THE NEXT FEW WEEKS WERE some of the happiest of Samantha’s life. She was Brian Sinclaire’s sub, and no matter what other problems cropped up at work or at home, remembering that fact always managed to put a smile on her face.
Theirs was a 24/7 power exchange, but not a complete one. Brian did not treat her as his slave, barking orders whenever he felt like it and trying to micromanage her life. He treated her as a partner, one whom he respected and cherished, whose opinions he appreciated and held dear. But he was her Dom, and with certain things, especially matters regarding the bedroom, he held himself in position of authority. His was the final word.
In everyday life, when they went out or met with other people, he would act the doting boyfriend, polite and chivalrous. But in his house, and especially in his dungeon, Brian would let loose his inner Sadist. Samantha would not go so far as to think he acted like an entirely different person–he was still Brian–but that part of him which he always felt like he had to hide away, obscure from the rest of the world, could be released freely, to revel in whatever perverted debauchery it chose. And there were no limits to Brian’s imagination.
Samantha was paddled, belted, whipped, flogged, cropped, and spanked with various instruments. She was tied up, cuffed down, folded, and bent over, on what felt like every piece of furniture in Brian’s house. Nothing (and nowhere) was sacred. The dungeon equipment down in the basement certainly made it easier to position and restrain her the way he liked, but if Brian felt like leaning her over the kitchen countertop, yanking down her panties, and spanking her with a spatula right there next to the stove, he did.
Samantha loved it. She loved being at his beck and call, fulfilling all his desires, and obeying his every command, no matter how depraved or sadistic. She never felt more free, more herself, than when she was kneeling on the floor, kissing his toes.
Brian didn’t usually give her “commands”; usually, he couched his words as requests. But that didn’t change the fact that she was expected to fulfill and obey them, immediately. The only correct answer to his soft-spoken directions was “yes, Brian” if they were outside the dungeon walls, or “yes, Sir” within them. A “no” answer had to be backed up by a good reason, or Samantha would be punished.
There were some valid “no” answers. Samantha still had a business to run, work to do, and a house to maintain. She took those responsibilities seriously. Her life did not stop just because she was now Brian’s sub, and Brian made it clear he didn’t want it to.
But now, most nights a week, as well as every weekend, Samantha spent her time with Brian. Sometimes he would take her out, show her a good time, and drop her off at home right afterwards. Sometimes he would take her back to his house, and they would spend the rest of the evening on the sofa, watching T.V., or just talking. Then he would lead her back to his bedroom, and make love to her slowly and tenderly.
But more often than not, he would lead them both down to the dungeon, and there, he would become the artist, and she would become his empty canvas. He would mark up her flesh with his tools, his weapons of hedonism, until she felt shredded, ravaged…stripped to something less than human. In those moments, when she was deep in subspace and it felt like Brian was guiding her through fields of flowers like the Pied Piper, wielding his canes and crops and floggers like melodic flutes, all Samantha could do was follow blindly, squeaking now and then with the pain. Her mind would let go, and she would surrender to cathartic release. She would surrender to the pain.
So far, she had never safeworded with him, not once. There had been many times when she had come close, very close, and she would wonder if Brian realized just how close he got. But he always pulled her back, just in time.
Brian knew, instinctively, where her edge was, how much she could take. Now he honed that knowledge to precision, and narrowed her edge to a razor-sharp line. It was a careful process, one that he took great delight in. He was breaking her to her bare bones, and loving every part of it.
Samantha would often look in the mirror at all her welts and bruises and admire them lovingly. She thought they were beautiful.
She could not show them to anyone else, of course. There was really no one else to show them to anyway, except her sister, and there was no way she could ever show them to Kimberly. Kimberly wouldn’t understand them at all. She could not be trusted to let Samantha make her own choices and live her own life. She would think Samantha needed “saving,” and then god only knew what she would try to do to “rescue” her sister.
In fact, Kimberly was starting to get on Samantha’s nerves already with her constant questions and nagging. She wanted to meet Brian. She wanted to get to know her sister’s boyfriend. She wanted to know his last name, was that too much to ask?
As far as Samantha was concerned, yes, that was too much to ask. The topic of Brian was private, a subject separate from the rest of Samantha’s life. She didn’t know if or when that would change. But for now, she wanted to keep it that way.
Brian was not so reserved about their relationship. True to his word, he brought her along to business meetings and dinners, showing her off to his work associates. On these occasions, Samantha always did her best to act the poised and polite girlfriend, dressing appropriately, behaving demurely, and speaking only when she had something to say befitting the conversation. Being a small business owner herself, she knew how to impress the high-class executive crowd, especially the males. Brian needed a woman who could hold her own, yet at the same time, reflect well on his arm. Samantha was well qualified for the job. Brian constantly found himself more and more impressed and proud of her after each outing, and let her know it with his words of approval and the light in his eyes that shown every time he looked at her. But he had only taken her to formal, civilized functions so far; he had not yet brought her to any of the kinky clubs or dungeons in the area.
Now he decided it was time. One of his favorite local dungeons was holding a fetish party, and all of his local kinkster friends would be there. It was the perfect time to introduce Samantha to that side of his life.
“It’s called the Royal and Regal party,” he told her. “You’re supposed to dress up and come in costume. You can come looking like royalty, like a king or queen–”
“You mean a kinky king or queen.”
“Of course,” Brian grinned. “Or you could dress up like a courtesan–or something else entirely. You don’t even have to dress up, if you don’t want to; you could still come to the party in any kind of fetish gear, anything you think makes you look sexy–”
“But that’s not what you have in mind. That’s not what you want.”
Brian smiled and shrugged. “I was thinking we could go in complementing costumes. I could go as a court inquisitor, and you could go dressed as my prisoner. You would look so, so sexy dressed in sackcloth. But if you don’t like the idea, we could figure out something else.”
“No, I like your idea. It sounds like fun.” She left it at that, and Brian thought the issue settled.
A few days went by, and Brian presented Samantha with her costume. It was, indeed, made out of a material that resembled sackcloth, and revealed more skin than it covered. The waist was belted, but the skirt was slitted along both legs, with the openings going so high up her thighs, Samantha realized she was going to have to find the right panties if she was going to wear any at all. The top wouldn’t allow her a bra, it was too low cut. But she wouldn’t need one: the form-fitting top, laced and wired like a corset, would support her breasts well enough.
The night of the party came, and Brian came out of his bedroom in full regalia. His pants were black leather, soft and skin tight; they showed off his long legs and muscular thighs with mouth-watering prominence. Loosely circling his waist was a wide, thick, silver-buckled belt. In the belt rested a tightly coiled whip on one side, and a short leather flogger on the other.
Brian’s vest, also made of black leather, formed a V-neck opening that dipped all the way down to his compact belly. Completing the costume was a black eye-mask framing his steel-blue eyes. Brian looked every bit the sexy medieval torturer.
Samantha was ready for him. Her thin cotton dress clung to every curve, from her softly-rounded shoulders, down to her flat stomach, and around her flaring hips. The dress was a drab beige, but accentuated all of her feminine contours with voluptuous precision. She had pinned up her hair, but had managed a wild, unfettered look.
Brian stopped to admire the image she presented. “You look amazing,” he said.
“So do you.” She gave him a nervous smile, then looked down. Brian frowned, seeing her unease. A sense of bad omen made the back of his neck tingle, but he ignored it. She’s probably just worried about looking good for the party, he thought. He put his foot out.
“Do my boots,” he ordered. Samantha went to the closet, got the high lace-up boots Brian would be wearing tonight, and fell to her knees in front of him to help him lace them up. Her eyes narrowed in concentration and her even front teeth bared as she bit her pouting lower lip.
The sight of her, dressed as a beautiful submissive captive as she knelt on the floor to carefully lace up his boots, made his cock twitch, and it was almost too much for Brian. He was tempted to haul her over his shoulder and have his way with her in his own private dungeon, party be damned.
He clenched his teeth and got his dick under control.
Once Samantha was done with both boots, she stood up, but continued to look down to the floor. Brian thought she was trying to keep the moment solemn, but couldn’t shake the nagging feeling something was wrong. He tried to dispel the idea.
“Are you ready to go?” He asked.
“I guess.” Her tiny voice surprised him, and another tingle of caution prickled the back of his neck. Brian studied her face, trying to find any reason for her mood. But he couldn’t think of any, and chalked it up to unnecessary worry once more.
“Let’s go,” he said. He led them through the family room into the garage. Nobody would see them dressed as they were until they got to the party, and by then, nobody would think twice about it.
In the car, Samantha remained subdued. Brian tried to put her at ease.
“You look great, you know,” he repeated, giving her passing glances as he drove. “Everyone is going to love you.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m going to introduce you to people I’ve known since I moved here. They’re good people. I hope you’ll want to see them again, once you meet them.”
“I’m sure I will.”
Brian’s brows creased. “Samantha, is something wrong?”
She sighed and smoothed her skirt down. “It’s just been a while since I’ve been to a public dungeon, or done anything kinky in public. I’m nervous.”
There was a pause of silence. Brian knew the last time she had visited a dungeon had not been since the year before, and in a different city. Samantha had not visited any of the dungeons in the local area since moving here, nor had she tapped into the local BDSM scene. Brian still had no idea why, and Samantha wouldn’t tell him. She had remained very sketchy on the subject. Now Brian began to wonder if they should have spoken about it a little more in depth before going to this party.
“Brian.” Samantha’s voice was high and, to Brian’s ears, scared. “You’re wearing your whip and your flogger. Are you planning on using them on me at the party?”
Was this why she was acting so fearful? She was afraid he was going to whip her? “I was thinking about it,” he said. “But I won’t this first time in a public dungeon if you don’t want me to.” Why hadn’t they discussed what they would do at the party before?
“No, it’s okay, you can whip me if you want.” She was looking out the window as she said it, and Brian couldn’t see from her expression if she meant it or not.
“Do you want me to whip or flog you?”
“Whatever you want,” Samantha replied, making Brian’s teeth gnash at her bland reply. Her next question altered course completely. “Are you introducing me to just your male friends, or some women, too?”
“Most of my friends are men, but some of them are women, sure. They’re all very nice, Samantha.”
“And how will you introduce me to these friends?”
“What do you mean? As Samantha. We’re not making up names.” Why were all these questions coming up now?
“No, I mean, are you introducing me as your girlfriend, or your sub?”
“My sub.”
“I see.” She rested her elbow on the window and tapped the back of her hand to her mouth.
Brian could feel his patience wearing thin. “What, that’s not what you want?”
“If it’s what you want, it’s fine. Whatever you choose is fine with me.” She bit the back of her hand, a sure sign of her nervousness.
“For God’s sake, Samantha, what’s bothering you?”
She frowned when she looked at him. “Nothing. Nothing’s bothering me.”
Brian wanted to press the issue, but he was distracted by having to parallel parking the car. As soon as he had turned off the engine, Samantha got out, as if trying to make a quick escape.
“So where is it?” She asked.
Brian came around the car, took her by the elbow, and led her to the narrow door in the nondescript building in front of them. He opened the door quickly, held it open for her, and then pulled it closed as soon as they were through.
There was a foyer, but it was small and dimly lit. The only furniture in the room was a narrow desk, and a cheerful woman sat waiting behind it.
“Hi Brian!” She said, coming around the desk to give him a brief hug. “Long time no see!”
“Hi Lola,” Brian replied, returning the polite squeeze of his shoulders. “How are you?”
“Great! I’m a dungeon monitor tonight. You’ll see me inside in a little while, but for now I’m taking tickets. Who’s your friend?” She eyed Samantha up and down, but in a non-threatening way, and Samantha smiled.
“Hi, I’m–”
“This is Samantha, my sub,” Brian interjected.
Samantha looked at him in confused anger. Brian was looking at Lola, but his features were stony, and Samantha could tell he didn’t want her to say anymore. Deciding quickly, she shut her mouth.
Lola looked from Samantha to Brian and back again. Then she said, “It’s nice to meet you, Samantha. Welcome to Club Sade. I’m sure Brian’s been through the basic rules with you, but if not, they’re posted–well, everywhere. If you have your cell phones with you, make sure to turn them off or set them to vibrate now. Just remember to be polite, don’t push yourself into anyone’s scene, and keep our areas clean.”
“Thank you, Lola,” Samantha said before Brian could reply on her behalf. Brian frowned, and this time, it was Samantha’s turn to look stony.
Lola motioned them toward a set of closed curtains. While they stepped toward it, Brian grabbed Samantha’s hand and locked it into the crook of his elbow.
“Why didn’t you want me to talk?” Samantha hissed as soon as they were out of Lola’s earshot.
“Because you are my sub, and should only speak with permission,” Brian hissed back.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before, that you didn’t want me to talk without permission?”
“Because I didn’t think of it,” he said, his voice low with anger.
His anger was directed at himself. Samantha was right, he should have told her these things long before they left for the party. They should have discussed, in detail, how they would interact as a couple, and with other people, before they had left the house.
But the truth was, Brian hadn’t planned on forcing all these rules and protocols on Samantha before. It was only now that they were here, and he was about to introduce her to his kinky friends, that he wanted to show everyone how wonderfully submissive she could be. He was also feeling a sudden streak of possessiveness, and didn’t want her getting too friendly with his male friends; he wanted to control who spoke to her, and who she spoke to.
He was being an ass, and he knew it. He just didn’t know how to fix the situation, aside from leaving the party altogether, and that was not something he was willing to do.
Maybe he would have been, had he realized Samantha couldn’t tell his anger was self-directed. All she heard was his censure, directed toward her, for her crime of daring to talk. Her arm stiffened atop his elbow, and a frown clouded her features.
Then Brian pulled away the curtain, and all her indignation temporarily evaporated as they entered a different world.
The front open space of the dungeon was large, much larger than Samantha had assumed it would be given the size of the small foyer. But the dim lights, carpeted floor, and gallery furniture spread about gave the space an intimate, mellow feel. The place was crowded with people milling about, most standing in close groups, shoulder to shoulder, or leaning into each other on plush sofas and chairs. Everyone was speaking in hushed tones, and a low ebb of voices filled the room.
Beyond the crowd, Samantha could see a small stage area, and next to it a corner bar where paper cups filled with water were already set up on the counter, waiting for thirsty patrons after some hard play scenes.
Beyond the stage, Samantha saw another set of curtains veiling a dark hallway. She felt safe assuming that was where the play spaces were, where people could go to play on some heavy equipment. St. Andrew’s Crosses, spanking benches, and cages were pretty standard in BDSM dungeons. She wondered what else this dungeon had, what other treasures she had yet to discover.
Nobody was going in or out of that shadowy hallway at the moment. The night was still young.
Brian gave Samantha a second to get used to the dim light and hazy atmosphere, and then he pulled her toward the first group of people. They all turned to look at her as she got closer. Some were in costume; some not. One of the women wore a rich purple corset, a pair of matching silk panties, and nothing else.
“Brian,” one of the men said, nodding their way. “It’s good to see you. It’s been awhile.”
“Yes, it has. I’d like you to meet Samantha, my sub.”
The man raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Your sub? Interesting. Hello, Samantha. I’m Leo.”
Samantha nodded in response. Brian squeezed her hand resting on his elbow, giving her a sign of approval, then introduced her to the rest of the group. They all gave her polite hellos and courteous words of welcome. After a few moments, the women continued to give her curious looks, while the men began to stare at her with open hunger. It was obvious they would have loved to spend more time admiring her enticing body, barely cloaked in her provocative costume. But since Samantha never opened her mouth, the words of welcome soon ran dry, and they could no longer hide their interest in her body under the guise of conversation. Brian moved them on to the next group.
Samantha soon learned exactly how many people Brian knew, and it was a lot. It was obvious he was well established in the community. She had already guessed that, but she wasn’t prepared for the puzzled, and in some cases, downright virulent looks some of the women were giving her. It was as if they couldn’t understand what she was doing on Brian’s arm, acting as his sub. The jealously she saw on many of their faces was obvious. It made Samantha uncomfortable.
Brian brought her to the last group of people, standing all the way by the stage. This time, Samantha did recognize someone.
“Jake,” Brian said, raising his voice over the drum of noise. Jake turned around and took a step back in surprise.
“Brian,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it tonight. But I see you’re not alone.”
“You remember Samantha.” Brian disengaged Samantha’s arm to clap Jake on the back. “Let’s introduce you properly this time. Samantha, this is Jake. You may shake his hand.”
Samantha put her hand out. “It’s nice to see you again, Jake,” she said.
Jake took Samantha’s smooth hand and gave it a squeeze. “And you, Samantha,” he said. “Brian’s told me many good things about you, although I can see now, he has not done you justice.”
“Thank you.” Samantha rewarded Jake’s surprised stare with a wide smile. Jake obviously found her alluring, but it was clear he honored Brian’s claim on her, and would not overstep any boundaries. Samantha could feel the possibility of friendship between them.
“Introduce me, Jake,” the woman standing next to him said. Jake’s eyes broke away from Samantha’s as he looked over at the other woman.
“Samantha, this is Dana.”
Dana put her hand out. Samantha saw her nails were very long, and painted blood red. “It’s nice to meet you, Samantha,” Dana said. Samantha shook Dana’s hand, but with much less warmth. “I was wondering why Brian was staying away for so long. Now I know why: he had his own little plaything at home to keep him busy.”
“Your jealousy is showing, Dana,” Jake said. “Careful, or I might just get offended.”
Dana gave Jake a measured grin. “Do not be offended, Master,” she said. “I was only trying to tell Brian how happy I am to see him back.” She kissed Jake on the cheek, and Jake smiled.
“Master?” Brian said. “Since when is Jake your Master?”
“Since a few days ago,” Jake said. “It’s nothing official, but we wanted to make our relationship more binding. So we’re trying this on for size.”
“So that pretty collar you’re wearing around your neck is not just part of your costume?” Brian asked. Samantha looked closer, and saw that Dana was indeed wearing a thin leather collar around her neck. It was a simple black band, unadorned, and could easily pass for a costume piece.
“Nope,” Dana said. “It’s the slave training collar Master gave me.”
“I guess congratulations are in order,” Brian said, curving his lips. “Good luck, Jake. I wish you all the best with your new play slave.” He clapped Jake on the back again.
“Thanks,” Jake said, looking sheepish. “I should be offering you congratulations on your sub, too. I know it’s different for you, though.” He offered Brian a wide, knowing grin, then winked at Samantha. Samantha looked at Brian for an explanation, wondering what Jake meant by his last statement. But she caught Dana’s eyes instead, and Dana was looking at her with pure venom.
A man standing on the stage began to shush the crowd, and everyone went quiet.
“I’d like to welcome you all to Club Sade’s Royal and Regal Party,” he said. “I see a lot of familiar faces here–and more than a few new ones. If you’re new, please take your time introducing yourself to people around you. I think you’ll find we’re all courteous kinksters here. Even our predators are polite.” There were a few chuckles and guffaws in the crowd. “The show is about to begin, so if you would please find a spot around the stage, our performers would appreciate it. The stage is low, so if I could ask, would the taller people please move to the back so everyone will be able to see.”
Groups dispersed as people began to separate. Dana grabbed Samantha’s hand.
“You men are going to have to move to the back,” she said. “I’ll take Samantha up front.”
Brian gave Samantha a questioning look, but before he could say anything, Jake put his hand on Brian’s shoulder.
“C’mon, tall guy. Let’s move.” He began to pull Brian back, and Brian was swallowed up by the crowd.
“This is a good spot,” Dana said, maneuvering herself, and Samantha, toward the front of the stage. “We’ll be able to see everything.”
“Thank you,” Samantha said through clenched teeth.
“No problem. It’s the least I can do for Brian’s new sub.” She leaned her head in closer to Samantha’s. “You know, I was kind of surprised to hear you’re Brian’s sub. I mean, that’s a big step for Brian, one that he wouldn’t take quickly. How long did you say you two have known each other?”
“A while.” Samantha kept her eyes on the stage, averted from Dana’s.
“Huh. That’s kind of odd, because I’ve known Brian for a long time, and he’s never mentioned you.”
At that moment, Samantha was rescued by the dungeon lights going out. The crowd applauded as the stage lights came on, and the performers walked onto the stage.
It was a group of three, one man and two women, each dressed to give the allusion of nobility, but with a sexy, kinky air. The man wore tight velvet pants, showing off his thickly muscled thighs. A heavy velvet cape was tied around his neck, dragging along the ground as he walked, and a fake golden crown sat atop his head. But he wore no shirt; his chest was bare, showing off his wide shoulders and narrow waist.
The women, both brunettes, wore matching purple dresses with thin, loose spaghetti straps that barely kept the dresses up their lithe torsos. The shiny material clung to their supple bodies, cinching their waists, flattening their breasts, and squeezing their hips before finally flaring at the thigh. With their made-up faces and strappy high heeled boots, they looked like naughty princesses indeed.
The king began to pace the stage, looking stern. He grabbed a chair from the floor below and dropped it into the middle of the stage with a bang, then plopped down and stretched across it, looking bored. With a motion of his hand, he ordered the two princesses down at his feet.
The girls rushed to do his bidding. But they fought over each other for center spot, pushing, shoving, and finally, throwing each other down. The king stood up and pointed at them, looking stern, and they cowered in a display of fear.
Now the king brought out a flat wooden paddle. The crowd began to “oooh” as the princesses cried and bowed, pantomiming their remorse for their childish behavior.
With a quick motion of his hand, the king ordered the first princess to the chair. Looking anxious, the princess faced the chair and bent down, gripping the armrests for support.
This wasn’t good enough for the king. He pushed her face into the seat of the chair, making her howl. With the toe of his boot, her spread her legs farther apart. The princess whimpered in fear as the crowd waited tensely.
Now the king lifted up the princess’s billowy purple skirt and moved it to the side, revealing to all her bare, round bottom. Giving the audience a wicked smile, the king wiggled his eyebrows and lifted up the paddle. The audience cheered, knowing what was about to come.
Taking his time now, the king circled the tense princess, as if deciding on a good spot to plant himself. The audience leaned in, waiting with anticipation. At last, the King offered the audience one last rascally grin, lifted the paddle, took aim, and swung.
Smack! The paddle hit the princess’s derriere with a loud crack, making the audience jump, then clap. The princess started to stand up as she howled, but the king pushed her back down.
He began to paddle her pale bottom with wide swings of his arm, flattening her creamy skin until a wide crimson blush began to form all over her buttocks. The princess bawled and cursed, but didn’t let go of the armrests. Finally, after one last vicious smack against her ass with the paddle, the king decided she’d had enough, and motioned for her to switch places with her sister. The audience booed, but quieted with the prospect of watching the second princess meet the same fate as her sister.
But the other princess did not come so willingly. After seeing the treatment her sister had just received, she was not so amenable to having her bottom heated. When the king motioned her a second time to take her place against the chair, she shook her head vehemently, and jerked her hand away when the the king tried to grab her arm.
But her defiance only served to anger the king. When she refused his order a third time, he grabbed her by both arms, dragged her struggling body to the chair, and physically bent her over it, pushing her face into the seat cushion until she relented and stood still, crying loudly.
Then the king went through the motions once more, lifting up her skirt, finding a good striking distance, and paddling her bottom with sharp, brisk strokes. He alternated his cadence every few seconds to vary the swell of her cries. But to punish her for her previous recalcitrance, he was soon spanking her violently, with quick even rhythm, until the poor princess was sobbing into the chair. Her bottom seemed to glow red under the light.
When he was done, the king pushed the princess to the floor, and with a motion of his hand, ordered her to stay. Then he motioned the other princess, who had been sitting in the corner and watching her sister’s comeuppance with a smile on her face, to come forward, kneel down to her knees, and face her partner. She did so, slowly, a look of dread spreading across her face.
Once the women were sitting on the floor the way the king wanted, they waited tensely, looking back over their shoulders now and then to show the audience the fear in their eyes. The king, wearing a wolfish smile on his lips, took his place between the two quivering women, opened the front of his pants, pulled out his stiff cock, and aimed it forward. The audience cheered as both princesses, acting as one, stretched up to take the king’s royal member in their mouths at the same time. At first, there was a small struggle to see who would get the king’s royal cock first. But having learned their lesson, they began to work together on either side of him, licking, stroking, and tickling his glistening prick with their tongues.
The king closed his eyes and sighed in ecstasy. The audience strained to see what would happen next.
Now the princesses took turns taking his stiffened member into their mouths, sucking him greedily, hollowing out their cheeks as they swallowed him up. Each girl waited her turn for his cock, bearing down with shining face on his royal tool. They both rammed hard cock down their throats, slurping and gulping happily.
After a few minutes of this blissful torture, the king began to twitch, then jerk. A moan escaped his lips, and he grabbed each girl by the back of the head. His cries came to a crescendo as he pulled his wet cock out of the mouth of the girl who had been sucking on it so adeptly with great pulls of her jaws. With a jolt of his hips, he began to come; and as he came, he held the heads of the girls in front of his cock, erupting great jets of come all over their lovely, shiny faces.
The girls opened their mouths to collect his come, but the sticky globs fell over their shimmery features instead, from their foreheads, to their eyes, to their cheeks and chins. The crowd went wild as the king came all over both of them, coating their runny makeup with his warm sperm. The spectators clapped and shouted in approval.
The lights went out, and the audience cheered. When the lights came back on, the performers were gone.
Next to Samantha, Dana asked, “Did you like the show?”
Samantha nodded in response. The show had been amazing, but it was now over, and she was still stuck by Dana’s side. Where was Brian?
“So how did you meet Brian again?” Dana asked, her voice sweet.
Samantha gave her a pointed stare. “How did you?” She asked.
Dana looked away evasively, but smiled as if lost in memory. “Oh, Brian and I have known each other for a long time. A long time.”
“Really? So you two are close friends?”
Dana’s smile faded. “No, not friends…but we used to play, a lot. Brian came here all the time, and I was the one he sought out…until recently.”
“I see. Well, I’m sorry if you feel I’ve taken your play partner away from you, Dana,” Samantha said, making a show of sympathy. “It’s too bad having a new Master is not a good enough replacement for you.”
“Oh, Jake’s enough for me, don’t worry about that,” Dana said, her laughter forced. “And it’s not like you’ve taken Brian away from me completely. I’m sure he and I will still get to play sometimes.”
Samantha stilled. “Why would you think that? I’m his sub now.”
Dana chuckled, sensing Samantha’s weak spot and moving in for the kill. “Yes, you are his sub, but that doesn’t mean he won’t play with anyone else, does it? A man like Brian needs more than one woman to keep him satisfied. You didn’t think you would be able to keep him all to yourself, did you?”
As Dana laughed, Samantha recoiled.
At that moment, Brian and Jake showed up. They looked from Samantha’s frozen expression to Dana’s tipped back and giggling face.
“What’s going on here?” Brian asked, looking at Samantha. It was Dana who answered.
“Oh, I was just cluing Samantha in on a few things,” she said. She put her arm around Jake’s waist and looked up at him innocently. “Master, would you like to take me down to the playroom now? That show got me in the mood for some play.”
“Absolutely.” Jake’s eyes grew bright. “Brian, are you taking Samantha down, as well?”
“Yes.” Brian took hold of Samantha’s hand. To her, he said, “Let me go show you the rest of the dungeon.”
Samantha resisted. She didn’t move right away when Brian pulled her, and he turned back to give her a questioning look.
“Is my sub trying to defy me?” He asked, looking stern. Then he leaned in to whisper into her ear. “Don’t be afraid, my Sam,” he said. “Trust me.” His warm breath hitting her skin made her shiver. He looked into her eyes, and Samantha melted. She gave him a tiny nod. He smiled, and this time, when he pulled toward the closed curtains, she let him.
The curtains hid a large open play space. The area was smaller than the front room where they had just come from, but it had many doors, and by some of the glimpses she managed to catch through some of those opened doors, Samantha understood they were more private areas to play.
The open play space had crosses, benches, suspension bars, cages, and some other equipment and apparatuses Samantha had never seen before. Some of the equipment was already in use, but much of it was still empty, as if crying out for a person to be tied down or locked in.
“So what are you going to do with your sub?” Jake asked Brian.
“I think I’ll get her over the barrel,” Brian answered as he looked across the room. “The barrel” he spoke of was just that, a big round barrel sitting on its side, welded down so it wouldn’t go anywhere. Cuffs were already attached to chains welded to the barrel, and more cuffs and chains snaked out from the floor next to it.
“On her back, or on her belly?” Jake asked, sounding eager. His arm around Dana’s waist squeezed, and Dana squeaked.
“On her belly,” Brian said. “I’ll mark up her ass.” He smiled at Samantha, like a cat about to play with its toy mouse.
Samantha didn’t move. She looked at the barrel with longing, but couldn’t bring herself to step toward it. It looked so tempting: she had never been worked over a barrel before, and the thought of it made her wet between her thighs. At the same time, Dana’s words from before were still stuck in her head, making her worry, making her dwell…making her resist a trip into subspace.
“Brian,” she whispered. “Sir.” Brian brought his ear to her lips. “I need to use the ladies room.”
Brian snorted. “Is that what the problem is,” he said, shaking his head. “Come, I’ll take you to the bathroom.”
“I can take her.” Lola had come up behind Samantha, and had caught the end of Brian’s comment. “I was about to go that way, anyway. My shift is about to start.”
“Thank you Lola,” Brian said.
“No problem. C’mon, sweetie.” Lola started walking away, and Samantha followed, grateful to have a moment of semi-privacy. People said hello to her as she walked by, and Samantha smiled and waved back, but she didn’t stop to talk.
Lola led her back through the hallway curtains and almost all the way to the front foyer before she pointed to a door hidden in the corner, shrouded in darkness. “That’s a bathroom,” she said. “There’s another couple next to it, you just can’t see them from here. But if that one’s taken, you can try one of the others.”
“Thanks, Lola.”
“No problem. Hey, are you okay?”
Samantha had begun to sweat, and beads of perspiration were covering her upper lip. “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m just nervous.”
Lola smiled. “I can understand that. Playing with Brian would make any woman nervous. But he is your Dom, so I’m sure he’ll take extra good care of you. Brian is one of our more ruthless sadists, but he’s also known for taking good care of his bottoms, and giving them good aftercare.”
“Is he?” Samantha said weakly. “He has quite the reputation, doesn’t he? He plays with a lot of women.”
“Oh, yes. Brian is in high demand around here. But I’m sure you of all people can understand why, being his sub and all.”
“Yes. I understand. Thank you.” Samantha knocked on the bathroom door, tested the knob, and opened it. Then she walked inside and quickly locked the door behind her.
After splashing some cold water on her neck, Samantha closed the toilet cover and sat down on it to think. The only problem was, she didn’t know what to think…or what to do.
Dana was obviously behaving like a vindictive bitch. It was possible she had only said what she did to unsettle Samantha, and cause strife between her and Brian. The problem was, it had worked. Samantha did not feel like playing anymore.
What bothered her more was the suspicion Dana had not been lying at all, but was telling Samantha the truth.
Samantha stewed in the bathroom for another few minutes before finally deciding she was acting ridiculous. Brian was her boyfriend and her Dom. He was proud of her, and happy to be there with her. For God’s sake, he had brought her there to show her off, not play with someone else! He was waiting for her in the other room, waiting to whip her over a barrel! She was not going to let Dana, or anyone else, ruin her night.
Samantha ran her fingers under her eyes to fix her makeup, gave her hair one last lift, and left the bathroom.
Getting back to the play space took some doing. The dungeon was still crowded, and now tops were on the prowl, looking for bottoms. More than a few men gave Samantha lewd inquisitive looks, but Samantha looked down and kept walking. She wished now she had a collar around her own neck, so people would know she was taken, and hopefully leave her alone. She made a mental note to herself to discuss the idea with Brian when they got home.
But when she got back to the open play space, Brian was not where she had left him. Jake and Dana were gone from the spot, too. Samantha walked to the barrel, thinking maybe he was waiting for her there, but another couple was making use of it, and ignored her completely.
“Samantha.” She heard Jake’s voice calling her. “Over here.”
Samantha looked to her right and saw Jake motioning her over. But she didn’t see Brian, at least not right away. He was a bit farther to Jake’s side, and he had his back to her.
Samantha stopped in her tracks when she realized what he was doing. All the blood drained from her face.
Brian was whipping Dana. She was cuffed to one of the St. Andrew’s Crosses, gasping and moaning, as Brian was whipping her with an easy rhythm. Samantha came forward to gaze at Brian’s profile: even from the side, she could see the intent look on his face. He was completely engrossed in what he was doing. He was also smiling.
“He’s good at what he does, isn’t he?” Jake whispered in Samantha’s ear. But Brian heard, and turned to see who Jake was talking to. When he saw Samantha, he lowered his hand holding the whip and took a step toward her, concerned. Samantha was staring at him, pale and stricken.
“Samantha? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He passed the whip to Jake. Both men looked at her, worry covering their faces.
Samantha couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes. “No, I am not okay,” she said. “I am very far from okay. I would like to go home.”
“What happened? Samantha, for God’s sake,” Brian said, trying to keep up with her. Samantha had started to make her way out of the play space and out of the dungeon. Once in the foyer, Brian managed to catch up with her and spin her around. “Samantha, talk to me. What happened?”
“You were whipping Dana,” Samantha choked.
“Yes, that’s true…Jake asked me to show him some of my techniques, and Dana didn’t mind–”
“No, I’m sure Dana didn’t mind. I’m sure she’d love it if you showed Jake all of your techniques on her. And why shouldn’t you? I’m just your sub, after all. I have no hold on you. Why don’t you go back and play with Dana some more? Or find someone else to play with? I hear all the women line up to get a feel of your work firsthand.” She jerked out of Brian’s hold, and Brian grabbed her back.
“Samantha, I have no idea what the fuck this is about, but we are going to talk about this–”
“There is nothing to talk about. Dana spelled it out for me, and you just gave me a clear demonstration.”
“Dana spelled what out for you? What the fuck did she tell you? Samantha, Dana and I were never a couple. I’ve never even taken her on a date!”
“But you played with her. You fucked her.”
“Yes. That’s true. That was the extent of our relationship.”
“And is that what you and I have? Just a play relationship? Nothing serious, no strings attached?”
“What? No, of course not, Jesus Samantha–”
“I don’t know if I can believe that right now.” She walked out the door. Once she was out of the building, she ran to Brian’s car. Brian followed behind, pressing the button to unlock the door so Samantha could get in. As soon as they were both buckled in, he peeled out into the street. It was late, and there was not another car in sight.
“Samantha, I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, but we are going to talk about this. I’m taking us home, and we will sit down and talk–”
“You’re taking me to my home. I’m not going to your home.”
“Samantha, I am telling you right now–”
“Jasmine, Brian. I call jasmine. I want to go home.”
Brian went silent, shocked. For a moment, he looked at a loss for words. “That’s not fair, Samantha. You’re safewording for the wrong reasons.”
“I don’t care what you think,” Samantha answered. “I want to go home. I’m done. Please, Brian, take me home.” She began to cry.
They sat in silence for the rest of the drive. Brian kept giving her sideways glances, looking scared and confused…but he said nothing. There was nothing he could say. Samantha had safeworded. He was duty-bound to take her home.
Samantha pressed her head against the window and tried to get her tears under control.
As soon as Brian coasted into her driveway, Samantha unbuckled and jumped out. Brian got out, too, but Samantha ran to her front door, away from him.
Brian tried one last time. “Samantha, please,” he called. “We need to talk.”
“No, Brian.” She pushed open the door, turned around, and said, “I can’t. I can’t do this. This is not what I wanted when I gave you my consent.”
She shut the door in his face.
Brian could hear her crying on the other side.
