A Divine Life (The Divine Trilogy)

by Hargrave, R. E.

  She’s a strange one, but I like her.

  Crossing over the threshold, Catherine found herself in what appeared to be a massage room. A comfortable-looking padded table with a cushioned head support sat in the center. The far wall housed a perpetual waterfall. Trickling and bubbling, the sound of the water was almost trance-inducing. To her left, another wall was kitted out with cupboards, and behind her, a linen shelf displayed fluffy, gray towels. A picture window overlooking an expanse of gardens filled the remaining wall.

  It seemed she was alone. Unsure what she should be doing, the submissive fell into a standing ready position. Catherine was gambling that anyone she encountered today would be aware of her submissive status, and assuming the position was natural to her. Her chin lowered to the floor while she closed her eyes and let the waterfall sounds pull her into a quiet place.

  XXX

  “Well, look at this pretty little mare standing here,” a deep voice spoke from behind Catherine, startling her.

  How much time had passed was anyone’s guess.

  While she did jump, the movement was restricted to her shoulders. Catherine managed to maintain her position, resisting the urge to look around. Her mouth remained closed, since she’d not been given permission to speak.

  “Such a fine specimen you are, too.”

  Rough-tipped fingers trailed down Catherine’s spine, slipping between her ass cheeks. Both of his hands were on her, spreading her cheeks apart so that she felt the cool air against her hole. The image of an animal being inspected at market appeared in her head.

  “You’ll look amazing with a tail.”

  Catherine clenched on instinct at the words. Tail?

  The man snickered, and his hands moved up from her ass to her hips, continuing up over her ribcage until he was cupping Catherine’s breasts while the ‘inspection’ continued.

  Master said this was okay.

  “Hm. Firm. Terrific size: they fill my hands, but don’t overflow,” murmured the mystery voice. “Lean forward, and place your hands on the edge of the table.”

  Catherine did as she was told, feeling her ass jut out behind her. She fought against the flare of panic that threatened to rise at having a stranger touch her, reminding herself of Master’s final request to trust him.

  Her cheeks were spread apart again, and then a lubed finger pushed into her puckered hole with no warning. It felt nice, and she groaned.

  He pushed in and out of her a couple of times before adding a second finger, which he commenced scissoring with the first, spreading her—opening her. Before long, a third finger was added to the task of stretching her hole, and her breathing had picked up. Catherine gasped when he reached around with his free hand and started stroking the wet folds he found nestled between her thighs.

  “Like that, do you?” he asked, his breath hot against the back of her neck.

  Catherine nodded her head and pushed back against his hand to be met with a loud smack. The sharp sting of his hand on her left cheek surprised her.

  “Don’t be a greedy whore.” His fingers disappeared, leaving her feeling empty and open. “However, it’s clear you’re ready for more.”

  In the next moment, Catherine felt cool metal being inserted into her backside with a slow, firm pressure. When the plug was all the way in and she was satisfied that she was full again, he told her to sway her hips.

  With the first move to the right, Catherine felt something soft and light brushing against the backs of her thighs. When she moved to the left, the sensation swayed with her. Realization set in: the butt plug he’d just put in had a tail attached to it. While she should have felt debased, instead her arousal increased at the sensation.

  Oh geez, he wasn’t joking about the tail . . . he’s turning me into an animal. Well, fuck me.

  I think that’s the idea, Erin.

  The hairs, which tickled her thighs with a light caress, were sending tremors of electricity through her body, forcing her nipples into tight, pebbled nubs.

  “Yes. Very fine, indeed. You make a beautiful filly, Catherine. So tell me,” he asked – and she could swear there was a childlike giddiness in it – “Have you ever felt the bite of a whip?”

  At once, her breath caught in her throat, and Catherine’s body froze, while flashes of the last Demon Night she and Master had attended at Dungeons & Dreams went through her mind.

  A submissive was suspended by her wrists with chains hanging from the ceiling. Likewise, a spreader bar between her ankles forced her legs wide and they were chained to the floor. Her eyes were closed and her head was thrown back in rapture. Red lines crisscrossed her nude body giving the appearance that she was wearing a fish-net bodysuit.

  With a resounding crack, Catherine watched the long tail of braided leather wrap around from behind the sub, the tip landing on the woman’s nipple with a snap.

  The sub shuddered and whispered, “Thank you, Master.”

  It was obvious by her demeanor and the perfect diamond pattern over her skin that the man wielding the whip was in complete control and quite good at what he did.

  Catherine held her breath when the whipping Master came around the dangling woman, raising his arm and preparing to lash her again. The leather snaked out and made contact with the submissive’s naked pussy, and Catherine couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped her lips simultaneous with the bound woman.

  She couldn’t look away from the scene while Master whispered in her ear, “Do you want to be her? Do you want to feel the bite of Sir Jonathan’s whip, slut?”

  Entranced, Catherine had said the one thing she could say: “Aye, Master.”

  The deep voice of Sir Jonathan began explaining how the whip could be, “. . . a pleasure tool in addition to punishment for some submissives if they are pain sluts.”

  Sir Jonathan had approached without Catherine realizing it and now stood in front of her while he finished talking.

  Master chuckled against her ear and commented, “Interesting,” while she dared a brief glance up into the angular face of Sir Jonathan with his cropped blond hair and piercing blue eyes – then Master was nudging her off his lap so that he could stand.

  The grinning face that belonged to the man who’d just stepped in front of her was the same from that night: Sir Jonathan.

  Oh. My. God. Master had arranged a session for her with a whip expert: The whip expert for their local scene. She shuddered and could feel the wetness increase between her thighs.

  “Ah, so you do remember me?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

  “Aye, Sir. This girl does,” she admitted, her tone breathy.

  “Good, good. How about we get started then?”

  “As you wish, Sir. Thank you.”

  Inside, she was trembling. A year ago when she’d signed her contract with Master, whipping had been a hard limit. Master had brought it up a few times with her because of her fondness for pain. Until she’d seen Sir Jonathan in action, she’d been unable to view a whipping as something pleasurable. After that night, Catherine had asked Master to change it from a hard to a soft limit, thus letting him know she was ready to explore it in the playroom.

  “Since this is your first time under the whip, I’ll go easy on you. Don’t want to scare you off when you’ve agreed to try this at long last.” He smirked at her with eyes that sparkled with mischievousness. “But first, I want you to prance that fine ass around the room for me, filly. Stretch your legs a bit, since you’ve been in one place awhile.”

  Walking around the room as instructed, Catherine could feel his appraising eyes on her. The stilettos lifted her backside; the plug deep in her ass was accentuated by the angle and forced a sashay into her step, which in turn made the tail swing. Simply put, Catherine felt like a human horse.

  You’re starting to look like one too, whore.

  Oh, will you please shut up, and let me focus!

  Wondering how she looked, Catherine recalled Master’s admission that she would be recorded today, so she
tried to peek around in a sly manner to spot the cameras. She couldn’t see them and decided it would be best to forget them again. After all, she wasn’t there to perform; she was there to experience and enjoy.

  “Well done, filly,” Sir Jonathan praised when she returned and came to a stop in front of him. “Your Master sent a gift. Open your mouth.” His voice was firm but kind when he gave the instruction, retrieving a chocolate brown, leather bridle, complete with reins, from a side drawer.

  Catherine opened, and he pushed the leather-covered bit between her teeth. When she closed down on it, it didn’t hurt her teeth. Next, he slipped the bridle over Catherine’s head. The reins he left dangling between her breasts while he adjusted the fastenings.

  Okay, NOW you look like a horse . . .

  Oh, just . . . ugh, shut it!

  “Damn, you look . . . hot,” Sir Jonathan exclaimed while flashing a lopsided grin at her. Another dip into the side drawer, and he pulled out a matching brown riding crop. “How about a little warm-up?” he teased and flicked each of her nipples with the crop.

  Catherine hummed at the sensation.

  It was all the encouragement Sir Jonathan needed. Letting the crop thwap against her skin – from her shoulders down her body to her calves – he circled around Catherine. The crop landed in what seemed a random pattern over her flesh. The small sting that came when the flat tip of the crop connected soon spread into a warm glow, a slow burn that was spreading from the outside in.

  Oh, this is going to be good.

  “Let’s see how you’re doing,” he mused several minutes later, while pushing a finger into Catherine’s now very wet core, causing her to grunt. Sir Jonathan laid the crop down and picked up the reins with one hand, leaving her to assume he was satisfied with what he’d found. When he gave her breasts a light flick with the reins, her nipples reacted to the leather.

  Erin, if your nipples get any harder they’re going to pop!

  He tugged on the reins again, guiding Catherine while he instructed her: “On the table on all fours, knees shoulder width apart.”

  Once she was in position, he looped the reins around one of the drawer handles.

  “Don’t go anywhere.” He laughed, and then he patted her rump. “A bit more warm up, and I think we’ll be ready.” Sir Jonathan’s hands were on Catherine’s ass, fiddling with the plug. There was a small clicking sound, and then she was overcome with sensation when it started vibrating.

  “What’s your color, Catherine?” he queried with sincerity after slipping the bit out of her mouth.

  The question, and the way he’d asked it, was the final incentive Catherine needed to let go. There would be no more rambling in her head. By checking with her before going any further, Sir Jonathan had freed her to trust him.

  “Oh—oh, God . . . green, Sir. This girl is definitely green.” She groaned.

  “Does that feel good in your ass, filly?”

  Catherine didn’t answer – couldn’t – because at the same time he was asking, he reached between her legs and pinched her clit. Her whole body shook in response.

  Going back to the drawer, Sir Jonathan extracted a beautiful whip, while she watched with wide, hungry eyes. Catherine found herself biting her lip and wanting to rub her legs together at the sight of it. It was the same rustic, brown leather as the rest of the set.

  He presented the whip handle to her lips for Catherine to kiss in appreciation. Sir Jonathan maneuvered the bit back into her mouth, and then rolled his broad shoulders before taking a step back. “Let’s begin. Come when you are ready, filly.”

  She had time to see his arm rise up in her peripheral vision, and then her world shattered.

  The leather landed across her back, caressing from her right shoulder, diagonal across her spine, and reaching for her left side when the end wrapped around the curve of her hip and snapped just on the edge of Catherine’s pussy lips.

  “Fuck!” she screamed, though it came out muffled, while gushing all over her thighs and the table.

  “That’s it, Catherine. Good girl, let it go.” All playfulness had gone from Sir Jonathan’s voice, replaced by focus and care. She knew she was safe.

  The next lash crossed her back from the opposite direction.

  While Sir Jonathan maneuvered around Catherine, she became lost in the thrill of the experience. The leather bit into her skin just hard enough to make her breath catch, before it was swept away into primal moans, even while the radiating burn dissolved into titillating warmth. She had a vague awareness of his voice coaxing and encouraging her, grounding her to her spot so that she didn’t get washed away on a sea of sensation. Her skin was on fire, and if she’d been asked how she felt at that precise instant, the best she could have verbalized would’ve been ‘a big glob of goo.’

  At some point, Sir Jonathan had put the whip down, unloosed the reins, and had helped Catherine down from the table. She shuffled along while he guided her around the room with a firm grip, helping her stay upright. Catherine realized he must have slipped the stilettos off, for her bare feet dragged along the cool tiles. That was a good thing, because she wouldn’t have been able to balance herself in them at that point.

  “There, there, filly. You took that like a seasoned pro.” His voice was still gentle, like he was talking down a skittish stallion.

  They went back to the table, and he was molding her over the edge of it. Catherine felt the harness being removed, and she worked her jaw, stretching it. A half-focused glance at the bit when he pulled it away revealed it was covered in deep gouges—teeth marks. It was going to need a new leather covering, because she’d worked through the material down to the metal bit during her whipping. The vibration in her ass stopped when he switched off the plug.

  “Deep breath. Now exhale.”

  The plug was gone, and Catherine was thankful for the table, given that it was the only thing holding her up. There was a rustle of clothes, and then she felt his large, warm body against her back.

  “I’m going to collect my payment now,” he whispered in her ear. “Although, the gratification I got from taking your virginity, as it were, with my whip was quite rewarding in itself. That was truly one of the most beautiful acts of submission I’ve ever seen, Catherine; just beautiful. If you ever need a new Dom, I’d be happy to oblige.”

  He licked up her neck to just below her ear, sucked her earlobe into his mouth, and bit down. She sighed into it, feeling his erection grow against her back.

  “I promised your Master that your pussy would stay empty, but that your ass—your delectable, fine example of an ass . . .” his cock slid into her with one thrust, “. . . was mine.”

  She came hard.

  Drizzling warm, scented oil over Catherine’s back and ass, Sir Jonathan started off slow. While he fucked her, he massaged the oil into her tender skin. The heated oil and the steady pressure of his fingers worked into the lash marks, quenching the fire that blazed over her back. His hands kneaded across her shoulders, down her arms, and then came from below her breasts.

  It was incredible.

  While he pushed his cock into Catherine, his hands squeezed from the bottom upward, his gentle fingers closing and pulling on her nipples when he reached the top. Then he would withdraw until just the head of his shaft was still in her tight hole and repeat the process all over again. Sir Jonathan’s tempo in her ass picked up, but so did his manipulation of her breasts.

  In disbelief, Catherine realized she was getting close to coming yet again.

  “Sir, this girl . . . going to . . . come!” she tried to warn him just before her inner walls clamped down on nothing, and her body convulsed. The feeling of his cock swelling inside her was unmistakable. He pulsed deep inside her while she collapsed onto the table.

  The room started to fade. Sir Jonathan pulled out, and Catherine hissed through clenched teeth. The sound of the waterfall grew louder. Her backside was wiped with a gentle, warm cloth. As everything went black, she was aware of his large
, oiled hands working over her muscles.

  The submissive drifted away with Sir’s last whispered words: “Thank you, Catherine. It has been a pleasure. Anyone that has the honor of hearing you call him Master is a lucky man indeed.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  They waited at the curb while Jayden followed Catherine’s retreating backside with his eyes until she disappeared inside the building. God, he hoped he hadn’t made a mistake.

  After Paige gave the all clear by displaying the ‘CLOSED’ sign, Jayden nodded at Micah to go. The twenty-minute drive to Masterson Metalworks passed while he reassured himself that Catherine would be okay today. As her Dom, Jayden knew she was ready to move ahead, but as a red-blooded male who had somehow fallen for that green-eyed goddess, he worried about her being pushed too much.

  In that vein, Jayden had taken advantage of his silent partner status at The Silver Spurs Spa to have the business closed for today and his own ‘staff’ put in place. He’d arranged for the video recordings in part because Jayden knew they were going to be hot as hell to watch, but their primary purpose was so that he could monitor her progress and know she was being taken care of.

  At ten o’clock, Jayden strolled into his luxury corner office, grabbed himself a cup of coffee from the machine, and then set about booting up his laptop. If he knew Catherine, and he was pretty sure he did by now, she would crash after her session with Jonathan. She always did when a scene had been intense. That session would be more than she was used to. Jayden had warned his friend to be prepared for Catherine needing to sleep. He’d also insisted that Jonathan provide her with a full body massage, even when she passed out. It was important aftercare that Catherine would need to make it through the day.

  Jonathan’s video was due to arrive in about an hour and a half, followed by Samantha’s arrival there at the office an hour after that. Jayden had some work to get ahead on, because he was taking a few days off next week as a surprise for Catherine.