Marketplace (37 page)

“Get it wet,” he growled.
“As wet as you can, because it’ll be easier on you.”

With a sob, Robert opened
his mouth and took in as much of the silicone plug as he could. His
jaw stretched and he slobbered over it, watching as Alex took a
swing with the whip. It whistled. It wasn’t very thick, and it
seemed to be made of some kind of harsh cord. When Chris took the
plug away from his mouth, he tried to speak, to beg, but no sounds
came out. And when Chris vanished behind him and went to work, what
came out of his mouth was not articulate.

“Ahh! Oh, oh,
pl-pl-eeese...!” He arched his back, taking the weight of his body
on his arms as Chris kicked his legs further apart and pushed the
fat plug into him.

“Better,” Alexandra
commented to Grendel. “At least his voice is normal.”

“Even if his asshole is
tight. I think I might want a piece of that.”

“Oh, you’ll get it. But
first, this situation.” Alex stepped into a good position to flog
Claudia and cocked her arm back.

Robert panted and moaned,
and struggled to bring his legs under him. When Chris’s hands left
him, all that was left was a huge throbbing pain in his rear, and
the fear/knowledge of what was coming next. Tears were on his face;
he had no idea when they came. Again, he tried to speak, but now
there was no moisture in his mouth, and his tongue felt thick. He
tasted, dimly, as if through anesthesia, blood in his mouth. He had
bitten his tongue when that awful penetration happened.

Claudia screamed! Alexandra
was just as good with the lighter, faster, meaner whip as she was
with the luxurious one Robert had felt not so long ago. And each
lash that fell on Claudia’s body left long, red lines, like heavy
scratches.

Poor Claudia had no idea
what do to. She had never felt anything like it in her entire life!
She gave an attempt to try and take it quietly, but then started to
scream at each burning stripe.

Robert sobbed, heavily,
hanging his head between his up-stretched arms. An internal litany
of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” played in his head, and his lips mumbled
the words, but he barely knew that he wasn’t shouting. Claudia’s
screams were echoing through his brain, stabbing into him like gut
punches. He closed his eyes, and then Chris was there again,
pulling his head up and back by handful of hair, making him watch,
making him see what was in front of him. A beautiful young women,
writhing in pain, crying out her anguish, and it was all his fault,
all his fault, all my fault, all my fault...!

“Stop it!” he yelled, his
voice as hoarse as it would have been had he been shouting instead
of her, “Stop it, please, please, beat me, it’s my fault; she
didn’t do anything!“

Alexandra paused, but then
let another stripe land, sharp and biting. Claudia wailed and tears
flowed down her cheeks.

“Please, ma’am,” Robert
pleaded. “Please, it’s my fault, I’ll take the punishment, any
punishment you want, please don’t... please...” He sobbed again,
his voice low and breaking.

And Alex tossed the whip to
Grendel, who had already rolled up one sleeve. “Get out of there,
boy,” he said, gesturing to Chris. And as Chris got out of the way,
Grendel stepped into position and laid a line of fire across
Robert’s shoulders.

If this was what Claudia
had been taking, Robert felt a renewed surge of guilt. He gasped in
agony, barely able to take another breath before the second razor
sharp slash landed, and then the third and then the
fourth!

“Good,” Grendel murmured,
his mouth suddenly right next to Robert’s ear. “Very good! Take it
like this until I’m finished!” And then he stepped back, before
Robert could even begin to protest that his silence was because he
couldn’t gather the energy to scream like a banshee. As Grendel
continued, Robert groaned and gasped his way through the twelve
unspeakably painful slashes, finally slumping forward in his cuffs,
dizzy and more than a little nauseated. Dimly, he heard Grendel
ordering Chris to go do something, heard the whimpers of Claudia as
they let her down, where she just fell into a little ball near
under her side of the frame.

And then Grendel and Alex
left. He just blinked and they were gone. He winced as sweat ran
into his eyes, and shook his head to get the droplets away. It took
concentration just to breathe. In, out, pull yourself together man,
stand up! Shifting and wincing as he did, he gasped when the real
pain of the cuts on his back reached him. For they were cuts—he
knew, somehow, that all of the trickles on his back did not come
from sweat. He opened his eyes and looked at Claudia, and mouthed
yet again, “I’m sorry.” It came out as a croak.

Claudia sighed and looked
up. Although there were several deep red lines on her back, she was
not damaged by her beating. She gazed at him and wiped her eyes,
and looked around. They were alone in the room. Slowly, she pushed
herself up, first on her knees, and then up on her feet. Steadying
herself, she walked over to him, stood on tip-toes, and kissed him
gently on the lips.
S
he moved down to kiss his throat as she had been taught; then
his nipples before she trailed her mouth down his belly.

Suddenly, Robert was again
aware of the plug filling his tight asshole as he twitched and his
insides constricted with pleasure when she touched him. He moaned,
low and long, as her hands wrapped around his hips, holding onto
him softly, and then her mouth descended to touch his cock, driven
to softness by the beating and now miraculously awakened by her
breath. He sighed, the combination of pain and discomfort and the
restriction of bondage mixing with the incredible pleasure of her
ministrations. When she carefully took the fat head into her mouth,
letting her breath wash over it, he cried out and arched his back,
not caring that it pulled at the lines of fire that decorated
it.

And then, her mouth was
gone. He heard her shriek, and opened his eyes.

Chris had pulled her away.
He smiled, and took her by the scruff of the neck. “Get back to
work, girl,” he said genially, and pushed her toward the
door.

* * * *

Much later, Robert found
himself spread-eagled on one of the low tables, a folded towel
under his back. He had no idea why he was back in the
playroom.

The rest of the afternoon
and early evening went back to the usual routine for the slaves.
Robert was not excused from dinner or from finishing his tasks, so
when Chris finally let him down, he staggered off to get back to
work as soon as he could. The others were all impressed by the
marks on his back. When he was told to freshen up after evening
duties, he looked at himself in the mirror and gasped.

And then he reported back
to Chris, who delivered him here, secured him, blindfolded him, and
left, without a word. “Am I going to sleep here tonight?” he asked
himself. “Is this more punishment?”

He heard the door, but the
thick carpeting muffled all other sounds except for some vague
clinking sounds that came from far away. He was only aware of
someone next to him when they touched his hand. He jumped, as far
as he could in bondage, and gasped.

“Good evening, Robert,”
Alexandra said.

“G-good evening, ma’am,” he
managed to reply. Her cool fingers traced the outline of his arm,
and she walked around him, checking his bondage.

“I’m going to do something
very different with you tonight,” she said, her voice now coming
from the direction of his feet. “There will be no protests from
you, and you will strive to please me in all ways. Those are your
only instructions.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

She began by putting wide,
flat clamps on his nipples, compressing them into little erections
on his chest. A line of clips led from each one, trailing down his
chest and across his stomach. He drew in harsh breaths whenever she
added a new one, and lost count at about thirty. They began to
appear on his arms and legs, and one line of them was planted just
above his hairline, digging into the flesh above his groin. The
last set of them was buried around his cock and balls, with five of
them gathering up the loose flesh on the underside of his
cock.

The pinching sensation was
unfamiliar but not frightening. Although he reacted to each
placement, most of them were quite bearable, until the line of five
on his cock. He shook when she put them in place.

“You could fit eight or
nine,” was her only comment.

Robert could only nod and
say, “Yes, ma’am,” and then shut up.

She began to touch the
pins, one at a time, alternating from one side of his body to
another, first just tapping them, and then actually bending or
twisting them. He moaned as she played with him, his fingers
stretching out and then clenching into fists again, sighing when
she left troublesome pins alone, grinding his teeth when she
pinched them to make them tighter. Her tormenting was methodical in
pace, but random in target site, and he squirmed a little. He
gasped and jumped when she started to take them off.

“That’s my big fella,” Alex
said, giving one pin on his belly a hard twist as she pulled it
off. “I like the way you’re taking this. Do you like the way it
feels?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Good.” She continued to
pluck them off. “Do you know how many you took, Robert?”

“No, ma’am. Ah!” She had
pulled off two at the same time.

“Tsk, tsk. That’s not very
attentive of you. I put fifty-five pins on you, and because you
didn’t count them, I’m going to hit you fifty-five times when
they’re off.” Two more, on his thigh, came off and he
moaned.

It seemed that “last on,
last off” was the rule of the day, and the final five came off
slowly, making blood rush into his cock at dizzying speeds. He
thanked her, profusely, the same words over and over, stopping only
when something light smacked against his tingling left
nipple.

“Fifty-five, Robert, keep
count. By counting backwards.” She smacked him with the short,
light whip one more time, and he cried out more in shock then in
pain.

In a low voice, he said,
“Fifty-four, ma’am.”

The whip had to be short,
she seemed to be standing very close to him. It was tressed in
leather that smacked with an almost elastic quality against his
body. Even as he counted and she worked it over his torso and the
fronts of his thighs, he felt his cock beginning to stand up again,
and he gasped when she took casual swipes at it.

“And how many are left?”
she asked him from time to time.

“Thirty-one, ma’am,” he
answered, and then “Thirty,” when she landed one on his belly, and
then later, “Twenty, ma’am!”, and so on.

The whip left no marks on
his body, but the ritual and the feeling of being beaten without
the true sense of getting hurt, had worked magic on the bound man.
His back was just a memory, lines of minor aching he dismissed at
will. The bonds on his wrists and ankles were security for him, his
mistress would not let him go, he was all hers. And as he finished
the count, each magical number-word was a count down to something,
if only his excellent completion of it by her command. The final
blow, as he tremblingly voiced, “One, ma’am!” was gently draped
across his face, the tresses trailing by his mouth so he could
breath in the rich, smoky scent of them and kiss them as they moved
across his cheeks.

In the short silence that
followed, he tried to find a better way of saying, “Thank
you.”

Then, he sensed movement
above him, an adjusting of things around him. A pillow was placed
under his head, tilting his neck a little more than he felt would
be comfortable, but he kept silent. His silence was met with a
rustling sound, and then a slight creak as Alex joined him on the
table. She made herself comfortable, and his first realization of
what she was doing hit him like the rush of good
cocaine.

She was kneeling above him,
right above his face. Her pubic hair tickled his chin as she made
herself more comfortable, and then rose up to offer her pussy to
his lips.

“Do what will please me,”
she said softly. “Get in there and work at it. Show me how much you
want to make me happy.”

A long, body-length shiver
of anticipation ran through Robert’s body, and he licked his lips.
Gently, he kissed her, allowing his mouth to learn exactly where
she was, how close, how far, and how open. To his searching mouth,
she revealed that she too, had enjoyed the session with the pins,
and he thanked her with warm, loving kisses at her center of
pleasure, daring to lick carefully at the edges. Encouraged by her
shifting agreeably, he began to explore her with his tongue and
lips together, wetting her down and tasting of her wetness. He
could barely hear her sigh above him, but what he heard was
encouragement enough. He moved his head even closer, cursing his
bonds for the first time, and then blessing them.

He would have never had the
courage to do this without them.

Carefully, he took her
pussy lips and bathed them in his tongue, and then dipped deeper
into her to taste her again. Back and forth he went, until her
juices and his melded and mixed all over her pussy and all over his
mouth and chin. He extended his tongue further out to touch the
hooded spot near the top of her cleft, and when she dipped lower,
he concentrated there for a long time, washing it over with
rhythmic strokes that made her fairly purr.