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An Experiment in Submission

I learn the pleasures of submitting to my Master.
Ahhh, Dragon*Con. Fantasy and science-fiction mecca for the freaks, geeks, nerds, and their groupies. Once a year, this ever-growing crowd of introverts and odd near-geniuses congregates in the hotel center of downtown Atlanta to pay cult-like homage to games, literature, art, music, and films of the weird and strange variety. Essentially, it's three days of LARP-ing. What a blast.

I was standing by the pool at the center of it all, the Hyatt Regency hotel, a cigarette poised between my lips, and I was engaging in my favorite activity during this parade of the weird: people-watching. I loved the endless stream of costumes that walked past; there were several Supermen, one Darth Vader, a crowd of Stormtroopers, a giant Hello Kitty, and something vaguely resembling... duct tape man? That was just in the last five minutes. I took a pull off my cig, enjoying the nicotine rush that spread through my body.

While everyone around me seemed to be trying to be something else as loudly as inhumanly possible, I was rather mundanely dressed. I'd chosen a mid-thigh, pleated, red plaid skirt, paired with a tight, black, baby-doll shirt with a large, bright white star emblazoned on the front. The black, knee-high, front-lacing, ass-kicking boots I was sporting added four inches to my height, making me nearly six feet tall. A shiny, jingly chain belt hugged my hips at a slant, and the multiple silver rings on my fingers winked in the hot August afternoon sun. Black fingernail polish, black eye makeup, and black lipstick completed the Goth ensemble. Still, even in my “costume”, I felt as if I stuck out like a sore thumb.

Another drag from my cig, and the thing was nearly to the filter. I looked around for an ashtray and discarded the stub. Where the hell were they? I'd been standing out there for nearly half an hour waiting on my buddies for the weekend, Isaac and Liz. We'd all gone in together on a room at the Marriott, just behind the Hyatt and part of the venues for convention festivities. Among other things, the Marriott housed the Dealer and Exhibitor Hall, essentially a bazaar of anything and everything con attendees would want to buy. Dice, cards, swords, comic books, movies, music, art, clothing, jewelry... you name it, they had it. It was a consumer wonderland for the geek world. Isaac, Liz and I were supposed to meet up at the pool and go frolic in this place of wondrous delights for the afternoon. Liz and I wanted real costumes. I'd had my heart set on a cape, and maybe a long, flowing princess dress. Hey, every girl can dream.

I checked my phone for messages again, and sighed in exasperation. Just as I was entering a WTF text into the display, a strong, long arm gripped me from behind and I was suddenly airborne. I squealed in surprise and kicked my legs ineffectually, the restraining arm at my waist and the hard body at my back holding me up and swaying me from side to side. Just as quickly, my unknown attacker put me back down on the ground and I jumped away, fearful of a repeat performance. I turned, ready to give this offender a severe tongue lashing, but instead my lips broke out in a wide grin.

“Wayne!”

He was insanely tall, his long, rangy body encased in a white tee shirt and black leather pants. The shit-kickers on his feet were kin to my boots. A spiked leather bracelet was wrapped tightly around his right wrist, and I was grateful he hadn't picked me up with that arm. Blond, Dread Pirate Roberts style hair framed his square jawed face, while wide, full lips filled the space in between. Those enticing lips were engaged in a toothy grin as he looked me up and down with mischief in his baby blues.

“Star! What a lovely surprise.” Wayne talked like that.

I threw myself into his arms, hugging him tightly. I hadn't seen Wayne in nearly two years, since I'd graduated from Tech. He wrapped his long, strong arms around me, his large, beautifully-shaped hands sliding over my sides and just grazing the underside of my breasts. I felt a little sizzle of heat at the unintended contact, smiling to myself while he couldn't see my face. Wayne was hot. I'd always thought so. That long, carelessly muscled frame, those wide, intelligent eyes, and that mouth that almost always curved in a smile had drawn many a surreptitious glance, from me and every other female in the vicinity.

I pulled away, my fingers trailing over his wide shoulders and down his arms, to his hands, then away to my sides. His eyes had an amused twinkle and his smile had turned slightly crooked and perhaps a little knowing.

“It's great to see you! Will you be here all weekend? What's up with your life?” I'd gone motormouth on him. It happens when I get nervous.

He laughed. “It's great to see you, too. Yeah, I'm here all weekend. Got a room over in the Marriott that I'm sharing with a couple of buddies.”

I clapped excitedly and said, “No shit! I'm at the Marriott too! I'm here with Isaac and Liz. We're splitting the room cost.”

Wayne gave me a funny look and it took me a second to interpret.

“Oh, no! No no, it's nothing like that ! Two beds, I get one of them all to myself.”

Wayne chuckled, then gave me another once over. I felt heat creep up my neck and into my face as he took stock of my getup. I'm not really a Goth, I just like playing one on T.V.. When his eyes got back to mine, there was something different in his stare. There was a speculative glint, something a little dark and slithery that sent a thrill along my spine. Had Wayne just checked me out? This was totally out of left field. Wayne and I had never crossed paths in that way, mostly because I'd been in a committed relationship back in the day. That had since gone by the wayside and I was currently free and unattached. The sudden and insistent thought that Wayne might be interested and I might be willing had wicked little butterflies flapping around under my skin.

Isaac and Liz picked that moment to show up. They rushed out of the throng of live action heroes, villains, and Japanimation characters, giggling like maniacs and groping each other incessantly. I could only guess on their activities of the last two hours, but my guess would probably have been spot on: copious amounts of coke, followed by rowdy sex. Rinse, repeat. Not for the first time, I wondered if sharing a room with these two was the smartest thing to do. I didn't do hard drugs, and neither was I interested in getting dragged into their sex play. Ah well. Nothing for it now.

Liz gripped my arm as she stumbled to a halt, a drug-aided permagrin plastered on her face.

“Heyyy! Sorry we're late. We got... uh, caught up.” She mumbled something else, and giggled.

I gave her a half smile and helped prop her upright.

“No problem. I found some company,” I said, gesturing to Wayne.

Isaac leaned over, nearly unbalancing himself, and held out his large, beefy paw. Wayne gripped it strongly.

“Hey man! Long time no see. You here for the weekend?” Isaac pulled his hand back and tapped out a couple of cigarettes.

Wayne grinned and shrugged, “Yeah. Staying with a couple of buddies at the Marriott.”

Isaac lit up, then placed a cig in Liz's mouth. “Ah! Rad, we're staying there too.”

The way his eyes waggled when he said “we're” left little to the imagination about what he hoped would occur in our room, and I looked down and rolled my eyes at the ground. I heard a soft chuff from Wayne and looked up to see his eyes sparkling with laughter. I grinned his way and felt instantly better.

We stood around awhile longer, chatting about what celebs were attending and what events were going to be the best. Isaac being Isaac, he brought up a private event happening that night, a fetish club that was being hosted at the Marriott ballrooms. There was something for everyone at Dragon*Con. I caught the twinkle in Wayne's eye and wondered, not for the first time since I'd known him, if he was indeed into that sort of thing. When Isaac and Liz had finished their cigarettes, we parted ways, agreeing to meet up later to hang some, maybe even at that fetish event. Wayne took my hand and gave it a quick squeeze, then leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“Wear something black and sexy. I'll find you.”

I watched in surprise as his lithe form disappeared into the throng. Then I was being yanked away to shopping nirvana.

* * *

The bazaar, as I like to call it, is the funnest place for me at the Con. I love wandering the aisles, coveting all the merchandise, imagining the sort of person I'd have to be in order to buy an entire set of onyx dice, or a double edged palm blade. There were so many vendors and dealers, each with a unique and intriguing set of wares. We turned a corner and found several booths dedicated to leather goods. There were masks, bracelets, bags, boots, and the dealers were busy making more goods on their worktables.

Something caught my attention as I was walking by one of the booths that sold leather masks. I wandered in and looked through the selection, feeling sure there was something for me in this booth. Then, I saw the corner of a mask, half buried under a pile of others waiting for room to open up to be displayed. I reached down and pulled it out. It was a Venetian style masquerade mask with a simple cut and style. The beauty was in the etched scroll work around the eyes and over the nose bridge. The background of the mask was dyed a glossy black, while the scroll work had been done in glossy red. Simple black leather thongs were used to tie it in place. I was in love. I went to a mirror in the booth and then, while looking at my reflection, I slowly moved the mask over my face. The effect was stunning. I looked like a completely different person, sultry, adventurous, and a little dangerous. A surprisingly strong but familiar stirring began in my core as I looked into my eyes through the mask.

“The mask suits ye.”

I jumped and turned around. A short, stocky, red-haired man with a scruffy beard and a Scottish brogue stood by a worktable, a mask in one hand and a leather-working tool in the other.

“Thanks,” I said, a little perturbed that I hadn't noticed him before. “Um, how much for it?”

He scratched his head and squinted his eyes, as if trying to remember the cost.

“Weeeell, that p'rticular mask's some o' me finest werk. I should'a charge ye 'bout three hondred fer it,” he said.

I blanched a little. I couldn't afford it. With a sigh and a last look at it, I went to set it back down on the pile I'd found it in. A cough behind me had me turning around again.

“Tell ye what, lassie. Since ye found the mask that suits ye in a heapin' pile o' perfectly good masks, an' since ye found it on the first try, I'll give ye a discount. How's seventy-five sound?”

I nearly swallowed my tongue. Giving the little man an enthusiastic nod, I pulled out my money and paid what he asked. He nodded and smiled, as if the ridiculously reduced transaction had pleased him. He ambled over to the stack of masks and carefully took up the one I'd bought. Back at the worktable, he held it up and inspected it, as if looking for any flaws. Then, he wrapped the mask in tissue paper, placed it in a small paper sack, and handed it over.

I bowed my head and thanked him, then turned and wandered away to catch up with Isaac and Liz. They had stopped at a booth further down the corridor, one that sold more risqué leather goods. Whips, crops, handcuffs and other assorted fetish gear ranged the walls. The dealer here was clad in black and pierced to the nines. His jet black hair was spiked in deadly looking spears. As I walked over, he looked me up and down, a lascivious smile stretching his thin lips. Isaac looked like he was trying to talk Liz into getting something hanging on the wall by the nipple clamps. Not wanting anything to do with that conversation, I perused along the far wall.

Leather collars in all shapes and sizes adorned the surface. A sign indicated that every collar came with a leash, free of charge. As I studied the display, a picture started forming in my mind of what I might want to look like in my costume. It was decidedly darker than a princess dress. I found one that was about an inch wide, with a simple, metal buckle and a wide D-ring riveted to the front. Pulling it off the wall, I checked the price. Twenty bucks. I could do that. I found a mirror and placed the collar so that the D-ring faced forward about halfway along the column of my neck. As I went to buckle it, I saw the dealer come up behind me in the mirror.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

He took the buckle and tongue of the collar from my hands and swiftly put them together, tightening the collar around my neck. I gasped as he overtightened it and held the tongue taught. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, I saw the cruel twist of his lips and the creepy, dark light in his eyes. He leaned down to my ear and spoke.

“What's the matter, pet? Too tight?”

His blatant enjoyment of my discomfort made me angry. Reaching back, I grabbed the hand holding the leather tongue and sunk my black fingernails slowly into the flesh. I watched as pain and something like fear leaked into his stare. He released the tongue and I his hand, then I undid the collar and slowly removed it from my neck. I turned around and stared him down, stone-cold control in my eyes. He withered under my gaze and I leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“ Not without permission, dog .”

His eyes expressed a mixture of awe and deference as I walked past him to the cash counter and put down the collar.

“I'll take this. Oh, and the leash, too.”

As I completed the transaction with the now submissive dealer, I noticed that both Isaac and Liz had stopped their perusing and were just staring. I turned to them and gave them a bright, winsome smile and they both returned it, albeit a bit apprehensively. I'm pretty sure they'd never seen that side of me, the unbending dominant. It wasn't something that I expressed very often outside of the bedroom. I gestured for them to come over.

“I've had an idea for costumes,” I said. Liz looked down at the collar and smiled.

“Did you, now?” Isaac was eying the leash as he said this, one hand coming to play with the bright red growth of beard at his chin.

I grinned. “We could dress up as slaves! I'm sure we can find something appropriately skimpy.”

Liz giggled and Isaac actually grunted. Oh yeah, he was liking this idea. Little did he know I had no intention of being his slave. I got them to purchase another collar, this one for Liz. Then we walked out and went in search of our outfits.

* * *

Why does dressing up as slaves work at a science-fiction and fantasy convention? The answer is as simple as human nature. Sex appeal. Every fictional universe, every story line, every misadventure, no matter how wildly different from the next, will have a place for slave girls. I smiled to myself as I zipped up the glossy black leather high-heeled knee boots I'd brought along with me for evening escapades. They hugged my calves tightly, giving the impression of painted-on latex. I let my hands glide up my bare thighs to the hem of my unique short skirt, where interconnected black metal disks jingled melodiously. The metal was warm to the touch, my body heat transferring easily through the thin layer of satin between the metal chain and my skin.

We had finally found some worthy costumes. Liz and I were a matched set in skimpy, two-piece chain mail “suits”, hers red and mine black. Flat metal disks about three-quarter inches in diameter with four holes punched through them were linked together with small, silver rings, creating rippling, chain-link cloth. The top half of the ensemble was shaped like a diamond with the top corner removed. Two thin, silver chains linked to the top corners of the cropped peak extended up and clasped together behind the neck, creating a halter. More chain connected the two side corners of the diamond around the back. The bottom peak of the diamond hung loose over the midriff, stopping just below the belly button and leaving the sides of my ribcage and waist bare. Except for the thin, silver chain, my back was fully exposed. The bottom half of the costume was just as skimpy, taking the same chain-link cloth and shaping it into a rectangle that wrapped around my hips and buttocks. Three silver chains connected the metal rectangle along one hip, leaving most of the skin there completely naked. This stylized miniskirt was just long enough to be decent.

I ran my eyes over my image in the bathroom mirror and felt the unavoidable tug of arousal zing through my blood. The collar I had purchased earlier sat on the bathroom counter, and I picked it up now to fix it in place. I raised my chin a bit and moved the collar into place, closing my eyes to feel my way through doing up the buckle. My fingers trembled slightly at the idea of wearing such a symbol of submission out in the open, and I had to remind myself yet again that I was assuming a costume role. It wasn't real. I opened my eyes and gasped softly. That tug of arousal pounded louder through my body as the collar transformed me from a self-possessed woman into a wanton slave. My eyes went to the chain leash with the leather handle that had come with the collar. I gripped the clasp and watched in the mirror as I clipped it to the D-ring of the collar.

Holy hell. What was I doing? I let the long leash dangle from my neck, then took the looped leather handle and slipped it over my own wrist. That felt better. At least this way I was master of myself. I felt my heart rate slow down a bit. Now, there was only one thing missing. Earlier, I had used some black face paint to color my eyelids and the area surrounding my eyes. The mask was sitting on the sparkling granite counter top. It caught the light across its glossy surface as I picked it up and turned it around to fix it to my face. Again, I closed my eyes and focused on the movements of my fingers as they pulled the leather thongs taught across my temples and to the back of my head. I tied them securely in place, then arranged my short, sleek cap of mahogany hair so that it fell in place over the tie. I straightened and opened my eyes.

I can only describe my reflection as sex personified. I'm not being arrogant or self-aggrandizing. The simple fact is that at that moment I wanted to do the person in the mirror. I wanted to yank that leash and make her beg to be had. I closed my eyes and leaned on the counter, breathing hard. I was so fucking aroused, and we hadn't even gone out yet. My thighs were slick and sticky with my juices, and I rubbed them together enjoying the delicious friction. I considered adding a g-string to my costume, simply to catch my freely flowing nectar, then discarded the idea in deference to the purity of the role. I had a feeling this was going to be one hell of a night. Wayne was going to be floored.

Steeling myself, I stood straight and looked at my reflection again. This time, I was ready for the punch of lust that sizzled in my blood. I took that heady energy and fed it to my self-control. That's right, I was in control. I turned to the bathroom door and opened it, walking out into the hotel room.

Isaac was just attaching the last clasp on Liz's costume. His hands seemed to be taking an inordinately long time to complete the task, straying to caress the milky white skin of Liz's hip. I reached for my purse and rummaged through it, coming up with my I.D., some cash, and the room card. My outfit didn't really have a place for any of these things, so I leaned down and unzipped my boot. I arranged the items as comfortably as I could, then zipped back up. When I straightened, I looked over and found two pairs of eyes following my every move. I smiled darkly at them.

“What?”

Isaac cleared his throat and turned slightly, his hands going to his pants and adjusting what I presumed was a growing hard-on. Liz didn't move. She didn't have her collar on yet, and I wanted to be done and gone. I wanted to prowl, to wander and hunt down my prey. I had someone in mind, and I was ready to be on my way.

I walked slowly toward Liz. The closer I got, the more she looked to me like a deer caught in headlights. She was breathing fast, her fingers nervously running over the metal of her skirt. I picked up her collar from the dresser, and while Isaac watched with slack jaw, I placed a finger under Liz's chin, raised it slightly, then wrapped the collar around her slender neck. I moved in and worked the buckle and tongue together behind her neck. Holding the tongue so that the collar sat snugly against her skin and found Liz's eyes. They were dilated, dark limpid pools of need and want.

“Is that too tight?”

Her eyes went to my mouth and I had the distinct impression she wanted to kiss me. Too bad, I wasn't hungry for her. I tugged on the leather tongue and she gasped a little. Looking back into my eyes, she shook her head. I smiled patiently and engaged the buckle, then reached down for the leash and clicked it onto the ring. For just a moment, with her leash in my hand, I toyed with the idea of giving Isaac a show. But as satisfying as it would have been, it wouldn't have scratched the itch that had settled between my shoulder blades. There was only one person who could do that, and I was intent on finding him.

I turned to Isaac and noticed with disassociated interest that he did indeed have one hell of a hard-on going. Not wanting to give him the wrong impression, I worked my gaze into steel before I met his eyes. He wasn't prepared. The raw lust was palpable, and I could tell he wanted to try to break my resolve. I stood straighter and very deliberately shook my head no. Then I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, raised it up, and placed Liz's leash in his big hand.

“This is your slave for the night. I'm not on the menu,” I said. Then I turned on my heel and walked to the door.

* * *

Nights at Dragon*Con are much like the days. It's really just a never-ending costume party. I lost count of the number of Stormtroopers I saw. They would all be in the parade tomorrow morning, but tonight they ran around and partied with the best of them. Photo ops occurred with frequency, the best costumed masqueraders often camping out in one spot for hours just to pose and be photographed by others. Various evening musical events were scheduled into the agenda in any number of ballrooms throughout the hotel network, with music ranging from the melodic woodwinds and strings of The Changelings to the satirical heavy metal of GWAR. There was something for everyone, even those of us looking for something a bit more on the sensually risqué side of entertainment.

After doing a circuit around the various public spaces of the con, we headed for the section of ballrooms in the Marriott that was set aside for the fetish style nightclub arrangement. It was invitation only, and Isaac being who he was and knowing as many people as he did, had scored an invite. I doubted anyone there would have a problem with him walking in with two nearly naked slave girls. We made our way to the ballroom. At the closed doors stood a large, muscled bouncer, arms crossed over an impressive chest. He was practically shrink-wrapped in black leather, the buttery-soft looking material blending nearly perfectly with his dark, coffee-colored skin. He stretched out a massive palm and Isaac placed a black square of card stock in it. Glancing down, the brick wall of a man studied the silver ink on the invite, then looked up at us. He took each one in turn, meeting my eyes last. I saw the instant interest, the gathering heat in his stare, but I didn't give an inch. He produced an entrance stamp and placed a glyph on the inside of our wrists. Reaching behind him, he opened the ballroom door to smoke, darkness, and thumping music. Isaac nodded and led Liz inside. I gave the bouncer a dismissive look and walked into the black.

Here, in the misted darkness, the senses ruled. The music thumped a primitive beat, the air shimmered with colored lights and strategically placed mirror balls. Walls of dark fabric hung from the ceiling far above, creating the impression of halls and rooms. Chains dripped like candle wax over black-covered partitions, their shiny surfaces catching and throwing the lights. Scents tantalized, everything from sage to patchouli, and the spicier, more enticing dragon's blood. It was a truly amazing transformation, considering what one of these ballrooms looks like on any given day.

Black-clad bodies stood, sat, and danced everywhere. As we walked through, most would look at our little group with a mixture of interest, awe, jealousy, and lust. I kept my eyes straight ahead, not interested in making friends with any of these. Somewhere nearby I heard the unmistakable sound of a crop or short whip slapping exposed flesh, then the excited moan of the recipient.

We came out of the fabric halls into a large dance floor. Masses of people writhed in pantomimes of sex. Many of them wore collars, some with leashes in the hands of others. As far as I could see, I was the only one holding my own leash. The power that symbolized made me feel heady. I didn't really need a drink, but we made our way to the bar anyway and ordered up some shots. Amazingly, it was an open bar. I couldn't imagine the amount of money necessary to pull something like this off, but I mentally thanked whoever was responsible. The atmosphere was perfect.

The drink was strong and I contemplated the wisdom of having another. I wanted to maintain my control, and nothing breaks that down like the buzz of alcohol. I still hadn't located Wayne. I was starting to think maybe I wouldn't get to scratch that itch. I looked over to where Isaac and Liz had been, only to find the space empty. Searching the crowd, I found them locked in each other's arms, Isaac pulling on Liz's leash as they undulated on the dance floor. At least that particular issue had been settled. I moved my gaze away from them and then... there he was.

Wayne appeared as if by magic out of the writhing bodies, a tall, powerful form moving with amazing grace. I was transfixed by his approaching form, black silk shirt flowing, leather pants tightening and shifting as he stalked. His straw-colored hair was parted down the middle and hung straight like twin waterfalls down to his chin. I sucked in a shuddering breath as I looked in his eyes and found what I'd been seeking. Ruthless, taking, owning. There was no question in his stare, no pleading request. His gaze bore into me and instantly I was his.

He stopped his advance mere inches from me. In one quick, fluid move, he gripped my wrist and raised it up so I could see what he would do. My eyes had gone wide and my mouth was dry. Other parts of me were not quite so. I could feel the quiver in my core, the lubricating juices dripping out and coating the insides of my thighs as Wayne reached up and divested my wrist of the leather loop attached to the end of my leash. My heart beat a fast rhythm as he slipped the loop on, then gripped the chain and began inexorably winding the links around his strong, long-fingered hand. When the leash was nearly entirely wrapped, he gripped the remaining six or so inches and yanked me forward. I felt the control, the power he had over me in that first pull, and part of me fought and screamed to be free. He must have seen it in my eyes, in the way I pulled back slightly and held my head high, because the light that came into his stare was nothing short of murderous. He pulled me close enough to whisper in my ear, even as I strained away from him.

“Don't you fucking dare.”

I went still as I felt his other hand graze over my exposed back. God, the feeling was electric. He ran just the tips of his fingers over my rib cage, then under the edge of my top. The tip of his long, thin index finger grazed the lower swell of my breast and I nearly lost it. My entire body wailed to be done with the charade, to simply take what I wanted, and what I wanted just then were his beautiful cherub's bow lips on mine. His warning, though, had sounded sincere. For a split second, I wondered what would befall me if I disobeyed. Simply considering it had my nether lips quivering on the edge of release. Then I was yanked out of my reverie, as Wayne spoke again.

“You will come with me, slave.”

His tone brooked no argument, and yet I considered resisting. His eyes, though, when they came back to mine were frozen pools of cold, steely control. I found I could not resist, and for the first time in a very long time, I looked away first.

“Yes, that's a good slave. You will come with me, won't you, slave?”

Wayne punctuated the question with a quick yank of the leash. If he hadn't just made me look away, the apparent request would have put my back up and I might have struggled more against his control. As it was, I breathed in a shuddering breath, my defiance beginning to bubble up again. He was quicker, though, gripping my wrist and pulling it behind my back before yanking me against his hard body. I reveled in the feel of taught muscle as I felt his lips against the edge of my jaw. My rebellious body moved against him, hard metal edges pressing sharply into my mashed breasts.

“Answer your Master.”

I took a breath but no words came out. Wayne tightened his grip on my wrist, pulling up slightly so that my shoulder twinged at the edges of faint pain. It was like lighting a match to my volatile blood. I gasped, subdued, aroused beyond caring.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come.”

I very nearly did, right there and then, but he released my wrist and turned away. The leash unfurled from his hand until just the leather handle remained gripped in his fingers. I waited until the links were taught before moving. Even in the face of his unbending will, I still wanted to poke the bear. He didn't even pause, just yanked on the leash. I felt the slick friction between my thighs and began swaying my hips as I walked, the extra motion bringing some much desired attention to my sensitized clit. It didn't really help, and I found myself feeling achy and frustrated as Wayne led me back into the labyrinth of black cloth halls. I was oblivious to anything or anyone else around me, and I would later find out from Isaac and Liz that they and several others had watched the entire exchange with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

* * *

The room he led me to was not decorated in your typical hotel fashion. The ceiling and the walls of the large suite were draped in flowing black velvet, much like the cloth halls of the fetish club. Tall, fat tapers were grouped on pillars, pedestals, and the floor; they glowed like will-o'-the-wisps, flames casting dancing shadows. A large, black sheeted bed stood against the center of the far wall, but that wasn't what sent my heart rate tripping over itself in quickly building panic. In the ample space between the foot of the bed and the opposite wall, there stood a sturdy platform about hip height. The dim, dancing light gleamed off of large, steel eye hooks that had been bolted at the corners and the centers of each side.

Ranged along the nearest wall, in a splendid, terrifyingly arousing display, were tools. Some of these I recognized, having seen them on the display racks at the fetish shop from earlier in the day. Others were completely foreign to me. Even so, I could see the potential for some serious pleasure, and pain, in the entire collection. I shuddered involuntarily. The slight movement must have transferred to the leash, because Wayne turned to me and cocked his head slightly. His eyes were so cold and hard, the icy control sending further shivers up my spine and into my tense muscles. I was steeped in adrenaline, and even though he held my leash, had essentially taken my control, my instinctual response was for fight, not flight. I stood straight, pulled my shoulders back, and returned his gaze.

His lips curved up in a small, sharp sneer as he slowly stalked back to me.

“Ah, my slave has some fire. I will delight in showing you proper respect for your Master.” Then, with derision in his eyes and his voice, he said, “Your safe word is 'broken'.”

I gasped softly at the insinuation, and he took advantage of my momentary surprise. In a flash, he had my wrists behind my back, gripped in one of his large hands. He pulled me against him, and his other hand wrapped around my neck, over the collar. His thumb pressed under my chin insistently, my head tilted back, and I tasted his lips for the first time. That deceptively angelic mouth conquered mine, teeth nipping at my lower lip, tongue diving in to claim. My body reveled in this long-awaited contact, responding to his demand, and I moaned into his mouth at the sharp pleasure. My eyes were wide open, seeking to maintain our mingled stare as long as possible. I watched, and relished, the growing heat in his eyes.

Abruptly, he pulled away. I was slightly unbalanced as he gripped the links close to my collar and pulled down. It was either bend, or... what? I hadn't yet discovered the punishment for my disobedience. Once again testing his limits, I resisted his command of my leash. Wayne's eyes went molten and his other hand gripped my shoulder. I felt the inexorable pressure growing, his fingers curling into my bare flesh and squeezing.

“Kneel, slave. Now.”

The tone, his fiery eyes, and the physical pressure of his hands were an intoxicating combination. I went down onto my knees, still staring into his hypnotic blue pools. I watched as he ranged himself in front of me, his legs planted wide. He kept the leash taut as his other hand came up off my shoulder,. With surprising tenderness, he ran the back of his fingers slowly over my cheek, to my parted lips. His thumb caught on my lower lip and he rubbed it over the swollen flesh. Unable to help myself, I brought my tongue to his thumb and licked. I wanted to take the digit into my mouth and suck and tongue it like I would his cock, if I could. I ached to. His hips were right in front of my face, the candlelight outlining the impressive girth of the member beneath the leather.

“Suck it.”

I moaned and took his thumb into my mouth, delighted with his permission. I leaned into my task, laving the rough pad of his thumb with my agile tongue as I sucked on the offering. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough. My hands moved of their own volition, to his thighs and up, over soft leather. Nearly there, I thought. I wanted to rip his leather off and hold his meat in my eager hands. Too late, I saw the calculation in his eyes. He removed his thumb from my mouth unceremoniously, then my wrists were once again prisoners in his strong grip. I didn't even recognize the whimper that sounded out as my own. I wanted, I needed to touch, to taste.

“Did I say you could touch me?” He spoke quietly, but the words stung like sleet.

I shook my head no and his grip tightened.

What?”

“No, sir.”

He released my wrists, only to capture my face with both his hands and turn it up to him. He held me there as he moved in, his legs pressing against my chest and shoulders. The hard bulge of his erection pressed against my chin. My hands itched to hold him, but I wanted to be good. I don't know when I'd lost the desire to defy, but I had. All that was left was the yawning void of my lust and my Master to fill it. I tried to put my abject obedience into my eyes, imploring him with my gaze to understand my submission. He cocked his head again, as if looking into the depths of my soul.

“You will obey.”

“Yes, sir.” There was no hesitation.

“I may hurt you.”

I shuddered. “Yes, sir.”

“I will please you.”

I smiled, my desire and my lust in the gesture. “Yes, sir.”

I felt his thumbs caressing my temples as he continued to stare, and then... there it was. In his eyes, the lust, the want, what I'd been craving to see. I felt so powerful in my submission. I wanted to please him, so that he would keep looking at me this way, like I was the only thing that was real in the world.

Master moved away from me, just a step. I crawled on my knees to close the distance. We moved this way, closer to the platform and the array of pleasure tools. Once there, Master took a thin coil of flat leather thong from a hook on the wall. He unwound it, then doubled it up and faced me again.

“Undo your halter.”

I kept my eyes upraised as my trembling fingers moved to the clasp at my back and unhooked the chain. The body of the halter rippled and jingled as I dropped the ends to hang loosely at my sides. Bringing my hands to the chain at my neck, I unclasped it, then held the draping metal cloth to my breasts, my wide, obedient eyes waiting for his next request.

“Drop it.”

I let the garment fall to my right, and a feeling of momentary anxiety made me look away. I knew I was pretty. People told me all the time. I'd heard many compliments on my breasts in the past. And yet, at that moment, I felt insecure in my ability to please my Master. Would he like me?

“Look at me.”

I obeyed, a blush heating my face as I waited for his decree. My breasts felt swollen and sensitive, the areolas puckered around the pebbled nipples, waiting for Master's touch. His hand came down and gently cupped one, and I whimpered softly. I pressed into his hand and he squeezed the weight, before his thumb and middle finger pressed in on the hard, little nipple. He pinched and rolled the hard bit of flesh and I moaned out loud, the sensation rocketing straight to my core. His other hand, the one holding the leather thong, came down, and he let the looped leather graze over the skin of my other breast. Goosebumps formed in its wake. The two sensations, one hard and biting, the other soft and gentle, overwhelmed my system. The leather loop cupped my nipple and was pulled off, and the quick tug felt like the light scratch of a fingernail, making me jolt from the pleasure.

“Give me your wrists.”

I raised my arms, the palms of my hands pressed together as if in prayer to this man, my Master. He wasted no time, wrapping the leather thong expertly and repeatedly around my prone wrists. The leather extended about six inches from my hands down my arms, and felt secure, but not chafing. He left a loop at the top, and my mind went wild imagining what it could be for. The simple act of tying my hands had aroused me to near delirium. It pleased him to have me this way, and so it pleased me. He brought my tied hands to the buckle of his belt.

“Undo this. Slowly.”

My fingers wrapped around the leather and metal, pulling the one through the other. Restraint made it challenging, but I managed. I was trying not to get distracted by the sizable bulge just below the belt, but my fingers couldn't help brushing against it as they worked. I felt his eyes on me as I focused all of my attention on the task, making sure to go slowly. When it was done, I looked back up at him and nearly swallowed my tongue. The unbridled lust in his eyes was almost scary to behold. He reached down and took the belt out of my hands, then quickly whipped the thick leather off. His hands returned to his leathers, where a line of buttons ran over each hip bone. Deft fingers made quick work of these, and the front flap of his pants fell open.

My eyes went wide at the sight of his long, engorged cock bobbing out, the tip glistening wetly from the clear, slippery liquid seeping out the end. Saliva pooled in my mouth and I leaned in, not daring to touch yet, but inhaling a mix of leather, man, and cum. I was transfixed, completely overtaken. Fingers combed through my hair, gripped firmly, pulled my head back. Reluctantly, I looked away from the delicacy only inches away, to my Master's eyes. They were so intense, the blue almost electric in the dimness. I implored him with my eyes to let me taste, let me lick and suck, let me pleasure him.

“Please, sir. Let me...”

His fingers tightened momentarily in my hair, and then there was a nearly imperceptible nod. He let my head tilt back down and I felt the muscles of my sex squeeze involuntarily, a shock of pleasure coursing through my body. I squeezed my eyes shut for just a moment, then I returned to admiring the long, thick prize that awaited my attention. I let my lips open slightly, and my tongue came out to taste. I moved in and let the flat of my tongue shape itself to the underside of the bulbous head, sliding mere millimeters back and forth along the puckered cleft where the head met the column.

Master groaned, and I responded in kind. His hand in my hair griped, urging me to take more. I let my tongue slide further along the underside of his cock, my lips held wide to accommodate him as he slid further into my mouth. When he was nearly to my throat I closed my lips around his shaft, forming a tight seal, and I sucked. His hips bucked once and his hand viced in my hair, my possession ripping a guttural moan from him. Master's pleasure was like a narcotic in my veins, making my wet, needy pussy spasm again. I felt empty, hollow, the need to be filled so strong that my hips rocked, seeking that hard length at my lips, but my orgasm had to wait. I threw all of my attention into my Master's pleasure, my tongue and lips working on his thick pole with growing intensity. I loved the way he filled me, and I teased his cock with the promise of my tight throat. I wanted to feel him all the way in my mouth, down my throat, bucking his tool in and out. I got ready to take him in to the hilt, ached to be filled, but Master gripped my hair and pulled me away. I whimpered my need, but his hold was firm, and he withdrew from my mouth.

I felt the resentment, the denial bubbling into defiance in me. I struggled to get his cock back in my mouth, and he trapped my chin in strong fingers, tilting my head up forcefully. Our gazes clashed again, and his smile was ruthless.

“Oh, there's my feisty little slut. Still wanting to run the show, I see.”

Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed my arms and hauled me up, then dragged me to the platform and bent me over it face down. My breasts were plastered to the top of the smooth surface as he held me easily. He pulled my bound arms up over my head, and I tilted my face to watch him run a rope through the loop at my hands, then secure it to the ring at the head of the table. I wiggled my ass, my metal skirt jingling madly, as I tried to get some purchase on the platform, but to no avail. He proceeded to secure me further, tying my booted ankles to the legs of the platform. I struggled, testing all of the ties futilely as he circled me slowly. I lost track of him with my eyes when he moved behind me, but I felt his hands on the outside of my thighs, fingers tracing up to the hem of my skirt. It had pulled up to where my ass cheeks began, the tight links biting into my hip where the clasps were. He fingered the chains and the clasps, then made quick work of them, dragging the undone latches over my ass and pulling the rest of it out from beneath my hips. I flexed my thighs and arched my back, trying to get free of the restraints, but I didn't want to get away. Fear wasn't my motivator. I wanted to wrap my legs around his hips and fuck. I was aroused to painful intensity, my pussy pulsing and aching to be filled, and filled hard.

A loud, stinging slap on my ass cheek made me gasp.

“Be still.”

Whimpering, I felt completely undone. I don't think I'd ever been that turned on, so ready to come, and I hadn't even been touched yet. I felt Master's hands cup the sides of my cheeks, thumbs tracing lightly toward my cleft. I trembled at his touch and my eyes squeezed shut, my heightened senses following his fingers over my skin. Thumbs trailed slowly down my ass, moving closer to my swollen, dripping core, then dancing away teasingly. I cried out in frustration, then groaned when his hands moved to the inside of my thighs. He found the copious amounts of cream that had dripped down and coated every inch of skin from crotch to mid-thigh, and used it to squeeze and rub his way up, until he was nearly where I wanted him most. I cried out when he pulled his hands away, my hips bucking off the platform.

“Please, sir... I need...”

He gave me another slap on the ass.

“Silence, slave. I know what you need.”

He punctuated his last word with a squeeze of my ass.

“I'm going to play with you until I'm satisfied, but you are NOT to come until I say so.”

I shuddered and whimpered as he trailed a finger down between my ass cheeks, over the sensitive knot of muscles at my little brown star, then further, nearly to my hungry slit. I wasn't sure I could obey. I was so damn close. All I needed was for him to slide his fingers into my tight, wet cunt and I was sure I would explode in orgasmic delirium. A third slap to my abused cheek ripped a cry of pain out of me.

“Are we clear, slut?”

“Yes, sir,” I gasped out.

I heard him moving around the other side of the platform and I turned my head, trying to catch a glimpse of what he intended. I was too slow, though. Then I felt fingers in my hair that gripped and pulled. I raised my head to lessen the sudden pain, my mouth open on a cry of surprise, when a ball gag was pushed into my mouth. I felt the buckle being secured, even as I tried to spit the gag out. I cursed ineffectually, and heard my Master chuckle as he moved back to the end of the platform. I closed my eyes and suppressed a moan as I felt his hands on my ass cheeks again, this time pulling them wide. Then, oh God, then there was his tongue, an insistent wet intruder circling my tight, puckered ass hole. I was back to wanton whore in a matter of seconds, my hips trying to buck in his strong hold, my starving pussy quivering.

How was I supposed to not come? His tongue laved its way down, skirting my slit, to the top of my distended little hood. The pleasure was sharp, inescapable, near torture, as he teased my sensitized little pearl, licking to its right and left, never landing any direct stimulation. I'm not sure how long this kept going. I had lost any sense of time, feeling like I existed only for the next caress of his ravenous tongue.

When he withdrew his lingual assault, I was nothing but need. I hadn't come, but it had been a close thing the entire time he'd been working me over. I heard the sounds coming from me as if I was separate from myself, whimpers and moans that sounded more animal than human. The ball gag muffled them, and had the side effect of making me breath hard through my nose. Hyperventilation was a near thing. I shuddered hard when I felt a pair of fingers squeeze my clit, then move through the sticky, wet mess of my sex to dip briefly into my slit. My back arched, hips and ass seeking that which would slake the hunger in my aching pussy. His voice came back to me then, the words uneven and breathless.

“You've been such a good slave. I'm going to give you what you want now. You do want my fat cock in your tight, dripping cunt, don't you?”

I nodded my head frantically, my pelvis rocking back and forth in uncontrollable waves. My eyes rolled back in my head and I moaned loudly when he placed the fat head of his pole at my gushing door. I felt myself quiver in anticipation.

“What was that?”

I was thrashing on the platform as much as my restraints would allow, my tongue pressing against the hard rubber gag, my throat trying desperately to answer in the affirmative. I felt the blunt tip press into my welcoming flesh, heard a long intake of breath from my Master.

“Oh yes, little slave. You've done it now.”

I felt his hands spread my cheeks wide, then to my supreme pleasure, he pressed his hot, hard meat all the way inside me. It was nothing short of divine. I swear I heard angels sing as he filled my hollow, aching place. I think I screamed as I gladly took his thick, invading steel rod. The long denied orgasm that had backed up somewhere in my abdomen screamed up into my distended loins and I felt a tight, delicious spasm grip his perfect tool.

“Oh fuck, baby.”

His voice dripped with his own pleasure, as he pulled out of me and then pressed himself back home. Another spasm squeezed around him and I was biting down on the gag, trying so hard to not come, wanting like nothing else ever before to let the climax rip through my psyche. I was losing. With every increasingly strong thrust, the sexual energy battered at my crumbling defenses. I was at my wit's end, my last straw, when I heard the sweetest words in the whole wide world.

“Come for me. Now, lover!”

I let go and the entire universe imploded. My vision fractured into sizzles and star bursts of twinkling light as my entire body shook from the force of my peak. Sound was muffled, but I could vaguely hear a raw, echoing scream that seemed to go on and on. Was that me? The pounding cock at the center of it all didn't let up as the energy swallowed me whole; in fact it seemed to redouble its efforts to rend me in two. The waves of pure pleasure kept rolling over me for what seemed like hours, days, eternity, until the thrusts at my core slowed, finally stopped, and the deliciously filling length was entirely removed.

I couldn't move. I was limp as a rag doll, used and abused, feeling utterly sated. Hands caressed my rump in gentle, circular motions that sent echoes of pleasure coursing up my spine. I felt a pressure ease at my ankles and dimply realized I was no longer restrained there. Funny. I had no desire to even try to move my legs. My face was laying on its side, and I watched with fuzzy vision as my Master walked around the platform to the head. He undid the knots holding my arms secure, then looked into my heavy-lidded eyes. Desire burned there, hot but banked, and something that looked surprisingly like respect. I have no idea what my eyes were showing him in return. I imagine it was everything.

He walked back around to the back of the platform, and with firm but gentle hands, bent over me and pulled me bodily off the surface. I was held against his hard body, still mostly clothed, his still stiff erection grinding into my ass. I was nonplussed. Surely he had come. Coherent thought left me again when lips and teeth came down at the base of my neck, claiming and marking me as his. I knew then, I would deny this man nothing. I felt well and truly owned.

In a quick move, I was literally swept off my feet and settled back onto the platform face up. I heard and felt the zippers of my boots swishing down, then they were off and I was truly naked, except for the collar at my neck, the masquerade mask at my eyes, and the gag in my mouth. I watched my Master as he moved around the platform, arranging me as he desired, and a shiver of anticipation ran up my spine. When he was done, my legs were spread and secured with what felt like silk rope to the corners of the platform; my hands were tied to the side loops of the platform with the same material, with some play left in the ropes. Master stood between the platform and the wall of pleasure tools, his long, agile fingers trailing over feathers, crops, and spikes. He seemed to sense my question.

“No, pet. We're not done. We're nowhere near done...”

* * *

I opened my eyes to dark walls, dark sheets, and a candle on the night table that was nearly guttered out. The black silk felt like heaven on my skin as I stretched languorously. A variety of aches and pains sung out over my body, reminding me vividly of the night's adventure. I stilled, listening for the quiet breathing of my Master. When all I heard was the sizzle of the candle, I sat up in the wide lake of a bed, holding the top sheet modestly over my breasts, and looked around the room. The first thing I noticed was the wall of tools covered with a red velvet drape, and I let out a quiet sigh. My eyes wandered the room further, until they landed on the blood red rose that lay on my pillow's twin. A black sheet of card stock lay with it, flowing, glittery silver writing prominent against the dark background.

Lover,

I trust you will feel quite sated, if a bit sore this morning. I have taken the liberty of requesting breakfast for you. All you need do is press *40 on the telephone and it will be delivered. I also had your things brought from your hotel room. You will sleep here for the remainder of the weekend.

In the wardrobe you will find some garments of my choice. You are free to wander the convention during the day, but you will return to this suite at six o'clock in the evening. You will avail yourself of the fully stocked bath. I want you clean and smooth. This evening you will wear the black mesh bodysuit, the black vinyl corset, the patent leather stiletto heels, and that lovely mask you were wearing last night. I will come to you at precisely eight o'clock. You will stand by the platform, eyes down, and wait. I will bring you a new collar.

I had a lovely time last night, and I expect no less this evening. Until then.

--Your Master

I felt my body tighten in anticipation as I read the letter, my nipples hardening to painful points as I imagined what he might have in store. I wondered fleetingly if I had it in me to endure another night like the last. Then I smiled, reached over to the phone and dialed up breakfast.

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Copyright © 2016 Evie Star. All Rights Reserved.
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