His cock jerked as the first inch of rubber slipped inside her. It was hard to admit jealousy, particularly when it was a stupid rubber phallus he envied, but he wished it was him sliding into that hot, wet sheath. She didn't help matters with her reaction—the subtle jolt of her body followed by a long, surprised moan.
“Um, Master Finnegan, a dick.”
Finn knocked jealousy aside and grinned, gripping the second, shorter dildo as she continued to sink down. The blunt head touched her pucker and she lurched up in shock. “Two, actually, little dove. One for each hole, so keep going. I don't want to see an inch of them by the time I count to ten.”
“I think I should call the SPCS.”
Finn frowned. What the hell was the, “SPCS?”
Soft laughter edged into a hiss as the second dildo opened her up and bore deep, her weight her own enemy. She was almost fully seated now, her legs in the wrong position to push her up. “Society for the prevention of cruelty to submissives, Sir. This is...oh, God. Can I get off now, please, Sir? This isn't...this is too much.”
“Let your body relax, Ava.” He adjusted her leg, tucking it back against the side of the machine so she knelt on the padding. Rounding the machine, he did the same with the other, giving her body the angle it needed to take both fake cocks to the hilt. “I'll give you a minute to adjust.”
Stepping back, he admired the scene. Her slim figure straddled the Sybian, her hips already rocking unsteadily against the fullness. The chain was too low for his liking, suspending her bound hands in front of her face. He followed it to a small winch on the wall, and with a few careful winds of the wheel, lifted her hands over her head, stretching her body out until she quivered like a plucked string. All she needed was some restraints to keep her legs in position.
“Look at you. So beautiful.” Returning to her, Finn began to stalk around the machine. “What are your colors, Ava?”
“Red, yellow, green. Sir, I think I...I need to...” Sweat gleamed under the light, a faint sheen over blue-tinged skin. Flushed from head to toe, her back arched, and Finn saw her face contort with a mix of pleasure and discomfort. “Permission, Sir, please?”
The remote was quite bulky in his hands when he retrieved it from the nook set into the end of the frame. Wireless, it gave him the freedom to walk as he controlled her every sensation. He flicked the vibration switch to On and heard the machine come alive with a low hum, a servant waiting patiently for its commands. It appeared fairly simple to pilot, he thought, and turned the dial to the first setting.
In answer to Ava's question, he replied, “Come at your leisure, little dove.”
She rode the machine tentatively at first, crying out sharply when she reached the pinnacle and tipped over the edge. Finn knocked it up to the second notch, hearing the mechanics alter slightly. A stronger hum filled the air. Her hips canted, grinding down, and her cries grew louder, sharper. The muscles of her stomach contracted, the scent of arousal thickening.
“Somebody likes the Sybian,” he commented, kicking it up again. Notch three. The first orgasms were usually the easiest to draw out, before the nervous system overheated and the body became so sensitive, orgasms became akin to pain. His goal was to coax her up to that delicate line, feed her body with pleasure and sate her mind with the pain she desired. She'd take what she needed. “Color, Ava?”
“Greeeeeeen,” was the mewling answer.
Okay then. Finn skipped level four and went straight for five. He was viciously hard, his cock demanding their submissive get the hell off the pseudo dicks and climb onto the real deal. She wasn't rocking any more, those slim hips were dancing, bouncing, slapping against silicone with wet slaps. She'd tire soon, her body burning out.
He intended to wring every last ounce of pleasure from her before that happened.
The face he loved contorted with the onset of another climax, those stunning eyes rolling back for a moment as she shuddered and wailed. She sagged in the restraints, her arms going limp. Poor little sub, he thought wickedly. She didn't know what to do with the overload on her system, was helpless to do anything but take it. Fully impaled on the two dildos, she simply sat and shuddered.
“Keep going, little minx. You're not done yet.” His thumb hovered over the On switch for rotation, debating whether or not to activate it. Three orgasms in a short period of time would make her feel heavy, overstimulated. Rotation might be too much.
“I'm not?” Her breath hitched. “But I'm a candle.”
Huh. That was definitely new. Finn had heard some excuses in his time, but he'd never heard a sub describe herself as a candle before. Slightly concerned he'd turned her mind to mush, he toned the machine's vibrations back down to the first notch, letting them simmer gently. Keeping her on a low buzz of arousal. “Are you hurting, Ava?”
A curtain of white hair swung gently in time with her head. Gasping breaths eased. “No, Sir. But I'm glowing. I feel like I'm glowing from the inside out...” She trailed off weakly, a quiet ah-ah-ah replacing whatever it was she'd been about to say. “I think I need to pee.”
Satisfied her brain was completely functional, only a bit dazed if anything, Finn continued his circle around her. Tweaking the dial, he inched up the vibration again, amusing himself by urging her up to the brink, whipping her away again before she fell. Making her work for her fourth orgasm was more entertaining than force-feeding it to her.
“Master Finnegan? Sir?”
“Yes, Ava?”
“I-I don't know if you heard me before,” she gasped out between whimpers, “but I really need to pee!”
I wonder... “Feeling full, are we, little minx?” Finn perused the immediate area. The Sybian was waterproof, for obvious reasons. The padded top could be wiped down after use, and the floor...oh yeah, no fibrous material in sight. The whole station was designed for quick and easy clean-up should something like this happen. Now he was aware this was a possibility, he had a yen to make it happen. “It's okay, little dove. Just relax and I'll take care of it.”
“I don't...Sir, please...” She was on the verge of crying, yanking uselessly at the cuffs. “I don't want to pee!”
He deftly reduced the vibrations back to a simmer again, stepping forward to set the control box behind her. Her thigh was ridiculously tense beneath his palm as he rested it high on her leg. The muscles quivered as he stroked gently. “Ava, stop worrying. You're not going to pee.” He reached between her legs to where she was wet and swollen. Her restraints jangled harshly when his fingertip grazed over her clit, her hips desperately seeking to evade him. He could feel the low-grade buzz of the powerful vibrator humming through the little nub. “Does it hurt anywhere? Are you in pain?”
“No,” she whined pitifully. “But I need to—”
Finn cut off her next insistence with a shake of his head. “It doesn't hurt now, and it's not going to. You're going to trust me, aren't you, pretty girl? You're scared of being embarrassed, humiliated, but there's nobody outside this platform, little dove. Even if there was, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's a beautiful thing, I promise. Will you let me show you?”
She responded best if he didn't force a choice on her when she got herself all twisted up. He'd learned that the hard way and it only resulted in her jamming her heels into the ground and holding onto her anxiety for dear life. In his opinion, asking her to submit to his wishes instead of demanding she did didn't make him less dominant, it just meant he understood her far better than she realized. He didn't want everything to be a battle of wills, however fun it could be. A battle of wills with Ava was some of the best entertainment, but here and now, sweet capitulation was best for them both.
“I can say no?” Indecision warred with her need to please. She hated humiliation more than she'd hated anal; Finn identified with that. Humiliation wasn't on his list of approved kinks either.
“You can always say no,” he reassured her, tapping his fingernail on the distended bud beneath his fingers. He relished the high-pitched cry
he wrenched from her lips, did it again just to hear the delicious squeak of distress. “Just say yes this time.”
“Okay, okay.” She dropped her head forward in defeat.
“That's my girl. Trust me,” he reiterated, sliding his fingers through the wetness soaking the space between her thighs in a fond farewell. He sucked his fingers clean, licking his lips when her eyes met his through the curtain of her hair. “Enjoy the ride, little dove.”
Finn retrieved the control box, clicking the dial from one to eight. Not quite the maximum setting but enough to send Ava's body into spasms. Her fingers gripped the chains above the cuffs, turning white with strain. Her stomach muscles contracted, almost doubling her over as plaintive cries ripped into the air, drowning out every other sound in the room. He saw her thighs bunch, launching her up to escape the sudden, overwhelming current spiking into her orifices.
Before she could throw herself off the machine, Finn vaulted up behind her, one arm hooking around her waist and holding her down onto the silicon appendages driving her insane. Perched on the padded ledge behind the Sybian, he swiped his thumb over the rotation switch, flicking it on.
Ava screamed his name.
He'd wrestled steers with less strength than his submissive in her desire to avoid her orgasm. Bucking, writhing, howling with primitive rage, she did her damnedest to climb off the Sybian. The orgasm raced into existence; he could feel it barreling through her with the force of an avalanche. He shoved the box into the narrow gap between his thighs and the base of the machine, twisted the rotation dial several notches, then braced her with his free arm over her chest.
The orgasm detonated.
It seized her from head to toe, locking her in an endless spasm. Another scream erupted, quickly dying to silence as her lungs squeezed the sound dry. Rivulets of sweat streamed down her back, her throat, her chest, turning his shirt into a damp mess. Pale, milky fluid burst free in a low arch from between her thighs, liberally splattering over the padded surface in front of her.
Finn didn't hesitate. Releasing the arm from around her hips, he smacked the Off button and felt the machine's vibration purr into silence. It took only a second to break the snap hooks and lower her arms, but by the time he had her hands in front of her, Ava flopped limply against him, her body jittering with aftershocks. He turned her head gently, letting it loll against his shoulder as he studied her face.
Orgasm number four had KO'd her completely.
“Need a hand?” A familiar voice asked quietly from the darkness beyond the circle of blue light.
Finn squinted, spotted Spencer's gruff face amongst a small scattering of onlookers. He nodded, and the gathered individuals took that to mean the end of the scene, dispersing as the Dungeon Master stepped into the light with his habitual scowl in place. Finn swung his leg over the table, dismounting effortlessly while keeping Ava's unconscious form upright with his arm around her shoulders.
“Got your blanket. Can you get her off?” Spencer asked, coming forward with the material spread wide.
She was in an awkward position for moving. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He slipped his arm lower, curling it around her waist and lifting her high enough for the dildos to slip free with a soft, wet squelch. Yeah, they'd made one hell of a mess. With Spencer's help, Finn managed to bundle her into the blanket and scoop her up. “You're gonna want to talk about the Domme, but I need to get Ava somewhere safe while I clean this lot up.”
“It's taken care of,” Spencer said, pointing out into the shadows and crooking his finger at someone. “The station will be thoroughly cleaned and prepped. Come with me, I'll get you settled in one of the private areas until your sub wakes. We can talk once she's regained her senses.”
Grateful, Finn watched as a young man crept onto the stage, his head bowed submissively. Middle twenties, maybe, and on the slim side. No muscle tone to speak of, but his build suggested he'd be a powerhouse when he finished maturing. Dirty blonde hair, a bit shaggy, and the glimpse Finn got of his face spoke of a happy place. The boy was in his element, apparently. “You're sure about this?”
“Alexander enjoys servitude. His Mistress has volunteered him as a reward for passing his exams with flying colors. There are more than a few members thrilled with the way you put Marie Antoinette back in her place earlier, so consider this a thank you,” the Master told him with just the slightest hint of censure. “But we'll talk about that.”
Finn rammed his feet back into his boots, keeping Ava cradled close. A quick peek into the swaddle of blankets told him she was wiped out. Her face, alive with a rosy bloom, was slack and peaceful. Her body, on the other hand, was a riot of aftershocks. “I'd rather talk now if you don't mind. I'd like to get Ava back to the hotel as soon as she wakes—it's been a long day for her, and she needs to rest.”
Spencer nodded, the silver in his hair glinting. “No problem. With me, then.”
They moved through Black Light steadily. Numbers seemed to have declined since Finn started the scene with Ava, and he wondered how long they'd been immersed in the Sybian experience. Probably longer than he thought; he had a tendency to get sucked into her, to lose track of time. When nothing existed but her, there was nothing to rush for.
Other scenes around the room were beginning to wrap up. Few submissives remained tied down to spanking benches or trussed up to the St. Andrew's Cross. Many were cuddled up to their Dominants, basking in aftercare, or relaxing with a drink by their partner's side. The atmosphere of the room had changed subtly, losing the charge of tension and becoming softer, more relaxed. As though the frenzy of sexual appetites was thoroughly sated and the time to enjoy the companionship of others was at hand.
Spencer paused briefly by the bar, leaning over to exchange a quick word with his wife. The Swedish beauty nodded, her eyes on his face and his alone. It was hard to believe anyone could love the surly bastard, but all they had to do was watch her eyes as she spoke to him. Love was the operative word when it came to Spencer and Klara. It just showed how two polar opposites could be perfectly suited to each other.
Klara's mouth curved into a smile, her lips hardly moving as she murmured something to her Dom. Her face lit up as Spencer reached over and dug his hand into her hair, dragging her forward. Pain flashed and morphed into a look Finn recognized. If the Dungeon Master wasn't careful, his sub was likely to drag him over the bar to have her wicked way with him.
Instead, he gave her a hard kiss before releasing her, and he walked away toward the end of the bar, disappearing through a door. Amused, Finn grinned as Klara touched her fingers to her lips, her smile widening. Whatever Spencer had said to her, she was pleased.
“McLeod.” The man waited impatiently in the doorway. “Haven't got all night.”
Finn skirted around people, careful not to knock into anyone, and managed to fit his woman through the narrow door to a small office. Spencer kicked the door shut, then squeezed around Finn to sit in his chair, gesturing to the seat opposite. He eyed it dubiously, not quite sure he trusted it to hold his weight alone, never mind with the combination of him and Ava. But he sat gingerly, relieved to take the weight off his feet.
“I'm not going to beat around the bush,” Spencer said without preamble, leaning back in his chair. “What's said in this office stays in this office. Are you absolutely certain you want to go ahead with filing a report on Marie Antoinette?”
Hmmm. Interesting. Finn rearranged his limp sub more comfortably as he thought the question through. Was Spencer going to try and discourage him from lodging a formal complaint about the Domme? He couldn't see a reason why the Master would want to do so, especially if the woman was as much of a menace as she’d been tonight.
He was at home in a boardroom as much as he was with his ass in a saddle. Spencer didn't intimidate him, but Finn respected that this was the man's territory. He had no desire to upset the balance of Spencer's world if he didn't have to, but he wasn't going to back down either. Territory came with re
spect, and Finn had nothing but respect for the man who ran the original Black Light like a captain running a ship.
“The woman interrupted vital aftercare with my submissive to proposition me, Cook. She was all but ready to drag Ava off to be fucked in a quartet with her own subs while she submitted to me. I have nothing against Switches, but I do object to anyone butting into a private moment they have no right to disturb. Would you have me hold my hands up and let her walk away unscathed?”
“No, I wouldn't tolerate it myself. Can't expect anyone else to either. The woman's already had warnings about her conduct. I just need your statement to make her immediate dismissal possible. More than half the members she's played this stunt on have refused to push the matter, mainly because she becomes so fucking combative.”
“Yeah, I got that. Tried to play the equality card to dig her way out of the crater she made. There's an inferiority complex there; I'd say a lack of confidence in herself as a submissive. She calls herself a Switch, carries the Dominant persona around like a shield, but undermines herself by forcing her way into other dynamics in a desperate attempt to submit. She has three very willing submissive males at her beck, but I'd be willing to bet she hasn't trained them.” Finn shrugged when Spencer stared at him. “Three's overkill. When it comes to her, it's a status symbol. She can walk into a club with her groupies and people think she's the bee's knees.”
Sharp baby-blue eyes laughed at Finn from across the desk. “And you think you need a shrink to help you with her?” Spencer's chin jerked toward Ava before he shook his head in disbelief. “You're better equipped to handle her yourself than you believe. So, what would you have me do? Marie's had her shot here and missed by a mile. She irritates the staff, and more than half the members hate her presence in the club. Her actions tonight slammed the lid on her coffin and hammered in the nails.”
Black Light: Branded Page 26
