by Jade West
Another nod, the slightest choke.
“And then they can watch me fuck your tight little cunt until you scream. They can watch me love you, Cat... love you with pain... with beautiful fucking pain...”
I twitched in my seat, itching to jill myself fucking crazy regardless of who was around to watch. I forced myself to keep calm, resisting the urge to drag Callum away from this place and beg him for cock. Not yet, I wanted to watch, wanted him to watch this too.
I kept my eyes on Cat, on her pliant body, so fucking wet for him. Masque took the flogger from her neck, giving her a moment to regain her balance.
“Get ready.”
She straightened up, took hold of the chains, muscles tense in anticipation.
He didn’t go easy with the first strike. The tails of the flogger curled around her ribs to bite the soft underside of her breast. She cried out, head lolling back, then prepared for more. The next lash caught her around the thigh, hard enough for her to jerk to the side. She resumed her position without being asked, trained to perfection.
I watched Masque watching Cat, the way his eyes were all over her body, taking in every twitch, every movement, every little gasp from her mouth. He timed his stokes perfectly, stringing her tight on the edge of her tolerance. His punishment became more brutal, increasing with the spike of her endorphins. Slowly she stopped jerking, letting the chains take her weight as she submitted entirely to his will.
He pushed her so fucking hard, and she was so beautiful for it. Eyes big and pretty, her gaze soft and willing. And then tears. They welled up slowly, pooling in the corners of her eyes. She sobbed so softly, spilling her pain in sweet release.
Masque’s demeanour changed, his strikes placed further apart, giving her time to cry between each flash of pain.
“That’s my perfect girl, Cat. My beautiful girl. Tell me what you need.”
My heart leapt in memory of those perfect fucking words.
“I need more pain...” she begged. “Please, Masque, please...”
He closed the gap between them, pulling her face to his for the deepest fucking kiss. He kissed her like he loved her, like there was nobody but them, like she’d given him the biggest gift a person could give.
And then he licked up her tears. Slowly but surely he licked them all up.
A moan escaped my throat and Callum’s fingers responded, dancing ever so slightly closer to the heat between my thighs. I willed him to continue, willed him to touch me, but he stayed put. I looked at him in the shadows, finding his eyes as transfixed by the stage as mine had been.
Masque moved to Cat’s front and I knew what was next.
“Your tits are so beautiful, Cat. They’ll mark so fucking pretty.”
Pink slashes across her skin turned red. Dark red. He was a picture of composure as she cried before him, choosing the perfect moments to unleash the torture. Her eyes never left his, never faltered. The room had disappeared for her, lost in subspace with only that beautiful fucking beast in her thoughts.
The last stroke made her scream, an animal howl as the tails caught her nipples. She croaked for breath as her legs went from under her, body racked with sobs as she cried out in torment. And he was there, at her side. His arms around her, whispers in her ear. I could only imagine what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. The adoration in his expression said it all.
He lifted her to standing, peppering her skin with gentle kisses, and she twisted towards him in her bonds, craving his skin on hers. I knew that feeling, too.
“You may speak,” he said. “Tell me.”
“Love me...” she hissed. “Please, Masque, please love me.”
“Always, Cat. Always.”
My heart fucking keeled over, stopping in my chest as I fell over the precipice of hot fucking need. I could barely fucking swallow, lost to everything but the tingles between my legs, begging for fucking deliverance.
I took Callum’s fingers in mine, shifting in my seat to convey just how fucking desperate I was for contact. How much I fucking needed him to touch me. I lifted my leg, hooking my knee over one of his to spread myself in invitation. I could feel his eyes boring into me, his breath like fucking flames on my cheek. He took the bait, pulled me further into his lap, my throbbing pussy aching as it pressed into his thigh.
And that’s when I felt it. The ridge between his legs. The strain of his excitement.
I flushed with sheer fucking delight.
The savage had a hard on.
Maybe, just maybe, we weren’t so different after all.
***
Callum
My dick was fucking aching, twitching like a motherfucker. My thoughts were fucking smashed too, torn to pieces, unable to work out what the fuck was going on. Or why I found this so fucking exciting.
The man on stage, Masque, was an even more brutal motherfucker than I’d expected. The way he hit the girl in chains, so fucking hardcore I could barely fucking watch. But she loved it. She really fucking loved it.
I’d never seen someone want something as bad as she wanted him. The way she looked at him, like he was God, no... fucking bigger than God. Like the sonofabitch would pummel God’s puny ass into oblivion and not even break a sweat. He was mean, twisted, fucking violent as shit, but she wanted it. And he wanted her. He fucking loved her right back.
I didn’t fucking get any of it. But my dick did.
My dick got it loud and fucking clear.
So, this was the shit that Sophie craved. I could feel it too, she was beside her fucking self. Breath ragged, and desperate, legs twitchy. Fluttery fingers coaxing me without words, aching for me to light the fuse. God, I fucking wanted to. I pressed my face against her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her, her soft hair so fucking nice against my cheek.
My fingers gave in to her demands, teasing a path up her clammy thighs to the heat of her. She bucked against my chest, hissing as I brushed her clit through her thong.
“Please...” she breathed. “I can’t stand it.”
I yanked the scrap of fabric to the side, no longer caring who the fuck saw us. She jerked in my grip as I teased her, fingering her swollen cunt so fucking softly that she squirmed for more. Then I stopped. Stopped fucking dead.
She inhaled and made to grab my hand but I pushed her away. “No,” I growled. “I fucking say when. Me.”
She responded to my words, body turning limp like the woman on stage, flopping back against my chest like a ragdoll. I kept my fingers pressed against her clit, but kept them still, barring her from release.
I was in charge. For real.
It felt fucking good.
The scene on stage was shifting gear. Masque’s hands were softer on his woman’s body, tracing where he’d hurt her like she was a piece of art. She was his canvas, a living, breathing, horny fucking canvas. The tools were his paint, pink, and red and sweet dark purple in living colour. My cock responded to the parallel, pulsing so hard it set stars off behind my eyes.
Sophie Harding could be my canvas.
I could paint her skin with the pain she wanted. Make her cry my name.
Then I could fuck her, and she’d want me. She’d want me so fucking bad.
I watched the woman in chains, fixated on her eyes.
I’d never fucking wanted anything more than I wanted Sophie Harding to look at me that way.
Masque fucked as hard as he hit. He lifted Green Eyes clean off the ground, holding her by her hips as she swayed in the chains. She gasped when he jammed his cock inside her, wrapping her legs behind him to take her own weight. His fingers worked at her clit, and it drove her fucking insane. Rasps and grunts and seedy fucking gurgles spilled from her throat, more animal than human. I’d been right; he was hung like a fucking donkey on steroids. She loved it, too. Begging him for more, harder and harder and fucking harder.
His voice again, so fucking commanding.
“You feel so fucking nice, Cat. Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, I hope everyone can h
ear those perfect fucking slurps you’re making.”
“Yes!” she screamed. “Fuck me, please, Masque, fuck me... fuck me!”
Sophie stared at them, mouth open, no longer begging for my touch. Her breathing was shallow, so shallow. One flick of my thumb could ignite her, I knew it, but I stayed still.
Masque drilled Green Eyes good, his jaw locked dead in concentration, fingers working her ragged. He knew when she was cresting, knew just when to let her fucking fly.
“Come for me.” His words were so simple, but they worked. They worked fucking perfectly.
The girl in the chains didn’t hold back, squealing and jerking as she came. Masque kept his expression deadpan, kept his thrusts steady, playing with her juicy little clit until she was spent. He lowered her to the floor and uncuffed her in a flash, working his donkey dick in his hand while she dropped to her knees, mouth wide and hungry for him.
I heard Sophie gasp again, straining forward for a closer view, and I was too, craving to know what the fuck was about to go down.
Masque looked less composed now, cock all fucking veiny like he could shoot any fucking second. He jammed the whole length down Green Eyes’ throat, so hard she coughed and retched and spluttered all over him. She didn’t pull back, though, didn’t fight.
He fucked her face like a doll, until her eyes were streaming and her throat gurgled soft and wet. Finally, he let fly, burrowing until her neck swelled thick with the length of him, bellowing as he shot his seed down her pretty little throat. Her eyes bulged wide, lungs fighting for breath, hands twitching behind her back as she fought the inevitable, but it was no use.
She sicked up all over his filthy fucking cock, but the dirty bastard didn’t care.
He dropped to his knees beside her and kissed her sicky mouth like his life depended on it.
And I nearly jizzed in my fucking pants.
***
Sophie made to get off my lap but I held her still while I willed my hard on away. The lights were changing again, the room much brighter now the show was over. Raven and her girlfriend untangled themselves from each other.
“Hot in here, or what?” Raven laughed. “I think I need some air after that little performance.”
“Air... nicotine...” the girl at her side said. “Go get what you need. I’ll get myself a drink.”
“Good girl, Cara, good girl.”
Sophie turned her head to me, eyes still glazed as her breathing calmed. “You coming to the bar?”
I couldn’t face it. Not yet. I needed to clear my head.
“Think someone needs a cigarette,” Raven smirked. “Come with me, kid.”
Sophie’s face was questioning but she didn’t argue. She raised herself slowly, and smiled as Raven took me by the arm.
“Won’t be long,” I grunted.
The cold air was welcome. Raven grinned as I jumped from foot to foot, trying to change my headspace.
“Liked it, then?”
“Dunno,” I lied. “Feels fucking weird. And the puking, man. That’s fucking hardcore. Weren’t expecting that.”
She leaned in close, fluttering dark lashes, like she was telling me a secret. “That wasn’t sick, baby, not really. He makes her drink water beforehand. It’s that she brings up. He likes the rush on his cock.”
“Still fucking hardcore.”
“He’s fucking hardcore, baby.” She grinned. “Good though, right?”
I felt the beginnings of a smile on my mouth. “Aye. Yeah.”
She handed me a cigarette. “Masque’s so good because he knows how to push boundaries without ruining the scene. He reads his subs perfectly, knows exactly where they’re at and what they need. Even if they think they don’t need it. Make sense?”
I shrugged. “She looked like she was enjoying herself enough.”
“Want to go there, you think? With Missy?”
Her words smashed into my senses, but with her I didn’t mind, didn’t clam up like usual. “Hope so.” I took a long drag. “Want to, ya know?”
“If you can dom her even half as well as Masque doms Cat, she’ll be putty at your feet, baby. I promise you.”
“I want her to look at me like that. Like Cat looked at him.”
“That’s the rush we all crave, that reverence in someone else’s eyes. Knowing that right then you’re everything... their master, their lover, their fucking God.”
I stared at the woman in front of me. “You’re a dominant then? Same as Masque?”
“I’m a switch, but you’d hardly know it,” she smiled. “Yeah, you could say I’m a dominant.”
“Cool,” I said, lost for any more words.
“Yes it is, baby. Yes it is.”
The balcony door creaked, and once again the bulk of the beast filled the doorway. I stepped aside so he felt free to speak to Raven, but he called me back.
“I’m here to see you,” he said. His voice was back to normal, friendly like.
“Me?” I retraced my steps. “Oh shit, yeah, the tattoos. She’d look good with ink, yeah.”
“Not about the ink, this time,” he smiled and my heart thumped fucking faster. “Did you like the show?”
“Aye.”
“Think it’s for you, this scene?”
I shrugged, tongue-tied, and Raven saved me, placing a hand on Masque’s chest and leaning in close to him.
“It’s for him,” she smiled. “Most definitely.”
I felt my face burning, and toked on my cig, awkward.
“You ever done anything like this before, Callum?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Nah. Not like this. Been rough, like, but not like what you did, in there.”
“Missy is a good girl, she’ll take what you give her.”
“Dunno what I’ll give her, yet,” I admitted, staring out beyond them to the yard below.
“Maybe that’s how I can help,” the beast said. “I have an offer for you.”
***
My nerves were all over the place, but still I fucking followed him. Right through the club I followed him, right over to the bar and right into the flustered gaze of Sophie Harding.
“Callum is coming with me awhile.” Masque had that tone again. The don’t fuck with me tone.
Sophie looked up at him, and her eyes were like Cat’s, full of adoration. “He is?”
“Yes. He is.”
Her eyes darted to me and I didn’t know where to put myself. I looked at the floor until I felt her attention leave me, turning back to the man at my side.
“And me?” Sophie asked. “Can I come?”
“No,” he said simply. I could’ve fucking died. “You’ll stay here, won’t she, Callum?”
I found the words but they felt hollow. “Yeah, stay here.”
She didn’t argue, but her face was white, panicked like. I wanted to say something, tell her it’d be alright, but Masque was already leaving. I shrugged and followed, where to I didn’t fucking know, but I followed anyway. He led me down a packed out corridor. People were watching through windows, jerking off to the sight of hot, naked bodies. I kept my attention ahead, watching only Masque’s muscled back as the onlookers parted for him. He opened a door at the far end, one of the rooms with no windows.
Cat was waiting there. She was standing in the centre of the room, still naked, eyes on the floor with her head bowed. She didn’t acknowledge our presence, made no move at all. My stomach flipped, heart in my fucking throat.
“This is no place for Missy,” Masque said. “She’s your submissive in this place, and a submissive has no business being involved in what’s about to occur here.”
“What’s that?” I said. “What we doing here?”
He smiled, and patted me on the shoulder. “Call this a helping hand. If you want it, that is?”
“A helping hand?”
“I want to show you the ropes. I think it should help.”
“With Cat?!” I asked, eyes wide as fucking saucers.
“This isn�
�t sex, Callum. I’m not that presumptuous, nor that generous.” His mouth twitched into a grin. “BDSM is a complex interplay of dynamics. The way you read your submissive is critical. She needs to feel dominated, but she also needs to feel safe, secure in submitting her will to yours. A dominant’s role may seem all about their own pleasure, but it’s far from it. While you are in play your attention should be entirely on your sub, how she’s reacting, how close she is to her limits. Becoming a skilled master can take years of practice, I just want to help you along the way.”
“Why’s that?” I said, curious. “Why d’you wanna help me?”
“I like Missy,” he said. “She’s a good girl. And I like you, Callum. I see a bit of myself in you. Untamed potential is the fuel for the flame, my friend. I’m just here to help you harness it. Point you in the right direction. Is that acceptable to you?”
I looked at Cat, at the way she was so still. Waiting on his command, listening to every word he said.
“Aye, that’s what I want. I wanna do what you do.”
He clapped his hands. “Excellent. Over the bench, Cat, hands flat.”
The bench in the room was padded, bright red leather on black wood. It looked the fucking part. Cat folded herself onto it without a sound, hands flat to the leather and arse in the fucking air. She shifted her legs apart, no prompting necessary. Masque took position at her side, smoothed his hands over the soft skin of her butt cheeks.
“A submissive’s ass is a fine canvas for pain, Callum. It blooms slowly, eases quickly. Well, sometimes eases quickly,” he smiled. He reached down to Cat’s knees, marking a line with his finger just above the fold. “Here upwards is safe territory.” He stroked his way up her legs, and over her arse, until it dipped down into the curve of her spine. He made another line at the dip of her hips. “Safe until here. The lower back is off limits, unless you know exactly where you’re hitting. It’s too dangerous, you can hit the wrong spot and fuck up someone’s kidneys. Bottom of the ribs is painful but generally safe for whips, and the chest and shoulders make excellent targets for floggers. It goes without saying to be careful of the neck and face, arms too.”
