My Kingdom for a Corner (9 page)

Something told Francesca that if she received spankings like this one, she would feel the same way. Her clit tingled right now, and each blow made it tighten more, as if she might do just as Sally had told her.

As much as her clit was sending out pleasure signals, her ass was sending out just the opposite. She was sure there would be welts there, and the pain would last for a while.

When Mr. Oliver finally reached fifty, she sighed with relief. But realization sank in as he asked the crowd if she’d had enough. The answer was a deafening no. One at a time he grasped each cheek and wiggled it in his hand as the crowd screamed numbers at him, ranging from fifty to one hundred.

Without giving an answer, he started to spank again, ten…twenty…thirty. Francesca’s body trembled, and somewhere around forty she realized that Francesca was gone—missy had taken her place.

The sub wiggled her ass with each strike, and each one sent her soaring toward that same hard orgasm she’d experienced when Mr. Oliver had fucked her while she’d been bound to the floor.

She heard the numbers as the sub counted, but they didn’t quite compute. She was no longer in the room, but somewhere up in the clouds, rolling around, her body as light as air, her spirit soaring like it never had before.

When Mr. Oliver put his thumb into her pussy, and rubbed his index finger against her clit and said, “Come, slut,” she did, dropping the sign from her mouth as she screamed out his name, as she begged for more.

“Did I tell you that you could scream?” he said as he leaned over her. The crowd was clapping, the applause loud and surprisingly satisfying to her.

“No, Sir,” she whispered back.

His deep chuckle made her shiver. “We’ll deal with that later. I’m like an elephant when it comes to things like that. I never forget when I’m disobeyed. In the meantime, not another word.”

She felt a deep sense of loss when he lifted off her body. He rubbed her fiery bottom, his touch soothing. She could hear him talking to other Doms, most of who asked her identity. He always answered with, “A good friend.”

Definitely, she thought as the subs started to unbind her arms and legs. One that wanted to replay this scene over and over and over again.

Chapter Six

“I don’t recall giving you permission to get out of bed.” Oliver could tell from the way she didn’t move that she’d been aware of his presence long before he’d spoken. He’d watched her for about five minutes before saying anything. She sat in front of the window, staring out at the still-dark night.

“You said I could get up to go to the bathroom.”

“Please tell me you’re not befouling my rug.”

Her laughter made him smile.

“No, Mr. Oliver, I’m doing nothing of the sort. I’m being a bad sub, I suppose. I couldn’t sleep, and I needed some time to think.”

He crossed the room and sat down in a recliner opposite from where she sat. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“That I want to come again.”

“Liar.” He stretched out his legs. “Definitely a habit I’m going to have to break. Be honest with me, missy, because without honesty there is nothing, no trust, no bond, no…us.”

For a few, long moments he thought she wouldn’t answer, and that was a true shame to him. He and missy had a future together. Even if it wasn’t set in stone now, this weekend was a firm foundation. She’d been very quiet after the scene downstairs, but she’d been absolutely beautiful during it, following his directions like a true submissive, and coming so hard he wondered if she would squeeze his thumb off when she’d exploded.

She’d sucked him off once they were upstairs, even though he’d wanted nothing more than to turn her over and pound her until they both came. Having her on her knees, still wearing the mask, with his dick in her mouth, had been incredibly satisfying. Seeing her here, obviously pondering her feelings without letting him in on what she was thinking, was disheartening.

“Answer me, please.”

“I shouldn’t have liked it,” she finally said. “Subs like to be spanked. Dommes don’t.”

“Nonsense. I know a Domme who makes her sub whip her ass regularly. She makes him do it downstairs, because she says it embarrasses him to punish his Mistress.”

“Exactly,” she said as she turned toward him. “She did it because she wanted to.”

Oliver cleared his throat as he carefully pondered his next words. “Tell me, Francesca, what you say to your subs. What happens to them is their choice, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You could have said no at any time, yet you didn’t. You carried the sign, even though it disturbed you. You allowed the other Doms and their subs to play with your nipples, and when the time came, you took your spanking like the good little sub you are.”

“But I’m not a sub,” she yelled. “I’m a Domme.”

“You still think you have to be one or the other. There are some who manage to be both. If you’d allow it, you could do both. I saw it in you the first time I fucked you, all tied up, unable to move. You savored every thrust, and each one was submission.”

“Each one was sex,” she countered. “I came so hard because it had been so long since I’d had a cock in me.”

“You came so hard because you gave up control, because you allowed yourself to relax and give me control. You were relaxed; you didn’t have to worry about pleasing someone else. You let yourself be pleasured.”

Her eyes narrowed, and he waited for her to scream at him, but she didn’t. “You know it’s true, Francesca. There’s no reason why you can’t be yourself in the office, Mistress C with your subs, and missy with me.”

She snorted out a very unladylike laugh. “Shrinks would have a heyday with that, wouldn’t they?”

“No,” he shrugged, “I think they would be impressed that you allowed all of yourself to be free.”

“Will you fuck me, please?”

“Not right now.” He stood. “But I will take you back downstairs and give you another demonstration of your submissiveness.”

“Isn’t the club closed?”

“I know the owner.” Francesca’s giggle made him smile. It also made him hard. He helped her to stand, then he went to the table. The mask lay there, waiting to be used again.

“Do I need that?”

“There will be subs downstairs, cleaning equipment and setting things to right for tomorrow night. If you don’t care that they see you, then we’ll go without.”

He watched her consider her choices. “They’re very discreet, you know. If one of them lets out your secret, they will be fired, and the community will know why.”

“By then it will be too late,” she said. “The hard-hitting Mistress C, ball-breaking Domme and owner of
Salacious
, will be unmasked as a sub.”

“It’s your choice,” he said, a little disappointed when she walked toward the mask. One day, hopefully soon, she would admit to both sides of herself, and there would be no use for the mask.

Mr. Oliver’s place was still busy, but not with playtime. The subs were indeed cleaning, and they were laughing and joking. Francesca felt a little jealous at the easy way they joked with each other, pushing and calling names…that is until they saw their boss. Then they’d all taken the most usual of submissive positions, standing with their heads bowed, legs spread and hands clasped behind their backs.

“At ease,” he’d said as they neared the place where she’d been spanked so beautifully. “Playtoy, will you take missy to the doctor’s table and bind her, please. Keep it warm.”

“Yes, Mr. Oliver,” the tall sub replied. She nodded at Francesca, who pondered Mr. Oliver’s last command as she fell into step behind the sub. Francesca knew this sub. In fact, Francesca had watched her brother top the sub quite a few times before he and Saffron had become an item.

It was Francis who had given her the name playtoy, one that stuck with her no matter which Dom/Domme she submitted to. He’d told Francesca he’d named her because of her need to submit to different people. “She likes to be a toy,” he’d said. “Pin her down and she’s a very unhappy sub.”

Playtoy led Francesca to a room on the second floor. Once inside, she thought about turning and running. There was an examination table in the center of the room, complete with stirrups to bind and spread a sub’s legs. At the sides there were extensions to bind her arms. The surface looked very cold, and she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to feel the cold steel against her back.

She reminded herself she’d signed a contract, that she was, for all intents and purposes, Mr. Oliver’s property for the weekend. Besides, if she refused it would make him look bad in front of his employees. She watched playtoy go to the wall and turn a knob.

“The surface can be heated,” she said. “Different temperatures can be used during scenes, to torture subs. Please lie down so that I may complete Mr. Oliver’s command.”

The table was cold when Francesca put her butt on it, but she could feel heat building under her. She lay down, following playtoy’s instructions to put her feet in the stirrups. The steel under her warmed beautifully while the sub bound her legs and arms, spreading the extensions so that her legs were spread wide.

“Excellent.” Mr. Oliver’s voice shocked her. She hadn’t heard him come inside. “Now, blindfold her.” Francesca thought about balking, but she knew that, with the mask, any blindfold would be partially ineffective, as it couldn’t lay flat against her skin.

When playtoy blocked her sight, however, she realized she been thinking too literally. She’d thought a blindfold had to be placed right over her eyes, that the mask would keep it from being effective. She was wrong. The sub smiled down on her as she placed a long, dark strip of cloth over her eyes. Francesca couldn’t see where she secured the ends, but somehow the sub did, and when she pulled the edge down almost to Francesca’s nose, darkness reigned.

The edge of fear crept into her mind, moving deeper and deeper as she struggled against her bindings. She didn’t like not being able to see, and she said as much.

In response, Mr. Oliver’s blunt, “Gag her,” made her protest even more.

“No! Untie me, untie…” she didn’t get out the last word as playtoy placed a ball gag in her mouth. It took her a few moments to slip the elastic behind Francesca’s head, but the sub managed it. Francesca continued to squirm, screaming against the gag.

Was he standing there, watching her? No one was touching her, and the world seemed to spin at the loss of her senses. She wanted to scream; she wanted to see if anyone was there. Had playtoy left the room? Had Mr. Oliver left, too? Was she here by herself, and if she was, how long would he leave her alone to contemplate her situation?

Or was that his purpose, to keep her in place, with no sight to distract her and no way to voice her opinion? That would give her time to do not much more than think. She’d been doing that upstairs, and doing a damn fine job of it, thank you very much. She hadn’t come to any conclusions, except for the fact that, as a Domme, she sure enjoyed the hell out of submitting.

Carrying the sign had been embarrassing, but the spanking was exhilarating. Maybe she could talk him into a “friends with benefits” type of relationship. Every once in a while she’d call him and say, “Come spank me and fuck me.” That would keep the both of them happy, wouldn’t it? It would sure keep her happy.

It was probably a good thing she was gagged, because if she weren’t, she would be making that suggestion right now. The problem was she wasn’t sure of his reaction. After he realized she wasn’t a true sub, that this weekend would be a success only in the sexual area, maybe then he’d accept her idea. Yeah, that was the ticket. She’d tell him on Sunday what she thought they should do.

After what seemed a lifetime, she struggled against her bonds. In response, someone started to tickle her with what felt like a feather, running it over her breasts, down her stomach to her pussy and back up. They twirled it on circles on her skin before moving it up and down in lines, the touch soft and teasing.

Oh yes, she could get used to this. She loved it almost as much as she loved the spanking earlier. The unknown object continued to tease her, and then suddenly there were two of them, and then three, and finally, Mr. Oliver’s hot breath tickled her shoulder.

“Do you know what a kingdom is, missy? Of course, you can’t answer, so I’ll give one for you. It’s a place where someone reigns. Sometimes it’s one realm, sometimes two, sometimes three or four joined together where one king, or queen, has dominion.”

What the fuck was he talking about? The gag prevented her from saying, “Screw the lesson, just fuck me!”

Someone rubbed what she’d decided was a feather over her pussy. She undulated her hips in an effort to increase the friction.

“Kingdoms are not only land, but they are people. You have dominion over yourself, in other words, your kingdom, but it has several realms in it, things that make you…you.”

Francesca groaned against the gag as someone, she figured playtoy, started to work a thick dildo into her pussy.

So good, she screamed in her mind, harder, deeper, fuck me with it!

“You have the businesswoman, Francesca, and you have the Domme, Mistress C, but you also have missy, a submissive side where you need to surrender control, to allow yourself to just…be.”