Anna tried to relax. “A girls night would be fun.” Not all the submissives would be called, and in the past when things like this happened those left in the Subs’ Garden made use of their free time and the amenities of the mansion. “I guess it depends on what letter we each get assigned.” And more importantly to
whom
they were assigned.
Mae brought over champagne flutes, bottles of sparkling mineral water and a four hundred dollar bottle of champagne. A few other subs wandered over to sit near them, the mood quickly turning festive. Those subs that had standing rules about things like drinking opted for sparkling water. Anna thought it was a bit risky for anyone to choose champagne—what if they were called and the Dom who they were paired with objected to them drinking before hand?
She took a sip of icy mineral water as Mae finished playing hostess and resumed her seat.
“Do you remember?” Mae leaned forward, smiling and wiggling her eyebrows.
“Remember what?” Sarah took a small sip of Champagne and hummed appreciatively.
“What’s on the list?” A blonde Anna didn’t know was toying with the fuchsia lacing along the edge of her black and silver animal print bra. “I’ve been wondering, too. I don’t remember.”
“Some of the letters will be easy.” Sarah crossed her arms, her bare breasts squeezed together by the movement. “Think about ‘Q.’”
“What about ‘B’?” Mae tugged her robe up. “That one will have bondage, branding, beating, breast play, boot worship, breath control—”
They were joined by another sub Anna hadn’t met, but whom Mae seemed to know well. While the others tried to guess every item on the checklist, Anna sat quietly, wondering what was going to happen to her. Wondering where Master Jensen was. Her mind drifted back to the last time she’d been with him.
“You’re mine, Anna.” Master Jensen twirled the crop he held.
Anna could only murmur, “Yes, Master.” She was dancing on the razors edge of an orgasm. Master Jensen had bound her hands to the footboard of the bed and forced her to bend at the waist while he worked her over with the crop. Arching her back she lifted her ass, hoping to tempt him into fucking her.
The crop ran over her rump. “Are you trying to tempt me?”
Anna tossed her head and looked at him. “Maybe. Is it working, Master?”
Master Jensen grinned. He was bare chested, his heavily muscled body gold in the warm light of the bedroom play space they were using. He wore faded jeans that dipped low on his hips. She could see the bulge of his cock behind the denim.
He brought the crop up from below, striking her dangling breast. Anna gasped as the sweet sting of pain sent little ripples of pleasure down her belly to her pussy. Reaching under her, he tugged at her nipple, toying with it while he swatted her ass with the crop.
She was wet and aching for him. He’d been playing with her for what seemed like hours.
Grabbing something off the bed he dropped to one knee beside her. Anna moaned as he pinched her nipples, then yelped as clamps bit down on her nipples.
“You like that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Master.”
“I want to hear you jingle while I fuck you.”
The crop landed on the bed and in the next moment his cock was sliding into her aching pussy. Anna grabbed the footboard, bracing herself as he fucked her hard and deep. With each thrust the bells dangling from her clamped nipples tinkled.
“You’re mine, Anna. Mine.”
“Yes, Master. I’m yours.”
“I still think ‘S’ is the scariest.”
The comment brought Anna’s attention back to the present. It came from a black sub, whose name Anna couldn’t remember, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a glass of water in one hand. She wore a thick collar and leather bra and panty set. “Spanking, speculums, strap-ons.”
“Stop,” Anna begged, holding up a hand to stop the litany. “I need to keep calm.” Thinking about Master Jensen was enough to have her wet and needy.
“Are you scheduled to be here this weekend?” Sarah asked.
“Yes. I’m supposed to be here with Master Jensen.” Anna had spent the last few days of her work week fantasizing about his hands on her body, his breath on her neck, his cock thrusting into her, pounding her until she couldn’t think.
“Oh, that means that—”
The speaker mounted in the ceiling hummed for a second before a robotic voice said, “Sub Anna. Orion Room.”
“—you might get called soon.” Mae finished.
Anna froze and time seemed to stand still. She’d been called, not to meet with Master Jensen, but with a Dom or Doms unknown. Anxiety was a heavy knot in her belly and yet she rose, moving on auto pilot, obeying the command to go to one of the play rooms. With a nod to the other submissives, Anna rose to her feet and left the safety of the Subs’ Garden, heading for the Orion Room and the unknown pleasures and pain that waited for her there.
It was empty. Anna closed the door and exhaled, shutting herself in the dark opulence of the Orion room. There were six rooms around the Constellation Courtyard and Anna had played in several of them, but never this one, which seemed larger than the others. Like all the rooms in this section of the mansion, the Orion room was a study of dark and light. The walls and ceiling were midnight blue and set with tiny lights meant to represent stars. She’d heard from the other subs that the constellations the rooms were named for were outlined in the lights. Anna had never been positioned on her back long enough to learn if that were true. Columns of light shot up from the floor, and spotlights in the ceiling shone down onto several play areas. In a place of honor in the center was a St. Andrew’s cross, the straps dangling loose, the metal buckles gleaming silver.
Anna adjusted her corset and stockings, and then padded over to an empty pool of light. She knelt there, assuming the waiting position Master Jensen preferred. If she’d been paired with a different Dom for this insane “game,” she might already be in trouble—every Dom had different preferences for how a sub should enter the room, how they should wait, and what they should, or shouldn’t, be wearing. Normally the sub would know all this going in, because the play time would have been negotiated, but she was trusting Las Palmas, and had to believe that whoever walked through the door would be skilled and experienced enough to dominate her. Her heart was fluttering in her chest and a shiver ran over her. She’d never imagined that anyone but Master Jensen would touch her again. She hadn’t felt this kind of anxiety in years. The feeling was similar to pre-first date jitters, but more powerful. A first date was nerve-wracking, but usually involved nothing more threatening than a kiss. The first time with a new Dom meant giving control of body and mind to someone.
The floor was glossy wood, and much nicer on her knees than the concrete in the barn. She focused on her breathing, taking each breath gently and carefully, noting the way the air felt as it passed over her lips and tongue. Normally this would be enough to take her in to sub-space, but she was too nervous. She’d become lazy and comfortable after so many months with Master Jensen. If the overseers had decided to do this a few months from now she would have been safely bonded and no one else would have been able to use her—but now she was alone, and risked not only her body and mind at the hands of an unknown player, but the ire of her Master.
The door opened and the fading sunlight that filled the courtyard streamed in, adding golden tones to the blues and whites of the room. Footsteps tapped across the wood, and the door swung shut, sealing her in here with a Dom she couldn’t yet see. She risked one glance at the wall then dropped her eyes. When the overseers turned what had once been bedrooms into play rooms, they eliminated the closets, using the space they gained to create viewing rooms sandwiched between the larger play spaces. Though it was difficult to see anything in the darkness beyond the spotlight, she knew there would be a large one-way mirror on the wall, which allowed people seated in the viewing room to watch what was happening, either for their own enjoyment or to protect those inside.
The tips of a pair of glossy black dress shoes appeared at the edge of the ring of light. Anna caught her breath, holding very still. Not Master Jensen—he wasn’t the dress-shoes type. Anna blinked to dispel the tears that gathered in her eyes. Up until that moment she’d secretly been expecting her Master, Master Jensen, to walk in to the room.
Should she refuse to submit? Should she use her safe word, get up and walk out? Anna tensed, unsure what to do.
The Dom didn’t say anything. Turning to the right, he circled her, staying in the shadows so that all she saw were his expensive shoes and the cuffs of his black dress slacks.
She could protest, say that she wouldn’t submit for anyone but Master Jensen.
He stopped in front of her and took one step forward, bringing everything up to his chest into the light. He wore a perfect black one-button suit with a crisp white shirt and thin black tie. His left hand was tucked into his pocket, pulling the side of his jacket back. His right hand was encased in a black leather glove. He pointed to her with the first two fingers on his right hand then tipped them up. Anna stared at him, not sure what she should do. It was the first time she’d failed to instantly obey an order in years.
After a moment of silence the Dom walked away. He stepped into the light, this time holding a riding crop and a pair of cuffs.
They were symbols, items so quintessentially linked to BDSM that when she saw them Anna remembered why she chose to submit, and what that submission meant. The overseers were right—her relationship with Master Jensen had made her complacent. Surrendering body and mind to gain sexual and emotional fulfillment had kept her sane. It was dangerous to forget that she didn’t just enjoy being mastered—she needed it.
She wouldn’t flee, wouldn’t protest being dominated by someone new, because though her emotions were involved with Master Jensen, she was a true submissive. She’d given Las Palmas power over her body and choices, and she would obey.
Anna took deep slow breaths letting go of her questions and worries. Her heart clenched, and there was still part of her that was crying out for her Master, but she was well trained, and would obey as she should. After a few minutes of practiced breathing she was calm, her body warm and ready for a Master’s touch.
“I’m sorry, Master. I’m yours to use as you see fit.” Her words hung in the air. Though his shoulders and head were still in shadow Anna could just make out the movement as he nodded.
Anna bowed her head, waiting for his first command.
The tip of the crop tapped the underside of her chin. Anna looked up. The Master dropped the cuffs to the floor and again gestured using two fingers.
Sub sign language.
When Anna had first been introduced to the world of BDSM she’d set out to learn everything she could about it, including taking an online class on “sub sign language” designed to be used to maintain secrecy in the vanilla world or when the Dom preferred silence. She’d never been with a Master who used it, but she had a bad feeling she might have indicated that she knew it on her BDSM Checklist.
Anna slowly rose to her feet, guessing as to what the gesture meant. The tip of the crop slid down her breasts. The Dom motioned again, this time raising pinky and thumb. Anna bit her lip, then clasped her hands together at the small of her back.
Crack
. The crop struck the bare skin of her thigh above the top of her stocking. Anna sucked in a little breath as he repeated the gesture. This time she raised her arms, lacing her fingers together behind her neck. The crop rose and Anna winced, hating that she’d made such a terrible first impression on this Dom. First she’d been hesitant to obey an order, now she wasn’t obeying correctly.
He touched the tip of the crop to the center of her forehead. Anna blinked, then closed her eyes. The folded leather slid down her cheek, over her chest to her right breast. She breathed a sigh of relief that she’d gotten it right. Her whole body was on alert. She’d forgotten how stimulating the fear or the unknown could be, and this Master was a dangerous mystery.
He took two steps and then the crop was gone, replaced by hands. He cupped and kneaded her breasts through the thin fabric of her corset and Anna couldn’t help but moan. The Dom slid his fingers beneath the material, lifting her right breast and then folding her corset down, creating a shelf for her now exposed breast, presenting it to him.
At the touch of the cool air her nipple beaded, and Anna wished she could squeeze her legs together to address the aching in her pussy. The danger this Dom presented and the unknown pleasures and pain that lay before her had her nearly at the point of climax.
The Dom walked away. Anna kept her eyes closed and focused on her breathing. She tried to stay in the moment, to be the good submissive she’d been trained to be, but she couldn’t stop her thoughts from shifting to Master Jensen. Would he be angry that another man was using her? He would. He’d be furious that anyone else had touched her, but he knew, as she did, that being a part of this lifestyle meant that until they made their relationship formal there were no guarantees.
If she’d been a different kind of woman—a woman who thought pain had no place in sex and that bruises from a lover’s hands were a sign of danger—she would have run screaming from Las Palmas rather than let another man touch her. But she was a submissive, and when she gave herself over to this life she did it wholly, and without reservation. She’d forgotten that for a moment, but wouldn’t make that mistake again. Her checklist would indicate that she was willing to play with any Dom, because she’d completed the list and set her personal limits before Master Jensen entered her life, and before they’d developed the relationship they now had.
Jensen was the Master. If he didn’t want her to be used by someone else, it was up to him to stop it.
That thought brought a little smile to her lips. Her job was to submit and obey—she shouldn’t have to worry or plan. She got to leave those things behind when she drove up the palm lined driveway.