HisIndecentBoxSetpub (59 page)

Finally, we reached
a sliding glass door that opened into an expansive backyard. There
was a ring of chairs around a fire pit crowded with people. A cart
sat to the side where a bartender was busy mixing cocktails for the
guests. Toward the back of the yard was a large building with double
doors. Cries of pain and pleasure were coming from inside, so I could
only imagine it was the new dungeon. The smells of fresh paint and
burning wood filled the air, creating a pleasant aroma that mingled
with the sounds of conversation and laughter and sexual noises.

I was especially
timid as we approached the fire pit, sticking close to Damien's side.
Normally, I would have felt awkward wearing something so skimpy, but
many of the other female submissives were dressed similarly. There
were even a few scantily clad male submissives. It was like an all
out fleshfest.

Danica was there, as
well as a few other Doms, Dommes, and submissives that I remembered
seeing at the munch and Damien's dinner party. There were more
unfamiliar faces though. While everyone who knew us welcomed us with
friendly words, Danica was the only one who walked over to give
Damien a hug. She looked me up and down with an approving smile, then
helped us find a place to sit and talk with the others.

I stayed silent,
trying to keep my eyes low but still looking around in my peripheral
vision. Danica was more covered up than usual, wearing a full vinyl
body suit that was zipped down past her cleavage and revealed a
matching vinyl bikini top beneath. Some of the other Dommes were
dressed far more sexily. The majority of skin showing came from the
submissives though.

There was a
surprising number of people in attendance, far more than I had
expected. Not including those in the dungeon, I estimated there were
close to thirty people. All the chatter between them was so loud that
I could barely hear myself think, and I was glad when Damien nudged
for me to stand and follow him away from the group.

“
Let's
go check out the dungeon,” he said.

The building that
Sir Martin called his dungeon was absolutely massive. It looked like
a small warehouse. Lining the walls inside was an assortment of
furniture, most of which I had never seen before and couldn't
identify. Of those I could, there was a bondage table, a stockade,
and a Saint Andrew's cross. Surprisingly, there were almost as many
people inside the dungeon as there had been outside, both
participants and voyeurs, and all the furniture was in use.

Damien pulled me
into an unoccupied corner of the room and set his duffle bag down.
“Are you ready?” he asked.

I wanted to ask for
what, but instead I replied, “Yes, Sir,” too afraid of
screwing up and embarrassing him to say anything else.

“
Stand,”
he ordered, and I quickly assumed the position, placing my legs
shoulder-width apart, lacing my fingers behind my back, and tilting
my head toward the floor, keeping my eyes down.

I watched as Damien
knelt to unzip his bag. Much like the furniture in the room, there
were a lot of things I couldn't identify inside. Apparently, he was
far from out of new tricks to show me.

The first thing
Damien extracted was a riding crop. Once in hand, he promptly stood,
circling me and giving me a slap on the ass. I jumped as the cold
leather slapper hit my skin.

“
You
looked as restless as me,” he commented. “This should
spice things up a bit.”

Damien disappeared
behind me, and all I could do was wait for what was to come. Each
swat made my breath hitch, the small stinging of it warming my
backside. It was hard to focus when there was so much going on around
us. To my right, a woman was being paddled while she leaned across a
wooden sawhorse. To my left, a Domme was cracking a bullwhip against
her male submissive's back. He cried out with each strike, and I
winced right along with him, practically forgetting about my own
pain. A crowd had gathered around them to watch, making me feel like
nothing more than a sideshow. I wished we were further away from the
action, though there really wasn't anywhere else to go.

After Damien had
placed a few slaps on each of my ass cheeks, he put the riding crop
away, rummaging through his duffle bag for some rope. While I had
seen some submissives wearing harnesses made of rope, I didn't see
any actual bondage involving it. The vast majority of the restraints
in the room were either leather or metal.

“
Outstretch
your arms,” Damien instructed, and I did as I was told.

He undid the clasp
that held my halter top up and pulled it down over my breasts. They
spilled out, making me feel exposed. For some reason, my nipples were
already perked. Maybe it was because it was cold inside the dungeon.
Or perhaps I was already aroused from everything going on around me.
I couldn't really tell. All I knew was I was nervous.

Damien pulled the
rope around me, laying the first doubled up length of it above my
breasts. The second two strands went beneath them. Each time he
pulled a length across my chest, he paused behind me, and I could
feel the scratching of rope against my back as he tied knots. Next,
he separated the strands, pulling one over each shoulder and moving
my hair aside so that it didn't get tangled in the rope. He joined
the strands together between my breasts, sliding them beneath the
bottom rope, then pulling it over the top. With a final tug, my
breasts were bound, squeezed tight by the rope. I blushed from the
sight of them, the way my skin bulged. The knot he had placed between
them was artfully done, though I didn't know why I was surprised.
Knot tying was a large part of rope bondage in BDSM. It made sense
Damien would know how to do it. With my breasts secure, he took the
strands and crossed them over my ribs, moving behind me to fix a few
more knots.

“
Put
your arms behind your back,” he said.

As soon as my wrists
brushed over the knots, Damien was grabbing them, positioning them to
his satisfaction before he began looping the rope around them. I
could feel that he had gone back to using two strands, making sure I
was well secured. At that point, a few of the Domme's voyeurs had
turned their attention in our direction, stepping around me to watch
Damien finish his rope bondage. Someone even complemented him on it.

When he was done
tying me up, he went to the duffle bag and brought out a flogger. I
eyed it nervously, hoping he didn't plan on hitting me half as hard
as some of the other people in the room were going at it. The cries
of pain all around me made me feel like I was in a torture chamber,
an actual mid-evil dungeon where I was about to get punished for
committing some kind of crime. It was hard for me to remember that
all these people were doing this for pleasure.

Before I had too
much time to think about it, the first slap was landing on my ass.
Damien was mercifully gentle, and instead of feeling a million
blood-curdling stings, it was more like rough tongues licking over my
skin. There was a slight air of discomfort to it, but nothing that
even bordered painful. Still, each unexpected lash made me jump a
bit, tensing.

He moved the flogger
over my body, focusing mainly on my ass, but occasionally traveling
up to my back and shoulders. To my surprise, I was actually beginning
to enjoy it. It was nice to be getting some kind of stimulation in a
room full of so much sexuality.

“
Do
you think you can handle more?” Damien asked.

I wanted to question
how much more, but again, I was too afraid to say anything other
than, “Yes, Sir.” He knew my body well, and I trusted him
not to go too far. Besides, I always had my safety words.

I expected Damien to
start flogging me harder, but instead, he grabbed my halter and
pulled it down the rest of the way, letting it fall to my ankles. My
cheeks turned pink from the fact that I was naked in front of so many
people, so many strangers, but at least I didn't have to look at
their faces. With my head tilted downward, I could avoid all the eyes
upon me, and judging by the feet I saw, there were quite a few sets
of eyes.

Damien slid his hand
between my thighs, and I felt his finger burrow through my folds,
aiming for my moist hole. My clit fired off when his fingertip grazed
it, though the stimulation was far from what I needed to come. His
finger pressed inside, almost painfully rough.

“
I
think you're beginning to enjoy being watched,” he whispered
against my ear.

I couldn't agree or
disagree. My body was hot one moment and cold the next, though the
fingering helped to bring me more over to the warm side. Almost as
soon as he had put it inside of me though, he was pulling away,
leaving my cunt pulsing and wanting more.

Damien knelt before
me, rummaging through the bag again. When he stood back up, he had
two floggers in hand. At first, he doubled them up, giving my ass
another round of soft slaps. To be honest, I preferred one flogger
over two. With so many leather strips landing across my skin at once,
the sensation of individual tongues faded away. Now it felt more like
he was throwing a wet towel across my backside—a very heavy wet
towel that had a bite to it.

After a few more
strokes, he stepped to my side, taking a flogger in each hand and
flogging both sides of me at once. My breath hitched from the first
impact, though the pressure that he used was gentle as ever. It felt
more strange than anything else, but I enjoyed it, jumping slightly
with each soft blow.

When he moved up to
flog my breasts, I got a bit more stimulation from the act. The
leather tongues lashing across my nipples sent twinges of pleasure
straight to my clit, and I found myself blushing, embarrassed by my
own arousal.

Damien circled me
like a shark, leaving not an inch of skin untouched. It gave me a
variety of sensations, and I enjoyed feeling my body's response to
each one. The most pleasure definitely came from having my breasts
and ass flogged, though the leather strips felt good over my mound
too. He could have dialed up the intensity a bit, but I didn't dare
to ask for it—didn't dare to speak.

Apparently, we were
more in tune than I thought. Damien made a final circle around me,
then stopped at my backside, doubling up the floggers again and
focusing on my ass. The strokes were harder than they had been
before, painful enough to make me cry out from each lash. It wasn't a
bad pain though. If anything, it felt like a deliciously thorough
spanking. My pleasure core lit up like a Christmas tree, and as I
rubbed my thighs together, I could feel the wetness between them.

Oh God, Damien.
If you don't stop soon, I'm going to be dripping.
It was an
embarrassing thought, but there was nothing that could be done about
it. My arms were bound, and my body was trapped between Damien and a
wall of spectators. All I could do was stand there and moan and
blush.

He stepped up behind
me, wrapping an arm around me and squeezing one of my breasts to the
point that I pressed back against him. His hot breath was in my ear,
and I could feel the bulge in his pants, which only aroused me more.
It pressed wantonly against my ass, making me wish we could fuck
right there.

I didn't care about
the people watching us anymore. My body was on horny overdrive. If I
hadn't been bound, I might have turned around and dropped to my knees
to pleasure Damien. But I was bound, and the teasing game was far
from over.

He released my
breast and I shuddered, my eyes darting up for a split second as he
returned to the duffle bag. There were a few people standing around
us, but only one I recognized. The vulgar man from Damien's dinner
party was there, the one who had been so vocal during my masturbation
show. He seemed every bit as invested in watching our scene, licking
his lips the second our eyes met. I hoped he wouldn't tell Damien I
had looked up. Already being in a vulnerable position, I wouldn't put
it past him to punish me publicly. Thankfully, the man remained
silent.

My eyes wouldn't be
a problem for much longer. Damien fastened a blindfold over them,
obscuring my vision, which made me incredibly nervous, considering I
had no idea what all he had in his bag of tricks. For a moment, I
simply stood there, breathing heavily, wondering and waiting in
anticipation of what would happen next.

Then I heard him
say, “Spread your legs for me.”

I did as I was told,
fighting back the urge to wince, even though nothing had happened
yet. My entire body jolted as I felt his palm slap hard between my
spread legs. The tiny bundle of nerves fired off in approval just
before another slap struck it. Blow after blow came, making my cunt
throb pleasantly. I moaned with each stroke, feeling my body drive
quickly up the hill of oblivion. It didn't take much more for me to
plummet over the edge, my breathing ragged from the stimulation.
Damien didn't stop though. His hand mercilessly spanked out my
contractions until I was sensitive and squirming, fighting to keep
myself from moving out of reach of his touch.