Her World of Submission

by Justine Elyot

  But this was silly. I couldn’t just stand here. Jasper was waiting.

  There was a creak of bedsprings, then a grunt from Dimitri, then the unmistakable sound of someone getting very soundly fucked. The springs bounced bounced bounced and Rosie made a weird purry-gaspy noise that denoted hectic pleasure.

  Oh, what the hell. They weren’t going to be looking out for me now.

  I made a determined stride forward, but as soon as my eye caught – without really trying to, but somehow just landing there – the sight of the couple on the bed I had to stop and drink them in. Just for a second. Just because it was gorgeous and horny and I had never seen a pair of lovers taking such delight in each other before, apart from Jasper and me on the screen, and self-consciousness always intruded on those images for me.

  Dimitri’s muscles stood out in his arms like whipcord as he braced himself above Rosie. His panoply of tattoos moved and flexed in rhythm with his thrusts, subtly changing the expression of a fierce-looking dragon with each in and out. A shark’s tooth hung from his neck on a black leather thong, swinging furiously, sometimes grazing Rosie’s skin. He had the body of a warrior, I thought, lean and spare and ready for battle.

  Rosie, beneath him, was softer and rounder, her fingers laced together at the back of his neck, her legs raised and wrapped around him so that her heels bounced off his coccyx, giving him a deep angle of penetration.

  But the real beauty was their faces. They were completely absorbed in each other and the pleasure they gave and received. Dimitri was working, his expression one of intense concentration mixed with a kind of wild rapture. Rosie’s face was dewy, her eyes were almost unfocused, but her adoration was clear to see.

  Jasper would take such a wonderful still of this. Their faces, close and intent and transformed with love, could be a bestselling poster for the walls of student bedsits.

  I felt a love for them, and for their love itself, that almost made me sink to my knees in the doorway and sigh.

  But I didn’t. I scuttled off to the treasure chest, feeling aglow with a strange sense of the wondrousness of life and our astounding good luck in finding each other – me and Jasper, Rosie and Dimitri.

  I opened the lid and let myself see the contents of the chest as if it were that first time again. That first time … I drifted off, recalling that fateful trespass with Will into Jasper’s private domain. We had thought he was in France.

  For Will, the chest had been something to chortle over, to raise an eyebrow and make a ribald joke or two about the queerness of folk.

  For me, on the other hand, it had been the personal equivalent of uncovering the hoard of Tutankhamun. And the golden King was Jasper.

  How I had trembled, from a kind of holy fear, at what lay before me.

  I trembled before it again. It seemed to represent my future. I could shut the box and choose a different path. Or I could accept the box, accept that it, and Jasper, were to be my life. Pandora had had it easy: a straight choice between knowledge and ignorance. This box was more complicated than that.

  But, for now, I had a task. I had to select items for the movie, and this was easy enough. I grabbed half a dozen spanking implements, from the teasers to the serious stuff, then rummaged for other entertainments. Jasper liked to add little touches here and there, so it would be as well to have a variety of props on hand. Lubricant seemed like an obvious choice. A beautiful pair of antique nipple clamps with pearl teardrops dangling from the silver rings. An elaborately figured collar and leash. These were probably the extent of Rosie’s experimentations in a public setting, but Trix and Jasper would probably want to go all-out for the final scene. What could I provide that would satisfy their wilder desires?

  A green marble dildo caught my eye, so elegant in design that you could imagine having it as an ornament on your mantel. Furthermore, it had a matching butt plug. Jasper had never used these on me, and I wondered for a moment if perhaps they were too precious for actual use. I put them back and brought out instead some less attractive but more modern versions, still in their packaging. I wasn’t going to make Trix share something as intimate as that. Besides, perhaps the marble numbers had been used before, on some sweet submissive of years gone by. I imagined a big-eyed flapper girl bending for her beau, a moustachioed chap in a boater and striped blazer.

  Would that be all? I hadn’t included any bondage gear. Perhaps I ought to. I took out a pretty harness of plaited silk rope, joined at strategic points with silver rings. I had no idea how this would be worn, but it looked good.

  I put my selections into the laundry basket and set off for the filming suite.

  Dimitri and Rosie were quiet now, but their door still stood open.

  To my consternation, I noticed as I drew level with it that Dimitri was leaning up against the door jamb, half-dressed in ripped jeans and nothing else. His face was still a little red from previous exertions, but there was a dark look in his eye.

  ‘Ah,’ he cried, brightening. ‘Sarah. This is good. You can help us.’

  ‘Oh, can I? How?’

  ‘Rosie will not decide what to wear. I have my idea but she says she is not sure. I think a woman’s eye, yes?’

  ‘Oh. All right.’ I put down my basket and edged into the room, trying hard not to gawp at Dimitri’s glorious bare chest on the way past.

  Rosie sat on the extremely unmade bed, wearing only a towel and looking with bleak desperation at three outfits hanging from the canopy of the four-poster.

  ‘What do you think, Sarah?’ she said. ‘I can’t make my mind up. Or there are others, in the closet over the way. But these are my favourites so far.’

  Outfit one was essentially a piece of camouflage netting made into a dress – although the net was of an elasticated material, like fishnet but with wider holes. It would leave nothing to the imagination, and was quite practical from the point of clipping rings and hooks and suchlike to it. Perhaps it could be useful.

  ‘I’d wear underwear with that,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, surely no need,’ I said. ‘I think underwear for clubbing, no underwear for kinky scenes.’

  ‘Then I can’t wear it,’ she wailed. ‘It’s too revealing.’

  ‘But you’ll be showing everything anyway, at some point or other.’

  She pursed her lips.

  ‘I know,’ she muttered.

  ‘Hey. If you don’t want to, nobody’s going to make you.’

  ‘It’s OK. It’s not coyness or anything like that. Just boring body hang-ups.’

  ‘There’s nothing at all wrong with your body. It’s lovely.’

  ‘That’s what Dimitri said,’ she replied, sounding a bit cross. ‘But you don’t see it the way I do. The way I’ll see it on film.’

  ‘Well … I don’t want to get into this. You’ll look good in whatever. I like the middle outfit for scene one – very appropriate.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said, reaching out to finger its satiny skirt. It was a version of a French maid’s outfit, very brief, with tulle petticoats underneath the tiny flared skirt and a lacy apron to be worn separately over the top. The maid’s dress had a corseted top that ended below the bust. The apron, which was sheer and white, could go some way to covering the breasts, but if it was removed they would be completely bare.

  ‘Since you’re meant to be serving Trix in that scene,’ I reminded her. ‘It’s definitely the best one for that bit.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she repeated. ‘OK. I’ll wear it for the first part.’

  ‘And I really like this for meeting your new owner,’ I said, looking at outfit three. It was an underwear set made of a wet-look black material I couldn’t identify. The bra had gauzy peepholes for the nipples and the knickers had no back, just a set of black straps that would frame the bottom perfectly. Between bra and knickers was a shiny corset-style suspender belt to attach to a pair of stockings.

  ‘You’ll look seriously rude in that,’ I said. ‘Imagine Dimitri seeing you for the first time wearing it.’
>
  ‘Mm, same problem as the first,’ said Rosie uncertainly.

  ‘That’s just a problem in your head. Believe me, the viewers – and remember, it’s only us – will be sliding down in their seats with lust when they see you.’

  ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘I know so! Look at you, girl! You’re gorgeous.’

  ‘I need to tone up, though,’ she moaned.

  ‘Oh, tone up, schmone up. Nobody’s going to be looking at your abs.’

  She laughed at that, then stopped abruptly and said, ‘Oh, God. Am I really doing this? And are you, Sarah Uptight Wells, really encouraging me to take part in a porn film? It’s too surreal. I can’t get my head round it.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll regret it?’ It was a genuine question. I had got over my qualms about making sexy films with Jasper, but this seemed a step further, over a border into something else.

  She reached out and fingered the material of the underwear set.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘After everything I’ve done with Dimitri at the club … it’s no different, except it’s being filmed. As long as it doesn’t end up on YouTube.’

  ‘It won’t. Jasper’s really careful about that sort of thing.’ I felt a twinge, remembering the affair of the sex tape that Will had stolen. But that was a one-off piece of bad luck.

  ‘Good. OK. Outfits two and three. Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  Dimitri high-fived me as I walked out of the room, putting a goofy smile on my face. I picked up my basket and fled.

  Downstairs, Jasper and Trix were discussing the finer points of camera work, Trix taking a curious turn behind the camera, trying to make a film of Jasper doing exaggerated modelling poses on the Turkish rug.

  ‘Ah, special delivery,’ he said, taking his hand away from the tie knot he’d been tugging on while pouting at the lens in a what he probably hoped was a sultry manner. ‘Let’s see the goods. Are Dimitri and Rosie coming down any time today?’

  He rummaged in the basket, making little sounds of approval and delight at each new discovery.

  ‘Rosie was having a wardrobe crisis,’ I said. ‘All sorted now.’

  ‘Good. Right. Let’s set up, then. Sarah, I’m going to put you on that camera over there. Just keep filming, basically. Zoom in now and then if you feel it’ll help. No need for anything fancy, just keep things steady.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ I said, glad to have my position made clear.

  ‘Trix, you’re on the chaise-longue, looking vampy. Come on, I know you can manage that.’

  She could.

  Dimitri and Rosie came down together about ten minutes later.

  Rosie was in the French maid’s outfit and she looked deliciously saucy. I half wanted to put her over my knee myself. It was clear she wasn’t wearing knickers – the low curve of her bottom cheeks peeked out of the tulle petticoats every time she bent even slightly. Long suspenders showed off her pale thighs, ending at the fishnet stocking tops. She wasn’t wearing shoes, which I expected Jasper to pick her up on, but he didn’t.

  ‘Right, is everyone OK with lines?’ asked Jasper.

  Trix and Rosie both said they were.

  ‘Good. Rosie, you start this scene kneeling in front of Trix. Off you go. And … action.’

  Trix straightened her back and her face turned in an instant from mild and friendly to cold and stern. I was impressed. She always seemed such a natural sub, and here she was, practically all domme.

  ‘Rosie, you know why I have called you to me, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Rosie’s voice was quiet, only just audible. She would have to speak up.

  ‘Tell me. And a bit louder, please.’ That wasn’t in the script, but it was helpful, so Jasper let it pass.

  ‘You have found me a master, ma’am,’ she said, more distinctly this time.

  ‘That’s right. I have a man who is very interested in you. Naturally, I have told him that you are one of our best trainees, ready to submit to him in every way he wishes. I hope I told him right, Rosie.’

  ‘Oh, you did, ma’am.’

  ‘Let’s see, shall we? One last little test run before you have to face the real examination. Wine.’

  She snapped her fingers and Rosie swivelled on her knees and began to crawl to the drinks cabinet. Jasper dealt with the tracking shot. I did a close-up on her bottom, which was pointing up to the ceiling, the tulle petticoats and stiff satin overskirt revealing all.

  She straightened up and reached to pour a glass of champagne from an open bottle. She then moved very carefully, on her knees and taking great care not to spill a drop, back to Trix.

  ‘Ma’am,’ she said, handing it over.

  ‘An event worth celebrating,’ said Trix, sipping the bubbles. ‘He’s a very rich Russian gentleman, and he knows how to treat girls like you. What kind of girl are you, Rosie?’

  ‘A bad girl, ma’am.’

  ‘That’s right. A very bad girl. And what do bad girls like you need, Rosie?’

  ‘Strict discipline, ma’am.’

  ‘Very good. Quite right. Stand up. Let’s put you through your paces.’

  Rosie stood up, keeping her head down and eyes to the ground.

  ‘Hands on head. Legs apart. Bend over.’

  Rosie complied with each barked order. Standing pivoted at the waist with her bottom framed by her flouncy skirts and her pussy lips nude and parted between her thighs, she looked gorgeously decadent. She held the position well while Trix put down her glass, stood up and walked around her, slowly.

  ‘You’ll spend a lot of time bent over,’ she said, running a latex-gloved fingertip along the crease of Rosie’s bottom and thighs. ‘Get used to it.’ She cupped the back of one thigh in her black glossy palm, then smacked it lightly. ‘Oh, well held.’

  Rosie had remained in perfect position. I was impressed. She and Dimitri must play a lot of scenes together; she was better disciplined than me. I suspected the shock of Trix’s touch would have sent me staggering forwards.

  ‘All fours,’ barked Trix, so suddenly that I made the camera judder.

  Rosie completed the order, but clumsily. I knew this was in the script, but it looked so real, and felt so real, that I was rather in awe of her. For a second or two she was all flailing elbows and fussy frills, then she corrected herself into as elegant a posture as all fours can possibly be.

  ‘Oh, tut tut tut.’ Trix shook her head, smiling. ‘That wasn’t quite right, was it, my dear?’

  ‘So sorry, ma’am.’

  ‘You know what I have to do now, Rosie? And I shouldn’t have to remind you.’

  ‘Please punish me for my lapse, ma’am.’

  ‘Indeed I will. And you get extra strokes for being tardy in making your request.’

  Trix picked up the flogger from the occasional table on which the toys were displayed. Her tight dress caught every beam of light, making her glint and flash as she crossed the room.

  She stood by Rosie’s hips, trailing the soft leather thongs over Rosie’s upturned bottom. I shut my eyes and bit my lip, savouring the moment of anticipation.

  But I didn’t want to miss this stunning visual treat, so I refocused as quickly as I could on the two women, intent on punishment.

  Trix knew how to flog. She knew how to mix teasing and tormenting, and she knew when to stop playing and start delivering a brisk red bum.

  Rosie’s little gasps and sighs were lovely to hear. She was noisier than me, or me these days – I’d been noisy enough at the start of my relationship with Jasper.

  She didn’t appear to be suffering, though. Her eyes were shut and she was in a dreamy place. I couldn’t tell from here if she was wet, but I had a feeling Jasper’s camera would be catching a close-up of the answer to that particular question.

  She was a glowing bright red by the time Trix finished, a minute and a half later.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ she said, in a low, sensual voice, sounding as if sh
e meant it.

  Trix told her to stay there while she fetched something else – the collar and leash. She attached Rosie to it and took her for ‘walkies’, making her jiggle around the room until they reached the centre again.

  Rosie stood and was made to take off her apron, revealing her breasts. Her nipples were already stiff and red, but Trix insisted on making them even more so with the antique nipple clamps.

  ‘Now,’ she said, after fixing the second of them to a wincing, eye-rolling Rosie. ‘Keep those on and go to prepare to meet your master. He will be here very soon.’

  The scene ended with Rosie crawling out of shot, the leash dragging along the floor behind her, whilst Trix sat back down and took a nonchalant sip of her champagne.

  ‘Nice,’ said Jasper, clapping his hands. ‘Rosie, that was terrific. Very naturalistic, but also very professional. I’d use you again. In fact, I’m about to. Break for half an hour to get changed and then we’re back.’

  ‘Do I have to keep these clamps on all that time?’ asked an aghast Rosie.

  Jasper laughed.

  ‘I’ll leave that up to Dimitri,’ he said.

  Dimitri shook his head.

  ‘Put them back for the scene, OK?’ he said, pulling Rosie to her feet and kissing her, the leash wrapped around one of his fists while his other hand strayed to explore how hot her bottom was.

  I swallowed and looked away from them. God, they were hot together. I was half afraid of how I’d cope with their on-screen chemistry.

  I went to pour myself a glass of the champagne. No point in letting it go flat.

  ‘Trix, are you sure you aren’t a domme in sub’s clothing?’ asked Jasper gallantly.

  She raised her glass to him.

  ‘Here’s to acting,’ she said.

  He joined me at the drinks cabinet.

  ‘How are you getting on, then?’ he asked softly, his chin on my shoulder. ‘That was pretty hot, hmm?’

  ‘Yes,’ I agreed, pouring him a glass.

  ‘And it’s only going to get hotter. Might need some more of that snow down your knickers.’

  ‘Jasper!’

  He chuckled and kissed me beneath my earlobe.