Kinky Bet (7 page)

Master Jacob finally stopped outside a closed door and turned to her. In his raised hands he held a mask, which he placed on her face, completely covering her eyes. The black lamb’s wool was soft, but it blocked out all light, leaving her disoriented. She moved to touch it, and toyed with pulling it off, but she stopped herself mid-flight.

“Good decision, subbie. I’d hate to add to your list of indiscretions with you fighting what Master Conal has ordered for you.”

Deciding silence was probably the best option, Erica lowered her head and waited for whatever came next.

She shivered as a breeze brushed across her skin. Someone pressed into the small of her back, urging her forward. She tripped on her foot, but straightened in time to prevent an embarrassing fall. Someone grasped her hands, and she was pulled farther into the room.

“I trust you slept well, Enya,” said a familiar Irish accent.

“Well enough, thank you, Sir.”

“That’s good, because I have a busy day planned for you.”

He stopped moving and touched her shoulder, his unique spicy scent playing havoc with her brain. “Lean down and feel the special chair I have ready for you.”

She tentatively reached downwards and found a padded platform similar to one of the kneelers in church.

“That’s right. Keep moving your hand and feel what you will be kneeling on for the next little while.”

As she continued her exploration she found several sections to the apparatus, with padded rests, hooks, some higher steps, and some lower. “May I ask a question, Sir?”

“You may.”

“What sort of chair is it, Sir?”

He chuckled. “It’s not like any chair you’ve probably seen before. I designed it myself. Don’t worry, you will be quite safe and you may even enjoy the experience.”

She smiled. “That doesn’t really matter. I am here to learn, and that includes doing what you feel is best, Sir.”

“Wow. You did have a good sleep. That’s a much better attitude since yesterday. Let’s see if you’re still so eager to please after this session.”

She jumped as several people took hold of her and pressed her forward onto the strange chair. Her knees landed on cushioned steps and she was encouraged to lean forward. Her elbows found higher platforms and her breasts hung free. Soft leather cuffs were attached to her ankles and her wrists, and a wide belt was wrapped around her waist, holding her in place. In her mind she could see her body kneeling forward with her arse in the air. If the mask wasn’t covering over half of her face, her blush would be obvious to everyone.

“How are the straps? Not too tight?” asked Conal, as he a slid a finger under each of them.

She tried moving, but the restraints held her firmly in place. It felt strange, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable. “No, not too tight, Sir,” came her muffled reply.

“Good. Now that you’re in place, there are a few more rules for you to follow. If at any time you forget the rules, you will be reminded. Do you understand?”

She trembled, wondering what the reminders would comprise. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Let’s get started.”

What? He hadn’t given her any rules, had he? Or had she been so overwhelmed by the chair that she hadn’t heard him?

“May I be having all your attention, folks,” she heard him say to the room.

Folks? There were more than just the people who had tied her in the chair?

“Enya here is having trouble remembering what’s expected of a sub. We’re going to help her, aren’t we?”

She heard lots of laughter and several calls of “You betcha,” and “Absolutely,” and a scary “Give her to me for an hour and she’ll never forget,” which was followed by even louder laughter. Including a sexy Irish laugh. She sucked in a breath and her whole body tensed.

“I appreciate the offer of help, my friend, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Relieved, she blew out the breath. Although she couldn’t think straight, the thought of someone else training her made her very uncomfortable.

“Now that I’ve got your attention, here are the rules.”

Someone, probably Conal, smoothed a warm hand over her buttocks, reminding her that she was very much on display.

“Enya here is not allowed to speak. If she utters even one sound, she will earn one slap. Sound fair to you all?”

She heard several titters of laughter and lots of agreement. Of course she didn’t think it sounded that difficult. She could be quiet. She was good at keeping her mouth shut.

Yeeeouw!

Someone had hold of one of her nipples and was twisting it painfully. She hadn’t been expecting that.

“Oh dear. She’s failed already. Do your best, my friend.”

A few seconds later someone else slapped her bare behind. She bit her lip, but it was too soon after the last surprise and a squeak slipped out.

“Not good, Enya. I thought you were better than that.”

She felt the sting of a second swat across her behind, but this time she was ready for it. She closed her eyes behind the mask and slammed her lips together tightly.

Warm breath tickled her ear as Conal whispered to her. “Don’t forget to breathe, love.”

She let out a small breath but sucked it in again as someone rubbed the skin of her stinging behind with a warm hand. The soft caress sent shivers across her skin, and more surprising was the fact that it also started a tingling in her clit. Now that was a surprise.

Another audience member slid a finger inside her, totally taking her unawares. It was a struggle not to cry out, this time not in pain, but in arousal. Time stood still while she was prodded, pinched, caressed and poked. Several times she couldn’t hold back a sigh or a moan, and sometimes the spanking caught her by surprise and she squealed, but by the time Conal called a halt to the proceedings, she’d learnt to keep her mouth closed and make no sound.

“What should you be saying now, Enya?”

Her body was both sore and sizzling at the same time. Her limbs felt boneless and her brain was fuzzy and she needed an orgasm so badly she thought she might die of her unrelieved tension. Meanwhile what was that he had asked? Oh yes, she had it now. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Do you think she’s earned an orgasm before breakfast, ladies and gents?”

Oh God, he wouldn’t! Not here in front of everyone. She wasn’t sure she was ready for this. She struggled against her bonds and she opened her mouth to speak, but his sexy Irish accent stopped her.

“Have you changed your mind about being a submissive, Enya?”

Her mind was in a whirl. Once again she questioned whether this was what she wanted.

He tilted her chin upwards. “It’s all about trust. You have to let everything go and trust that your Master will help you explore your submissive side. That’s all we are doing here—exploring your fantasies. Nod your head if you understand.”

Her heart pounded against her chest and her breathing came in short, shallow puffs as she made her decision.

“Don’t think too much, just go with your gut. Do you want to continue? Or will you give up and use your safe word?”

“No!”

“No, what? You must be very clear here. Everything is consensual. If you’re not sure, everything stops and you go home. So what are you saying?”

She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “I don’t want to use my safe word, Sir.”

There. She’d said it, and she suddenly felt lighter and more relaxed than she had in a long time.

The murmur from the crowd got louder and some even clapped their hands.

“I’m glad to hear it, girl, because I’ve got a room full of friends here just dying to see you come.” He traced a finger along the centre of her spine, warming her cool skin. “And trust me, fire girl, you’re going to come like a freight train,” he whispered for her ears only.

Oh God.
Just hearing his sexy voice talk about orgasms made her sweat. His shoes scuffed across the floor as he moved away from her head. The room went silent and she found herself once again breathing in short and sharp inspirations. A pulse in her head thrummed in unison to the beats of her heart against her chest while she waited for whatever came next.

As if choreographed and timed to precision, three people attached themselves to her at once. One on each of her breasts, and one on her clit. The triple sensation had her pussy clenching tightly as a small orgasm slipped out. Her breasts were now sucked harder, one of her tormentors biting lightly while the other applied a different technique, using their tongue to flip back and forth over her nipple. Who were these people? Were they men or women? At this point she didn’t care, as long as they didn’t stop!

Another joined the sensual assault, sliding a finger into her pussy while the assault on her clit continued unabated. The only sounds she heard were the moist suckling, and the slick friction of the finger inside her. At some point her mind switched off. It became all about the sensations. Warm, wet and a little bit of pain thrown in, then soothed with gentle kisses and licks. They continued to tease her and draw the experience out. Every time the beginnings of a release surfaced, the crowd seemed to know and eased off, only to start up again until she felt like a combustion engine about to explode. Conal had warned her she would come hard, but she didn’t know if she could take any more of this erotic torture.

“Please.”

At the sound of her voice, everyone released her simultaneously.

“Now is that the proper way to address your Master? Please what?”

“Please, Sir. I need to come in a bad way.”

Conal’s deep laugh echoed through the room. “You’ve certainly been a bad girl so far, but I think you asked nicely enough.”

She gasped as the assault resumed, but this time when she got close again, the intensity increased and she thrashed her head back and forth in an attempt to stop herself from screaming out.

“You may come for us now, fire girl,” Conal whispered, close to her ear. Before she had time to process what that meant her body exploded. Her muscles clenched, giving up on any effort to control the spasms overtaking her.

“Let it go, Enya. You’ve given yourself to us. Your pleasure is our pleasure.”

At his words she released her muscles.

“Holy shit,” she cried out as the floodgates opened and wave after wave of pleasure took over her body. “Thank you, Sir!”

The room erupted in laughter and applause. Like a mother giving birth, she’d lost all embarrassment and smiled dreamily as feeling returned to her limbs. At least she’d entertained them.

The straps holding her in place were quickly removed and she was lifted into a standing position. If Conal hadn’t wrapped his arms around her, she would surely have fallen. She brushed her hair away from her cheeks, touching the wetness from tears she hadn’t even known she’d shed.

“Don’t worry, love. You did well.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he placed a finger over her lips. “No, don’t talk yet.”

He tightened his grip on her body, almost carrying her from the room. She felt herself being lowered onto a soft bed as he removed her mask. The bed moved with his weight as he lay down beside her.

Her eyes opened and closed a few times before she realised it wasn’t her own room.

“Where am I?”

Conal traced his finger over her cheek. “You’re in my room, Enya.”

“But why?”

He shook his head “No talking.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said.

“You did well, but you need me to care for you now.”

Her brain didn’t really take in what he was saying because he wrapped her in his arms and cradled her head against his chest. He continued to speak softly, telling her how proud he was of her and how she’d come a long way. In no time at all she was asleep. Some part of her brain protested that she couldn’t be tired as it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. Some time later she woke up to find him still holding her close and planting a kiss on her forehead.

“It’s called aftercare, Enya. It’s what a Dom needs to do to care for his sub after a scene to keep her safe and make sure she’s okay.”

She’d heard of aftercare, but she’d never realised until now what it entailed. Now she knew, she was pretty impressed. If only it could be Conal giving her all the aftercares in the future, but she knew this was just a job to him, and she was his client, not his sub.

“You’re frowning. What’s wrong? You may speak freely. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not hurt. In fact I feel pretty good.”

“Then why were you frowning?”

She lay back against the soft silk pillow. “I was thinking about what happens after this weekend.”

“And why would that be making you sad?

“I don’t know how I can top this.”

He grinned. “What do you mean?”

She grimaced. Did he really want her to embarrass herself by telling him how she felt?

“I’m not talking about topping from the bottom. More about the quality of the experience.”

He continued to smile at her. “And?”

“You know how it is—once you have Dom
Pérignon
, cheap champagne won’t cut it.”

He laughed. “You’re worried your next experience with a Dom won’t live up to this weekend?”

She blushed. “I wouldn’t get a swollen head or anything, but that about covers it.”

He pushed himself up on his elbows and took her hand, stroking her palm with his finger. “You realise this weekend is very light BDSM. There are many levels, and what you’ve experienced here would probably come close to the lowest. Some other members of the lifestyle use some very extreme practices that may not be for you.”

She nodded. “That’s one of the things I worry about. What if I can’t find someone who suits me and what I need?”

“In a true D/s relationship the sub has the power. The limits are negotiated at the start and agreed to by both parties. The sub gives freely to their Master, but only as far as they are willing to go. If a Master goes back on that agreement, he will never be allowed in many clubs again. We’re all about staying safe and consensual here.”

He let go of her hand and stood up. “When the time comes I’ll make sure you’re matched up with a Master who will treat you well.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for a different Master, but she wasn’t telling him that. She knew his role was to train her, nothing more. However, she couldn’t help wishing she meant just a little more to him than that. It was, of course, wishful thinking on her part, because apparently she was mistaken. He seemed to be very eager to find her another Master.