The Brat and the Master - a BDSM Erotic Novel

by Aishling Morgan

  On the far side of the floor a tall, dark-haired woman was talking with friends as she rested her feet on the back of a girl dressed as a maid, but she seemed too brassy and too bony, very different from Elaine’s svelte elegance. Another, in a magnificent Victorian-style dress of brocaded green silk, had something of Elaine’s figure and poise, but what little of her skin showed suggested the Mediterranean, or even India.

  Somewhat dissatisfied, Adam turned back to the bar, telling himself he would have another drink, enjoy the view for a while and then leave. The club had begun to fill up, and he found himself obliged to squeeze in between a massively built man in worn leathers and a woman in a catsuit of brilliant red rubber that not only clung to every contour of her body but covered her from head to toe, save for the lower part of her face and a tall ponytail of glossy brown hair sticking up from the top of her head. Hazel-green eyes showed through artfully cut openings in the headpiece of the garment and she was drinking through a straw.

  Another girl knelt at her feet, blonde, soft and curvaceous, her full breasts barely constrained within a half-unbuttoned white blouse and her plump bottom, in white panties, bulging out from beneath the hem of a red tartan school skirt. Adam excused himself to the girl in rubber and had just managed to get an elbow onto the bar when she raised a finger to catch the attention of one of the men serving.

  ‘The gentleman will have red wine, if you have anything worth drinking, otherwise cognac.’

  ‘I …’ Adam began, then broke off at the implication of what she’d said. ‘Elaine?’

  ‘Hush,’ she replied, placing one rubber-encased finger to her lips. ‘No names.’

  ‘I understand. What shall I call you?’

  ‘Cakemix here calls me Lady Sappho, although you might prefer to drop the Lady.’

  Elaine reached down to tousle her friend’s hair as she spoke. Cakemix turned her face up and Adam found himself looking into large, melting blue eyes and a pretty face, its features barely concealed by a mask that was little more than a strip of lace. He nodded politely as Elaine continued.

  ‘Cakemix, meet … meet …?’

  ‘I’m content with Adam,’ he said. ‘Or perhaps Black Rose, if it’s important for the Masque?’

  ‘You’re fortunate in not having to dissemble,’ she said, abruptly serious, ‘but I’d still advise you to be careful. Don’t choose Black Rose, as your real name will be on the first page of any search engine results.’

  ‘The White Knight?’ Adam suggested.

  Cakemix giggled and was rewarded with a gentle cuff to the side of her head.

  ‘A White Knight,’ Elaine explained, ‘is the internet term for a man who’s always trying to come to the rescue of women online, generally when he’s not welcome. It’s not a flattering term.’

  ‘Oh,’ Adam answered, wondering if Jasmine had meant it that way.

  ‘Mr Mistoffelees,’ Cakemix suggested, ‘because he’s all in black and I’m sure the sort of mice he’s hunting for don’t have tails – or not the long, wiggly sort, anyway.’

  ‘Don’t be impertinent,’ Elaine said and gave her friend another gentle cuff before turning to Adam once more. ‘Still, Mephistopheles suits you, although it’s a little long. Perhaps just The Devil? A lot of people regard what you do as a black art.’

  ‘What I did,’ Adam answered her. ‘Remember, I’m not allowed to have anything to do with bioengineering for ten years.’

  ‘I did try to make them drop that clause,’ Elaine answered, ‘but they were adamant. But let’s not talk shop. Let’s try this wine.’

  The barman had been hovering respectfully with a half-full bottle of St Emilion, and at a nod from Elaine poured out two glasses. Adam took his, admiring the deep-red liquid against the light and swirling it in his glass before taking a cautious sniff.

  ‘Monsieur is a connoisseur,’ Cakemix remarked in open mockery.

  ‘Ignore her,’ Elaine told Adam. ‘She’s just bratting. What do you think?’

  ‘Not bad,’ Adam replied, ‘and certainly approachable, as you’d expect for an ’09.’

  ‘As you’d expect for an ’09,’ Cakemix echoed, mimicking Adam’s voice.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Elaine said. ‘Get up, Cakemix.’

  Cakemix stood, suddenly bright-eyed and nervous.

  ‘Panties off,’ Elaine ordered.

  Adam watched, embarrassed and delighted at the same time as Cakemix struggled her panties off under her school skirt and stepped out of them. Elaine took the scrap of white cotton and bundled it into her hand before speaking again.

  ‘Open your mouth.’

  Again her girlfriend obeyed promptly, although not without a look of consternation, which intensified as her panties were bundled into her mouth.

  ‘That should shut her up,’ Elaine remarked to Adam before turning to speak to the now grinning barman.

  Cakemix once more adopted a kneeling position, now with her bare bottom peeping out from beneath the hem of her inadequate skirt. Her face looked somewhat forlorn, with a scrap of panty material hanging out from between slightly parted lips. Adam could feel his cock starting to stiffen, but Elaine seemed no more than mildly amused by what she’d done to her girlfriend.

  ‘What do you mean by “bratting”?’ he asked, eager to keep the focus of conversation on the humiliated girl.

  ‘Behaving like a brat,’ Elaine explained, ‘generally in order to get punished.’

  ‘Ah, right,’ said Adam, again thinking of Jasmine, whose peculiar behaviour suddenly made a great deal more sense. ‘Do a lot of girls behave like that?’

  ‘Only the bad ones,’ Elaine answered. ‘Do you want to beat her?’

  Adam swallowed his wine the wrong way and took a moment to recover himself before he could reply.

  ‘Yes, if that’s all right? I thought you two …’

  He trailed off, embarrassed, as he tried to think of what he could say without giving offence.

  ‘That we were lesbians?’ Elaine answered for him. ‘Yes and no. I … I’m complicated, let’s leave it at that. Cakemix is a slut, and she certainly likes boys, but I don’t usually let her have them. They tend to get rather too rude with her, you see.’

  ‘I can appreciate the temptation,’ Adam replied, now struggling to retain his composure at the thought of being allowed to punish the pretty blonde at his feet. ‘Should I spank her?’

  ‘If you’re feeling generous,’ Elaine answered. ‘What she really needs is six of the best, without a warm-up. Come on, Cakemix – heel.’

  She stood up and walked briskly across the room. Adam stayed by her side, feeling somewhat lost but determined to give of his best. Cakemix followed, her head briefly hung in submission before she looked up in order to negotiate the crowded balcony. There were even people on the stairs, and the room to which Elaine led them was packed, increasing Adam’s nervousness at the thought of giving a punishment in public. It wasn’t immediately obvious what he could do either, because while there were several pieces of furniture plainly designed to aid in chastisement, all of them were occupied. A single, plain chair remained unused, making him think of the way The Gardener had disciplined Jasmine so many years before. Keen to assert his control, he took Cakemix by the ear.

  ‘Right, you – over my knee.’

  She gave a muffled squeak as he caught hold of her but didn’t resist, allowing herself to be led across the room and pulled across Adam’s lap as he sat down. His heart was hammering and he could feel the blood pumping to his cock as her softness settled against him, but he did his best to remain poised and authoritative, quickly turning up her skirt to expose the full spread of her bare bottom to the room. Nearly all of the other people being punished were male, and Adam was already attracting interest, although his audience kept a respectful distance, with only Elaine close by, standing at his shoulder.

  ‘How does that feel, then, Cakemix?’ she said, taunting her girlfriend. ‘Over a man’s knee, again. They always like to spank you, don’
t they? Although with a bottom like yours, I suppose it’s hardly surprising.’ Then to Adam, ‘Have a feel, if you like – she’s all yours.’

  Adam needed no further persuasion. Immediately, he allowed his hand to stray to Cakemix’s full, fleshy bottom. She was far bigger than Jasmine, and Elaine for that matter, each cheek a ball of plump, resilient flesh with a texture that put the final touches to Adam’s erection. Cakemix took it placidly at first, then, as Adam allowed his fingers to stray into the slit of her bottom, she suddenly pulled her panties from her mouth and turned her head up to her mistress.

  ‘He’s getting dirty over me, Lady Sappho,’ she complained, ‘and he’s hard. I can feel it – a dirty great big cock, pressed right into me.’

  ‘It will be right in you in a minute if you don’t shut up,’ Elaine answered and reached down to cram the now soggy panties back into her girlfriend’s mouth. ‘I’m really sorry about this. She’s not normally such a brat, but she thinks she can get away with it because you’re not really experienced.’

  ‘She’s not the first girl I’ve had over my lap,’ Adam replied. Then he began to spank her, gently at first, then harder.

  Cakemix barely reacted, even with her bottom bouncing under smacks every bit as hard as Adam had used to discipline Jasmine. He was forced to redouble his efforts, using the full weight of his arm to land the blows across her bottom, and aiming for where her meaty cheeks pushed out to either side of her cunt and anus. Still she lay passive, unresisting but apparently oblivious both to the smacks being applied to her behind and to her exposure in front of an audience of some 20 men and women.

  ‘Smack her thighs,’ somebody suggested. ‘They hate that.’

  Adam took the advice, switching his target to the gently rounded flesh of the girl’s legs, only to be rewarded with no more than a slight jerk, quickly stilled. A few more hard smacks to each thigh saw the backs of them take on the same rich pink hue as her bottom, but still she didn’t seem to care. Adam cocked his knee up, to lift her hips and cause her cheeks to open, to give a full show of the deeply puckered corona of her anus and the mouth of her cunt. Cakemix gave an exaggerated yawn and somebody in the crowd laughed.

  A man stepped forward, tall, with close-cropped blond hair, dressed all in black leather, his longcoat open at one side to show off a riding whip hung from his belt. His expression was amused and faintly supercilious, which served to fuel Adam’s rising irritation, and he put more effort still into the spanking, but with no noticeable effect.

  ‘Your hand will be as sore as her bottom,’ the man remarked. ‘Let me show you how it’s done – if I may, Lady Sappho?’

  Adam had been about to refuse when Elaine gave a courteous nod to the newcomer, who spoke again.

  ‘Hold her around the waist, tightly. This is me, Cakemix, but you already knew that, didn’t you?’

  Cakemix responded with a muted whimper and twisted around to turn her now frightened face to the tall man as he unclipped the riding whip from his belt. Feeling somewhat out of his depth, Adam took her firmly around her middle and leaned back slightly, offering her bottom as a target. The man nodded and flexed his whip, then stepped back a little to lay it across the crest of her cheeks. She began to shake, quite badly, and was making odd little mewling noises through her mouthful of panty material, but she made no effort to get up.

  ‘She knows her master,’ the man remarked. ‘Don’t you, Cakemix?’

  She gave an urgent nod and he went on.

  ‘Six hard strokes, Cakemix, for being a brat to this young gentleman.’

  He lifted the whip as he spoke and brought it back down across her bottom hard and fast, smacking into her flesh to make her jerk and gulp on the panties in her mouth. It left her with a long, pale line across her cheeks, which quickly turned red, while her shaking grew more violent still. Adam kept his grip, not knowing what else to do. Cakemix was obviously hurt and in distress, but she still made no effort to escape her fate, while Elaine was watching the beating with a cool smile.

  ‘Who’s your master?’ the man asked, and before Cakemix could answer him, he brought the whip down again in a short, vicious arc that once again ended across her bottom. ‘Tell me, Cakemix, who is your master?’

  At first, she didn’t seem in any state to answer, sobbing and gulping in her pain, but then she quickly pulled her panties from her mouth in order to speak, her voice now rich with emotion.

  ‘You are, sir. Master Steelhand.’

  ‘That’s right,’ he replied, tapping the whip across her bottom once more. ‘I am, aren’t I? And has any other man truly mastered you?’

  ‘No,’ she answered promptly, then cried out as the whip lashed down across her bottom for a third time.

  Steelhand gave a soft, amused chuckle and with a single, deft motion he reversed the whip in his fingers, offering the handle to Adam.

  ‘Have a try. Lay it across her bottom first, with the sting three-quarters of the way across her far cheek. Yes, like that, and don’t be scared to put a little force into it. Cakemix is used to punishment, and she deserves everything she gets – don’t you, Cakemix?’

  ‘Yes, Master Steelhand,’ Cakemix answered.

  Adam measured the whip up across her cheeks, lifted it and brought it down with a firm smack. To his relief, Cakemix responded with a gasp of pain and a sudden kick of her legs, while the stroke left a satisfyingly colourful welt across her buttocks, a little lower than the others but perfectly parallel.

  ‘Not bad at all,’ Steelhand remarked, ‘for a beginner. Make the next a little lower and then we’ll send her home with a five-bar gate. That should teach her to mind her manners.’

  It was clear what Steelhand meant, and Adam took careful aim before bringing the whip down once more across the girl’s cheeks, lower still, to lay a fresh, scarlet welt across the very plumpest part of her bottom. She screamed as the whip bit home, and for one deeply satisfying moment, she was drumming her feet on the floor in anguished reaction. Adam had long known he was a sadist, but he had never experienced such relish for a girl’s pain, nor the satisfaction of showing off for an audience.

  ‘I’ll do the last,’ he stated as Steelhand reached out for the whip. ‘Across the others, like a field gate, yes?’

  ‘That’s the idea,’ Steelhand agreed.

  Adam took careful aim, adjusting Cakemix on his lap and settling the whip across the softness of her cheeks before applying a last, firm stroke. She kicked and squealed as the whip struck home, but quickly pushed up her bottom to show off the neat pattern of weals the two men had laid on her flesh. Steelhand reached out, rubbing at her skin to bring the last of the marks up a little more, then gave a complacent nod.

  ‘Not bad. Not bad at all. Do you know what a mentor is, young man?’

  ‘I do,’ Adam answered, ‘but I don’t feel I’m in need of one.’

  ‘Every new dominant needs a mentor,’ Steelhand said, ‘and it’s not every new dominant I offer to teach. But still, if you prefer not, no doubt Lady Sappho can make something of you. You may get up, girl.’

  Adam had already relaxed his grip and Cakemix lifted herself from his lap. She was still shaking badly and her face and chest were flushed pink, but she immediately got down on her knees, first to kiss Steelhand’s boots and then Adam’s shoes, before snuggling up to Elaine. Adam got up, painfully aware of his erection but not sure what he could do about it, nor if Elaine’s offer to let him fuck Cakemix had been genuine or simply part of their mutual teasing. He had to ask.

  ‘You suggested that …’ he addressed Elaine, finishing with a vague gesture of his hand towards her girlfriend, whose bare, whip-scoured bottom was thrust out directly towards him.

  Elaine responded with a glance at his crotch, and then the faintest of smiles, before reaching down to tilt the girl’s chin up with a single, crooked finger.

  ‘It seems that The Devil wants his satisfaction,’ she said. ‘Shall I make you give it to him? It would be kind, wouldn’t it, if only to s
ay thank you for the nice spanking he gave you, and the whip, but then you’d have to thank Steelhand too, wouldn’t you? We mustn’t play favourites, after all. I’m not convinced you’ve been punished properly either, so perhaps I should make you suck them both off while everybody watches? Or maybe they’d prefer to tie you over a whipping bench and spit- roast you like the fat little piggy you are? No? Ah, poor baby – don’t you want the nasty boys to use you at both ends?’

  Cakemix gave an urgent shake of her head and for a moment, Adam thought he was to be denied his pleasure – only for Elaine to carry on speaking.

  ‘No spit-roasting, then, but I do think it would be fair to let them have their fun, don’t you? You know what men are like, after all. Never happy unless their cocks get a bit of exercise. OK, boys, you can take her into the back, but one of you has to stand guard while the other does his business.’

  ‘Aren’t you coming to watch?’ Cakemix asked, looking up with pleading eyes.

  ‘Oh, I suppose so, if I must,’ Elaine answered. ‘Come on then, boys – pussy time!’

  ‘I’ll show you how it works,’ Steelhand told Adam, grabbing Cakemix by her hair.

  She squealed as she was hauled to her feet and had no choice but to follow him, bent almost double as he strode across the room. Eager to play his part, Adam offered his arm to Elaine, who accepted, allowing him to escort her through a door at the far end of the dungeon room. They found themselves in a space both gloomy and hot, its dim red light barely illuminating the figures of men and women, together or single, having sex or watching others. Steelhand soon had Cakemix installed on a bench at the far end of the room, and lost no time in pulling out his cock and feeding it into her mouth.