She nodded, smiling again. “Got it. Right now, I’m green to go.”
“It’s a lovely color on you,” Marc teased, since her corset was green as well. “Speaking of, I’d like to open the corset once you’re attached to the cross so I can have full access to your back, but I’ll lace it up again before I untie you.”
“Okay.”
“Still green?” He held her hand and helped her back into the heels.
“Green, sir. Will you . . . I’m sorry, I hate it when people top from the bottom. Never mind.”
“Tell me what you want. This is our first real experience doing this together, so I’m going to give you some leeway on the not-topping-from-the-bottom rule, at least for now.”
“Will you put the leash on me again, and walk me up to the cross?”
Wow. Those words, coming from her mouth . . . it was like she was his fantasy come to life. “I’d do anything for you, baby.”
She smiled. “Sounds different when you say it like that.”
“Different how?”
“Like you mean it.”
He kissed her gently. “I’ve always meant it.”
He hooked the leash back to her collar, and they slowly made their way to the large, X-shaped Saint Andrew’s Cross.
Lauren felt curiously safe now, after talking with Marc. And she did want to tell everyone what was going on, since it felt like everyone in the club was looking at them in confusion. Time to set the record straight.
At the cross, she turned to the onlookers, a crowd which suddenly seemed much bigger than usual.
To Marc, she asked, “Okay?”
He nodded.
“Ladies and gentlemen and kinksters of all legal ages,” she began, to break the ice and get a chuckle. “You might be wondering where Mistress Lauren went, and who this woman in a collar is. Well. As many of you know, Marc is an incredible Dom, one whom I’ve admired for years. When he won a bet, he won me as his personal submissive for a week.”
The crowd gasped.
“I do not back down from bets. But that’s not the only reason I’m here. I think any good Domme can benefit from learning the other side of the coin, and learning just how important submission can be in a working D/s relationship. I’ve always held the whip, but I’m honored tonight to receive my first flogging ever from a Master, my best friend and a Dom I trust with my life.”
She smiled at Marc, feeling pumped up now, ready for him to take over.
“Are you sure?” he asked softly, and she nodded.
This time, she wasn’t pretending. Not one bit.
He carefully positioned her on the cross, with her corseted breasts pressed against the worn wood. In silence, he took first one of her wrists, and then the other, and used the thick leather straps attached to each length of the top of the X to bind her with her arms up high, spread out.
She felt his breath, warm on her bare leg, as he kneeled and gently removed her stilettos so she’d feel more grounded. At least, that’s why she assumed he did it. It worked. Spreading her legs wide for him, he slowly took each ankle and latched it to the bottom of the X-shaped cross.
Splayed wide, with her back to the club, she felt incredibly vulnerable, and yet safe in Marc’s hands. Every word she’d said was true. She trusted him completely, and he was the best person—the only person—to be the one to flog her for the first time.
His hands rubbed her shoulders, loosening her muscles, giving her a physical reminder to relax, to let the bondage hold her and to submit to his dominance. She breathed in and out deeply, focusing her energy on his hands as he unlaced her corset, eliciting a murmur from the club. They’d never seen her in any state of undress before.
Even though she was a curvy woman, she felt comfortable in her skin, especially with Marc’s appreciative gaze on her.
“You are gorgeous, Lauren,” he whispered in her ear as the corset opened, revealing her back completely. “I’m going to remember this moment for the rest of my life, and cherish it as much as I cherish you.”
“Me too, sir.”
The anticipation fluttered in her stomach. When would he start?
He showed her the long flogger, with many thin strands of suede. “How are we?”
“Green, sir.”
He ran the flogger luxuriously over her skin, pure pleasure with zero pain. It almost tickled, the light touch of the strands of suede as they made their way across her back.
“I’m starting out lightly,” he said.
This is happening. And even though he hadn’t even hit her yet, she found herself wet with desire. But was it Marc she desired, or her first flogging experience as a sub?
It doesn’t matter, she thought, and then the first strike of the flogger landed on her back. She gasped, more from surprise than anything else.
From her years of experience as the one who held the flogger, she knew he was pulling back at the last moment so that only the surface of her skin would be lightly stung, instead of the deep, more muscular blows she knew the flogger was capable of.
He hit her again, covering her entire upper back with light, stinging licks that woke up her nerve endings and had her squirming with arousal. A rush of delicious adrenaline and endorphins flowed through her and she moaned, needing more.
“How are you, baby?” he asked.
“Wonderful,” she said. “Thank you, sir.”
“I’m going to go harder now, you can make noise if you want to, but I’ll need you to say yellow if you need a break.”
“Yes, sir.”
Even though she was trying her best to only think like a sub, the Domme in her knew that while he was reminding her of her responsibility to let him know how she was doing, that ultimately he had to know, had to follow every facial expression and whimper and decide if she’d had enough. Sometimes a sub could slip into subspace, a dreamy, almost out-of-body feeling where the sub couldn’t be accountable for knowing what was too much.
Marc would take good care of her, she knew that. She trusted him, more than she ever realized until this moment. That was saying a lot, considering she’d let him practice flying with her.
The first hard blow lit up her back with pain that quickly melded into erotic pleasure as the endorphins flowed through her. She moaned with excitement, and he hit her again.
“Where are we?” he asked again, checking in.
“Green, sir. I love it.” Huh. She really did. For some reason she thought that she’d have to suffer or endure this experience, and instead all she wanted was to be in his hands all night, letting him do whatever he wanted to her.
“Good, baby, that’s good. Breathe through the pain and relax. I’m here for you.”
The flogger came down across her back, again and again, alternating shoulders, tickling her ribs, and studiously missing her kidneys, since Marc had a careful aim. Each blow hurt like hell and then almost immediately made her feel needy for another. She felt like she was flying now, floating, riding the adrenaline and endorphins . . .
And then he stopped.
“Nooo,” she moaned.
“You did wonderfully,” he said, and kissed her cheek, running his hands over her face, which was wet with tears she hadn’t known she’d shed.
He carefully laced up her corset, and when she was fully covered, unlatched first her arms and then her legs. With a feat of strength that proved his muscles weren’t just for show, he picked her up in his arms and cradled her, carrying her away from the cross and back to their booth.
She pressed her head against his chest, feeling the comforting beat of his heart pounding under his tight black T-shirt as he stroked her hair, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear.
Someone brought her an ice-water with a straw and her heels, which had been left by the cross, and Marc gave her little sips of water, which she drank gratefully.
&
nbsp; “Thank you for doing this for me,” Marc said. “It means so much to me.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” she replied, finally coming back to earth. How much time had passed? Ten minutes? An hour? She couldn’t tell.
“How do you feel?” he asked, concern creasing his handsome brow.
She took his hand in hers, admiring the tattoos running up his arms. “I feel good. Better than I thought.”
“Really?”
“I’m also really fucking horny right now,” she added with a little laugh.
“Tell me about it.” He laughed and hugged her, and she relished the feeling of his arms around her, even as they reignited the fire on her back.
So this was what being Marc’s sub meant.
“I can’t say for sure yet, but . . . I think you’ve convinced me I might be a switch.”
Marc couldn’t contain his smile. The flogging had gone perfectly. He’d been concerned when he saw tears slide down her face, but that was when she said she loved it, so he continued. Sometimes physical sensation and submitting to someone who cares about you can be extremely cathartic, and it was clear that Lauren had a need for that catharsis, whether she’d known it or not.
“Where are Trevor and Elisabeth?” she asked, looking around. “Elisabeth said something about Trevor planning a surprise for her tonight at the club.”
“Oh yeah,” Marc said. “I know exactly what you’re talking about. Let’s go find them.”
“Can I go barefoot? These shoes are redonkulous,” she said, reminding him of the time she put her back out and was on muscle relaxers for three days. She kept making up words. Redonkulous. Snoozle-nap.
“Redonkulously hot. But yeah, sure. As long as I can keep the leash on you I suppose I don’t have to worry about you running away,” he teased.
“After what we just did, you couldn’t chase me away,” she said with a smile. “I can’t wait to see what else you do to me this week.”
Marc grinned, but he wished she’d stop referring to it being only a week, even though that’s all it was meant to be. He wanted to pretend it would last forever.
“The night’s still young,” he replied, and they stepped out of their reclusive booth and back into the club.
There were no more confused looks headed their way from the other WhipperSnapper kinksters. They just got thumbs-up signs and smiles, as if to congratulate the two of them on their public scene. And while it had indeed been public, in the moment, his only focus was on Lauren, as if the whole club had evaporated into thin air, leaving behind just the two of them, the cross, and the flogger.
He meant it when he said it was an experience he’d cherish forever.
Elisabeth was tied to a black leather spanking bench, her flowing white skirt removed, along with the chastity belt Trevor had put her in for the past week. She wore only a white lace thong that left little to the imagination, just a tiny string between her ass cheeks, which were already glowing pink.
Trevor stood at her side, stroking her hair and murmuring encouragement as a man stepped up, shook Trevor’s hand, and then proceeded to give Elisabeth two swift spanks.
“Thank you,” she said, her head hanging down over the other side of the bench. She sounded like she absolutely meant it, even though this had been going on for almost twenty minutes already, and there was a very long line of both men and women, Doms and subs alike, ready for their chance to spank the bride, two swats each.
The spanking would continue until everyone who wanted a turn with her ass had one. Knowing Elisabeth, this was her fantasy come true. Pain she could endure, pain that would go on and on. She was a pure masochist at heart. If it had been up to her, they’d probably all be wielding paddles instead of just hard hands.
Marc and Lauren watched the spectacle, still in a post-scene glow. Lauren looked positively radiant. Marc smiled to himself, proud of her for submitting to him and for actually enjoying it, despite her Domme leanings.
Then he saw Roman, standing in the back, silently observing.
“Let’s go say hi to Roman,” Marc said.
Lauren looked over at Roman and raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know why everyone says he’s such a sadist. Clearly he loves to torture himself the most. Why else would he be watching Elisabeth get spanked?”
Good question.
“Hey man, are you . . . on line?” Marc asked him, his concern coming through in his voice.
“No,” Roman said, barely glancing at them. “Just watching the show.”
“She looks like she’s having fun,” Lauren observed.
Roman nodded. “Elisabeth lives for this stuff. That’s why it’s one of her wedding presents from Trevor.”
“What a beautiful ass she has,” Lauren murmured, watching as a middle-aged woman dressed in latex came up next in line, shook Trevor’s hand, and then carefully spanked Elisabeth twice.
“Thank you,” Elisabeth said, and the next guy came up.
“I bet you’re dying to get your turn, aren’t you,” Marc said to Lauren.
“Are you going to let her play the Domme tonight for Elisabeth?” Roman asked Marc.
There was no right answer. If Marc said yes, he’d win points with Lauren for letting her indulge herself. If he said no, he’d further prove his dominance over her.
Marc looked at Lauren, who seemed to be trying not to plead with him with her eyes. But everything about her made it clear—there was a bare ass that needed spanking, and she wanted to do it. It was part of her nature. Still, the very fact that she had to request permission from Marc also proved his dominance.
Marc shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt, as long as she remembers who she belongs to at the end of the night.”
“There’s no way I’ll forget,” Lauren said. “Pretty please, with a spanking on top?”
He laughed. “Does this mean I get to spank you?”
“Normally I’d say not on your life, but this week my ass is your ass . . . so yeah. Yes you do.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes. “Pretty, pretty please?”
“Okay, get in line. Tell Trevor you have my permission, and tell Elisabeth that one spank is on my behalf and the other is from you, with love.” Marc unclipped her leash and Lauren nearly squealed with excitement.
“Yay!” She immediately jumped into line behind about twenty other people.
Marc stayed back with Roman, grateful for the company.
“So,” Roman said. “Our new acquisition in Japan is struggling.”
“Are we really talking work?” Marc asked. “Now, on our best friend’s wedding night?”
“Yeah, we’re talking work. You don’t get the emails I get from them.”
“Well, that’s not my fault. You’re the only one who speaks fluent Japanese. The only one who understands their culture. If I chimed in I’d end up accidentally bringing shame on us or something,” Marc joked.
“Actually, you would. Same with Trevor. So I’m going to leave town tomorrow and head over to Tokyo to help get some things in order before we lose a multi-million-dollar investment due to poor management.”
Marc nodded. It would be a good idea for Roman to get out of the country, to get some space from Elisabeth so he could get over her. “Somehow I don’t think this is just about the investment.”
“The Brooks Wilde Chase fund is responsible for a lot of people’s money,” Roman argued. “You can’t just pretend everything’s fine just because this investment is on the other side of the world.”
“You’re right man, sorry.” Marc hoped Roman couldn’t tell it was a pity apology, that he knew Roman’s true motive for getting away—far away—was not just about money. Roman needed space from Elisabeth, both mental and physical. He needed to find some hot Japanese chicks who loved to be tied up to get his mind back in the game.
“Should I use the corporate jet,
or are Trevor and Elisabeth using it to go to his island?” Roman asked. “I don’t care either way.”
“They were planning on flying commercially to Hawaii and then hiring a private plane to take them to Trevor’s—I mean, their—island. So you can use the jet, just keep all the expense receipts for me.”
“Obviously,” Roman muttered.
“Actually, man, would you mind taking a commercial flight? There are some awesome first-class flights from JFK to Tokyo if you get one that has those seats that lie flat,” Marc said. “Pretty decent for a red-eye, especially if you pop a sleeping pill on the way there.”
“Why? Going somewhere?” Roman asked.
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
“That’s fine,” Roman said. “You can hold on to the jet.”
“You’ll have fun in Tokyo,” Marc said. “It’ll give you a chance to mix business with pleasure.” He grinned. “Just don’t expect me to write off any escorts as a business expense.”
“Fuck you,” Roman said, and laughed. He looked like he was feeling better already.
It was Lauren’s turn to spank Elisabeth. They couldn’t hear her over the music, but it was clear she was following Marc’s orders by telling Trevor, in a rather submissive pose, that she had Marc’s permission.
But when she spoke to Elisabeth, a light shone in her eyes, and despite the collar on her neck and the red marks on her back from the flogging that were visible when she ran her hands through her long red hair, she turned into a Dominatrix before their very eyes.
“This spank is on behalf of Marc,” she announced, and first gently rubbed Elisabeth’s ass before bringing her hand down hard, eliciting a yelp from Elisabeth.
“Thank you, Marc,” Elisabeth said, and Marc gave Trevor the thumbs-up and a wink.
“But this, my darling, is from me, with love.” Lauren snapped the thong suggestively, and then spanked Elisabeth’s pink ass so hard Elisabeth moaned with obvious desire.
“Thank you, Lauren, fuck yeah,” Elisabeth said, her legs trembling from the blow.
Lauren blew on her hand as if to cool it off and smiled to the man behind her in line as if to say, Beat that, motherfucker.
Enamored Page 9
