Authors: Joey W. Hill
unexpected flash flood when
he’d done three, blissful y slow
strokes. “Master…” She
gasped it out on instinct. They’d
never talked about rules,
she realized. They just knew, she just
knew, what she
needed…wanted.
“May I… Please let me come!”
He held his silence, pushing in,
dragging out, thrusting,
working her faster, then slow, and
she became desperate,
crying out for the permission.
“Please…please…Master.”
The heat was sweeping over her,
pussy spasming, and in
another second she’d be in breach of
the obedience her
Master should demand from her,
never to release without
his permission. “Help…can’t…”
“Now, Rachel. Come for your
Master. For me alone.”
That sense of disorientation, of being
lost on a turbulent
tide of sensation and the col ective
desires of those around
her took over, swept her up and over,
and she was at the
hub of it, held by Jon’s sure, steady
grip. As she was pul ed
away into sensation, her last coherent
thought was that the
pil ory, the environment, the men,
even the presence of the
other K&A women, was an ultimate
organic device
engineered by him, a Master whose
wil she was helpless
to resist. She was lost in a rushing
river, dependent on him
to guide that narrow boat through the
roaring waters.
She was screaming again, this time
shrieking like a
banshee, lost to al of it, her ass
squeezing down on the
plug as she lifted to meet his every
thrusting stroke, as he
began to slam hard into her, mixing
the pain that lingered
with a pleasure that wouldn’t be
denied. His hands
captured her breasts and squeezed the
nipples, and that
additional sensation rocketed her
higher. She was straining
back and forth against her restraints,
feeling everywhere his
remarkably ful y clothed body was
touching her, wanting to
serve him, devour him, hold him…
It was too much. Something broke
inside of her, that
concrete dam that had suppressed her
emotions, pain and
loss, disappointment…crushing
loneliness. It rushed over
her, driven over the wal by the
unstoppable force of that
climax and al that it meant, al that she
could no longer
deny. There would be no rebuilding
that wal , no matter what
happened. She was naked, shivering
and vulnerable,
protected from whatever came
howling toward her by one
man. One Master’s love.
That sense of timelessness again,
such that on the
downward slide, she found herself
blinking hazily, as if
she’d come out of a long journey into
a fantastical place,
and reality was hard to comprehend.
But on the downward
slide of that incredible climax, she
met Savannah’s gaze.
There she once again saw
understanding. Comprehension
of the panic and ecstasy, al wound
together, a restraint
even more frightening than physical
bonds. Rachel grayed
out some then, because the rush of
blood, the quivering of
nerves and limbs, overcame her. But
when she phased
forward in that hazy dream state,
those three beautiful
women had risen from their places at
the bar.
With Cass guiding Dana, they were
winding their way
around the edge of the crowd until
they reached the
platform. There, Lucas and Ben gave
them a hand up,
Peter and Matt bringing up the rear.
As they did, Jon
touched kisses al along the curve of
her spine. Some of
her hair had come down in the front
during her thrashing
like a feral creature. It wisped along
her cheeks, over her
eyes. He’d caressed it to the side
when he kissed her
neck. But now he was withdrawing,
his hands lingering on
her hips, giving her a squeeze before
his touch
disappeared. For a harrowing
moment, she was alone with
the crowd, no familiar faces before
her or in her peripheral
vision.
Then female hands stroked the hair,
finger-combed it out
of her face, helped to re-secure it
with the pins and sticks
she’d used. Rachel saw it was Cass,
her generous bosom
smel ing like a jasmine fragrance as
she leaned over
Rachel. Dana had a soft cloth, and
wiped her face, the
tears and remaining saliva. Pressing
her lips to Rachel’s
temple, she moved behind her, fol
owing the line of her
spine and hip with her slim fingers
until she located the
base of the anal plug and eased it out.
A third hand,
Savannah’s, Rachel assumed,
pressed on her lower back,
a reassurance as it was removed.
She didn’t see Jon, but she could
feel
him. He’d stepped
back, letting them cosset her, and
with al her senses so
open and vulnerable, she thought she
understood why. This
had been a punishment, and he was
letting the lesson sink
in by giving other submissives the
role of her aftercare.
They would comfort and soothe, but
he would wait to do so
until she did what every instinct told
her she was supposed
to do.
It was hard, so hard, yet every
emotional y exhausted
fiber of her knew she would do it.
However, she truly
needed this moment first. As Cass
and Dana gently and
efficiently cleaned between her legs
and buttocks, ran
damp, heated cloths down her legs,
over her skin,
grounding her in this world once
again, Savannah came to
her front, stroked her face. In her bent
position, Rachel’s
head was at the level of Savannah’s
breasts, the lace
edges of the bra and curves partial y
revealed by the button
Matt had slipped. Stil bound, Rachel
raised her gaze to the
woman’s face.
Savannah gave her a nod, then slid
her arms around
Rachel’s shoulders, letting her put
her face against that
perfumed bosom, take comfort in the
softness, the
understanding, the calm over the
storm. Her hands were
cool and strong, everything she
needed them to be.
Final y, her arms and legs were
uncuffed. She tried to
hold her own weight, but of course
she was stil trembling
too badly. As the three women held
her, she had one
rasping word on her lips.
“Jon.”
Savannah turned her toward him, her
arm around
Rachel’s bare waist. He stood a few
feet away, studying
her with those quiet intent eyes, the
way he’d so often
studied her during class. She moved
one foot forward, but
now Cass stopped her. Dana knelt,
urging her out of the
first stiletto, then the other. Now she
stood on bare soles,
completely naked, except for the col
ar he’d put on her. A
proper slave.
They wouldn’t let her move forward
without their help. The
pressure of her forward motion told
them where she wanted
to go, though, so she was leading.
When she reached him,
her knees let go. They slowed it
down, helped her sink in a
control ed movement to a kneeling
position. Then they
stepped back, that space on the stage
becoming a silent
circle for the two of them alone.
Lifting her attention to his beloved
face, Rachel let her
eyes dwel briefly on every feature,
then she swept her gaze
down, bowed her head. “I’m sorry,
Master,” she said softly.
She didn’t have the strength to say it
louder, but it was only
him who needed to hear it. “I’l try…
but I need you to remind
me I’m worth loving. It’s been so
long since…I felt loved. T-
thank you. Please…forgive me. I
need your forgiveness. I’m
so sorry.”
How could she make sense of the
tears that came now,
the fact that she was sorry, and
happy, and sad and
exhilarated, and exhausted? And al
his.
She waited, her gaze on his feet. As
she did, something
else happened. Hands settled on her
shoulders, a male leg
pressing against her bare hip. Peter
bent, tilted her head
back and kissed her on the lips,
offering a quick stroke of
her face with a tender hand. The cool
judgment she’d seen
when he sat in the chair was gone.
What was there now
was heat and comfort at once,
protective and kind. Then he
put pressure on her shoulder and
neck, directing her to
return her gaze to the floor. As he
stepped away it was
Lucas taking his place, lifting one of
her hands to kiss it,
fondle the fingers, teasing her chin up
for one brief second
to give her a nod, show her the
acceptance in his gaze as
wel before he stepped back.
This time her gaze returned to the
floor on its own,
understanding what was required.
Ben’s knuckles slid
down her spine, giving her a shiver
as he probed between
her buttocks, that opening that had
burned when he first slid
the plug in. Then his mouth touched
her nape, a nip and a
“Wel done”, before he too was gone.
She was hungering for some word
from Jon, some
indication that she’d met his
approval, but she couldn’t deny
how overwhelming this was. As wel
as a little scary, the
ramifications of being accepted in
such a way, the
responsibility. There was no going
back from this, no
retreat, because Jon now had enough
people to surround
her ful y. And while none of them
could stare into the depths
of her soul the way Jon could, they al
understood her in a
way that was too hard to resist.
Her chin was lifted once more and
now Matt Kensington
squatted in front of her, studying her
with dark,
unfathomable eyes, his hand strong
and sure on her face.
He didn’t say anything, just held her
in that gaze. With a
hard lurch in her chest, she
recognized it for what it was, a
moment like an ancient tribal ritual.
The leader didn’t need
to say anything. He was making a
point of looking at her, of
showing the others in the pack that he
saw
her. He
accepted her. And she’d never be
without family again.
The realization became something so
difficult to contain,
her fingers tightened on her knees.
She needed Jon so
badly she didn’t think she could
breathe another second
without him. And then Matt was gone
and he was there, her
Master.
She stared at his feet, directly in front
of her. She wanted
to surge up, wrap her arms around
him, have him hoist her
body up and let her cling to him with
arms and legs like a
child, but she waited on the knife-
edge, the most painful
thing she’d done so far. She was lost,
uncertain, and only
he could save her.
His long-fingered hands came into
the scope of her
vision first, closing on her hands and
lifting them. Then he
brought her gaze up to him as he
squatted, flanking her with
his knees. As he kissed each palm,
his gaze dwel ed on
her. She didn’t know what to cal
what she saw in his face. It
was love, yes, she couldn’t deny it,
but there was more. For
this one second she truly believed
she was the most
important thing in his life. A sense of
utter belonging and
possession wrapped around her,
making her feel more
warm, safe and loved than she’d ever
felt in her entire life.
“Forgiven,” he said. “Completely
and forever.”
* * * * *
Because she was stil so shaky, and
the showers and
changing rooms were on a lower
level, he carried her, the
others making a path for him through
the crowd. When he
reached the shower area, however,
he left her with
Savannah, Cass and Dana, giving her
a quiet smile,
caressing her face. The women
tugged her floating, dazed
self into a private but spacious
shower stal . With a lot of
strokes and kisses, they helped wash
so many things away,
leaving only the things that mattered.
Comfort turned in time to playfulness,
and it amazed her