by Stasia Black
She drops the flogger and jumps back.
“Slave!” she barks furiously. Before now, her voice was calm. Dominant, yes, but there was an undercurrent of affection.
That’s completely gone now. She just sounds pissed. Did that little bastard do what I think he did?
“Acknowledge your action.” Her movements are stiff as she goes around to his head and unbuckles the ball gag.
“Acknowledge. Your. Action.”
Silence.
“Acknowledge your action or find another Mistress.” She doesn’t shout or even raise her voice, even though it’s obvious something’s happened to make her absolutely furious. On the outside, she’s projecting totally calm, but damn.
“I— I came,” he finally says in a contrite whisper. Yep, that’s what I thought.
It does not move Mistress Nightblood. “Tell the truth.” Her voice is like a whip.
The whine is back in his voice. “I—it’s just, you’re so beautiful and you were making me feel so wonderful for so long and I just couldn’t help it—”
Mistress Nightblood walks to him and quietly starts to undo his ankles from the cuffs keeping him spread eagle.
“What are you doing, Mistress? I swear, it won’t happen again. Mistress, if you just let me explain…” His words fade off at her continued silence.
She walks around to where his hands are cuffed on the other side of the bench. Without a word she undoes the straps binding him.
“You know your way out, Samuel.”
He recoils at the name as if she struck him. It’s a response much more violent than any when the actual flogger was coming down on him.
She stands and goes to turn when he cries out. “Mistress.” For the first time throughout the entire session, the whine is gone from his voice and it sounds like a genuine plea. He looks absolutely devastated. “Forgive me.” Tears stream down his face.
Callie looks confused about what’s happening and she glances up to me. “Isn’t that the point?” she whispers. “Getting off? This is a sex club.”
I shake my head. “Just watch.”
Mistress is still as a statue, staring at him impassively as he falls to pieces in front of her. He peels himself off of the pommel bench and drops into a heap at her feet.
She stands there straight as an arrow, but for the first time tonight, indecision crosses her face. Does Callie get how big a deal this is? I know from talking to Patricia that she was really hoping for more with this sub and now it’s all breaking down right in front of us. Because he refused to give himself completely.
Callie’s eyes are glued to the both of them as Mistress’s expression gentles.
“Acknowledge your actions. This is your last chance.” Her voice is only the tiniest bit softer, but still hard as nails.
The sub looks up at her like she’s just offered him the sun and the moon and the whole wide world. “I made myself come by rubbing myself against the spanking bench. And I did not ask Mistress if I could come.”
Mistress Nightblood lets out the smallest breath of relief and then begins to discuss his punishment—two weeks in a chastity cage that she promptly secures around his cock.
I lead Callie out of the room afterwards.
“But I don’t get it,” Callie says. “She doesn’t get to have sex for two weeks either now.”
“That’s not what it’s about,” I explain. “And she doesn’t just want control. She wants the best for him. She wants for him to succeed.”
Callie frowns. “So all those things he offered—worshiping her and giving her all the orgasms she could want, cooking for her, giving her massages… I mean that’s the kind of thing you think of when you hear master and slave. But it’s not about that, is it? She wanted something,” the furrow between Callie’s eyes grows, “I don’t know, something deeper?”
She looks up at me and I nod.
“I wanted to show you Mistress Nightblood at work because she’s one of the best,” Jackson says. “The most important thing between a Dominant and their Submissive is the bond of trust between them. When you started watching the scene, you might’ve thought that she had all the power. But that’s deceptive.” He pauses in the corridor and looks down at me, those intense dark blue eyes of his. “Her sub truly holds the power.”
Callie scoffs. “He was tied up and gagged.”
I raise an eyebrow as I lead her to the right, taking us further down the hall of private rooms. We pass by a few more windows, some with patrons outside watching the scenes unfolding with interest, others just idly chatting. We go past all of them without stopping.
“Really? You saw in the galleria earlier—one snap of a finger and it all stops. A Dominant can only take a Sub as far as they are willing to go. I know at first it all just seems like ball gags and whips and paddles, but the really good doms, dommes, and subs know how to take it to another level.” I think back to Miranda and all she taught me. “They know how to help you discover parts of yourself you never even knew were there. It’s always a learning process. You learn from one another.”
Callie shifts uncomfortably and for a moment I wonder if I said something wrong but then she smiles at me. “Are you a good dom?”
I stare at her a long moment. That is the question, isn’t it?
“We’ll see, Callie. We’ll see.” I start walking again.
It’s not until we come to several solid doors that I slow down. These doors are numbered with fancy Victorian script. I pull out my wallet and grab the key card, then swipe it in front of the door. The light flashes green and then it unlocks.
I push the door open and Callie follows right on my heels. I can only hope her enthusiasm from the last scene carries into this. I only hope this isn’t too far too fast.
Because if it’s not—?
If it’s not, I could give her a taste of what it really feels like. The control I think she needs so desperately. I think of her this morning, the terror and pain in her eyes as she screamed no and shoved me away from her.
So I don’t turn around and drag her out of the room but I do pause before she can pass by me and see what’s inside.
“We can leave at any time. If you’re uncomfortable or you want to go, just say the word.”
Her frown comes back. “Just show me what’s in the room, Jackson.”
I breathe out and step back so she can pass by. They spared no expense with this room. Burnished wood floors, brick walls, and lights tucked away in wall sconces that imitate torches.
And in the back?
My friend Daniel shackled naked to the furthermost brick wall, face to the brick.
His arms are stretched in a Y up above his head by chains that attach to anchor points farther up the walls. He’s prepared just as I instructed, with only his wrists cuffed. His feet are free but no doubt it’s been uncomfortable, standing with his arms in that position for God knows how long.
Not that Daniel would care. The more pain involved, the more he’s on board. He and Miranda were best friends, they were both such pain sluts. In the end, it was one of the reasons Miranda and I parted ways. She did want me to hurt her and that aspect of the life never appealed to me. No matter how much I spanked her, she always wanted it harder. She wanted me to choke her during sex. She wanted it rougher. Meaner. And in the end that was the one thing I couldn’t give.
I watch Callie and she jerks her gaze away from Daniel, cheeks going pink. Because he’s chained to the wall or simply because he’s naked? But the next second her eyes flicker back to him like she can’t not look. Like earlier with Mistress Nightblood, she’s fascinated.
All right then. We’re doing this. I walk forward toward the wall where the floggers and canes and paddles hang.
I pluck a wooden paddle off the wall and test its weight. I swing it through the air a few times with a quick whip of my wrist, creating a low whistle of air in its wake. That’ll do. I nod in satisfaction.
Then I go back to the wall and pick up another paddle. I test
its weight and swing as well. I’m being a bit theatrical, if I’m honest. I want Callie to see everything first and have a moment to take it all in.
But finally, I turn back and hold the second paddle towards her. handle out. “Your turn.”
Six
CALLIE
I ignore the paddle and instead grab the fabric of Jackson’s shirt, dragging him over to the corner farthest away from the dude that’s chained to the wall. “What the hell?”
Jackson studies me with a dark intensity glinting in his eyes—like he’s been soaking up the energy of this place and getting his Dom on more and more the longer we stay.
“The hell,” he emphasizes the word as he steps directly into my personal space and firmly places the paddle in my hand, “is that you are going to take this paddle and spank that man’s ass.”
He jerks his head in the direction of Chained-Up Guy. Jackson comes closer till his chest is pressed up against mine and his voice is a growl in my ear. “I’ll show you how. The best way to learn is through hands-on experience.”
Sexual energy sparks off him.
“But—” I scoff at the ridiculousness of his suggestion. It’s difficult to think with him standing so close. Why does he always have to smell so damn good? And why the hell am I focusing on the way he smells? There are way bigger things to be focusing on here. Like the chained-up guy in the corner and the paddle in my hand. Yeah. Holy shit.
“You what?” Jackson asks calmly.
“I don’t know how to spank anybody!” I finally manage to whisper, taking a step back and tossing my hands slightly up in the air. There. With a little more distance between us, it’s easier to focus.
“Which is why I said I’ll teach you.”
I look back and forth between Chained-Up Guy and Jackson. Of all the—I can’t believe the—I make my voice even quieter but say with no less vehemence, “I’m not having sex with some dude who’s chained up!” Though, even as I say it the already-moist area between the legs of my suit seems to get even more slick. I look down so Jackson can’t read it in my eyes.
“Who said anything about sex?”
Okay, wait. Now I’m seriously confused.
Jackson must be able to see enough of my face even though I’m not looking at him because he says, “Callie, this lifestyle doesn’t always have to be about sex.”
Okay, now I do look him full in the face. “But,” I say slowly, then gesture back in the direction of the main club. “Isn’t this a… sex club?”
Jackson runs a hand through his hair, something he only does when he’s really riled about something.
“Sure, in BDSM there can be sex,” he says, looking in the same direction I am back at the door.
Then his gaze lands back on my face. “But there doesn’t have to be. In fact, a lot of Dominants and Dommes work with clients that they meet on a completely nonsexual basis, just for the sake of fulfilling a need. People seek this lifestyle for all kinds of reasons.”
At my skeptical look, he crosses his arms. “Yes, sex can be a big part of it for a lot of people, but it’s not all there is. Many more are perfectly celibate for long periods of time. Then they come here to find what they can’t in the vanilla world for a release every few months.”
I’m about to call bullshit, when Jackson speaks again. “Take Daniel here.” Jackson gestures at the man chained to the wall. “He’s perfectly happy with a session whether it ends in orgasm or not.”
Jackson starts to walk toward the man and gestures me to follow.
I cross my arms but after tapping my toe and glancing at the door, I give up and hurry after Jackson. I mean, who am I kidding? Stay and see more of the craziest live porno I could imagine?
Fuck. I shouldn’t like this. After what happened to me, I should really find every bit of this repulsive. What the fuck is wrong with me that the crotch of my catsuit is so slick with my moisture I’m afraid anyone nearby might hear me squelch if they walk too close to me. I squeeze my eyes shut hard and breathe out a long, hissing breath through my teeth.
But God, if I’m messed up, doesn’t that mean Jackson is too? And everyone else in this place?
No. This is all just a game to them. They aren’t fucked in the head because they aren’t like you. They don’t have your past. Your damage.
“Daniel’s interest in BDSM is the M. Masochism.” Jackson’s voice startles me. Even more startling? I’m standing right beside him. Guess my feet and subconscious made the decision for me. Then what he said registers.
My eyes shoot to Jackson’s. “He likes pain?” I ask quietly. Maybe I was wrong and I’m not the only damaged one here. Or I just need to redefine my definition of normal. Real quick.
“No need to whisper on my account.”
I’m so surprised by the chained guy’s voice that I almost lose my footing. These fucking heels. And I just, well, I—
I didn’t expect him to actually talk to us.
After Mistress Nightblood ignoring we were there, I don’t know I guess I just assumed that’s how it would be with everyone here. Stupid really. God, what do I think this is, a zoo? Where we just go and stare at the wildlife? Way to be a bitch, Callie.
“Oh?” I ask, hoping he can’t read everything I’ve been thinking on my face.
The chained guy—no, Daniel, I correct in my head—laughs. For the first time I really look up into his face. He’s extraordinarily handsome, maybe just shy of thirty?
He’s got lush, shining brown hair. Defined eyebrows and eyelashes so long they almost look fake. His face is the kind of handsome that makes me think of a beautiful woman. He’d come off as too feminine overall if it weren’t for his toned, very male body. But that body—damn, it just doesn’t quit. Bronzed skin, rippling back muscles that lead down to a ripe, round—
“Oh yeah, I am a total pain slut.” Daniel smiles at me over his shoulder, showing off a perfect set of teeth that’d give a dentist a boner. “Jackson here can tell you all about it.”
Is he answering a question? Did I ask one? Oh shit, I’ve just been standing here ogling, haven’t I?
It takes me a second to catch up. When I do, I look between the two men and feel the line start to crease between my brows. Wait? These two? Does Jackson swing that way? I mean, not that I have a problem with that. I just thought… I squint up at Jackson, trying to see him in this new light.
Jackson grins wide and then starts laughing, obviously reading my expression. “What did I just tell you, Callie? These situations are not always sexual. I know Daniel because we have a mutual friend who asked for my help sometimes disciplining him when Daniel was her sub.”
“I was more than she could handle, you see.” Daniel winks at me. Fucking winks at me. While he’s strung up naked as the day he was born.
A loud thwack echoes throughout the room. I look down and indeed, the blooming pink on Daniel’s ass indicates Jackson just spanked the dude. “The problem is,” Jackson says, “you enjoy the punishments too much. You intentionally try to piss your Dommes off so you can get more of what you want.”
I glance back up at Daniel’s face. Is this really what he wants? His eyebrows are drawn together, his mouth open and instead of tensing at the pain, he looks like he’s finally relaxing.
Without thinking, my eyes drop to Daniel’s nether regions. But there’s nothing going on down there. He’s not even semi-hard. I glance back up and see he’s twisted to look over his shoulder again, eyes trained on the paddle Jackson’s holding. Now I recognize the expression for what it is—not lust. It’s longing.
He wants this paddling so bad he’s almost salivating for it.
“Some Dommes like trying to tame a bratty sub,” Daniel says. He shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but with the way he can’t take his eyes off the paddle, he’s not doing a very good job of pretending nonchalance.
Jackson tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow, obviously seeing through this guy’s crap. “Any good Dom or Domme is going to drop you like a ho
t potato once they realize you won’t stop trying to top from the bottom.”
“Well, that’s why you and I make such good friends,” Daniel finally looks up, adopting the attitude he had when we first entered. Carefree. Fun. “You never tried to be my Dom.”
Within moments, though, his eyes track back down to the paddle in Jackson’s hand. “Which is great because it means we can do favors for one another.” He grins back up at Jackson. “Shall we get started?”
Daniel’s gaze moves to me, brown eyes warming. “I hear we’re breaking in a new Domme today. You can do anything you like to me, beautiful. Spank me, try your hand with the floggers, there are dildos of all sizes, I’m fine with bull whips and—”
“Enough,” Jackson growls. “You can’t pull that crap when I’m around. No topping from the bottom. You want what this paddle has to offer, you respect your Mistress while you’re with me. Besides, you know this is just a first session.”
Jackson snaps his fingers just like Mistress Nightblood did. “Scene begins now. Eyes to the floor.”
Daniel’s whole posture changes. His eyes drop and his easy relaxed posture goes on alert. I also don’t miss the look of intense and focused concentration that comes over his face. I get the feeling that the Daniel I’ve met so far has been a mask, except for the brief glimpse of desperate yearning after Jackson first spanked him.
I take a step back so that I can’t see Daniel’s face anymore. This is all just… There’s just a lot more to it than I could have ever expected. I mean… bull whips? Holy shit.
“What is your safe word?” Jackson asks.
“Red.”
“And yellow if things start to become uncomfortable, correct?” Jackson clarifies.
“Yes. Correct.”
“Repeat the safe word one more time.”
“Red.”
Jackson turns to me and demonstrates how to grip the paddle. “Wooden impact implements like a paddle leave fewer marks but cause more immediate pain than leather. So it’s perfect for someone like Daniel who wants to repeat the experience as often as possible without having marks. That way he gets the most pleasure-pain out of the experience.”
