“Should we show how we enjoy punishing a disobedient girl?” Giada asked. “Would you like to feel the tip of my crop spank this naughty hole?”
“No! Oh, my God, no!! I got fucked in the ass. Blake took me in the ass this afternoon and I am still sore,” Dahlia rapidly confessed as she cringed against the tapping of the leather tip along her delicate flesh.
“Did you like it?” Giada demanded, flicking the crop against its target. “Tell me how much you liked the master fucking you like that.”
“Ow!!!” Dahlia cried out as the crop snapped her again. “It felt good. He shoved his big, fat cock into my ass and fucked me like I was nothing more than his toy! He made me come and soaked inside my ass with his juice. And I loved every bit!”
“I think she likes being impaled,” Ginger said, sticking a lubricated finger into the offended entrance.
“She does, but not as much as she likes this,” Giada said as she aimed her oiled leather paddle and struck Dahlia’s left cheek. The sizzling sound of the wet leather striking flesh caused the onlookers to murmur, while the recipient merely lifted her head with an ‘oh!’ The paddle struck again on the other side, this time not lifting from the pinkened skin. The implement was rubbed back and forth, massaging the oil into Dahlia’s flesh.
Dahlia fisted her hands as an odd feeling of burning cold touched the place where the paddle had landed. Peppermint oil! The bitch was using peppermint oil! Before she could protest, another smack, then two, added warmth to the stinging spots.
“I think you are being too gentle,” Ginger commented, lifting a two-fingered tawse from the rack. “See how wet she is getting? We can’t allow that to happen so quickly, can we?”
Dahlia held her breath as Ginger stroked her bottom and thighs with the length of the tawse. She sensed it being pulled back and anticipated the lash as it swiped her right upper thigh at an angle that caused the implement to strike her pussy as well. Dahlia jumped, unprepared and unable to close her legs to protect her delicate privates.
“Not my pussy!” she cried out.
Ginger ran her hand across the open slit and then spanked it with her palm. “Did you know she has never had this sweet little pussy spanked? She is protesting, but look how creamy she is. Cry out, Dahlia. Let all these people hear how much you enjoy this.”
“Let’s add a little something first,” Giada suggested. “I think these might be fun.”
Dahlia yelped as her nipples were gently pulled and then kneaded with vigor. A sharp pinch caused her to whimper as a clip was secured firmly over the first nipple, followed by a repeat on the other side. The lash of the tawse momentarily distracted her from the nipple play and Dahlia called out something nonsensical. This was her fantasy come to life.
Something weighted was hung from the clips, forcing her to keep her back arched with her breasts pushed forward. Ginger’s tawse burned a third time, going across the center of her bottom without touching her straining womanhood. Dahlia’s head spun, unable to anticipate whether her weighted nipples would be flicked or if she would receive another dose of the tawse. There was no pattern to this delicious torture as the two women tantalized her with pain. Ginger had replaced the tawse with a razor strop as Giada added more weight to Dahlia’s throbbing breasts.
“Beautiful tool, isn’t it?” Ginger was saying as she snapped it near Dahlia’s ear, making her startle. “I haven’t seen one of this quality for years. I bet it will feel fabulous across that nice, red bottom. But that poor little hole still seems so lonely…”
“We can rectify that,” Giada said. “Have you ever seen one of these? It is a vented butt plug. It can stay in all day with such a wide base and this nice, thin neck.”
“Noooooo,” Dahlia begged in earnest. “My bottom can’t take a plug right now.”
“Sure it can. There has only been a little stretching, nothing else. Plus,” Giada announced, massaging lubricant into Dahlia’s aching hole, “having a plug in your ass keeps you very humble and cooperative, doesn’t it, dear?”
Dahlia nodded, relaxing as she realized Giada had applied some numbing ointment for her comfort. She still squealed as the plug was pressed against her, and genuinely yelled out as the wide bulb was forced inside. She breathed with relief as the discomfort quickly settled and left her only with a satisfying sensation of fullness.
The bench legs were cranked closed, protecting Dahlia’s exposed pussy from the upcoming strapping. She squirmed as her body tingled, wanting anything that could be offered her. The heavy strap caressed her back, legs, and bottom, touching her exposed skin like a lover preparing for an intimate embrace. Dahlia trembled in response. She did not want sweet caresses, though. She wanted mind-boggling, searing hot pain.
The first fall of the strap was anticlimactic, a mere breezy kiss as it tasted her flesh. Dahlia wiggled, demanding more. And more was given…
Ginger let the full length of the strap fly, positioning herself so that it struck the left side of Dahlia’s bottom and wrapped clear around to the right, leaving a clean, red mark. Dahlia shrieked, lifting her head, and was instantly reminded of the weights bearing down on her breasts.
“Ow! Not so hard!” she yelled.
“Oh, baby, that was not hard. Trust me,” Giada cooed, swishing a cane. “You will know hard in a moment.”
“Oh, my God…” Dahlia felt tears form, but could not decide it they were born of fear or excitement.
Ginger’s strap blazed across Dahlia’s bottom again, followed by the deep bite of the cane as Giada stood on the other side. She had used a backhand technique and wrapped the flexible cane directly over Ginger’s strap mark, and the feeling of burning, biting, stinging, and warmth lit over Dahlia’s body.
Strap… cane… breasts… ass filled… the women orchestrated the delivery of pain as though it were a symphony of sensation, rhythmically playing Dahlia’s body as the young woman grew dizzy under the hypnotic spell. Everything felt distant and detached as the pain shifted to absolute joy. Absolute joy shifted to pure ecstasy and Dahlia erupted with an orgasm that rocked her full body.
Only her sobs were heard from the stage; the hall filled with awed silence. Giada released the girl from the bench and held her tightly in her arms while Ginger stroked her naked back and hair. As predicted, the exhausted young woman fell asleep in their arms.
Chapter Seven
Blake escorted his guests to the large sitting room and ordered the slaves to bring refreshments. He sat back on his favorite chair and smiled at the ten men and two women.
“Well? Was I right?”
“I have never seen anyone so receptive to pain before. Amazing,” one of the women said.
“I agree. I could see the second she accepted it and began to drift. I have been hearing about this subspace concept for a while, but doubted it until now,” another man commented.
“Subspace is a very real phenomenon. It is both physiological and psychological, and occurs when both the body and the mind come to acceptance of what one would ordinarily consider an unpleasant encounter. Add to the equation that this girl has a strong masochistic drive… fascinating.”
“And you are?” the woman asked.
“I beg your pardon,” Blake interrupted. “Please forgive me. This is Emmanuel Hodges. Manny is director of the UTSA Department of Psychology. He is on a research grant that will hopefully prove the benefit of the BDSM lifestyle in lieu of self-destructive behavior patterns for certain individuals.”
“Hmmm, fascinating indeed!” Humberto exclaimed. “That is a very interesting alternative to drugs or locking these poor people in rehab. I am intrigued by the concept.”
“Manny, this is Dr. Humberto Alonso, the ob-gyn I told you about. His wife was the dark-haired woman on stage.”
“She is very beautiful. Does this mean you are a submissive?”
“Because she was dominating? No, she is a switch. Submissive to men, dominant to women. I, however, am simply a voyeur. I lack the intestinal fortitude to redden
her backend so I send her to Blake.”
“I would be very interested in talking with both of you. Perhaps you can help with some direction. I hope,” Manny eyed Blake, “that I can gain some professional support on this project so that we can open the doors for non-conventional therapy.”
“I will also introduce you to Ginger Franklin,” Blake commented, “the feisty redhead. She is a psychologist and fully supports your theory.”
“Excellent. And the girl? May I have time with her as well?”
“She is mine.”
Humberto raised his eyebrow at the threatening undertone in Blake’s voice. “Of course she is yours,” he intervened. “I think our friend simply wants to interview her and gain direction. You certainly can’t put on a show such as this without raising genuine curiosity.”
“You are right. Please, accept my apology. I am a bit possessive of that particular pet.”
“There is a significant age difference between you two. Do you think it makes you feel more paternal?” Manny asked.
“It makes me feel more… everything. The day she walked in front of my truck was the day my eyes were opened. Let me explain something about this lifestyle, Manny,” Blake said, accepting a glass of tonic water from one of his slaves and popping a piece of candy in her mouth before she left. “Each of us is different and we conduct our lives as we need. In this room are a dozen owners who practice various forms of BDSM. Our pets, as I like to refer to them, have their own needs and desires as well. True happiness in this lifestyle comes when the right owner is matched with the right partner.”
“So the whips and chains scenario…”
“Does not exist for all levels. I am, for all intents and purposes, a sadist. I love the feeling of power and control, and the sound of crying and repentance thrills the hell out of me. Yet, if I ever find out that one of the submissives is being abused, I become violently protective. I do not believe in abuse, no matter how much the sub demands it. There are others that disagree with me. And, FYI, they are not part of my circle.”
“This girl? What is her story?”
Manny tapped his glass as Blake explained Dahlia’s background, her perceived needs, and newly discovered desires. He added that Ginger’s non-conventional approach to treating her client had succeeded where others had failed, and that scenarios like the one witnessed that evening were positive reinforcement aimed at maintaining healthy boundaries when it came to self-destructive behaviors.
“This is truly fascinating and exactly what I want to study. Is that Dr. Franklin?”
“Yes. Ginger! Over here, please. How is Dahlia?”
“Giada is bathing her and then putting her to bed. Did you enjoy the show?”
“Very much. This is Dr. Hodges from the university. I would like you to spend some time with him and discuss his project. I think you will find it very interesting.”
“I would love to. Tell me, Dr. Hodges, are you married?”
“I am not, Dr. Franklin. Is there a reason you are asking?”
“Of course there is. You cannot study this subject unbiasedly without being involved to a point. A spouse might… interfere… with research.” Ginger eyed him carefully. He was nearly Blake’s age, with sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and a pleasant smile. “To start, you need a serious tan. Unless you plan to represent a vampire, get some color in that pretty mug of yours.”
“I gather you are not a submissive.”
“Not at all. I am a dominant who likes to play in the dungeon now and then for shits and giggles. I am also as hedonistic as they come. Just ask the big man, here.” She elbowed Blake gently.
“The champagne is giving you the courage to be a little too familiar, Dr. Franklin,” Blake growled half-heartedly.
“It’s not the booze, it’s the rush post-session. Some of us get off on that, you know,” Ginger grinned, resting her hand on Blake’s shoulder. She yelled as a handful of her hair was grabbed and yanked downward, pushing her to her knees to the floor.
Ginger’s eyes widened as a shining stiletto heel dug into her right shoulder and the tip of a black crop rested under her chin. She looked up at a tall, latex-garbed woman whose hair had been pulled into a high ponytail. She silently mouthed ‘Giada’ and shifted her gaze to Blake. He was pleased with her humiliation!
“You are never to touch the master without permission,” Giada snapped, forcing Ginger back on her rump with her foot. “Apologize this instant! And in the manner of a slave!”
Blake crossed his arms, both amused and excited by the unexpected chain of events. The rest of the people in the room froze, drinks in hands, and held their breath in eager anticipation of Ginger’s response. Would she obey? Would she fight? Would she flee?
Ginger growled and lunged for Giada’s throat. Giada calmly sidestepped and stuck out her foot, causing the woman to trip on the floor and into the lap of an older, heavy-set man.
“You need a good paddling, young woman,” he commented. “What horrid behavior!”
“Yes, Master Broen, she does,” Giada said, pulling Ginger up by the hair and forcing her to face the partially masked face. “What have you to say for yourself?”
“Only that…” Ginger snarled, her faced strained by the grip that held her head bent backwards, “you are hotter than fucking hell and I want a piece of you this instant.”
Giada laughed and planted her mouth on Ginger’s and roughly kissed her, pausing only to bite at her lips. The onlookers clapped and spread to the edges of the room, urging the scene to continue. Giada looked over at Blake, and he nodded his consent to continue with the fantasy Ginger had shared with him. He had made a promise to her and now was time to fulfill it.
“Suck my tits, you little whore,” Giada demanded of Ginger, unzipping the front of her latex cat-suit and allowing her breasts to heave out. Both brown tips sparkled with a gold hoop pierced horizontally through the nipple. “Suck them!”
“Yes, Mistress,” Ginger panted, her red-stained lips fanning around the large areola before latching on and drawing the breast in for her feast.
“The other one! Hurry,” Giada ordered, snapping the crop to Ginger’s thigh. She pretended to inspect her nails as the redhead sucked greedily upon the ample peaks of her breasts. She exaggerated a yawn and shoved Ginger from her.
“I am bored. What other fun can we have? Hmmm…” Giada scanned the room, her grip on Ginger’s hair returned. “Some audience participation might be fun.”
Ginger visibly jerked. “I have never had real cock before. I call my safeword! Blake!”
Blake stepped in front of her and snatched her hair in his hand as Giada stepped back. “You have no safewords with me, pet. I am going to take you tonight in front of my guests. And just before I do,” he lifted her off the ground to face him, “you will beg for my cock in that lovely red pussy.”
“I refuse,” Ginger yelled out, shaking her head. She lightly struggled against the multiple hands that began to remove each article of clothing. “Let me be!”
“Prepare her for me, my friend,” Blake commanded, stepping back next to Giada. “Feast on her until she begs for my cock. Enjoy!”
Ginger shrieked as Blake’s guests, sans Humberto and Manny, ravaged Ginger’s body. Ten pairs of hands, complete with ten mouths, began to pet, poke, and pull at her. Her eyes glazed with pleasure as every naked inch of her body was touched and tasted. Salty tears began to run down her face as she was held with her pussy over one of the women’s mouths as her bottom received several bites and nibbles.
“Very interesting lead into the scene. Good job,” Blake said to Giada as they watched Ginger rocking her pelvis against the insistent tongue. She began to beg and was placed upon a large leather ottoman and forced to kneel with her head hanging off the side. Her arms were held behind her back and her nipples were pinched and bitten while several hands grabbed her knees and held her legs wide apart.
“She looks like a sacrificial virgin,” Manny whispered to Giada. “But Blake said
he hates rape and this…”
“Was agreed upon prior to this day,” Blake interrupted, overhearing him. “She asked me to play a rape scene with her so that she wouldn’t feel at odds with having a cock driven into her. As she puts it, it is one of her ‘lesbian hang-ups’ and she doesn’t want to betray her cause,” he laughed.
“She has a cause?” Giada asked with a grin.
Ginger cried softly as Blake came around and began to spank her immobilized rump with a belt he had borrowed from a guest. He whipped it with a sharp snap against her milky skin, quickly painting streaks of pink and red over the high globes. Blake watched her carefully, monitoring her breathing, body language, and even her scent. It drove him wild.
His rigid organ was unleashed from his pants and the bobbing head aimed toward the widely spread lips of her womanhood. He pressed the bulb against her and waited to feel her push against him. He plunged inside in an instant and Ginger screamed in wild abandon.
The hands began to stroke her soothingly, the mouths covering her with kisses and gentle licking as Blake began to slowly move his cock within her body. Ginger moaned, smacking her ass against him as he pumped.
“Harder,” she whispered. “Show me what I have been missing.”
Blake willingly complied as he rammed his condomed shaft into her, holding her against his pelvis by the hips. He grunted as his own climax grew close and he banged roughly into her body. Ginger slammed her fist down on the chair, her head rolling back before she let loose a primal howl of lust. After three strokes, Blake joined her, and the onlookers cheered his success.
After Blake withdrew from her and once again held his cock captive in his slacks, Ginger continued to jerk spontaneously. The audience began to disperse after offering their gratitude for being invited to such a special viewing. Ginger smiled and nodded, still voiceless as she recovered from her experience. She still had not moved from the kneeling position on the ottoman when Blake brought her a flute of champagne and lifted it to her lips to sip it.
Meeting Her Master Page 9
