Indulgence (143 page)

At five after two, the public address system in the park
crackles to life. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll now have the drawing to name our
newest colt. Let’s see what it is.” There’s a pause, and then the voice says,
“And the name drawn is Shazam. Believe it or not, we already have a horse by
that name, so we’ll have to draw again.” There’s another pause before the voice
calls out, “The name drawn is Suzy Q. Unfortunately, that’s a girl’s name, and
this foal is a colt, meaning he’s a boy. We’ll have to try again.” Misty grabs
my hand and squeezes so tightly that I’m afraid she’ll break my fingers. “And
this time, the name drawn is Felix. Congratulations to Wendy Montgomery! Please
come to the park office, and thanks to everyone who participated.”

“Well, that’s that. Let’s go find some postcards.” As we
start toward the little gift shops, the PA system rattles again with the sound
of someone clearing their throat, and then the same voice from before
announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s just been brought to our attention that
there was a foal born this morning, another colt, and because we’ve already got
all of these names, the management has decided to go ahead and draw a name.
Let’s see, what have we got here . . . Chester.” There’s some background noise
and the man says, “Not again. Unfortunately, we already have a Chester. Guess
we’ll draw another.” Misty’s standing there holding her breath and I start to
laugh at her when he says, “And we have a winner! The name drawn is Jaz! Kimberly
Hendricks, please come to the park office.”

I’m standing there speechless while Misty jumps up and down,
squealing like a three year old. “Come on! Let’s see what they say!” she yells
and grabs my hand. “Where’s the park office?” she yells to an employee picking
up trash nearby.

“I’ll take you,” the girl calls back. “Follow me.” We run to
catch up with her and she leads us down a little narrow alley-type corridor. It
opens into a bright, modern office where a rather rotund gentleman is already
talking to someone. He turns and smiles.

“Miss Hendricks?”

“Yes, sir!” Now I’m getting excited – this is really
happening!

“Congratulations! We don’t give much for this kind of thing,
but you do get a certificate and we’ll make your picture with the plate beside
the door, and with the foal if it’s awake.”

Before he can say anything else, I ask politely, “I turned
in that name because it’s the nickname of my fiancé. Is there any way possible
that we could come back tomorrow so he could have his picture made too?”

He smiles so hard his eyes crinkle shut. “Absolutely! Here.”
Reaching down to the desktop, he hands me back a business card. Printed on its
face is
Arnold Foster, Park Manager.
“Show this to them at the gate
tomorrow and tell them you’re here to see me. They’ll bring you right in.”

“Oh, thank you so much, sir! He’s going to be so surprised
and excited!” He shakes my hand with a warm, firm grip, and Misty and I head
back out into the park. We stop and get the postcards just like I wanted to,
and then we spend some time feeding a kid, the goat kind, before we head to the
car. She drops me at a little place called The Salad Bowl where she picks up
Reggie and I find Jaz sitting inside, waiting for me.

Over the soup and salad, which is excellent, we talk about
tonight, what’s going to happen, everything he can think of to prepare me. He
seems excited about it, but the more we talk, the more apprehensive I become.
His face is serious when he says, “Okay, Kimmie, listen closely. If you get
into trouble, you let me know, understand?” I nod. “I mean it. Don’t just keep
going. I want to know if you’re having trouble. Let’s use the red light/green
light thing tonight. If you need to call a yellow, you do it, don’t hesitate.
I’ll stop and we’ll talk and decide if you can keep going or if you need to
stop. We clear on that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tonight it’s Master.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good girl. Let’s go.”

We make it to the club in plenty of time, and Jaz checks in
with the man at the front window. “Yes, sir, Mr. Dolan is waiting for you. Right
that way,” he says and points to a door, then buzzes us through.

Sure enough, Reggie is standing right there on the other
side. “I’ll show you two around, and Jaz, I want to show you the performance
area I booked for you. If it’s not what you need, we’ll find something that’ll
work.” This club is amazing. It makes ours look like a warehouse. We spend a
few minutes looking around, then look at the alcove. Jaz pronounces it perfect,
and Reggie shows us to the locker rooms. I get a peck on the cheek and a
promise that Jaz will be standing outside the ladies’ area when I come out.

Oh, god, this place is fabulous. The locker rooms look like
the kind you’d see in a high-end athletic club, and there are a couple of
submissives already in there who introduce themselves. They’re both sweet and
friendly, and I have a good feeling about the clientele.

I come out in my satin robe to indeed find Jaz standing
there, looking scrumptious as always, bare-chested and in his leathers. “You
ready?”

“Yes, Master.”

He grins at me. “You sure?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Okay. Not our hometown, so protocol in place. Here we go.”
I walk two feet behind him as we’d discussed prior. That’s not usually
something he wants, but for tonight and in this position, he feels the need to
have everyone acknowledge his expertise, and I’m happy to help that happen. We
step up onto the platform, which is lit only with ambient lighting, and he
makes sure everything is ready while I fall into the presentation pose I’ve
come to find most comfortable. No need to stress myself out with a simple pose
when the night’s going to be so stressful for me anyway.

He’s sure that everything he needs is there just about the
time a dungeon monitor stops by and says, “Lights up in two minutes.”

Jaz smiles at him. “Thanks.” Then he looks to me. “Kimmie,
remember: You get in trouble, you say something, understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Okay. We’re up.” As though they’d heard him, the lights in
the alcove come up, and we’re there in front of everyone. Apprehension is
starting to take up residence in my throat, but I just choke it back down.

I listen in awe as Jaz does a small introduction piece about
what we’ll be doing and the art form itself. My mind is running in circles as
he speaks, and he jolts me into the moment when he says, “Submissive, rise and
come to your Master.”

I rise gracefully and, as he nods, drop my robe. Without a
stitch on, I walk straight up to him and stand there, looking downward
respectfully, until he tips my head back with a finger under my chin and kisses
my lips lightly. “Ready?”

“Yes, Master.” His smile is the only reward I need.

He begins easily enough, wrapping the rope around my ribcage
just under my breasts, and I hold my arms out at forty-five degree angles as he
showed me earlier. As he wraps, he criss-crosses and knots, and my breasts are
isolated and bound tight. That makes them start to redden, and I could swear he
licks his lips as he looks at them. He continues by binding my right arm
tightly to my torso, and I start to feel the first niggles of panic hit as the
ropes tighten around my chest. Perceptive as he is, he stops and looks into my
face. “Color?”

“Green, Master,” I choke out.

“Remember, Kimmie, slow and easy breaths. No panting. No
breathing through your mouth. Got it?”

“Yes, Master, I do.”

“Good girl.” He goes back to binding and, when he seems to
be finished with my torso, he takes the long ropes tied into my bindings and
uses them to hoist me upward. When he does, my weight in my torso falls against
the ropes and I feel the first constriction. It’s a fight to keep from gasping,
and he notices and gives me a look, but I shake my head gently and he goes on.

Once I’m tied upright, he begins binding my lower body. He
draws rope around my waist, then between my legs, criss-crossing it directly on
top of my introitus. On the second pass through, he pulls the rope between my
lower lips and I go wet, and he uses that rope to begin binding my legs. My
left leg is bound straight out and then secured in that position by drawing the
rope up to one around my waist, but my right leg is bound up and over my back.
Then he connects it to my right arm, which he draws behind me and up. As my
foot and hand are bound together, my spine arches and my chest presses even
harder into the ropes. I struggle to breathe correctly, and he stops and bends
down to look into my eyes. “You okay, subbie?”

“Yes, Master.” Funny, I don’t
feel
okay.

“You don’t look okay.”
You’re damn funny, Jaz
, I tell
myself.

“I’m okay, Master. I promise.”

“Okay. If you insist. But I’m watching you, and if you go on
when you should stop and I find out, you’ll be punished. Know that going in.”

“Yes, Master,” I nod in understanding as I concentrate on my
breathing. But that’s getting harder to do.

His last act is to use some trailing ropes to hoist up the
lower part of my body to the level he wants it, then adjust my torso to match.
The one thing he hasn’t done is to bind my head back by using my hair like he
did with Amelie, and I’m thankful for that. I knew she struggled, and I’d
struggle even more. Once I’m suspended there, he bends down and looks into my
eyes. “Kimmie, you hanging in there?”

“Yes, Master.” I’m trying hard to follow his instructions
for breathing.

“You sure?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good girl. It’ll all be over soon.”

He turns and begins to speak to the crowd, but I’m having
trouble concentrating on what he’s saying. Time seems to have stopped, and
everything is blurry and muted. I do, however, hear him say, “This is my
collared submissive, Kimberly. I’d like for everyone to know that this is her
first time doing a full-blown kinbaku demonstration, and I think she’s done an
excellent job. Could you give her some encouragement, please?” People start to
cheer and clap, and I know it’s for me, which makes my face flush red. When the
applause dies down, he says, “As is the Master’s prerogative, I will now use my
submissive for oral pleasure.”

I had no idea he was going to do this. And then it strikes
me: His scars. Is he crazy? How could he have forgotten? I try to speak but
sort of choke. Fortunately, he hears me and leans down again. “You okay, baby?
Color?”

“Green. Sir, don’t.”

He gives me a quizzical look. “Don’t what?”

“Jaz, please. Your scars. Have you forgotten? I don’t want
them to hurt you by . . .”

His smile is so warm that it lights up my skin. “Shhhh,
baby. No. I haven’t forgotten. Kimmie, listen to me carefully.” My eyes go
straight to his and what I see there makes me weep. “Baby, I’m a better man
because of you. If you can love me and my body, then I don’t give a rat’s ass
what anyone else thinks. I want them to see how much we love each other, and to
know that no matter what, we always will. I want them all to know what a
strong, brave, loving woman you are. Do you understand?” I can only nod and
cry. “Shhhh, don’t cry, angel. It’s okay. This is our one chance to show the
world that they can go fuck themselves because we love each other. You with
me?”

I take the deepest breath I can manage and, my voice clear,
I answer, “Yes, Master. I’m with you.”

“Thank you, precious.” He kisses my forehead, and then I
watch with wonder and arousal as he unzips those beautiful leathers I made for
him and frees that cock I adore.

I hear a couple of gasps from the audience, but I don’t
care. They mean nothing to me, to us. This is
our
time, and I’m thrilled
that this man has chosen me to make it known to the world that he’s alive and
whole. His hands grasp the sides of my head and he whispers down to me, “Open
wide, baby. I’m going all the way down.”

I let him take my throat and don’t make a sound. In a couple
of minutes, I start a very low, quiet humming, and I feel him tense and
struggle to maintain. I’m sucking as well as I can while he’s stroking, and his
fingers dig into my scalp and wind through my hair, letting me know he
appreciates the work I’m doing to keep him satisfied. I want desperately to cup
his balls, but I don’t have a free hand, and it’s difficult to tell where he is
in the process, but I think I feel his cock harden more and lengthen just a
little. All I hear is, “Ah, ah, ah, ah, ahhhhh. Yeah, baby,” and he fills my
throat, then grinds his pelvis into my face and stills with that hard shaft
blocking my airway.

Dots start to form behind my eyes and things are getting
dark when he finally pulls out and I take in a ragged gasp. I’m shaking so hard
that I forget to swallow, and cum runs out of my mouth and down my chin,
dripping onto the floor below. Faster than I can process, a towel wipes my face
dry and the next thing I know, I’m standing on the floor, rope lying all around
me. Everything is moving and spinning, and I’m so dizzy I don’t know what’s
going on. I can feel myself being lifted and then everything goes dark.

When I awaken, I look around and find myself in a room every
bit as opulent as the one at the Ritz. Jaz is beside me, and I stare into those
beautiful brown eyes. With a soft hand, he strokes my face and whispers, “Hey,
baby, you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” is all I can manage to squeak out.

“Kimmie, you did so great out there. Amazing, really. I’m so
proud of you.”

I try to kiss him but I’m shaking so hard that I can’t. In a
few minutes, Misty wanders in. “Can I get her something?” I hear her ask, but
things still aren’t making sense. In just a couple of minutes, she’s back.

“Baby, sit up. Come on.” But I can’t. He lifts me up to
sitting and puts a glass to my lips, but I only manage a couple of sips. I hear
him say, “I need to take her back to the hotel. She needs some rest.”