Master Red (3 page)

“You know me so well already.”

He tongued the shell of my ear. The warmth from that and his breath sent my emotions scattering. Once again, everything else faded, and I saw nothing in front of me except gray empty space, my eyes glazing. I dropped my head back to rest it just below his shoulder, relaxing so he knew I was ready for whatever he had to give.

“That cunt of yours,” he said. “Is it wet?”

“Yes, from before you arrived, Sir, but it’s wetter now you’re here.”

“I believe you, but I’d like to check all the same.”

I held my breath, excited beyond measure as anticipation mounted. That moment before he did something was always so heady, and my mind was spinning with how the first proper touch of our evening would feel. He smoothed one hand down my front, briefly pausing at my stomach, his hand lingering there—the glorious, teasing bastard—before he went farther south. He splayed his fingers on my upper thigh, his skin warm, getting warmer until it seemed to burn. I exhaled a shaky breath, then sucked it in again as he swept that hand across to cup my cunt. Touching but not. There but not. I resisted the urge to jerk my hips up so he got a proper handful and waited like the obedient sub I’d promised to be.

He dragged what felt like his middle finger up my slit.

“Yes, very wet. Taste it.”

He lifted his hand and touched his finger to my lips. I sucked it inside, swirling my tongue around it. A man groaned, the sound indistinct, far away outside our personal space. I didn’t care whether it was for us or someone else—it turned me on all the same.

“Hear that?” Master Red whispered. “That was for you.”

I moaned, and he pulled his finger out. I wanted him to shove it inside my cunt, but he didn’t. Instead, he fumbled for something, from his pocket, perhaps, then grazed it over my thigh.

“What do you think that is?” he asked.

A woman hissed, “yes”, and Master Red moved whatever it was more flamboyantly, just for her.

“I’m not sure, Sir. It feels like metal. Small. Like a nipple clamp.”

“Clamp is right.”

My nipples tautened at my thoughts of them being clipped then tugged, but he glided the clamp through my folds, and I knew exactly where it would end up.

“That kind of clamp,” he whispered. “Not for this”—he tweaked my nipple through my dress—“but for this”—he shifted his hand down and pinched my clit—“and you’re going to love it.”

I would, but we’d never done something so…intimate in front of anyone before. First-time nerves got to me then. My legs shook, and I wondered whether you had to be a certain kind of person to offer yourself to someone while others watched. Did you have to have a bit of the showgirl in you to be able to perform? I thought about it only for a second or two, then realized I still couldn’t see anyone. It was as though my mind had cut them off in order for me to enjoy this experience without worrying what they thought. And why should I care anyway? So long as me and Master Red had a good time, it didn’t matter what anyone else got out of it.

Did it?

“Relax, pet,” he said. “It’s going to give you quite a nip.”

Oh, I knew it would and prepared myself for the pain to come. My cunt hole clenched, my arsehole doing the same, and my nipples strained.

A blinding pain set up home between my legs. Raw agony streaked from there throughout my slit, spreading up my hole, even into my belly. I snarled, refusing to scream, and panted through it. My head flopped forward, and Master Red drew it back again with a palm on my forehead.

“Breathe,” he whispered. “You can do it. Think of how beautiful you look. How your clit is poking out from between the top of two little jaws. I’d say it was bulging, pulsating, and when the pain recedes, I’ll give you a brilliant orgasm. They’re watching you, those people. A man’s wanking over the sight. His cock’s hard enough that he might come any second, before we’ve even finished. How about that. You’ve turned him on so much he can’t wait.”

The images he’d given me played out in my mind’s eye as I closed my eyes. Sparkles of silver danced, and as my legs shook my inner thighs jostled the clamp. Oh, God, a fresh wave of much-wanted evil all over again. If I thought I’d been prepared, that I’d braced myself, I’d been so very wrong. Streaks of pain, stronger, more violent, raged, hot, white-hot and unrelenting. My knees buckled, and Master Red held me up, hugging me against him until the tremors began to ease.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

Roses, roses, roses.
“I’m fine, Sir.”

“Are you sure?” He stroked over my slit.

Another bout of intensity.

Oh, fuck, roses…
“Yes, Sir.”

With two fingers of one hand, he spread my lips wide. I snatched in a bit of air then held it, my pulse pounding in my ears, me concentrating on the sound of that while my clit felt swollen enough to burst. The pain would soon turn into pleasure, and although I loved the drift from one to the other, I wasn’t sure I’d be getting that far.

Gently, and using two fingers of his other hand, he slid them up and down my exposed lips, a massage to take my mind off what was going on in between them. They slid easily enough, but after one quick dip into my hole, he spread my juices, giving his fingers a wetter surface to glide over. The pleasure began in my opening, as though my nerve endings there were fizzling against one another, creating a buzz that slowly spread inside and up my slit. That buzz headed farther north, until it reached my gripped clit and swarmed over the pain, replacing it with bliss so strong I stopped breathing for a few heartbeats.

“Now, pet, now how does it feel?”

I opened my mouth to speak but found no words waiting. What I offered him was a garbled sound, one that was alien to me, as though someone else had released it.

“That good?” he asked.

He moved his fingers in a tad, closer to the clip, once again dipping into my hole to draw out the lubrication he needed. The sides of his fingers lightly nudged the clip every so often, which brought on rushes of ecstasy that bordered on mini orgasms. But a bigger one brewed, I could feel it there, hovering, waiting to overtake me.

He stopped rubbing. Flicked the clip.

I cried out, unable to stop it, uncaring what I’d sounded like.

“Oh, God,” someone said. “Fucking gorgeous.”

“She’s out of it. So out of it… Christ, I’m going to come.”

Master Red licked my earlobe. “Listen to them.”

“I…I hear them, Sir,” I managed.

Everything that I was threatened to melt away. I struggled to hold back the pressure building in my cunt. I was on the verge of coming at the same time as whoever had said they were going to. Coming with a stranger. Someone I couldn’t see. Someone who would know who I was every time I came back.

It doesn’t matter.

He flicked again.

It really doesn’t matter. Roses.

He flicked again.

Roses. I want to say roses.

Chapter Three

“Say it,” Master Red said.

“No…
no!
”

“Then damn well come!”

He flicked yet again. Pleasure poured in a massive rush, overwhelming in its intensity, the force of it stealing the remaining strength from my legs so that I began to buckle. Master Red caught me, holding me across my middle with one strong arm while plucking at my cunt with his free hand. He shoved his fingers inside, what seemed like more than two, and fucked my hole with concentrated jerks, short and sharp, barely any withdrawal. I fought against his hold to sink lower, wanting as much of him inside me as I could get. His fingers went in up to the second set of knuckles, stretching, widening me, bringing on more pleasure than I thought I could handle. I babbled.

“Look at her coming,” a man said. “Just look at her.”

“She’s there. So fucking
there!
” a woman breathed out. “I’m…I’m going with her. Oh, God, I’m going with her… Lick me. Yes, lick me. Make me co—”

I moaned as if in agony, but there was none of that now. All that rampaged through me was the top end of the bliss scale, shattering every perception of it that I’d had before. Master Red eased out from behind me, pressing me to the wall then keeping his hand firmly on my stomach. He went between my legs—kneeling, I thought—and removed the clamp. Before a new rush of hurting could fully take hold, he sucked on my clit, pulling it into his mouth, draining it of pain, making it numb yet at the same time highly sensitive. I humped his face, muttering incoherently, shoving my cunt into him and begging for more.

“Spank my arse, Sir?” a woman said.

The sound of a sharp, stinging slap followed, then another, and another until there were too many to keep track of. The woman keened, wailing out her release, and I opened my eyes expecting to see nothing but gray again. I was assaulted with a semi-circle of people around us, cocks and tits out, hands wielding whips, nipples being pinched severely. Eyes were closed, cum was spewing, cunt juices glistening, all these things smacking into me and sending me completely over the edge.

Boldly, I dragged the top of my dress down until my breasts were free, and stared at Master Red. I’d broken one of our rules by doing that, but God, I wanted my nipples seen to.

He looked up, paused in his sucking, and said, “Invite.”

Was he daring me to say
roses?

I was too far gone to even think of that now. Master Red went back to my cunt, licking, ramming his fingers into my hole, shunting me up the wall every time he pushed in. I stared around at those watching, and a man took one step forward to place a hand on Master Red’s shoulder.

My Master nodded at him, then the Dom looked at me. He tilted his head, and I nodded, too, shocked that I had, yet at the same time not caring who touched my nipples so long as someone did.

“Yes, Sir, please…” I said to him.

He moved to my side and took one nipple between finger and thumb. Squeezed—and kept squeezing until the pain in my clit was just a distant memory. I pushed into his hand, asking for more, and he twisted at the same time Master Red nipped my clit with his teeth.

I was lost.

I closed my eyes, let them do whatever they would, and relaxed, the pleasure having its wicked way with no resistance from me. I bucked, hips jerking spasmodically, free breast bouncing. The Dom switched his attention to my other nipple, treating it to the same, then bent his head to the one he’d abandoned.

He bit.

With two of my most sensitive parts being nuzzled, the pleasure and pain coming from separate locations at the same time threw me for a loop. I sagged, Master Red putting more pressure on my stomach to hold me up. I stared down at him as he stared up at me, and he spoke, loud and clear with his eyes.

He loved me. Was proud of me. I’d gone to the next level without any trouble. We’d become the show, no longer just voyeurs. I’d trusted him—and those watching—and as I shifted my gaze from him to them, I felt a sense of belonging. Of acceptance. I had watched these people give their playtime freely, had taken a part of their lives and stored it in my head. Their gift had now been returned, and as my orgasm waned, as the men biting me eased off on my nipple and clit, I let out a long, low moan.

The Dom stepped away with a nod, and the semi-circle dispersed. Master Red rose, taking me in his arms while I rested my cheek on his chest and closed my eyes. My whole body felt boneless, those bones replaced with swarms of undulating calm, making me floaty and lightheaded.

“She said you were there,” Master red whispered, stroking my hair. “But you weren’t.”

“No, Sir. Nearly, though.”

“You look different when you’re in subspace. You knew exactly what was going on. I’m so proud of you.”

“I know, Sir. But I’m… I need to sit down.”

He let me go, lowered my dress to cover my cunt then lifted the top so my breasts were no longer on show. He paused, staring down at my chest, and I had the awful feeling he was about to rebuke me. I steeled myself for it, prepared to be told there was a punishment waiting in my future.

Instead, he cupped my face, looked into my eyes, and I nodded to let him know I was okay. He guided me to an empty sofa and sat, tugging me down so I was on his lap. I snuggled against him, utterly exhausted of body but my mind pin-sharp and alert. Again he stroked my hair, and we sat without talking, me taking in our surroundings. I found, when my gaze landed on people I’d seen in the semicircle, that I wasn’t embarrassed. I was nothing to them, not really, just someone who had given them quite a show.

I spotted the Dom, pleased that he paid me no attention, that he was now sucking some other woman’s tit as she hung from the cross the men had been using. Perhaps he didn’t have his own sub tonight, or maybe he just enjoyed sampling other people’s. I decided it didn’t matter. He’d had no interest in me other than joining our scene, and it could most definitely stay that way.

Was I supposed to feel dirty? Used? A slut?

I didn’t.

“He’s what I think of as a surfer,” Master Red said.

I didn’t have to ask who. I had just about been ready to contemplate whether letting another man touch me would affect our relationship. To probe my thoughts deeper and wonder how it had made my Master feel. He’d been the one to give the green light, but still, had he felt jealous once that man had put his hands, his mouth on me? Or was Master Red secure enough to know that it was something that just happened in voyeur rooms and didn’t have any bearing on us as a couple? I needed to ask, but as we were now, still in a scene setting, I didn’t want to drop the Master/sub role. Then again, I’d deviated from it already, getting my breasts out like that.

“He’s in between subs,” he went on. “Either looking for a new one or enjoying time without. He was watching us from the moment I came in. Did you not notice?”

“No, Sir.” And I hadn’t.

“There was no harm in inviting him. He isn’t a threat. And look at him now, busy with someone else’s sub. How do you feel about me giving you permission to choose someone else?”