by Dakota Trace
She stiffened in anger. How dare he! I was on my way to breakfast when he kidnapped me out of my own driveway!
As if he could read her mind, he continued. “Now this morning, I did whisk you away from your plans, so I won’t punish you for skipping a meal when I was the contributing factor.” He speared a sausage link from the plate and rubbed it across her lips. She bit down on it with a snap. A silent chuckle vibrated against her as he fed her the rest of the link. “But in the future, you need to realize I won’t tolerate skipped meals, slave. If I find you missing meals, I’ll have no other choice than to punish you.” He lifted her face to his. “Do you understand? Your diabetes is nothing to play with. You’re mine, and I take good care of those people I consider mine.”
A rosy heat filled her face as the voices around them quieted. The other Doms and slaves were listening. She quickly ducked her head to hide her face. She’d be surprised if her entire body hadn’t turned red with embarrassment. Not even an hour back into the scene and I’ve already embarrassed Amery. “Yes, Master.” Her whispered reply was barely audible.
“Good. Now have a sip of juice.” He pressed the cup to her lips. After she took a long sip, he lifted it to his own mouth, placing his lips over the exact spot where her mouth had been. A trickle of desire ran down her spine. Now is not the time for my body to start craving his taste, his touch.
A low moan had her eyes jerking away from Amery. If she’d thought her face was red before, she knew it was flaming now. Across the table, one of the slaves, a petite blonde who’d been wearing nothing more than a thong, was bare-assed sitting on the table, with Master Simon’s face buried between her thighs. Evidently the man decided eggs, hash, and Irish soda bread wasn’t what he wanted for breakfast.
A kiss brushed the edge of her ear before a pair of lips nibbled on it. “It seems like Master Simon has the right idea! If I told you to, you’d hop on the table and spread your legs, wouldn’t you Myrna?”
A whimper built in her throat. “Please…I…” She wasn’t sure if she was deeply aroused or truly scared at the idea of the others watching Amery eat her pussy. Perhaps, a bit of both, she mused as a thin trickle of cream escaped her folds.
She jumped when his hand slid up her inner thigh to stop just inches from the crease of where her thigh and pussy met. His mouth traveled down from her ear to the taunt column of her neck. “That’s right, slave, I want you to feel the burn of desire. I want you to see and feel what you’ve missed each time you’ve refused me over the long years.” His voice was low, for her alone, but the other Masters heard clearly.
As if his response had opened the floodgates, the various Masters and slaves paired off. Soon the room was full of soft moans of the women and hoarse grunts from the men. Dominant or submissive didn’t matter - all in attendance were focused on the pleasure of submission and dominance. Her throat dried up and she squirmed, waiting for Amery to make his move. Dear Lord in Heaven, how am I supposed to watch this and not be affected? She shivered in awareness when one of the Masters, the man who’d met her at the door, Liam if she recalled correctly, bent his slave over his knees and proceeded to warm her arse for not sucking him hard enough.
Misreading her shiver, Amery ran a reassuring hand over. “Relax, Myrna, we’re simply going to watch this morning. You won’t be put on display – at least not today.”
Oh, my God. Myrna closed her eyes, not sure if she was anticipating or dreading when he actually did as he promised. But in her innermost heart, she was throbbing with anticipation.
Chapter Eight
Heat – intense need. Twisting against the bonds holding her, Myrna fought to get closer to the tormenting mouth of her Master. Under her back, the cool wood felt like satin to her over-stimulated senses. Her spread thighs were slick with the proof of her need but no matter how she thrashed, her Master refused to touch the most swollen bud on her body. Instead, his hard fingers were toying with the clover leaf clamps attached to her aching nipples. The pressure and erotic sting they provided had her panting. If he kept tugging, she’d come and the bastard knew it. Despite her refusal to voice why she both loved and hated the devilish clamps, he somehow knew they were the key to unlock her dormant sensuality.
“Please, Master.” Even to her own ears she sounded desperate. Inwardly she cringed. She didn’t recognize herself anymore. Where had all of her control gone to? She groaned harshly when Amery’s agile tongue, followed by his teeth, found her clit. A gush of liquid escaping her already soaking wet folds had her tensing. It was all she could do to fight off her need to come against his lashing tongue and torturous fingers tugging on the clamps. Grant had drilled into her head with numerous harsh punishments that she wasn’t allowed to ejaculate when she came. His disgust at her body’s uninhabited response had been largely responsible for her decline in finding her own sexual pleasure.
She gave a whimper which was a cross between a sigh of relief and a moan of frustration as her memories doused her immediate need to come. Even though she was relieved to not open herself to Amery’s sure disgust, she was frustrated that she had to control - to deny her own body. Why can’t I give up total control without risking rejection?
“Come back to me, slave. Forget about what you think you know.”
Her eyes opened. In a daze she realized she wasn’t alone. Around the table were the other founding members of the club. Master Simon was sitting in his chair while his slave slowly rode his thick erection. Master Liam had his blonde submissive bent over and braced against the table near her head. The slapping sounds of flesh on flesh told their own story. Mistress Angelica was reclining on a settee not far away with her legs sprawled apart while Sanders’ face was buried between them. The soft moans escaping the Domme’s throat told Myrna that Sanders was quite proficient with his tongue.
“Ahhh!” The sound ripped from Myrna was sensual pain bordered on pleasure. It coursed through her thighs causing another deluge of wetness to escape her. Her eyes traveled down her belly to see the heated look in Master’s eyes before he released the skin of her inner thigh from his teeth – leaving behind reddened flesh.
“Fuck…yes! Let your sweetness spill all over the table!” With his tongue distended, he lapped at the droplets clinging to her swollen labia.
Her body trembled at the feather light touch of his tongue. She was mere seconds away from begging for the harder, rougher touch she needed. Tugging helplessly at the bonds holding her for his pleasure, she fought with her body. Every wet sucking sound coming from her body warned her if she let him continue she would erupt in ways he wasn’t prepared for.
“Ma...Master…please!” Her broken cry seemed to resonate within Amery. His harsh growl bathed her inner folds as he parted them to slide two calloused fingers within. She jerked before letting out a hiss as her pussy muscles grasped and tugged at the thick intrusion. Oh, God! It’s been years since I’ve had anything other than my own fingers and my slimline vibrator inside me.
“Christ, you’re so wet, slave, I bet I could slide my whole fist inside you.”
She shook her head in denial. “No, no! Please don’t! I can’t…you’ll make me…I’ll…” She tried to form the words to warn him but couldn’t. A squeal was ripped from her when he forced another finger inside of her.
“That’s three, shall we go for four?” The raspy bark had her frantically shaking her head. She couldn’t stand it! Her thighs were trembling, her nipples were hard even aching under the clamps as her pussy was rhythmically squeezing his fingers. Oh God, I’m gonna come…I can’t. It’ll kill me if he turns away in disgust!
“Quit fighting it!” Amery lifted his hand before bringing it sharply down on the side of her breast. The resulting burn had her jerking. It took a force of will to keep her orgasm at bay. Frantically she tried to think of something else – anything to take her mind off the fast approaching climax.
“Myrna, look at me.” The soft plea got through to her when a hard order would’ve slid off her with ease
. She met his glittering eyes even as his buried fingers brushed the rough patch of tissue which made up her G-spot. Gritting her teeth, she tried fight the overwhelming pleasure. “Let go, m’gnogag. Give me my due as your Master. Come for me.”
“I can’t...Master.” Her broken sob had the gentleness fleeing from his expression.
“Unacceptable!” He grabbed the clover leaf clamp and jerked on it.
Myrna barely saw the shocked expression on his face as the pain forced her vision to darken while her world exploded with her violent release. The sound of her climax splattering on the table had her groaning…he now knew her deepest secret.
Jerking awake in the throes of an orgasm was a first for Myrna. Dazed with pleasure and still half asleep, she twisted, writhed, and jerked against the bedding, abrading her already sore nipples against the flannel sheets. A muffled shriek left her as the motion forced her orgasm to continue. She had a vague thought about the bedding which would surely be soaked, but was so lost to her pleasure, she refused to care. It rolled over her in harsh jerking waves, battering her body until she wasn’t sure who or where she was. A long drawn out wail of agonizing ecstasy heralded the end of the torturous pleasure.
When the seemingly endless climax finally subsided, she collapsed against the bedding, her breathing ragged. Oh God, I haven’t come like that in years. Rolling over, she pushed the duvet and sheets away from her body. As she stumbled from the bed, a cool breeze teased her flesh and she shivered. Where’s my nightgown? Standing on still trembling legs, she raked her fingers through her loose hair. Loose hair? She never wore her hair loose while she slept.
At first she was confused, but instantly the memories of the previous day came flooding back. Trying to sneak out of the house before Amery arrived, sitting in his car wrestling with herself, deciding to go into the club. Confronting her need to please Amery and staying for the Founder’s meeting which had turned into an orgy had been difficult but oh-so arousing. Then he’d brought her back home before leaving her with explicit instructions for the night: no nightgown, hair undone, and absolutely no masturbation. She chewed on her lip. “Two out of three ain’t bad.” Surely Amery wouldn’t hold her involuntary climax against her. She had gone to bed, never expecting to have a dream so vivid or hot that she’d break her promise. Giving a heavy sigh, she went to the linen closet. She was going to have to change her bedding before she’d be able to go back to bed.
* * * *
“Did you sleep in the nude with your hair loose, Myrna?” Amery’s breath tickled her ear as he held out the jacket for her. Slipping into it, Myrna savored the scent of him. They were standing in the front hall, next to the coat closet, with the weak morning light just starting to pour through the windows. It was still early – a bit before seven, but considering they had tickets for an eastbound train to Dublin at nine that was to be expected. Outside, she could hear the gentle rumble of Amery’s car in the drive.
She nodded as his fingers pulled her braid out from under her collar.
“And how did it feel?”
Shifting uncomfortably, she tried to think of an appropriate answer.
“This isn’t a test - there are no right or wrong answers.” His voice was gentle as he turned her to face him.
“I…I’m not used to sleeping without clothing, so it was a bit…disturbing.”
He finished buttoning her coat. “Disturbing in a good way?”
She nodded, smiled, then followed him out of the house. Stopping on the stoop, she watched as he checked the locks before offering her his arm. Letting him lead her down the walk to his idling car, his concern touched her. After he tucked her into the car, they were off to the Killarny Station near the center of town.
They spoke of inconsequential things along the way. The weather, if she’d finished her Christmas shopping yet, even their plan of attack when they finally met Mr. Spurnman. Watching the wind blow around the snow, she waited for him to ask her about his third stipulation, but amazingly it never came up. He seemed to have forgotten about telling her not to masturbate. She certainly wasn’t going to willingly admit she had so little control over her body that she climaxed in her sleep. She was lulled into a state of ease.
Once they arrived at the station, Amery parked his car in the short term parking lot. She watched through the slowly falling snow gathering on the window. He went to the rear of the car, and grabbed his briefcase before opening her door. Taking his arm, she allowed him to guide her over the walk and towards the station.
Inside the station, he led her over to the small bistro. The smells of crisp bacon and fresh squeezed juice teased her nostrils. The breakfast Amery had promised had her stomach rumbling. It was as if she hadn’t eaten two slices of leftover Irish soda bread an hour ago. Her stomach was proclaiming bread hadn’t been enough to satisfy her in the face of the delicious smells filling the air.
“Tsk-tsk. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d skipped a meal again.” Amery turned and ordered for both of them. She stuck her tongue out at him. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d eaten a seven course meal. He knew her weakness for this particular food stand.
When he turned back around, she wisely had her tongue inside of her mouth. It wouldn’t do for him to catch her. She graciously took the proffered food from him. Sinking onto a bench, she nibbled at the breakfast sandwich. Savoring the crisp bacon and fluffy eggs inside the flaky crust with just a hint of cheese, she took sips of the orange juice in between bites. Next to her, Amery ate in companionable silence. They were just finishing when the crackle of the public announcement system broke the silence.
“Train to Dublin will be departing from gate three in a half hour!” The perky voice of the woman echoed through the station. Wadding up the wrapper from her sandwich, she tossed it in the nearby trash along with her empty juice cup. She followed Amery towards the platform. Handing the conductor the tickets he’d retrieved from his briefcase, the man led them down the aisle and into the train car where the private rooms were. She raised an eyebrow at him as she passed in front of him and the conductor. Taking off her winter jacket, she hung it on the hook provided.
Once the door slid shut behind Amery, effectively locking out the conductor and the shade had been drawn, he flicked the lock. Butterflies jumped in her stomach. He had the same intense look on his face he’d worn the day of the Founder’s meeting. She glanced at him before lowering her eyes. She wasn’t sure how to respond to him. Is he expecting me to drop to my knees? Long moments seemed to drag by. She finally heard the sharp whistle blow, signaling the train was pulling out of the station. The surge of the train had her rocking on her feet.
“Come here, Myrna.” She started when she realized he’d passed by her and was now sitting on one of the bench seats with his briefcase tucked in the luggage rack under it.
She forced her feet to move towards him, her heart banging in her ears. Can I do this?
“Kneel.” The firm demand had her sinking to her knees. He stopped her midway to tuck a pillow under them before allowing her to finish. She gave him a grateful smile. Her knees weren’t as young as they once had been.
“Thank you.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. She took a deep breath. “Master. Thank you, Master.” Her eyes darted down to the floor.
“You know, we never actually went over any limits yesterday. Before we go any further, we need to establish them. While we’ve been friends for many years, I’m not a mind reader. I have to know what your limits are sexually.”
Gooseflesh prickled all over her body at the thought. While she may have had her fantasies over the years of submitting to Amery, she hadn’t thought they’d ever become a reality.
“As such, I’m going to list various things. I want you to give me a yes or a no answer. Bondage?”
She nodded her head. The thought of being bound across Amery’s bed or even the big walnut desk in his study had her thighs clenching.
“A verbal answer, slave.”
“Yes, Master. This slave likes bondage.”
A low chuckle wafted above her bowed head. “So formal. But it’s good to know since I just love tying up my slaves. It frees my hands for when they start to struggle.” A long pause followed his statement and she shifted a bit. He ran his fingers through her hair, loosening the braid. Is he going to leave it at that? Finally she could stand the silence no more.
“Struggle, Master?”
His fingers tightened in her hair. “I didn’t give you permission to speak, slave.” The censure in his voice had her heart falling. Dammit! I can’t believe I forgot that rule.
“I...can this slave speak, Master?” She caught herself.
“It depends, if you’re going to apologize, no. I understand it’s been years and I can give you some leeway, Myrna. But if you have questions, then feel free to ask.”
She bit the inside of her cheek before answering. “This slave was wondering why your slaves struggle, Master. Is it from pleasure…or pain?”
“A bit of both, slave.” His fingers tugged on her braid before brushing the end of it across her neck. She shivered at the pleasure it brought. Then he gave it a sharp tug. The slight pain radiated down her neck and the crotch of her panties dampened.
“Thank you, Master.” Her response was given on a sigh.
“You’re welcome, slave. Now how about floggers. Do you like floggers or would you rather have the cane?”
“I…Master Grant liked to use the cane when I disobeyed, but he occasionally used the flogger if I was very good.”
His hand returned to a kneading motion in her hair. “That’s not what I asked, slave. I want to know what you like. Not what Grant did.”
“I don’t like the cane, Master. I do like the flogger – a bit too much I’m afraid.” Heat flooded her cheeks.
“Now we’re getting somewhere. So you like some erotic pain but don’t care for extreme pain. Am I right?”
