Part 14 (1/2)
”I suppose I shouldn't be surprised it's not very busy right now.” She glanced around at the spa.r.s.ely populated s.p.a.ce. Most of the play areas looked like sets for a production that weren't in use. ”It is a Monday afternoon, so most people should still be at work.”
He laughed and continued to guide her around the long, circular hallway to the opposite side of the floor from the locker room. He stopped next to a scene with a bondage bed, a tall spanking bench, and a St. Andrew's cross, along with several overhead bars and chains to hook D rings into for various purposes and a large blue toy bag lying on a table nearby. A fresh surge of moisture dampened her panties at the thought of what play Master Brent might have in store for her today.
”You'd be surprised when people flock to the Club.” He ran one large finger over her shoulder and down her back nearly to the top globes of her a.s.s. A wave of goose b.u.mps flowed over her, bringing a rush of erotic heat. ”There are some Mondays that end up being busier than Friday or Sat.u.r.day nights.”
She shook her head as her mind finally caught up with the fact that Master Brent was unaware of the erotic maelstrom he'd set off inside her with that simple touch and was continuing his response to what she had said. If she kept drowning in arousal and pleasure, she might never be able to think straight again. A smile curved her lips at the thought. What a wonderful way to lose her mind.
He ran his hand down the back of her silky nightie and farther to stroke over the sensitive skin of her a.s.s. ”Do you trust me to take care of you, Sandra?”
She turned to face him, meeting his gaze and reading the intensity and the antic.i.p.ation there. ”Yes, Master Brent. I do trust you.” She waited for any signal from her body that she didn't entirely mean that, but none came. Only a sense of rightness and antic.i.p.ation. She smiled up at him.
He nodded once, his handsome face promising wonderful pleasures she could only guess at. ”Take off the nightie and anything else you don't want ripped off. We're pretty removed from the main part of the floor, so we should have privacy for our scene.” He caressed her cheek, sending warmth through her as if she'd swallowed a nice, smooth shot of whiskey.
”Step on the stool in front of the spanking bench and bend over it so your a.s.s is in the air and at my mercy, and those beautiful b.r.e.a.s.t.s are hanging down on the other side.”
The muscles across her shoulders tightened as instinctive fear sliced through her. It took her a long moment to battle it back and remind herself that this was Master Brent and not Diego. She'd told him she trusted him, and she meant it. Before she could overthink things, she quickly stripped off the nightie and the small thong panties, and squared her shoulders.
Through sheer willpower, she put one foot in front of the other until she was close enough to step up onto the wide stool in front of the spanking bench. The step up brought her high enough so she could bend over the comfortably padded bench that supported her from the crease above her thighs to just under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Most of the benches she'd seen were lower so the Dom could sit and bend his sub over his knee for spanking or other punishments. These taller ones were usually about penetration or some type of more intense play.
Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s hung down over the side and she cupped them, suddenly self-conscious about their size and weight.
Master Brent's voice sounded from close beside her, making her jump.
”Stretch your arms out in front of you and wrap your hands around the bar.” His voice held quiet confidence, and she thrilled at having all of that intensity trained solely on her.
She raised her head so she could see the bar he'd mentioned and then stretched out her arms so she could wrap her fingers around it. She had to rest her full weight on the bench beneath her to get her hands around the smooth, wooden bar, which left her b.r.e.a.s.t.s hanging free. It wasn't painful or even uncomfortable, but it did leave her feeling very exposed.
Master Brent pulled a length of blue rope from a toy bag nearby. The rope was the same blue as her nightie had been and her p.u.s.s.y clenched at the thought of what he was going to use it for.
She was surprised when he began wrapping the rope around her wrists and then tethering it to the rings that went through the bar. Master Scott had always used soft restraints, which were easier to secure than rope, and Diego had used manacles or pure fear to keep her in place.
”Sandra,” Master Brent said as he secured first one wrist and then the other. ”These should be tight but not uncomfortable. They are to keep you from moving or using your hands while the scene is in progress, but there shouldn't be any pain involved. You need to let me know if they are uncomfortable or painful in any way. You will never be punished for telling me, no matter what it interrupts.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek in a sweet gesture that sent warmth surging through her.
”Remember what I told you. I need to have all of that information so I can choose the best things for both your highest pleasure and your well-being during our scenes.”
”Yes, sir,” she answered without thinking.
Treating Master Brent as her Dom had become second nature in only a few days. It felt so natural, she wondered where she would be right now if he had been her first Dom. She would always appreciate Master Scott for taking on a very insecure and totally inexperienced sub. But going through what she did with Diego after feeling abandoned by Master Scott hadn't helped her develop as a sub.
She frowned. She knew Master Scott hadn't had a choice. His job hadn't given him any. It was relocate or lose his job. But she accepted the fact that she had felt abandoned, and until this moment had even put part of the blame for the entire Diego episode firmly in Master Scott's lap. She realized in a quick flash of insight that in a way she had kept hoping Master Scott would rush back and ”save” her from Diego, which was why she had waited as long as she had to run.
In hindsight, after all she'd been through, both the good and the bad, she was surprised she was here in another dungeon. Not only comfortable with a very strong Dom, but also excited to be exactly where she was.
Master Brent interrupted her thoughts when his large hand closed over her ankle. She jumped, and he smoothed his hand down the back of her calf.
”Stay with me, Sandra. Keep your focus on the here and now. Because of your previous experiences, it's always going to be a temptation to think about the past and compare it with now. I know it's difficult, but keep your thoughts on enjoying every second of what's going on in the current moment.”
He pressed a kiss against the back of her calf and she gasped. ”Let the pleasure build through you. Our scenes start when I meet you in the locker room. From that moment forward you are mine until the completion of aftercare. And I am yours.”
Master Brent's words thrilled her. She liked the thought of him being hers until aftercare was completed, and she also liked the thought of belonging to him for that duration, although she wouldn't mind it being longer.
He skimmed his palm up the back of her other thigh, and she sighed as his lightly callused hand skittered sensations along her nerve endings that shot straight up her legs and settled between her thighs.
”Do you want to keep these sandals on for the scene? It won't matter to me either way, but if you thrash or squirm you might lose one or both, and we won't be stopping the scene to put them back on.”
Since she could bet she would be thras.h.i.+ng and squirming, she said, ”Off, sir.” She slid her toes out of the sandals, and Master Brent took them and replaced each foot against the stool, which was lined with slightly ribbed hard rubber. For traction, she supposed, which made her smile. But it wasn't uncomfortable against her bare feet.
Master Brent applied pressure against the inside of her calves and she widened her stance for him until he slid what felt like a spreader bar between her ankles and then wrapped more rope around her ankles to secure her to the bar and keep her legs apart. In this position, she was truly vulnerable and open to anything Master Brent wanted to do to her.
She waited for the instinctive fear or dread, but only a swift wave of arousal and antic.i.p.ation washed over her.
”Are you all right, Sandra?” Master Brent rubbed his hand over one a.s.s cheek while he waited for her answer.
”Yes, sir. I feel a bit exposed and vulnerable, but it's exciting.”
Master Brent traced his fingers down the backs of her thighs, making her gasp. ”I'm glad. But we're far from done.”
He walked around the table toward his bag and pulled out some kind of small plastic bottle. Lube? She heard the slight pop of the bottle being opened, and then a musky scent laced with vanilla and some type of citrus filled her senses.
Before she could ask about it, she heard the sound of Master Brent rubbing his hands together briskly and then felt his hot touch against her bare a.s.s.
She sucked in a breath so fast that it hissed between her teeth. His hands against her skin felt divine. It wasn't quite so much a ma.s.sage as it was him rubbing the smooth oil into her skin. Blood rushed to everywhere he touched, making those areas more sensitive. As he stroked and kneaded her a.s.s, she craved more sensation there and arched into his touch, wordlessly begging for more. No matter how much he gave her, she wanted even more.
She couldn't believe she was even contemplating asking him, but then she opened her mouth and let it spill out. ”Master Brent?”
”Yes?” His voice held a note of amus.e.m.e.nt, which made her suspicious.
”I...Would you mind trying some basic swatting?”
Master Brent made a pleased-sounding rumble in his throat a second before she felt a firm swat on her a.s.s where he'd been ma.s.saging. The swat stung, but then those sensations radiated out, joining the fire of her building arousal. She closed her eyes and raised her a.s.s as much as her position would allow.
She was immediately rewarded with another swat. This time the intense new sensory input made her c.l.i.t throb, and she whimpered again before blowing out a long breath.
”You said Master Scott had started to introduce you to some basic swatting and flogging, if I remember correctly.” Master Brent laid one warm hand on her hip. ”But you seemed to flinch on the dungeon floor when you heard the sounds a.s.sociated with those. Are you all right?”
She nodded. ”I didn't like it at all when Master Scott tried to introduce it. I think I had too many hang-ups about my past, and I couldn't see being excited about physical punishment of any kind. But now...”
Master Brent swatted her again and she raised her a.s.s as much as she could.
”Now I think you're finally starting to understand why people come to enjoy impact play. It's just another form of sensation for the body. That slight sting triggers the body to release endorphins, which feel good but also feed into the arousal already building.” He swatted her again and she gave in to a long moan.
She really needed to come, but she knew Master Brent was far from done with her. She didn't want to miss one second of what he had planned for her, so she tried to breathe through the tight frustrations of her body's demands. Master Brent's large, hot hands still rubbing the wonderful-smelling oil into the sensitive skin of her a.s.s wasn't helping her calm the raging need.
”Impact play isn't about being abused or beaten,” he said as he smoothed his hands over the areas he'd swatted. ”It's about using the body's natural responses to build arousal and pleasure so it takes you beyond where you've been before. Like anything else that brings pleasure, it can become addictive.”
Sandra must have made a noise in the back of her throat because a soft, s.e.xy rumble came from Master Brent before he moved his slow ma.s.sage down to her thighs and to the backs of her knees. ”You might be surprised at the things you begin to crave if they're done the right way.”
She nodded her head. Master Brent could make her crave anything he wished, and she looked forward to finding out what was on that list.
He continued his ma.s.sage, avoiding the spots she really wished he would give his attention to-especially with the oil. The wonderful smell of vanilla and citrus filled her senses, and Master Brent's caresses heightened her awareness. He continued his slow attentions to her ankles and feet before moving to her back and shoulders, adding more oil to his hands as needed, and warming it before smoothing it over her body.