Voyeur (9 page)

“It’s divine.”

“Big?”

“Yes.” She almost giggled at the naughtiness.

“Thick?”

She thought of his cock stretching her cunt wide, remembered the strength of him as he slammed into her. An image of herself in the mirror, her arse high, her anus filled with a plug, his hands on her hips as he held her steady for his penetration flashed through her mind. “Yes. He’s big. He’s thick.”

Darius sighed. “In that case, keep whining. And when he gets sick of it, send him my direction. I’ll show him and anyone else my stuff all day long.”

Shaking her head, she hung up.

Was it really that simple? Should she just follow his instructions and get over herself as Darius said?

She half expected to get another e-mail from him, but nothing came. She practiced her positions without much enthusiasm before going to bed. She slept in the nude for the first time ever.

Her dreams were vivid and disturbing, and when morning grey glare seeped through the curtains, she was in a foul mood.

She checked her phone for a message. There was none. And her e-mail box was empty except for an advertisement to help her erections stay stronger, longer.

She turned up the thermostat a couple of degrees, noticing the way her nipples were hard and the goose bumps on her arms.

As he’d instructed, she again practiced her positions. She definitely wanted them to be more fluid when she saw him again. But her muscles were a bit cramped after two days of unaccustomed use. She needed to be pampered and massaged.

Instead, she got to give herself an enema. That didn’t help her mood one little bit.

But the e-mail that arrived a few minutes later changed her attitude completely.

sub,

I didn’t sleep, thinking about my driver seeing your gorgeous cunt. I thought of you all night long.

I woke up with a hard-on, thanks to thoughts of you. Although I masturbated this morning, you’d better not.

—M. Zachary

Even that small amount of attention from him was enough. She wanted her inhibitions shattered, even if it meant being beyond her comfort zone. She wanted to submit. She wanted to submit to Zachary.

She showered and shaved her pubes again.

She took her time preparing. Each time she thought of a strange man looking at her naked body, she deliberately shoved it aside and instead chose to remember that her obedience pleased her Master.

The time ticked away, and she hurried to insert the plug.

Her arse was a bit sore from last night’s play, and she didn’t relax enough. The plug slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor. “Damn.” She washed it, relubed it and tried again.

On her third attempt, she managed to place it.

Aware of the clock ticking away the seconds to noon, she hurried to grab her nipple clamps.

In front of the mirror, she teased her nipples, squeezing them, rolling them between her thumb and forefinger, pinching them.

Then, when they were erect nubs, she placed the clamps. For a second, they took her breath away.

The clovers were vicious little things. Over time, they became a bit tighter. As she moved, they swayed, exerting pressure, making her hotter and hotter.

Master truly was a masochist.

She double checked her makeup, added an extra coat of mascara. The clamps seemed to dominate her image in the mirror. For an instant, she saw herself as Master Zachary might. She saw her body as ripe for his pleasure, rather than something to be ashamed of.

She cupped her breasts the way he had the night before, and she squeezed her nipples. The pressure from the clamps as well as her own touch combined to make her knees weaken.

She ached to just touch her neglected clitoris.

The orgasm, she knew, would be instant and shattering.

To distract herself and keep herself calm, she paced the floor near the front door.

Nerves swallowed her whole.

She kept reminding herself that she was doing this to please her Master. Then she had a stark realisation. She was pleasing her Master because that was what she wanted.

It was only a couple more minutes until Lionel arrived. Marnie tried to ignore the little thrill that unfurled in her stomach. No way could she be excited to have Lionel see her naked. No way could she be anticipating another man looking at her
stuff
.

At exactly noon, there was a rap on the door.

In a completely unladylike way, she gulped a breath of air.

Naked, except for the clamps and plug, she opened the door.

Oh, my, would Darius approve.

Lionel was delicious. Tall, slender, black as night, with a shaved head, he also had gorgeous full lips and warm brown eyes.

When he spoke, his voice was as atmospheric as a sultry Caribbean night. “Miss Marnie?”

She nodded, wondering where her voice was.

Without an invitation, he entered her flat and closed the door behind him. His gaze skimmed her body, and she stood there, nervously. “Nipple clamps,” he observed. “They’re tight enough, I presume?”

She nodded.

He grabbed the chain, his long fingers touching her skin for a second. She felt it like an electric jolt.

He tugged on the chain, making sure the clamps were in place. She winced. The very act of him tugging on them made them even tighter. With a nod of approval, he said, “Present, if you please.”

Forcing herself to act, she turned away from him and knelt.

“It was my understanding that you were to present yourself upon my arrival.”

Damn.

“Yes,” she whispered. “My apologies.” As elegantly as possible, she lowered herself into position, her buttocks thrust upward, her legs apart so he could see her cunt and the plug. She stretched herself out and splayed her fingers as Master Zachary had taught her.

She couldn’t believe she was doing this.

What was more, she couldn’t believe she was enjoying it.

 
“With your permission, I’ll inspect your labia for stray hairs.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Call me Lionel.”

She felt him part her labia. She blushed when his fingers slid effortlessly across her pussy because she was so damp.

He ran his fingers everywhere, checking to make sure she was presentable for Zachary.

“Master is one lucky man, dress, please.”

She grabbed her dress from the settee and pulled it over her head.

As if nothing untoward had happened, he led the way downstairs and held open the back door of the car for her.

Her entire body was strung tight with anticipation.

“Master will join you shortly,” Lionel told her when he showed her into the parlour of Master Zachary’s posh town home. “Be prepared.”

The room was dominated by a gorgeous marble fireplace. Western European antiques decorated its mantel. But the walls shocked her.

They were beautifully wallpapered, and dozens of mirrors were hung everywhere. Every size, every shape, some framed, some unframed.

Realising she’d already wasted some time, she pulled off her dress and dropped it on the floor.

She knelt up and awaited his arrival.

He didn’t disappoint.

He was beautiful in a white button-down shirt, and black dress pants. She feasted on him, and she realised his own eyes had darkened with approval.

“Those nipple clamps look painful.”

“They are, Master.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Present, Marnie. And spread your arse cheeks so I get a good look at your plug.”

The floor was cold beneath her torso. Her breasts were smashed against the unyielding marble, and the cold radiated through the clover clamps, making the pain sear.

“You haven’t run away.”

“No.”

“Tell me about Lionel inspecting your pussy.”

She turned her head to the side and realised he was watching her. Her body was obscene, with the way she exposed her needy cunt. “I…I mean the sub…”

“Refer to yourself in the first person in order to tell me the story.”

“I spent all night fussing about Lionel seeing me. Then I thought of how you had ordered it. Pleasing you pleases me.”

“Go on.”

“And by the time he arrived, I was a bit turned on.”

“Really?”

She closed her fingers together a little. “I was embarrassed a bit when he arrived. But then, when I saw the way he looked at me… My pussy was wet when he touched me.”

“What will I find when I touch you?”

“The sub is wet, Master.”

He slipped a finger between her folds. She watched in the mirror as his strong finger moved about, exploring her most private parts. “You haven’t had an orgasm since I left your flat?”

“No, Master.”

“You realise you have a punishment coming, still?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Kneel up, sub.”

Her motions a little more graceful than they had been yesterday, she did. He took a couple of steps towards her, and he was the only thing she could see.

Like Lionel had done, he took the chain. Instead of just a simple pull, he wrapped it in his fist. She gasped as he drew her towards him.

“This is much more effective than a leash.”

Her mouth opened, then she purposefully shut it again.

He unwrapped his fist, then released the clamps. She cried out as blood flowed back into them again.

He dropped the nasty metal clamps on the floor; they landed with a loud clatter. He knelt before her and, in turn, suckled on her nipples until they were no longer compressed, but instead, swollen little nubs.

“You decided not to run away.”

She nodded.

“Then you need to know what to expect.”

Why was her heart suddenly pumping at twice its normal rate?

“This evening, you’ll be punished for last night’s indiscretions. You recall what they were?”

She nodded slowly. “The sub referred to herself as I instead of in the third person.”

“What else?” he prompted.

“She climaxed without permission, even though it wasn’t her fault.”

“I’ve told you that feeling sorry for yourself doesn’t work with me.”

She frowned. “Yes, Master.”

“Even though you’re a novice, I will be inviting others to witness your punishment.”

She blinked, unable to comprehend.

“Voyeur becomes the viewed.”

She hadn’t exactly planned it that way.

“I will expect, going forward, that you will be in an observation room. I have it reserved for the next gathering at Master Theodore’s, as a matter of fact. I expect that you will be on display if I have a party, I will expect you to always be proud of your body and to show it to me at all times, as well as to anyone else I choose.”

“Master, the sub is new to all this.”

“Your interaction with Lionel was your first test. You passed.”

She scowled.

“By your own admission, you enjoyed it.”

Damn her big mouth, anyway.

“Mistress Beverly will be coming by with Esma. I’ve invited Darius and Mistress Jennifer, as well, but I’m still waiting on their confirmation. Susanna and Master Theodore have said they’ll be here. Only people you’re comfortable with.”

As if she wanted Darius to see her stuff, or any of those people at all.

She wanted to be petulant.

“Tell me to go to hell.” He paused. “Or ask for details of your punishment so you’ll be prepared.”

Chapter Nine

She struggled with the choice. For the first time, he’d really asked her to do something she was uncomfortable with.

He didn’t force the decision. And she knew that staying now would mean she was agreeing to a future of being on display for others to see. This man had tapped into her deepest, most secret fantasies, and the ones that frightened her the most. “It will be you giving the punishment?”

“It will.”

“And you won’t leave me…the sub…alone?”

“Not even for a moment.”

“You’ll…”

He waited.

“Fuck me?”

She searched his face for his reaction. She was becoming attuned to every little tic, every frown, every lightening or darkening of his eyes.

He smiled.

That expression of his approval was all she needed, all she’d ever really needed.

He picked her up and carried her up the stairs. “You’ll put your back out,” she teased.

“No chance.”

Unceremoniously he dumped her on the enormous four-poster bed in the middle of the room that screamed masculinity. Dark green walls, a maroon coloured bedspread, dark mahogany furnishings. His bedroom was as much of a force as he was. “I’ve had you from behind.” He grinned. “Now I’ll ravish you.”