come when she shouldn’t have, she wasn’t draped over this barrel, exposed for use, because she wanted to be.
She was here because her Master wanted her like this.
There was a rush of cold air on her saliva-damp neck as the person there left. She could tell someone else had taken their place, and she knew, though she couldn’t see, that it was Xavier. She turned her face to him, straining her head to reach him.
Fingers brushed her cheek, then her hair. “Did you come, Red?”
His dark voice washed over her. She nodded, wishing she could tell him she was sorry, tell him that she’d tried.
“I’m going to punish you for that.”
Mae nodded, hoping he couldn’t tell that right now the threat sounded more like foreplay. The person between her legs was quickly bringing her close to a second orgasm.
Xavier leaned close, his cheek brushing hers. “You’re lovely when you come…and you have a delicious pussy.” There was a smile in his voice.
That had been him? Delighted that he’d been the first to touch her, the first to make her orgasm, was quickly followed by irritation that he’d given an order and then made sure she’d fail.
“You jerk. I should have known it was you.” Her words were totally unintelligible.
Xavier laughed, as if he’d understood her despite the gag. The hands and mouths pleasuring Mae all stopped. She had the strangest feeling that everyone was looking at Xavier, as if they couldn’t believe what they’d just heard.
He brushed his lips over hers, the kiss awkward because of the gag, apparently not aware or not caring that he’d shocked everyone.
“You’d better not come again. If you do I might have to spank that pretty pussy.”
Mae came. It took her by surprise, the orgasm caused by the delicious threat, the undeniably erotic situation he’d put her in, and the sound of his voice in her ear. She couldn’t stop the moans, or her hips from lifting. Anyone watching would know exactly what was happening deep inside her, despite the fact that at that moment no one was touching her.
With a whimper at failing yet again she hid her face against her arm. Xavier tugged at her collar, then kissed her neck before rising.
Distantly she heard some ask, “Did he just make her orgasm with his voice alone?”
“Never mind that, did Master Xavier just laugh?”
*****
An hour later Mae was sure she had nothing left inside her. She was like a wrung-out cloth, tangled and empty. But then someone pushed another ice cube into her ass before rubbing her clit. Mae arched her back, her shoulders and head pressing against the submissive who was supporting her. Ten minutes ago Master Xavier had helped her to half sit up. She was still bound to the barrel, still blindfolded and gagged, but now her upper body was resting against someone, her bound hands looped over her supporter’s neck.
“Did you just come again?” Master Xavier was walking toward her. She could tell when he reached her side. It was as if there was a compass inside her, and he was true north.
She shook her head. She hadn’t come. At least she didn’t think so. Never before had she been exposed to such prolonged pleasure. This made a few “forced” orgasms from a vibrator seem like vanilla sex. If she hadn’t been gagged she would have long ago tried to get out of this, either by begging to be fucked or by pleading about how tired and sensitive she was.
With the gag in her mouth that wasn’t an option. She still held the safe word cloth, and every so often someone would tug on it, reminding her she had it. If her Master wanted her here, if he thought she could take more, then she would.
Two fingers circled her clit. Mae recognized the touch—Master Xavier had taken more turns than she could count, tormenting her, each time bringing her to a blistering orgasm.
Though she would have sworn she was too worn out to come again, after only a minute he had her sobbing through another orgasm.
When it was through, her stomach and thigh muscles continued to tremble—not with pleasure, but with exhaustion.
“You’ve been serviced enough.”
Mae’s arms were unbound and the person at her back gently lowered her to lie over the barrel once more. There was the screech of nails being pulled from wood, then the pressure of her leg bindings loosened. When they were gone she tried to straighten her legs, but they were too stiff. Multiple pairs of hands helped rub the circulation back into her limbs. Finally she was lifted off the barrel. She swayed on her feet, curling her fingers into Xavier’s shirt. He guided her a few steps to the left, turned her so that her back was to his chest, and unbuckled the blindfold. Mae blinked, her vision taking a long time to focus.
A naked woman was standing in front of her, a black collar labeling her a submissive. Her pale skin was marked by pink splotches and her face was free of makeup, though there was a streak of mascara along one temple. She was the vision of a well-used submissive, the kind of woman who obeyed without question, who gave everything she was over to a Master.
Mae let out a small sob, touching the red ball gag still in her mouth, watching the unfamiliar reflection mirror the motion. The black band still bound her breasts, her legs were crisscrossed with red stripes from the bindings, the bites on her inner thigh had darkened to semicircular bruises, and her pussy lips were swollen and deep pink, an obvious result of being well-used.
She’d never seen herself look like this, and she wasn’t sure what it meant.
Her knees started to buckle and Xavier grabbed her upper arms. She looked at him—a dark presence looming over her shoulder. He looked implacable and hard. He looked like the kind of man who left a sub marked and wrung out.
She touched the gag again, begging without words for him to take it out. He shook his head, heartlessly denying her request. Tears filled her eyes. Mae couldn’t bear to look in the mirror anymore.
Turning, she clung to Xavier’s chest, sobbing. He held her, hands rubbing her back, dipping down to touch her ass, which only reminded her of the flogging last night. When her knees gave out he lowered her to the floor.
“Hands and knees, Mae.” His voice was gentle, though the command was not. He gathered her hair, twirling it into a rope. Using it as a leash he walked over to a cou
ch, Mae crawling beside him.
When he sat she collapsed at his feet, resting her head on his knee.
He stroked her hair, then lifted her onto the couch beside him. Mae blinked back fresh tears of relief. He unbuckled the gag, but when Mae quickly spat it out, he frowned at her.
“No, Mae. Not until I remove it or give you permission.”
He held the gag up to her lips. She met his gaze, sure that he wouldn’t make her keep wearing it. There was no quarter, no pity, in his gaze. His will washed over her, and she submitted. Opening her mouth she sat obediently when he pushed the hated thing between her teeth.
Mae felt like a plucked string, taut and vibrating so hard that she might snap. Tentatively she crawled onto his lap, nestling her ass between his splayed thighs and resting her head on his shoulder. She waited for him to shove her onto the floor, reprimand her in some way.
But Xavier curled his arms around her and kissed her forehead. Mae closed her eyes in relief. He’d pushed her, demanded more of her than anyone ever had before, but now, in his arms, she knew that he would also protect her.
Mae gave in to the exhaustion that weighed on her, falling asleep in his arms.
*****
Xavier tugged the gag from her mouth. Mae’s only response was to snuggle tighter against him. He was trying to figure out how to move her so he could undo the breast binding when James dropped down onto the couch beside him.
“Need help?”
“If I shift her can you undo the strap?”
James nodded. Still cradling her in his arms, Xavier twisted Mae’s upper body so James could undo the buckle. There were hard red lines along her breasts where the edges of the binding had cut in. Xavier repositioned Mae, then rubbed the marks. Even in her sleep her nipples pebbled at his touch.
“Xavier, you need to be careful.” The other man looked troubled.
“Thank you for your opinion.” He made sure his tone conveyed that he in fact did not give a shit what the other man thought.
James’s jaw clenched. “You’re playing a dangerous game with her.”
“Exactly, I’m playing the game.”
“No, you’re opening her up, and I’m worried about her. About what will happen when you leave. She may have been a player in the lifestyle for years, but no one has ever gotten to the core of her, not the way you have.”
“And that’s on you.” Though Xavier liked James, he was battling a sense of contempt that James and others had dominated Mae without seeing what she really was.
“You’re not understanding what’s really happening here. I heard about the beginning of the scene.”
“What about it?”
“She admitted she would rather be tortured with orgasm denial than to have anyone but you make her come. Don’t you get it? That’s something a sub does for their Master. Their Master. I didn’t figure out that Mae needed harder play, because I couldn’t. She would never have done that—” James motioned to the far side of the room and the barrel “—for me.”
“A good Dom—”
“Don’t insult me by finishing that sentence. You know that the chemistry between two people can completely change a dynamic. You two have something.”
Xavier stared at the empty fireplace. There was some truth in James’s words. His connection with Mae, the way she responded to him and the way she made him respond to her, was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.
“I’ll make sure she understands.”
“Understands what?” James sounded exasperated.
“Understands that she doesn’t want someone like me. Yes, she needs someone who’s into more than just spankings. She needs pain play, and more extreme domination. But she doesn’t want what I am, what I’d do to her.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“No, but I am sure that if she’s going to explore this she needs a regular play partner—a commitment.”
James shook his head. “It’s a shame; the two of you have something.”
Xavier wouldn’t insult what he felt for Mae, or what she’d gone through, by denying it. “Mae deserves to be collared and bound. I can’t do that.”
James looked at Xavier’s masked face. “I know, and I’m sorry that’s the case. For you as much as for her.”
When James left, Xavier pulled Mae closer. Giving in to impulse, he kissed each eyelid, her cheeks, and the corners of her mouth. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as Mae writhing in pleasure, never felt anything as powerful as knowing that though there were more hands on her than his, each bit of pleasure she felt was by his will.
It was time to change the plan, to skip ahead a few steps. The sooner he started to put emotional distance between them the better.
But that could wait a few hours. Right now he needed to hold her.
*****
The kiss woke her. Mae kept her eyes closed as awareness returned slowly. Her body was still heavy with exhaustion, but she was vaguely aware that she was lying on something soft.
Warm lips slid along her jaw to her neck.
“Mae.” Her name was a plea.
“Master.” She reached into the darkness, found his strong shoulders. “Xavier.”
The heavy weight of a male body settled over her. Mae, eyes still closed, moaned as her nipples brushed against his bare chest. She trailed her palms down his naked sides to his hips.
“Touch me.”
Her questing fingers found the hard length of his cock. He was long and thick, his balls already drawn up tight to his body. She should open her eyes, look at what she held, but she was too tired, and this was only a dream anyway.
Mae toyed with the tip of his cock, rubbing the wetness she found there down the shaft.
Then he was pushing her thighs open. She winced slightly as her sore muscles protested, but then his cock was at the entrance to her body. Mae whimpered when he entered her.
“Are you too sore?” Kisses rained down along her cheek and temple.
“Go slow,” she replied.
Inch by inch he pressed into her, opening her wide and filling her—not just her body, but filling the well of need deep inside.
When he was fully seated, Mae wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging to him as he thrust into her. She shivered in pleasure that wasn’t quite an orgasm, but was enough to have her moaning.
“Mae, yes.” His face pressed against hers, and she was sad to realize that even in her dreams he wore the mask. Then he was slamming into her, groaning as he came.
When he was done and pulled out of her, Mae curled up on her side.
“Go back to sleep.” A final kiss to her brow was the last thing Mae remembered of the strange, sweet dream.
Chapter Eight
Mae stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her head. It felt glorious to be clean and well rested. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on Master Xavier’s lap after that ridiculously intense scene in the Library. She’d slept for close to ten hours, waking at midnight in the same bed she’d used last night. But unlike before she’d slept well, without the restlessness and nightmares that had plagued her the first night. She’d had one vivid sex dream about Xavier, so real she’d still been able to taste his kiss when she woke. Mae might have slept through until morning if someone hadn’t set the bedside alarm clock to go off at twelve a.m.
She’d found a note under a water bottle waiting beside the chiming alarm.
1:30 a.m.
Iron Court
Your choice of attire
X
Mae didn’t have time to dry her hair, so she braided it before putting on the only other outfit she’d brought with her for the weekend. The steampunk-style under-bust corset and leather panties were a bit less girly than her normal clothes. They were both prototypes, and Mae was glad she’d chosen to test them out this weekend.
She put on an off-the-shoulder sheer lace shirt under the corset, the lace spaced widely enough that it was not hard to spot the pink of he
r nipples.
Next she put on the panties which were modeled after vintage lingerie cuts—high in the waist and nearly straight across the top of the thigh. These were made of thick brown spandex with panels of faux leather to give it a steampunk look, and there were decorative bits of chain at one hip. The embellishments matched the clasp closures down the front of the corset. She finished the look with sheer white thigh-highs and gold pumps with lacings up the heel that mimicked rope bondage.
Examining herself in the mirror, Mae decided that she did like the outfit. When she got home on Monday she’d make the call on the new line. Though it was different from her original brand—a brand Mae was mother-bear protective of—she could imagine the girl who would buy this and wear it, which was what mattered.
Wishing that she had time to dry and curl her hair, which would help soften the look, Mae instead applied her makeup, and then, with twenty minutes to spare, left the Subs’ Garden.
This time no one looked twice at her. With the most obvious of her marks covered, Mae no longer wore the evidence of her submission for all to see. She regretted that—not that she was going to go back and strip—but she’d liked showing off Master Xavier’s domination of her.
At this hour of night the club was alive with activity. Subtle lighting made it easy to see where she was going in the myriad of indoor-outdoor spaces, but didn’t detract from the darkness of the night. Voices spilled from the library and dining room, but Mae wasn’t tempted to stop. Quick steps carried her toward Master Xavier.
When she rounded the corner and saw the Iron Court, her feet slowed. The statuary garden was lit not only with strategic landscape lighting, but by dozens of torches, clustered around a small stage that had been erected in the center. A few Doms were milling around, and when she appeared, their attention snapped to her. Mae snuck a quick glance at the stage, which was three feet off the ground and roughly five feet by five feet, then knocked on the door of the room where she’d first met Xavier.
