The Dom returned, standing so close to her that she could feel the heat of his body. He stroked her right breast, the leather of his gloves buttery soft. He pinched her nipple, twisting and then lifting it until she gasped and rose onto her toes. He released her, leaving her right nipple throbbing and her left aching for want of the same treatment. Something cool touched the inner swell of her breast, tracing a path up to her collar bone and then down the other side. Anna wanted to open her eyes, but she obediently kept them closed. What had he applied to her breast?
He moved away and she heard the door open. Anna froze. Had he left, or someone else entered?
“Open your eyes to see your letter,” a female voice said.
Anna opened her eyes and looked around. She could see the shadowed outline of a woman kneeling five feet in front of her. The Dom was nowhere in sight.
Anna looked down at her bare right breast. It took her a minute to understand what the red lines painted there represented. Her lips twitched.
“A scarlet letter.” The painted ‘A’ glistened against her pale skin.
“Please position yourself on the St. Andrews cross,” the woman said.
Anna kept her hands behind her head, turned, and with a slow, graceful walk went over to the leather covered “X.” The bottoms of the leg portions ended in padded platforms. Anna positioned her back against the cross and then stepped up onto the platforms. It spread her legs wide, enough that there was no way to pretend she was anything other than on display. She unlinked her fingers and raised her arms, laying them along the upper pieces.
The woman had followed her, and when she stepped into the light Anna could see she too was a sub and naked except for a body chain that started in a choker around her neck, and draped and swaged its way down to her pussy. Clamps on her nipples and pussy lips helped hold the jewelry in place.
The dark haired sub attached straps around Anna’s ankles, thighs, waist, ribs, upper arms and wrists. When she was done, the sub turned and walked to the door, slipping out.
Anna was left alone to contemplate her situation. The St. Andrew’s cross leaned back slightly, and the center supported her back. On either side of her were large rectangular boxes, which she knew contained the mechanisms that allowed the cross to rotate from upright to flat and then to upside down, depending on how the Dom wanted to use the sub.
A minute passed, then five. Anna struggled to keep from screaming. If Master Jensen were here, he’d take one look at her and know what she needed—a good, hard fuck. She closed her eyes and imagined he was there, his rugged, scarred body naked from the waist up, his stubbled cheek scraping hers as he leaned in to demand that she beg to be fucked. When she did, he’d rip open his jeans and thrust his long, hard cock into her.
She was so lost in the fantasy that she didn’t register the sound of returning footsteps until they were close.
The Dom stepped into the circle of light. His face was shadowed by a fedora. All she could see was the edge of a smooth jaw. In his trim, elegant suit with the hat shading his face he looked like a celebrity hiding from photographers.
The brim of his hat dipped a bit as he looked her over. Anna could only hope what he saw pleased him. She was lightly muscled and toned—she worked hard for this body—but that didn’t mean he’d like it. Maybe he preferred larger breasts, or more curves. Maybe he liked girls with darker skin who wouldn’t bruise as easily.
He circled around behind her and took a fist full of her hair, pulling her head back so she was looking at the ceiling and the pattern of stars represented there.
“What’s our letter?” he whispered.
“A,” she replied. His hold on her hair tightened. “A, Sir,” she repeated, louder this time.
“What do you think is on our list?” He hissed the question.
Anna licked her lips. She had the first letter of the alphabet—lucky her.
“I don’t remember what’s on the list, Sir.”
He released her and walked away. From somewhere in the dark a whip cracked against the floor.
Anna whimpered at the implied threat. “I don’t remember, but I can guess, Sir.”
Silence.
“Anal,” she said. “Anal would be on there.” She shivered. Anna wasn’t an anal virgin by any means, but she didn’t have the same level of experience as many other subs did. She considered it foreplay. Anna never really felt satisfied unless a session ended with a good, hard pussy-fucking, but she knew there were Doms and subs who would do nothing but anal.
He returned, holding a dark blue velvet bag in one gloved hand, the crop in the other. Setting the bag down, he got out a pair of scissors. Anna knew what was coming. She spent more on lingerie in a month than some people did on their mortgage payments.
The Dom stroked her naked right breast, then pinched her left nipple through the material of her corset.
He undid the strap over her ribs, and started popping open the front closures of her corset. Anna was surprised—she’d been sure he would cut it off, but instead he opened it down the front and pulled the fabric free from behind her back, tossing it to the side. He ran the tip of the scissors lightly down the center line of her body, then flipped it in his hand and rubbed the curved handle against the mound of her sex.
Anna jerked forward, gasping at the sudden spike of pleasure. She hadn’t been expecting the touch, didn’t have time to think—only react.
He chuckled lightly and she glanced up. The warm chuckle was exactly the kind of response Master Jensen would have had and for a moment her gaze narrowed, examining the Dom, but it wasn’t Master Jensen. He was shorter and broader than this Dom. His legs brushed hers as he refastened the strap across her ribs.
Pulling the leg of her panties away from her hip, he snipped through the fabric with the scissors, then repeated the action on the other side before tucking the scissors back into the velvet bag. Her panties clung to her, stuck to the wet flesh of her pussy. He pressed the fabric into the crevice of her sex with his flingers, then lightly stroked her clit.
“Sir, I’m going to come,” she gasped after only a few moments. She was too wet, too ready—she couldn’t control herself, couldn’t delay the pleasure.
“No.”
He pulled the fabric away, lifting it to his face and inhaling before casting it aside. She was now naked except for her garter and stockings. Lifting the crop, he used the tip to flick each of her nipples, then tap the mound of her sex—both of which were things she loved.
Tingles of pleasure and anticipation rippled through her as he stepped back. She wanted him to do it again, to strike her most sensitive and vulnerable places with the crop. The Dom stripped off his jacket, throwing it aside with none of the care the fine garment deserved. Next went the tie.
He rolled his shoulders and opened the neck of his shirt. “Ready, love?”
The Dom removed the hat, and with a flick of his wrist, sent it spiraling off into the darkness of the Orion room.
Master Jensen grinned at her.
“Master!” Anna gasped.
Master Jensen prowled forward, planting his hands on either side of her and leaning his face towards hers.
“Who did you think it was?”
“You’re wearing a suit.” He never wore suits.
He wrapped a fist in her hair and growled. “Do you want to rephrase that?”
Anna licked her lips. “I mean, I was surprised that you were wearing a suit, Master.”
“I wanted to surprise you. Did you really think I’d let anyone but me touch you?”
Anna’s lips twitched. “I knew you’d be upset, Master.”
“And did you want another man doing this?” He reached between her legs and tugged on the lips of her sex.
“I’m happy to serve any Dom.” Anna blinked innocently.
“How noble and obedient,” Master Jensen growled.
“The greatest pleasure is to serve.”
“And it doesn’t matter who you serve?”
“Of course not, Master. I serve all equally.” It was the right thing to say, but the words felt off.
Master Jensen’s lips twitched. “Liar.” He slid two fingers deep into her pussy. “You know no one will ever fuck you the way I do.”
It was true, she was a liar. While the possibility of the unknown had aroused her in a way she wasn’t used to, seeing Master Jensen had taken it to a whole new level—he knew her, body and mind, in a way no one else on earth did. Another Dom offered the possibility of pleasure. Master Jensen guaranteed it.
He didn’t look like himself—he was a worn-jeans and bare-skin man. The suit and clean shave, as well as the cologne that masked his natural scent, had been an effective disguise. His dirty blond hair was parted and combed, something she’d never seen before. Now that she knew it was him, she realized the cut of the suit made his broad shoulders look narrower.
“The overseers knew I wouldn’t be happy if anyone but me was partnered with you.”
“That’s very possessive, Master.”
He continued to lazily fuck her with two fingers as they talked. “You’re going to be mine, permanently.”
“I look forward to that.”
“So do I.” He kissed her hard and deep, invading her mouth with his tongue even as he pressed a third finger into her pussy.
They were both panting when he pulled back. Slipping his fingers from her sex, he lifted them to her lips. Anna licked her juices from his hand.
“Do you like your scarlet letter?” He tweaked her right nipple.
“Very literary, Master.”
“You never told me what you think is on our list, besides anal.”
“That’s the only one I can think of.”
“Do you want to know?”
“Are you going to tell me, Master?”
“Damn right I am. I can’t wait to see your face.”
He crouched next to the velvet bag, reached in, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. As he leaned forward, the shirt stretched across his shoulders. The material was thin and she thought she could almost make out the patches of scar tissue on his back. He’d never said it, but Anna was sure that one of the reasons he went shirtless so much was that he was daring someone to say something about his injuries.
“Can you guess the first one?” He waved the paper back and forth.
“Anal?”
“No.”
“Anal…something?”
“You seem anxious to have me play with your tight little ass. It’ll happen. But not yet.”
He reached back into the bag and pulled out a hair brush. It was wide, with a wooden back and board bristles. Anna bit her lip. She couldn’t wait to feel the back of that brush smacking her ass.
“Does this give you a hint?” He asked.
“Spanking.”
“That doesn’t start with ‘A.’” Master Jensen pressed a button on the electronic base beside her and the cross started to rotate. Anna’s head went down as her feet came up. He switched off the spotlight that was directly overhead and activated two others that were offset to the sides, allowing her to look up at the field of indoor stars above her. He reached under her and pulled the neck piece into position, giving her something to rest her head against.
He laid the brush, bristle side down, on her stomach between the straps and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “This list means I’m going to push us, both of us. They weren’t wrong when they said we were complacent. I never want you to be bored.”
“I never will be, Master.”
One corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin. “Then we’d better get started. After we’ve played their game, I think we might have to do our own version and go through the complete alphabet.”
He unfolded the sheet of paper. “Here’s the list: abrasion, age play, anal sex, anal plugs small, anal plugs large, anal plugs in public under clothes, animal roles, arm binders, aromas, asphyxiation and auctioned for charity.”
His words hung in the room, exciting and terrifying.
“Of those, you didn’t check animal roles and anal plug under clothes. I don’t like age play or auctioned for charity. That leaves six things, most of which involve your tight ass.”
“Asphyxiation?” she asked. That one scared her. Technically any kind of breath play was illegal in California. She couldn’t believe that she’d opted for that one.
Jensen held up her list so she could see where she’d initial the box “willing to try” next to that item.
“Don’t you trust me, Anna?”
“Of course, Master.”
“Then trust me.”
Jensen picked up the brush and looked at the beautiful woman bound and waiting before him. Anna was his. He wanted and needed her on a base level. Out there, in the vanilla world, he did his best to act normal, but he wasn’t. Life had stripped him bare, leaving him feeling more animal than human sometimes. BDSM gave him a way to express his base needs without hurting himself or his partner.
In another few months he’d be bonded to Anna, the formal ties between Master and sub cemented in the eyes of their BDSM community. After that neither of them would touch another person sexually without the consent of the other. In a world where monogamy was considered passé, they would be the exception. Maybe someday he wouldn’t feel so raw, and he’d be able to include others in their sexual exploration, but for now it was all he could do to keep from tearing away the expensive suit pants another Dom had loaned him as a disguise and fucking her until neither of them could think.
Picking up the brush, he stroked the fronts of her thighs with the smooth wooden back. He’d gotten a quick and dirty lesson on abrasion play in the Masters’ lounge, and there were Doms on the other side of the glass who could help if he needed it, but for now he’d make do with what he knew, and let Anna’s reactions guide him the rest of the way.
Flipping the brush over, he stroked her thigh with the stiff bristles. She jerked a little.
“Does that hurt?”
“No, Master, it surprised me.”
“The purpose of abrasion is to make your skin sensitive, so that even the lightest touch is both pleasure and pain.”
He carefully undid her garters and pushed her stockings to her knees. He stroked the front of each thigh ten times. Her skin grew pink, and faint lines appeared where some of the stiffer bristles had passed.