She moved toward it and spread her legs wide. She lifted her arms and tried to remain still while he secured her to the structure.
Most doms were anxious to get her tied up and to beat her. He prolonged everything. There wasn’t a nerve ending that wasn’t on edge. Every movement made her breasts hurt.
This man knew how to make her submit.
He stood in front of her so that she looked him in the eye. “Pull back,” he told her.
She could barely move. “That’s as far as it’s possible, Sir.”
“Good. Good. How are you doing? Is anything outrageously uncomfortable?”
“I’m fine, Sir. I’m stretched pretty far, but it’s nothing unbearable.”
“Do keep that in mind,” he told their audience. “When you’re working with someone like Alani who is petite, even using a cross or spanking bench can be terribly uncomfortable, even dangerous. Think through everything. Keep your mind on your sub and not your own desires. Yes, I know, that’s easy in thought, but when you’ve got a hard-on, it’s a different story.”
That drew another round of chuckles.
He turned his attention back to her. Alani couldn’t think of anything she liked more. She wanted to be alone with him, to touch him, to have him fuck her hard and deep. She took a couple of breaths, trying to remain present.
“Is your pussy wet?” he asked unexpectedly.
She closed her eyes. “Yes, Sir.”
“Speak up so the class can hear you.”
“Yes, Sir. My pussy is wet.”
“Good. Open your eyes. I want you aware of everything that’s happening here.”
She did.
“Subs oftentimes get lost in their own minds. It’s up to you, the dom, to either allow them to surrender to the sensations or to keep them present. Many subs depend on the sound of your voice to keep them grounded. Of course, you can go back and forth. Just be deliberate in what you do. Alani, I’ve decided to remove your thong.”
She instinctively tried to pull away but couldn’t.
He took a pair of medical scissors from the drawer and cut the material neatly. The silk fluttered to the floor. “You’ve got a beautiful cunt, Alani. I think I’ll always keep you exposed like this.”
His masterful treatment made her feel even more like his woman.
He moved in front of her again. He tugged on the chain hanging from her breasts, then trailed his palm down her body. He made a fist and then extended two fingers. “Where are these fingers going, Alani?”
Since her ass was full and his hand was below her waist, she made a guess. “In my vagina, Sir?”
“Let’s be a little more direct. Where are these fingers going, Alani?”
“In my cunt, Sir?”
“Correct.”
She jerked as he penetrated her. God, she wanted a release, wanted him. This, this was the experience she’d wanted her whole life.
“You’re hot, sub.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m wet for you.”
Exerting a bit of pressure, he pulled her just a bit closer to him. His bondage was exquisite, restricting her movements.
“What do you want, sub?”
She wanted to shout out that she wanted him to yank on her chain, beat her back, buttocks, and thighs mercilessly, press that damnable finger against her G-spot and give her a screaming orgasm. Instead she said, “Whatever pleases Sir.”
Several people clapped.
As much as she was able, she ground herself against his hand.
“You’re not being very submissive, Alani.”
She sagged against her bonds. “Sorry, Sir.”
“You will come when I say you can come, and only when I say you can come. Do not try to steal an orgasm from me.”
She hung her head. “Sorry, Sir.”
“Some subs are shameless hussies,” he said. “They’ll hump your leg like a naughty dog if you let them.”
He continued to manipulate her with his hand, inserting one, then two, then three fingers, stretching her and pressing against her G-spot. He feathered his thumb pad across her clit.
She clenched her insides. She surrendered to the bonds, letting them take her entire weight. She felt the rigidity of the plug moving inside her. She was coming undone from the inside out.
Her legs trembled with the agony of trying to hold back her orgasm.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“Do not come.”
She felt the tendrils inside her. She wanted to come, needed to come…
Abruptly he pulled away his hand.
She choked out a sob. “You’re pleasing me, Alani. Very much.”
He kept his voice low, soothing. It almost put her in a hypnotic trance. As much as she wanted release, she wanted to make him happy. The paradox perplexed her.
“How does the plug feel?”
“It makes me feel full, Sir.”
“And how are your nipples?”
“Numb, Sir.”
He nodded. “Generally I don’t require my subs to wear nipple clamps for long periods of time. There are certain kinds that are for decorative purposes, and your sub can wear those for hours. There’s nothing like pretty tit jewels. Even for our male subs. Maybe especially for our male subs, if you want him to look pretty for you.”
“Good idea,” a woman shouted. “I’ll get Burt a pair. Pink roses.”
People laughed at poor Burt’s expense.
Master Nathaniel knelt in front of Alani. Before she figured out what he intended, he’d spread her thighs with his large, work-roughened hands and leaned in to lick her pussy. He sucked her clit into his mouth. The pressure was too much… Instead of incredible pleasure, it was pain.
But when he released her, she nearly came.
Her pussy was drenched. Her ass throbbed.
“Oftentimes,” he said, standing to address their audience, “we’ve trained our submissives to answer questions a certain way. For example, we may ask a sub if she prefers a spanking or a paddling. And our sub will say, ‘Whatever you want, Sir.’ But there are times we truly want to know their preferences. After all, dominance and submission are both give and take.”
She heard murmurs of assent.
Her tall, dark dom moved in front of her and captured her gaze. “What do you want me to do to you, Alani? And answer the question.”
“Please, Sir, please. Beat me.”
Nathaniel wanted nothing more.
When AJ had called to ask if he’d fill in tonight, Nathaniel’s first reaction had been hell no. To him, BDSM was a private thing between him and his sub. He didn’t want or need an audience, even an appreciative one.
But the opportunity to play with Alani definitely appealed, and now he was glad he’d agreed.
She responded perfectly to him. He’d called her a painslut more than once. He was learning he liked that about her. She wasn’t a delicate flower, no matter how she appeared to be.
She appealed to the baser side of his nature. In fact, she brought it out. Around her, his primal urges flared. Problem was, if he weren’t careful, he would put his hand in that glorious mane of hair and drag her back to his lair.
Seeing her strapped to the cross, her nipples clamped, her ass stretched by a plug, suffering for him, looking at him with open, trust-filled eyes made his cock harden. After this was over, he had no idea how he’d last until he got her home. Maybe he’d need to take the edge off with a quick trip to the men’s room?
He ignored his erection and moved behind her. “As you know,” he said to the darkened room, “you can strap a sub to the cross either this way or by having him or her faced away from the cross. I prefer this way as I’ve found it makes it easier to lash both the front and back.”
Alani shuddered delicately.
She hurt, no doubt about it, but she apparently loved every moment of it. When he’d put his hand between her legs, he was surprised by how wet she was. He’d expected her to be damp, but the amount of moisture had surprised and delighted him. “Would it be easier for you if you were gagged?” he asked.
“If it’s Sir’s pleasure.”
“It’s my preference to hear your moans and screams.”
A few people cheered. Voyeurs and sadists.
Much like him.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Keep in mind, if you gag a sub and you generally play with a safe word, you need to let your sub choose a safe signal. A sub who is freaking out on the cross will never get into the right mind-set,” he said, remembering this was a class. “You’re okay, Alani?”
She nodded.
“Please speak so everyone can hear.”
“Yes, Sir, I’m fine.”
He almost heard what was unsaid.
Just get on with it already.
That’s what he wanted too. They were scheduled to appear for a full hour. And he needed to make sure the class lasted a bit longer.
When he’d agreed to do the public scene with Alani, he hadn’t intended to send her to subspace. Now, there was nothing he wanted more. “Before we get started, I’d be remiss if we didn’t discuss aftercare. Not all subs think they need it. In fact not all doms believe it’s necessary. You need to find what works best for your individual relationship. But you do need to have some sort of connection when the scene is over.” Alani hadn’t necessarily wanted that last night. He sensed she would have rather been left alone, and that’s precisely why he’d held her and helped her dress.
He’d probably screwed up by not calling her earlier in the day.
But last night had affected him too. “Discussion is often appropriate,” he said. “Taking care of welts can be erotic and satisfying. You’ll want to make sure your sub is warm, especially if he or she got sweaty—”
He was interrupted by raucous cheers. He continued, “Consider offering them a drink of water to prevent dehydration. This is true, even if your sub is being punished and even if you’re moving directly onto another punishment.”
He crouched behind Alani and vigorously rubbed her skin, starting with her calves and moving up across her legs, her buttocks, and even her back and shoulders. “Take care when flogging the back, and take an anatomy lesson if needed. Avoid causing damage to internal organs. No one will excuse your lack of education on this.”
The chain that connected her clamps jangled, and she moaned softly.
He swept her hair between his hands and moved the glorious length to one side. He couldn’t wait for it to trail across his naked body as she sucked him off.
Nathaniel gritted his teeth. This was a demonstration. He couldn’t just unfasten her bindings, force her to her knees, and shove his dick down her throat, even if he wanted to do exactly that.
He grabbed the flogger from the side table. He flicked his wrist a few times, making sure he felt the responsiveness from the leather strands. This wasn’t the most brutal flogger he owned, and he understood her skepticism about its bite. Its strands were fairly thick, and it delivered much more of a thuddy pain than a sharp one. But he intended to use it all over her body, and she was already in anguish from the bite of the clamps.
He noticed that she gripped the cross tightly, so he started slowly so that she could relax. “If you’ll notice, as Alani becomes accustomed to the feel, I’ll hit harder. Even if your sub is being punished, easing into it will allow him or her to take more.” There were times, though, like when he had her over his knee in the bar, where a few quick slaps was the most effective punishment, not to mention satisfying. Hearing her yelps and seeing her squirm was its own reward.
Unlike some doms, he believed in exploiting the whole body.
He gently whipped her: legs, buttocks, back, shoulders.
As if in a trance, she continually murmured her thanks.
As he saw her body relax more, he began to increase the frequency and the strength of the blows. “How are you doing, Alani?”
She didn’t answer.
“Alani!”
“Sir?”
“How are you doing?”
“It’s delicious. Sir.”
He rained the leather straps on her body. She jerked and convulsed.
Before he sent her completely deep inside her mind, he moved in front of her. A slight smile curved her lips. “Open your eyes.” The serenity on her face mesmerized him. Painslut was right.
If it had just been the two of them, he’d have continued the beating he started. But he wanted to demonstrate one more thing. “I’m going to whip your breasts, Alani.”
She winced, almost imperceptibly. If he hadn’t been paying attention, he would have missed it.
But gamely, like the perfect little sub—
his
perfect little sub—she said, “Yes, Sir. Please whip my breasts, Sir.”
He stepped back, far enough to wield the flogger with great accuracy.
He caught the tops of her beautiful breasts with all the strands. She gasped.
“More?”
“Please, Sir.”
With each hit, the clamps jerked and tugged.
She drank in quick bursts of air.
“Surrender to it, Alani,” he encouraged. “Quit fighting the pain.”
The audience had fallen silent.
The only sounds were from the leather striking flesh, the metal jangle of the clamps, and her labored breathing.
He continued to flog her. Her grip on the cross loosened. She closed her eyes. He saw her head drift to one side to rest on her right shoulder. She’d stopped struggling. She’d given him what he asked for: her surrender.
He increased the pressure, crisscrossing her torso with his strokes. He caught her clamped nipples, the chain, and the weights hanging down. He turned her beautiful bronzed skin delicate pink, and he’d raised tiny welts.
Her gasps became moans, and he smelled the heat of her arousal. Her face was totally relaxed; her lips were parted slightly. Her arms appeared limp, and she’d released her grip on the cross.
A sheen of perspiration glistened under the lights. Her hair hung around her in a riotous, alluring invitation.
She no longer appeared to be aware of anything.
He’d never known anyone to reach subspace so quickly.
His cock was hard; he wanted to be buried inside her. She was exquisite in her pain.
He changed his position so he could finger her pussy while he whipped her. He kept up the intensity even as he stroked her clit.
She opened her eyes for a second but then closed them again, much like someone who’d been disturbed during sleep.
“You may come,” he said quietly.