by L. DuBois
It was empty. Anna closed the door and exhaled, shutting herself in the dark opulence of the Orion room. There were six rooms around the Constellation Courtyard and Anna had played in several of them, but never this one, which seemed larger than the others. Like all the rooms in this section of the mansion, the Orion room was a study of dark and light. The walls and ceiling were midnight blue and set with tiny lights meant to represent stars. She’d heard from the other subs that the constellations the rooms were named for were outlined in the lights. Anna had never been positioned on her back long enough to learn if that were true. Columns of light shot up from the floor, and spotlights in the ceiling shone down onto several play areas. In a place of honor in the center was a St. Andrew’s cross, the straps dangling loose, the metal buckles gleaming silver.
Anna adjusted her corset and stockings, and then padded over to an empty pool of light. She knelt there, assuming the waiting position Master Jensen preferred. If she’d been paired with a different Dom for this insane “game,” she might already be in trouble—every Dom had different preferences for how a sub should enter the room, how they should wait, and what they should, or shouldn’t, be wearing. Normally the sub would know all this going in, because the play time would have been negotiated, but she was trusting Las Palmas, and had to believe that whoever walked through the door would be skilled and experienced enough to dominate her. Her heart was fluttering in her chest and a shiver ran over her. She’d never imagined that anyone but Master Jensen would touch her again. She hadn’t felt this kind of anxiety in years. The feeling was similar to pre-first date jitters, but more powerful. A first date was nerve-wracking, but usually involved nothing more threatening than a kiss. The first time with a new Dom meant giving control of body and mind to someone.
The floor was glossy wood, and much nicer on her knees than the concrete in the barn. She focused on her breathing, taking each breath gently and carefully, noting the way the air felt as it passed over her lips and tongue. Normally this would be enough to take her in to sub-space, but she was too nervous. She’d become lazy and comfortable after so many months with Master Jensen. If the overseers had decided to do this a few months from now she would have been safely bonded and no one else would have been able to use her—but now she was alone, and risked not only her body and mind at the hands of an unknown player, but the ire of her Master.
The door opened and the fading sunlight that filled the courtyard streamed in, adding golden tones to the blues and whites of the room. Footsteps tapped across the wood, and the door swung shut, sealing her in here with a Dom she couldn’t yet see. She risked one glance at the wall then dropped her eyes. When the overseers turned what had once been bedrooms into play rooms, they eliminated the closets, using the space they gained to create viewing rooms sandwiched between the larger play spaces. Though it was difficult to see anything in the darkness beyond the spotlight, she knew there would be a large one-way mirror on the wall, which allowed people seated in the viewing room to watch what was happening, either for their own enjoyment or to protect those inside.
The tips of a pair of glossy black dress shoes appeared at the edge of the ring of light. Anna caught her breath, holding very still. Not Master Jensen—he wasn’t the dress-shoes type. Anna blinked to dispel the tears that gathered in her eyes. Up until that moment she’d secretly been expecting her Master, Master Jensen, to walk in to the room.
Should she refuse to submit? Should she use her safe word, get up and walk out? Anna tensed, unsure what to do.
The Dom didn’t say anything. Turning to the right, he circled her, staying in the shadows so that all she saw were his expensive shoes and the cuffs of his black dress slacks.
She could protest, say that she wouldn’t submit for anyone but Master Jensen.
He stopped in front of her and took one step forward, bringing everything up to his chest into the light. He wore a perfect black one-button suit with a crisp white shirt and thin black tie. His left hand was tucked into his pocket, pulling the side of his jacket back. His right hand was encased in a black leather glove. He pointed to her with the first two fingers on his right hand then tipped them up. Anna stared at him, not sure what she should do. It was the first time she’d failed to instantly obey an order in years.
After a moment of silence the Dom walked away. He stepped into the light, this time holding a riding crop and a pair of cuffs.
They were symbols, items so quintessentially linked to BDSM that when she saw them Anna remembered why she chose to submit, and what that submission meant. The overseers were right—her relationship with Master Jensen had made her complacent. Surrendering body and mind to gain sexual and emotional fulfillment had kept her sane. It was dangerous to forget that she didn’t just enjoy being mastered—she needed it.
She wouldn’t flee, wouldn’t protest being dominated by someone new, because though her emotions were involved with Master Jensen, she was a true submissive. She’d given Las Palmas power over her body and choices, and she would obey.
Anna took deep slow breaths letting go of her questions and worries. Her heart clenched, and there was still part of her that was crying out for her Master, but she was well trained, and would obey as she should. After a few minutes of practiced breathing she was calm, her body warm and ready for a Master’s touch.
“I’m sorry, Master. I’m yours to use as you see fit.” Her words hung in the air. Though his shoulders and head were still in shadow Anna could just make out the movement as he nodded.
Anna bowed her head, waiting for his first command.
Chapter Two
The tip of the crop tapped the underside of her chin. Anna looked up. The Master dropped the cuffs to the floor and again gestured using two fingers.
Sub sign language.
When Anna had first been introduced to the world of BDSM she’d set out to learn everything she could about it, including taking an online class on “sub sign language” designed to be used to maintain secrecy in the vanilla world or when the Dom preferred silence. She’d never been with a Master who used it, but she had a bad feeling she might have indicated that she knew it on her BDSM Checklist.
Anna slowly rose to her feet, guessing as to what the gesture meant. The tip of the crop slid down her breasts. The Dom motioned again, this time raising pinky and thumb. Anna bit her lip, then clasped her hands together at the small of her back.
Crack. The crop struck the bare skin of her thigh above the top of her stocking. Anna sucked in a little breath as he repeated the gesture. This time she raised her arms, lacing her fingers together behind her neck. The crop rose and Anna winced, hating that she’d made such a terrible first impression on this Dom. First she’d been hesitant to obey an order, now she wasn’t obeying correctly.
He touched the tip of the crop to the center of her forehead. Anna blinked, then closed her eyes. The folded leather slid down her cheek, over her chest to her right breast. She breathed a sigh of relief that she’d gotten it right. Her whole body was on alert. She’d forgotten how stimulating the fear or the unknown could be, and this Master was a dangerous mystery.
He took two steps and then the crop was gone, replaced by hands. He cupped and kneaded her breasts through the thin fabric of her corset and Anna couldn’t help but moan. The Dom slid his fingers beneath the material, lifting her right breast and then folding her corset down, creating a shelf for her now exposed breast, presenting it to him.
At the touch of the cool air her nipple beaded, and Anna wished she could squeeze her legs together to address the aching in her pussy. The danger this Dom presented and the unknown pleasures and pain that lay before her had her nearly at the point of climax.
The Dom walked away. Anna kept her eyes closed and focused on her breathing. She tried to stay in the moment, to be the good submissive she’d been trained to be, but she couldn’t stop her thoughts from shifting to Master Jensen. Would he be angry that another man was using her? He would. He’d be furious that anyone el
se had touched her, but he knew, as she did, that being a part of this lifestyle meant that until they made their relationship formal there were no guarantees.
If she’d been a different kind of woman—a woman who thought pain had no place in sex and that bruises from a lover’s hands were a sign of danger—she would have run screaming from Las Palmas rather than let another man touch her. But she was a submissive, and when she gave herself over to this life she did it wholly, and without reservation. She’d forgotten that for a moment, but wouldn’t make that mistake again. Her checklist would indicate that she was willing to play with any Dom, because she’d completed the list and set her personal limits before Master Jensen entered her life, and before they’d developed the relationship they now had.
Jensen was the Master. If he didn’t want her to be used by someone else, it was up to him to stop it.
That thought brought a little smile to her lips. Her job was to submit and obey—she shouldn’t have to worry or plan. She got to leave those things behind when she drove up the palm lined driveway.
The Dom returned, standing so close to her that she could feel the heat of his body. He stroked her right breast, the leather of his gloves buttery soft. He pinched her nipple, twisting and then lifting it until she gasped and rose onto her toes. He released her, leaving her right nipple throbbing and her left aching for want of the same treatment. Something cool touched the inner swell of her breast, tracing a path up to her collar bone and then down the other side. Anna wanted to open her eyes, but she obediently kept them closed. What had he applied to her breast?
He moved away and she heard the door open. Anna froze. Had he left, or someone else entered?
“Open your eyes to see your letter,” a female voice said.
Anna opened her eyes and looked around. She could see the shadowed outline of a woman kneeling five feet in front of her. The Dom was nowhere in sight.
Anna looked down at her bare right breast. It took her a minute to understand what the red lines painted there represented. Her lips twitched.
“A scarlet letter.” The painted ‘A’ glistened against her pale skin.
“Please position yourself on the St. Andrews cross,” the woman said.
Anna kept her hands behind her head, turned, and with a slow, graceful walk went over to the leather covered “X.” The bottoms of the leg portions ended in padded platforms. Anna positioned her back against the cross and then stepped up onto the platforms. It spread her legs wide, enough that there was no way to pretend she was anything other than on display. She unlinked her fingers and raised her arms, laying them along the upper pieces.
The woman had followed her, and when she stepped into the light Anna could see she too was a sub and naked except for a body chain that started in a choker around her neck, and draped and swaged its way down to her pussy. Clamps on her nipples and pussy lips helped hold the jewelry in place.
The dark haired sub attached straps around Anna’s ankles, thighs, waist, ribs, upper arms and wrists. When she was done, the sub turned and walked to the door, slipping out.
Anna was left alone to contemplate her situation. The St. Andrew’s cross leaned back slightly, and the center supported her back. On either side of her were large rectangular boxes, which she knew contained the mechanisms that allowed the cross to rotate from upright to flat and then to upside down, depending on how the Dom wanted to use the sub.
A minute passed, then five. Anna struggled to keep from screaming. If Master Jensen were here, he’d take one look at her and know what she needed—a good, hard fuck. She closed her eyes and imagined he was there, his rugged, scarred body naked from the waist up, his stubbled cheek scraping hers as he leaned in to demand that she beg to be fucked. When she did, he’d rip open his jeans and thrust his long, hard cock into her.
She was so lost in the fantasy that she didn’t register the sound of returning footsteps until they were close.
The Dom stepped into the circle of light. His face was shadowed by a fedora. All she could see was the edge of a smooth jaw. In his trim, elegant suit with the hat shading his face he looked like a celebrity hiding from photographers.
The brim of his hat dipped a bit as he looked her over. Anna could only hope what he saw pleased him. She was lightly muscled and toned—she worked hard for this body—but that didn’t mean he’d like it. Maybe he preferred larger breasts, or more curves. Maybe he liked girls with darker skin who wouldn’t bruise as easily.
He circled around behind her and took a fist full of her hair, pulling her head back so she was looking at the ceiling and the pattern of stars represented there.
“What’s our letter?” he whispered.
“A,” she replied. His hold on her hair tightened. “A, Sir,” she repeated, louder this time.
“What do you think is on our list?” He hissed the question.
Anna licked her lips. She had the first letter of the alphabet—lucky her.
“I don’t remember what’s on the list, Sir.”
He released her and walked away. From somewhere in the dark a whip cracked against the floor.
Anna whimpered at the implied threat. “I don’t remember, but I can guess, Sir.”
Silence.
“Anal,” she said. “Anal would be on there.” She shivered. Anna wasn’t an anal virgin by any means, but she didn’t have the same level of experience as many other subs did. She considered it foreplay. Anna never really felt satisfied unless a session ended with a good, hard pussy-fucking, but she knew there were Doms and subs who would do nothing but anal.
He returned, holding a dark blue velvet bag in one gloved hand, the crop in the other. Setting the bag down, he got out a pair of scissors. Anna knew what was coming. She spent more on lingerie in a month than some people did on their mortgage payments.
The Dom stroked her naked right breast, then pinched her left nipple through the material of her corset.
He undid the strap over her ribs, and started popping open the front closures of her corset. Anna was surprised—she’d been sure he would cut it off, but instead he opened it down the front and pulled the fabric free from behind her back, tossing it to the side. He ran the tip of the scissors lightly down the center line of her body, then flipped it in his hand and rubbed the curved handle against the mound of her sex.
Anna jerked forward, gasping at the sudden spike of pleasure. She hadn’t been expecting the touch, didn’t have time to think—only react.
He chuckled lightly and she glanced up. The warm chuckle was exactly the kind of response Master Jensen would have had and for a moment her gaze narrowed, examining the Dom, but it wasn’t Master Jensen. He was shorter and broader than this Dom. His legs brushed hers as he refastened the strap across her ribs.
Pulling the leg of her panties away from her hip, he snipped through the fabric with the scissors, then repeated the action on the other side before tucking the scissors back into the velvet bag. Her panties clung to her, stuck to the wet flesh of her pussy. He pressed the fabric into the crevice of her sex with his flingers, then lightly stroked her clit.
“Sir, I’m going to come,” she gasped after only a few moments. She was too wet, too ready—she couldn’t control herself, couldn’t delay the pleasure.
“No.”
He pulled the fabric away, lifting it to his face and inhaling before casting it aside. She was now naked except for her garter and stockings. Lifting the crop, he used the tip to flick each of her nipples, then tap the mound of her sex—both of which were things she loved.
Tingles of pleasure and anticipation rippled through her as he stepped back. She wanted him to do it again, to strike her most sensitive and vulnerable places with the crop. The Dom stripped off his jacket, throwing it aside with none of the care the fine garment deserved. Next went the tie.
He rolled his shoulders and opened the neck of his shirt. “Ready, love?”
The Dom removed the hat, and with a flick of his wrist, sent it spiraling off into the
darkness of the Orion room.
Master Jensen grinned at her.
“Master!” Anna gasped.
Master Jensen prowled forward, planting his hands on either side of her and leaning his face towards hers.
“Who did you think it was?”
“You’re wearing a suit.” He never wore suits.
He wrapped a fist in her hair and growled. “Do you want to rephrase that?”
Anna licked her lips. “I mean, I was surprised that you were wearing a suit, Master.”
“I wanted to surprise you. Did you really think I’d let anyone but me touch you?”
Anna’s lips twitched. “I knew you’d be upset, Master.”
“And did you want another man doing this?” He reached between her legs and tugged on the lips of her sex.
“I’m happy to serve any Dom.” Anna blinked innocently.
“How noble and obedient,” Master Jensen growled.
“The greatest pleasure is to serve.”
“And it doesn’t matter who you serve?”
“Of course not, Master. I serve all equally.” It was the right thing to say, but the words felt off.
Master Jensen’s lips twitched. “Liar.” He slid two fingers deep into her pussy. “You know no one will ever fuck you the way I do.”
It was true, she was a liar. While the possibility of the unknown had aroused her in a way she wasn’t used to, seeing Master Jensen had taken it to a whole new level—he knew her, body and mind, in a way no one else on earth did. Another Dom offered the possibility of pleasure. Master Jensen guaranteed it.
He didn’t look like himself—he was a worn-jeans and bare-skin man. The suit and clean shave, as well as the cologne that masked his natural scent, had been an effective disguise. His dirty blond hair was parted and combed, something she’d never seen before. Now that she knew it was him, she realized the cut of the suit made his broad shoulders look narrower.
