The Brat and the Master - a BDSM Erotic Novel

by Aishling Morgan

  ‘And ended up at Secret Sinners?’

  ‘I was in the car, on the way to the church, and there was this queue of people, all in the most amazing outfits, all laughing and joking and showing off. I asked the driver to stop and here I am.’

  ‘How did you manage to get in? I mean, you wouldn’t have had any money.’

  ‘There was this guy in a leather coat, called Mark. I got talking to him and he paid for me.’

  ‘A guy in a leather coat, called Mark? Tall, long leather coat, looks like he’s stepped out of a war games magazine or something?’

  ‘That’s sounds like him. He was with two girls. Do you know him?’

  ‘Yes,’ Adam sighed. ‘He is called Mark, but he generally goes by the name of Steelhand. He’s …’ He broke off, irritated, but not wanting to give his true opinion of Steelhand in case it made him seem petty or vindictive. Then he smiled at the thought of how much worse things might have been. ‘Why didn’t you stick with him?’

  ‘He seemed to know everybody,’ explained Jasmine, ‘and he started to make introductions, just like I was some new pet he’d bought. Why does everybody want to control me?’

  The thought of Steelhand being with Jasmine and perhaps even taking her to bed put a hard knot in Adam’s stomach and a sick feeling in his throat –feelings far stronger than he’d have expected.

  ‘So I said I needed the ladies’ and didn’t come back to him,’ she went on. ‘After that, I just wanted to lose myself in the crowd – until I saw you.’

  Adam gave her a squeeze, glad of her capricious nature. Given the timing of things, Steelhand had evidently expected Jasmine to come to their table when she’d finished in the loos, and had presumably been left waiting. This thought gave Adam an almost savage delight, and he laughed out loud as he imagined Steelhand’s growing impatience while all the while the girl he was waiting for was out in the alley being spanked and fucked.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Jasmine asked.

  Reluctant to express his thoughts, Adam didn’t reply but relaxed back against the pillows, reflecting on what had happened and on how different the reality of Jasmine’s life had been to what he’d imagined. He’d always visualised her as a carefree, almost elemental spirit, while all the time she’d been suffering in ways completely outside his experience.

  After a moment she reached down to cup his balls, which she gave a sudden, sharp squeeze. ‘Come on, tell me – what’s so funny?’ she demanded.

  ‘Hey, that hurt!’ he scolded her. ‘I was thinking about Mark, how he’d have been waiting for you while we were out in the alley, that’s all.’

  She squeezed again.

  ‘I said, that hurts!’

  ‘So spank me.’

  ‘I will, when I feel like it, not before.’

  ‘I bet I could make you.’

  ‘Maybe, or perhaps I could tie you up, gag you and leave you until I’m ready.’

  ‘I’d wet the bed.’

  ‘I’d put you in a nappy.’

  ‘Ooh, yes please! And you could change me, and spank me with my legs up and my wet nappy underneath me, and powder me, and cream me! But Adam, I thought you were so manly?’

  ‘Eh? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Well, if you’re going to put me in a nappy, then you obviously have some adults’ ones in the flat. And you live alone, so they could only be for you. Don’t worry, I don’t mind what you’re into, even …’

  She broke off with a squeak as she was hauled across his body. With his hand twisted into her hair to keep her in place, he began to spank her, which set her kicking and writhing across his legs, but even as she gasped and squealed out her pain, she was laughing. Adam just spanked harder, although compared to Caroline’s ample bottom, Jasmine’s felt frail and small, and before long he left off.

  ‘You see?’ she gasped. ‘I told you I could get you to spank me.’

  ‘Yes,’ he admitted, ‘but I’ve learned one or two new tricks for dealing with cheeky little brats since we first met, and if you don’t watch your step, I might just introduce you to them.’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she replied. ‘Do as you like with me.’

  He let go of her hair and she quickly moved back, to lay her head on his lap with her bottom pushed out to show off her flushed pink cheeks. She took his cock in her mouth, sucking gently and teasing his balls with her fingernails, a sensation too good to resist despite his tender skin. Reaching down, he began to stroke her hair, then spoke up once more.

  ‘Do you want to stay with me? You’re more than welcome.’

  Jasmine continued to suck, for long enough to leave him wondering if she didn’t want to have to answer his question, then suddenly pulled back.

  ‘Yes, please,’ she said, her voice now serious. ‘But there’s one thing you have to know, Adam. Nobody owns me. Nobody controls me. I’d love to stay, and the truth is I don’t have anywhere else to go, but if you won’t let me have my freedom, I’m going to leave now.’

  She took him back into her mouth and he continued to stroke her hair, which was as much as he wanted to give in the way of an answer.

  ‘They’re no different from you and me,’ Adam assured Jasmine as they approached the doors to the venue in which the London Fetish Market was being held.

  ‘That’s what I’m worried about!’ she answered, laughing but plainly nervous.

  ‘You went into Secret Sinners,’ he pointed out.

  ‘I didn’t know it was for fetishists,’ she told him. ‘I just saw a lot of people in outrageous costumes who were obviously having a lot of fun – and anyway, they threw me out for being cheeky.’

  ‘Secret Sinners was really just a commercial venture,’ he admitted, ‘but the people we’re going to meet are genuine, and they’re my friends. You’ll see.’

  They reached the door, where Adam paid their entry fee to a girl with a startling pink Mohican haircut and green and black earrings in the shape of snakes. Steps led off to one side, descending into gloom from which rose the scents of leather and incense. Jasmine took Adam’s hand, to his private delight, and allowed herself to be led down into the warren of brick arches and tiny cellar rooms where the market had been set up.

  As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Jasmine slowed and then stopped to stare open-mouthed at the display of multi-coloured jelly dildos on the nearest stall, only to dash forward before the owner could rise from his chair. Her eye had been caught by a stand of corsets, beautifully made and set out in a rainbow, from rich crimson to the deepest purple before moving on to black.

  ‘These are gorgeous!’ she breathed. ‘And just look at the colours!’

  ‘Take your pick,’ Adam offered. ‘I think the blue would suit your hair.’

  ‘It’s like peacock feathers,’ she said, reaching out to touch the corset he’d indicated, as if in disbelief. ‘That is so pretty. Do you really mean I can have it?’

  ‘As long as you promise to wear it for me,’ he answered.

  ‘Men, eh?’ the stallholder said to Jasmine. ‘Always trying to find an excuse to get into your knickers.’

  ‘Jasmine, meet Miss Lace, otherwise known as Arabella, or Lady Elizabeth Garland when she’s doing re-enactment. You’ll find everybody here has at least two names. Hi, Arabella, do you have the peacock blue corset in Jasmine’s size?’

  ‘Let’s see,’ said Arabella. ‘Come in behind, Jasmine.’

  There was no mistaking the interest in Arabella’s voice, nor the meaningful glitter in her eye, but Adam decided against pointing out that Jasmine was new to fetish and presumably to the idea of dominant and predatory lesbians. If anything, the idea of Jasmine being stripped down and touched up by the tall, commanding Arabella was rather appealing, in strong distinction to his feelings for Steelhand giving her the same treatment. He was also very sure that Jasmine could look after herself, as her history seemed to confirm.

  She certainly didn’t seem to be in any immediate need of assistance, to judge by the giggles co
ming from the curtained-off area at the back of Arabella’s stall, and Adam made for the bar, keen to quench his thirst. It had been late morning before they’d finally got out of bed, and gone noon by the time he’d been down to the local Sunday street market to get her some clothes. He’d felt more than a little self-conscious buying girls’ panties and a loose dress, and glad that she was sufficiently petite to leave no doubt at all in the stallholders’ minds that the articles were not for himself. When told of his concerns, Jasmine had found the idea hilarious, leading to another spanking and yet more sex, which had left Adam wondering how much longer he could last.

  He’d been meaning to go to the market in any case, to explain what had happened at Secret Sinners to Elaine, Caroline and others, while incidentally showing Jasmine off. There was also a good chance that Steelhand would be there, which brought him mixed feelings, but he was determined not to allow his choices to be influenced by the other man. None of those he was looking out for were at the bar, but as he took the bottles of ice-cold beer he’d ordered for Jasmine and himself, a familiar voice spoke from behind him. Elaine.

  ‘Adam? What happened to you last night?’

  ‘I got thrown out of the club. For defending a lady’s honour. We went back to my flat.’

  Mark was also there, behind Elaine, with one arm draped casually across Caroline’s shoulders. He spoke up immediately.

  ‘The idea is to ensure that her honour stays intact, not to give her a dose of the same medicine.’

  ‘She’s an old friend,’ Adam told Elaine, ignoring Mark. ‘Here she is now.’

  He couldn’t help but smile as he nodded towards the approaching Jasmine. She was stark naked but for the brilliant blue corset, with her high breasts pushing up from the cups and the blonde down that covered her sex showing beneath its hem. As she came close to them she gave a twirl, showing off her bottom and making her long hair float out around her. Then she kissed Adam.

  ‘This is my friend, Jasmine,’ he said, putting an arm around her shoulder. ‘Jasmine, I’d like you to meet Elaine and Caroline. And Mark I think you’ve already run into.’

  ‘Enchanted nevertheless,’ Mark responded, dipping down to kiss Jasmine’s hand. ‘You did well, Mr Mistoffelees. Have a gold star.’

  He pretended to pin the imaginary star onto Adam’s chest, then turned to attract the attention of the barman, a young man who wore the slightly bemused look Adam had come to associate with outsiders at fetish events. Caroline immediately began to talk to Jasmine, in high excitement over the beautiful blue corset, leaving Adam to Elaine.

  ‘She’s very lovely,’ Elaine remarked, with the interest Adam was coming to think of as inevitable. ‘You say you knew her before?’

  ‘From a long time ago,’ Adam explained. ‘She used to stay near my grandparents’ place down in Devon.’

  Elaine nodded then raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘And exactly what happened last night, may I ask, after you were thrown out of Secret Sinners?’

  ‘More or less what you’d expect,’ he answered, grinning.

  ‘I see. And does she …?’ Elaine left the question unfinished, but her implication was clear.

  ‘That I must leave in your hands,’ Adam answered. ‘She’s a free woman, and a free spirit.’

  ‘They all say that until they meet their master,’ Mark stated as he turned from the bar.

  ‘Or their mistress,’ Elaine countered.

  ‘At least let the poor girl find her feet,’ Adam put in. ‘This is all completely new to her. Now I must go and pay Arabella.’

  He made for the corset stall, at once amused and annoyed by the reception his friends were giving Jasmine. Whether she would prove susceptible to advances from other women he had no idea, but he had no intention of interfering with any explorations of lesbian sex she might wish to make. Steelhand was another matter, irritating both for his native arrogance and assumption of superiority, and because he had a nasty habit of controlling the girls he became intimate with, in a manner that always made Adam think of a TV drama pimp handing out favours.

  ‘I assume she’s going to take it?’ he asked as he reached Arabella’s stall.

  ‘She already has, I think,’ Arabella answered as she accepted Adam’s money. ‘What a poppet! What’s she into?’

  ‘Spanking, mostly,’ Adam told her.

  ‘Girls?’ Arabella asked.

  Adam merely smiled and walked away, towards where Caroline and Jasmine – now back in the clothes she’d arrived in – were admiring a display of whips.

  ‘This is a flogger,’ Caroline was explaining, while the stallholder looked on with a complacent grin, ‘like an old-fashioned cat-o’-nine-tails, but much less harsh, of course. The leather ones can sting, but these suede ones are lovely – heavy and soft at the same time. Show me your bum.’

  Jasmine responded without the slightest hesitation, turning her back to Caroline and sticking her bottom out even as she flipped up her dress.

  ‘Go on then,’ she offered, giggling.

  ‘Not on your panties, silly!’ Caroline responded, and she pulled them down to Jasmine’s knees.

  Adam’s heart gave a little jump as Jasmine’s bottom was laid bare, and the blood had already begun to pump into his cock as he reached the two girls. A lot of other people were watching them too, but Jasmine seemed oblivious, as if showing off her naked bottom to a crowd of eager and self-confessed perverts was a perfectly normal way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

  ‘Caroline’s going to whip me,’ she announced proudly. ‘Let me hold on to you.’

  She took hold of him even as she spoke, nuzzling her face into his chest as Caroline stepped back to give herself a good swing with the flogger. The first stroke came in, hard and accurate, the broad suede thongs smacking down across Jasmine’s bottom. She gave a little gasp, then a happy purr.

  ‘That is nice. Do it again.’

  Caroline needed no more encouragement, cracking the whip down across Jasmine’s bottom for a second time, and a third.

  ‘She’s good,’ somebody remarked from the crowd.

  ‘Yeah, ’cause she’s usually the one getting it,’ another responded. ‘Oh my!’

  Jasmine braced her feet apart, her thighs now as wide as her tight-stretched panties would permit, and also pulled her back in, to show off her rear view in blatant detail as the flogging continued. Most of the visitors to the market were now watching, or trying to watch from behind the others, while Caroline was grinning happily as she smacked the whip down to a slow, steady rhythm. Jasmine began to shiver in Adam’s arms and her grip was growing tighter, before she suddenly bowed lower still, to jerk down his fly and pull out his half-stiff cock, straight into her mouth.

  A buzz of surprise ran through the audience but nobody tried to stop them, Jasmine working her mouth up and down on Adam’s rapidly growing erection as Caroline continued to apply the whip. They had gone well beyond what was usually considered acceptable at the market, but even the barman was now watching in fascination and didn’t seem to mind. The stallholder selling the whips had a prime view of Jasmine’s naked bottom and was plainly enjoying the show, but finally commented, wryly, ‘I hope you’re going to buy that thing, Mephistopheles?’

  His words broke the spell. Jasmine released Adam’s cock, smiling and blushing, while Caroline pulled up the whip. Adam put his erection away with some difficulty before replying, ‘Do you have it in green? No, I’m only joking. We’ll take the red one.’

  ‘How about one of these?’ Jasmine put in, reaching up to finger a long, rubber-tailed flogger with a handle in the shape of a penis. ‘You could whip me and then leave me with the handle stuck up my cunt.’

  The stallholder turned to Caroline. ‘I thought you said she was a newbie!’

  ‘She’s an old friend of Adam’s,’ Caroline explained. ‘Can she have both whips, please, Adam?’

  ‘Why not?’ he answered, once more digging into his pocket for money.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Caroline. An
d don’t I get a kiss for whipping you, Jasmine?’

  Jasmine responded with a quick peck on Caroline’s cheek, only to be gathered in and kissed hard on the lips. For a moment she resisted, only for her mouth to suddenly come wide and, for a second, the two girls were kissing properly, their tongues entwined, before they pulled apart.

  Adam shared a knowing look with the stallholder and received his kiss from Jasmine in turn before he took the whips, then they continued on their way. Jasmine herself then seemed to become quiet and thoughtful, leading Adam to find himself wondering if she’d just shared her first-ever girl-to-girl kiss.

  ‘That was really nice,’ she said after a while. ‘Maybe not as nice as a spanking, but really nice. You know some amazing people, Adam.’

  Adam considered his reply, wondering if he could praise Caroline and Elaine while getting in a subtle warning against Steelhand, only for Jasmine to turn away with yet another squeak of surprise and delight. They’d reached the end of one row of stalls and could see along another to where a moon-faced, red-haired young man was fiddling with a contrivance of leather and brass rods, one of which ended in a large, black dildo.

  ‘What is that?’ Jasmine demanded.

  ‘That,’ Adam explained, ‘is Henry Lomas, more commonly known as Cornfed. He makes things – in this case what looks like a steampunk fucking machine. I’ll introduce you, if you like?’

  As he spoke, the red-haired man pulled on a lever, at which the dildo began to move backwards and forwards with a slow, deliberate motion that seemed to Adam peculiarly obscene. Jasmine giggled and ran forward, with Adam following behind.

  ‘Cornfed, meet Jasmine,’ he said as she reached the machine.

  ‘I want a go,’ she said. ‘I have to have a go! May I have a go, please, Mr Cornfed?’

  ‘What, here?’ Henry Lomas asked. ‘Um …’

  ‘Let her on,’ Adam advised. ‘Cakemix just whipped her and nobody batted an eyelid, not even the bar staff.’