Undone Dom (9 page)

“Place them on the ottoman. Sit on the end with your heels against the legs, spread your knees, raise your hands.”

Lulu obeyed, taking up the position with only slight hesitation and a submissive’s grace. She was beautiful. The ottoman was only a few feet from the comfortable chair where he’d been waiting, checking stocks on his phone as he pointedly ignored Cheryl.

He could see the wetness on her pussy. Now he was doubting his ability to keep his hands off her. She was beautiful, ready and sexy.

“Slave Cheryl.”

He felt Cheryl’s surprise, saw Lulu’s.

“Yes, Master Alton?”

“Rise, stand at open presentation.”

Cheryl rolled to her feet, stood with her arms raised at shoulder level, legs spread. Alton rose also. Reaching between the other woman’s legs, he removed one of the clamps on her labia. It dangled from the connecting chain. Taking her pussy lip in his fingers, he massaged it to make sure the circulation was good. Because she was wearing the clamps for long periods of time, she was instructed to wear them loose when not being used. One by one he removed the clamps, then undid the chain, dropping them to the floor between her feet.

Cheryl’s breath sped up, her arms trembling. He’d conditioned her to feel her submission more keenly when she wore the chains. With them off she would either find the defiance that had brought her here or feel unsure of herself. He put a hand on her back. Cheryl leaned into it. There was no defiance in her.

“Kneel, head on the floor.”

Cheryl dropped down on her knees, bending down to press her forehead and palms to the floor.

Alton stepped around her, looking over his equipment. He knew what he wanted to do with Cheryl, all he needed was to set it up. Lulu shifted, watching him before looking at Cheryl and back.

He wouldn’t just make Lulu watch…he’d make her help.

First he sorted through her undergarments, pulling out her panties. Raising them to his nose, he sniffed. They smelled of her musk. She’d been aroused before she walked in the door. Good.

She blushed and looked down at his action.

“Lulu, go to the kitchen. In the second drawer down on the right wall you’ll find anal plugs. Bring me one, and one of the small packets of lube in the drawer.”

He watched her rise and walk away before he hauled the gymnastics horse into position in the middle of the floor. The ceiling here was reinforced and there were several heavy-duty bolts on rotating brackets mounted to it.

Lulu was back, a plug in one hand, packet in the other.

The plug she’d selected was shorter and much thicker than the one he’d used on her yesterday.

He took it from her. “That has a larger diameter than the one I used on you yesterday. It will stretch you wider.”

She bit the side of her lower lip, eyes on the ground. “Should I get a different one, Master?”

“Did you know this one was thicker?”

“I know it looked…different.”

“Why did you select it?”

“I wanted to know…what it would feel like when you used it on me.”

Not “what it would feel like” but “what it would feel like when
you
used it on me”.

Something in Alton’s chest loosened. Something he hadn’t known shouldn’t be tight.

“Good girl.”

He took the lube from her. “Kneel on the ottoman, put your chest and cheek against it with your ass high in the air so I can use it.”

“Yes, Master.”

This time she didn’t clench when he separated the cheeks of her ass. He used his teeth to open the single-use packet of lube. She gasped in that sweet, vulnerable way women had when the cool gel touched her anus.

“I’m going to work the lube into your ass with my finger.”

Her sweet rosette opened for him as he pressed, her body yielding to his invasion. When the lube was worked in, he removed his finger and placed the blunt tip of the plug there. It was more like the head of a cock, and not as easy to take, without the slim taper of yesterday’s.

“You must relax and accept the plug. It will stretch you.”

Her faint trembling was the only reply.

Holding her steady with one hand, he pressed hard on the round base of the plug. She gasped as the tip entered, her body yielding to his invasion. As it stretched her, her fingers clawed the ottoman, her breathing sharp and hard between her teeth.

“M-Master. It’s too big.”

“It is not. You will take it. For me.”

He knew that once it was at the widest part it would pop into her, but he did not want to force it and shock her with the sharp pain of that.

“It hurts.”

“And do you enjoy the pain?”

“I don’t know.”

Alton transferred his hand from her hip to pussy. She was wet, but not as wet as he’d expected. He slid two fingers along her clit, rocking his hand so that he was massaging the bud in a steady caress.

She relaxed, her body yielding.

The plug popped into her. Lulu gasped, her back arching, feet wiggling. Alton tugged on the base, feeling the tight hold her body had on the toy.

“Stand.”

When she got to her feet, he saw tears swimming in her eyes.

Alton’s chest clenched. She was going to
cry
.

This was okay, slaves cried all the time. Women cried when they were happy, sad and angry. He’d seen slaves sob through orgasm, seen them weep from the combined pleasure and pain of a caning.

Yet the tears in Lulu’s eyes completely undid him.

He hugged her, pressing his cheek to her hair, which was caught up in a series of perfect loops and buns.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“I-I’m okay. It hurts a little.” Her words brushed his chest. “I’m okay now, Master.”

That centered him. He gave himself a quick mental smackdown.
What is wrong with me?

He eased Lulu away from him but couldn’t stop himself from stroking her naked back, the curve of her waist.

Taking her panties from his pocket, he dropped to one knee and shook them out. “Step into these.”

She braced her hand on his shoulder and slid her feet through the holes. Alton drew the pale-green fabric with black lace up her legs. He patted her ass when it was in place. The wide round base of the plug was keeping the cheeks of her ass apart. He tapped it.

Lulu moaned, her pelvis thrusting forward, grinding her hips against his shoulder.

“Hand me the rest of your undergarments.”

He had to take her hips and move her back before her eyes focused and his words registered. Her movements were jerky as she plucked the crumpled items off the ottoman and held them up. He could tell when she felt the pressure of the plug most acutely, because she’d pause and catch her breath in a little hiccup.

She held out the fabric but he shook his head. “I don’t know what all that is. Hand them to me.”

She smiled at him, then held out the pieces one by one. “Garter belt. Stockings. Half corset.”

He held up the thing she’d called a half corset. It looked like a strapless bra but with too much fabric on the bottom.

“You wore this today?”

“I had on a strapless dress, and came right from work.” A line formed on her forehead. “I’m sorry they don’t match.”

Alton looked at the things in his hands. What didn’t match? The bra-thing was black, as was the garter belt. The stockings were flesh-colored with a black line on them.

He raised one brow.

“There’s a bra that matches this, but I couldn’t wear it with the dress.”

He handed everything back. “Put it on.”

He caught the quick flash of disappointment on her face and had to hide his own smile. It was an unusual move for him, but he wasn’t ready to share her with another Master, even if it was only her nakedness. Because she was so new, it wasn’t unusual that she be semi-dressed. At least that’s what he was planning on saying if anyone confronted him about allowing a slave to cover herself in his presence—something he’d never done before.

He watched as she wiggled into the garter belt, then placed the bra-thing over her breasts, hiding her pert, pink nipples. Finally she pulled on the stockings, connecting them to the dangling pieces hanging off the garter belt. When she was done she was a vision in black lace, with a shot of creamy green drawing attention to her pussy. With her hair up in the pretty complicated swirls she seemed to favor she looked more dressed in just her underwear than most women did with all their clothes on.

He’d make her strip, as soon as he was done with Cheryl.

“Slave Cheryl, collect the following items and bring them to me. One pair of leather buckle cuffs, two ball gags, three lengths of black nylon rope. Deposit them on the ottoman.”

Cheryl pushed herself onto all fours and crawled to the kitchen.

“And you,” Alton stroked Lulu’s cheek with the back of one finger, “go stand against the wall, as you did yesterday.”

Eyes big, Lulu obeyed, positioning herself on the expanse of bare wall where the chains dangled.

It was no accident that Lulu now directly faced the gymnastics horse. He’d deliberately oriented the room so that he could use two slaves at a time—one bound to the wall, the other hanging from the middle of the room.

Cheryl deposited the first set of items and he gave her a second list, asking her to bring them back on the tray. While she opened and closed cabinet doors in the kitchen, Alton slipped into the bedroom and took one of the wireless webcams and tripods from its position.

His phone was still in his back jean pocket from earlier, so he pulled it out and texted Cheryl’s Master, telling him to go to the secure video sharing site Alton had set up for Cheryl. Alton positioned the tripod and camera out of his way, facing the gymnastics horse. Lulu wasn’t visible, but Alton knew he’d probably need to move the camera and at some point she might end up in frame.

He turned on the camera, popping out the screen and flipping it so he’d be able to see it from the front.

“Slave Cheryl, take the formal presentation position, upright, in front of the horse.” He stepped aside, then made sure that the camera had a good view of Cheryl standing with legs spread, arms behind her head as she awaited her next order. He suspected Cheryl’s Master would be online at any moment. Checking over the tray of supplies Cheryl had prepared, he selected the leather cuffs and a ball gag.

“Hold out your wrists,” he said softly to Lulu. The camera had a good mic that would pick up what he said to Lulu also.

Wordlessly she held out her hands. He buckled the cuffs in place. Testing her, he didn’t give an order, merely waited. She raised her hands over her head, returning to the position he’d taught her yesterday.

“Good girl.”

He attached her restraints to the chains, this time lifting her hands two links higher, restricting her movements more than yesterday.

“Open your mouth.”

She opened her mouth and he pressed the red rubber ball between her teeth. She jerked back so hard he heard her head hit the wall.

“Careful,” he admonished as she winced. Lulu was trying to turn her mouth away from the gag, force it out, but he kept the pressure up.

“You will wear this. It’s a ball gag. It keeps you from speaking but does not insert into your mouth, thereby restricting air flow or muscle control in the jaw.”

Her eyes asked
why
?

“You will watch as Slave Cheryl is used. You must not distract her. It will take all of her concentration to focus on pleasing me, and thereby her Master.”

Their gazes met. Held. She relaxed her jaw. Rather than push the gag farther in, he actually pulled it out a little so she had one third of it between her teeth, which kept her jaw in a comfortable position.

With Lulu securely bound and gagged, he turned to the other slave in the room.

His pocket buzzed and Alton checked it to see a message from Cheryl’s Master, letting him know the link was working. It was time to prove his training, to once again show the BDSM community that he could handle a slave like no one else.

And yet, as he picked up a coil of rope, the only person he wanted to impress, the only person in that room who really mattered, was the gagged redhead on the wall.

He was in serious trouble.

Chapter Nine

“Slave Cheryl, sit on the horse, keep your legs spread.”

Alton took the phone out of his pocket, dropping it onto the ottoman, his eyes on Cheryl as she balanced on the narrow horse. Her fingertips were white as she braced herself.

He thumbed the rope, estimating the length he held. He set it down and selected a smaller coil.

“Hold out your wrists.” Alton wrapped rope from wrist to elbow and tied it off. He brought over the straight chair before positioning her forearms together and using a second piece of rope to bind them. With her arms together in a sleeve to her elbow, he braided the rest of the rope into a single lead, which dangled from her elbows.

Taking the braid, Alton stepped onto the chair, looping the rope through one of the bolts in the ceiling. He tied it in a quick-release knot.

Cheryl’s upper arms were alongside her ears, her elbow nearly touching just above her head, while her hands were folded back behind her head. She rocked slightly as she was forced to balance.

Cheryl had closed her eyes, her breathing deep. It was the sign of an experienced sub that she breathed into the bondage, responding instantly to his touch and holding her positions as needed.

He turned his attention to her legs. With her body weight resting on her ass on the bench, the rope to the ceiling kept her from falling. He bent each leg, wrapping them in rope multiple times, first around the top of her calf, then her lower thigh, binding her legs in the bent position. When both legs were bound, he brought the rope ends around her back, tying them together. This left her legs bent and spread, folded up at her sides. With her ass resting on the horse, suspended by her elbows, Cheryl’s pussy, breasts and part of her ass were exposed and available for him to use.

“Good, slave, you take bondage well.”

Alton pulled a cane from the wall. He whipped it through the air, the whistle drawing the first visible reaction from Cheryl. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lulu jump. Her chains rattled.

He used the flat tip of the cane to trace bare skin on Cheryl’s back. “What have you learned while you were here?”

“That I serve, in whatever way my Master wants me to.”

“What form may that service take?”

“Anything my Master wants.”

“Be specific.” Alton flicked the cane against her ass, where it pooled on the horse.

“I serve my Master sexually. My pleasure is his to control. My pain is his to command and enjoy.” As she spoke, Alton used small flicks of the cane to raise short, red welts along her ass and thighs. “Sometimes I serve through tasks. If a task is given, no matter how large or small, I will do it willingly, because I am my Master’s slave.”

“And who does this belong to?” Alton traced the bare lips of her pussy with the tip of the cane.

“My Master.”

“And your breasts?”

“My—” Cheryl’s words snapped off as Alton brought the cane down in a vicious blow on her breasts, near her nipple. A long, red line appeared. The silence after the sound of wood meeting flesh was deafening. Cheryl’s body rocked slightly, her breathing heavy.

Alton stepped closer to her, tracing every line of her body with his eyes. He could tell by looking that she was ready to go deeper, that he could take the scene to the next level.

Standing at Cheryl’s side, he raised the cane. He brought it down across her closest thigh, raising a deep red welt. Cheryl breathed hard, straining against the ropes. He caned her in earnest, laying welts up and down the back of each thigh and two on each breast.

Alton paused behind Cheryl, the cane tapping against the floor as he looked at Lulu. Tears shone on her cheeks, catching the light as she shook her head. She was scared. Alton fought the urge to go to her, to take her in his arms and reassure her, comfort her. He would not do it. She was his slave, she would watch—she had to understand what he was, who he was.

He clamped each of Cheryl’s pussy lips with surgical clamps. He spread the lips, exposing the pink interior, the most private part of a submissive’s body—the part most in need of exposure if a slave is to be reminded of her place, and taped the scissors-like handles to her inner thigh with strips of white medical tape.

“When you took your Master’s collar were you given a safe word?”

“No, Master Alton.”

“Were you promised orgasms and pleasure?”

“No, Master Alton.”

“Were you asked for your input as to what you Master would do with this,” Alton touched the inside of her sex with the blade-like tip of his cane, “pussy, the pussy belonging to your Master?”

“No, Master Alton.”

“Then why did you think you could command your body, a body you gave to your Master?” Alton left her to pick up something from the kitchen. He hadn’t asked her to get it because it was never good to let a slave know all the tools that would be used on them.

“I-I was bored and frustrated, Master.”

Alton hoped her Master was listening. The first few sessions they’d had together had been like therapy and after a spanking Cheryl had broken down crying, saying that her Master took her for granted. Pretending to take a slave for granted was one thing—
actually
doing it was something else, and Alton was not surprised it had driven Cheryl to act out for her Master’s attention. From what he’d heard, it sounded as though the other Dom had gotten lazy, forgetting that a husband who was a Master didn’t have the luxury of being forgetful or neglectful of his wife and slave. Wife or not, if he didn’t want to take the time to dominate her she would leave.

Returning to the play area, Alton took a seat at Cheryl’s back, draping a towel over his knee. Ginger root in one hand, knife in the other, he cut off the smaller fingers until the ginger root was a single, thick piece.

“I think you’ve been a good slave. Obedient once properly taught and punished, willing to serve even without reward. Perhaps I’ll keep you.”

He couldn’t see Cheryl’s face, but he watched her fingers curl into fists. Using the edge of a spoon, he removed the skin from the ginger.

There was a moment of silence and he nearly cursed himself for misreading her before she said, “I want nothing more than to return to my Master, but if he chooses to give me to you, Master Alton, then I would serve him in that way.”

Good
, Alton thought. He picked up the knife once more and cut a depression halfway down the length of the root, making sure the neck was still thick enough that it would not snap.

“You gave up rights to your pleasure and your pain when you accepted your collar.”

“I did, Master Alton.”

Chains rattled and he looked over to see Lulu frowning in confusion, her caning-born fear gone. He set the ginger butt plug on the tray, hiding his smile of anticipation. Lulu clearly had no idea what figging was. She was going to be very surprised when she saw it.

He cleaned his hands with a baby wipe.

Working quickly, he added ropes from Cheryl’s knees to the ceiling, distributing her weight. When the knots were secure, he grabbed the horse and pulled it out from under Cheryl. Her body jerked as her weight dropped into the ropes, but Alton was careful with suspension bondage. She swung there, her body totally vulnerable and open to him.

Taking up the cane, he brought it up in vicious blows on the unmarked part of her ass that had been resting on the horse. Cheryl’s writhing caused her to spin, her body rocking side to side as it turned like a pendulum that, once set in motion, would not stop until he wanted her to.

When her silence broke, her control slipping enough that a scream slipped between her clenched teeth, Alton pulled heavy screw clamps from his pocket. Placing them on her nipples, he tightened them, hard. The short chain connecting them went in her mouth.

“Raise your head.”

She looked up at him under her lashes, pupils dilated. He took a clothespin from the tray and attached it to her inner labia lip. “You do not raise your eyes without permission. You respond to a command from your Master immediately and gracefully.”

He had to repeat his words a second time as she breathed through the pinch of the wooden clothespin on the thin, delicate flesh.

“I’m sorry, Master Alton,” she mumbled around the chain.

“Raise your chin.”

This time she obeyed, nipples distending.

“Higher.”

She paused, perhaps preparing herself, but Alton didn’t like it. He added a clothespin to her as yet unabused inner pussy lip.

She jerked her head up, a thin scream escaping between her teeth, which were clenched around the chain.

“Keep your chin raised.”

He turned her to face the camera—she had rotated away—so her Master could see her suffering. He was known for his creative sadism, at least at parties, and Alton suspected that seeing Cheryl like this, rather than as his normal wife, would help the other Master remember how a slave could and should be used.

“Your Master is watching you. You’ve disappointed him by disobeying me, by refusing to take the pain I know you need.”

She shuddered and closed her eyes, still swinging slightly.

“You are not ready to leave. You’re not a true slave.” Alton ripped one clothespin off. She screamed through her teeth but held her head up, her nipples white between the tips of the clamps. “You can’t handle a Master’s desires.” He removed the other clothespin. This time she didn’t make a sound.

Alton snapped on a rubber glove, lubing up his middle finger. Without warning, except for the snap of the glove, he reached under her and pushed his finger into her ass. Her back arched and Alton twisted his finger. He pulled it out and worked a second in, barking at her to open herself to being used anally.

When he was able to pump both fingers in smoothly, he pulled them out. He cleaned her ass with a baby wipe, not wanting the lube to shield her from the sting of the ginger, which had its own natural oil.

“Show your Master what a good slave you are,” Alton whispered in her ear, free hand on her welt-marked ass to hold her still as he brought the ginger root into place.

He pushed it in in one hard stroke, before the burning could start and she realized what it was. Her anus clenched down around the depression he made in the ginger-turned plug.

“Oh, ohhhh,” Cheryl moaned softly. She was shivering, the muscles in her ass and thighs visibly trembling. Alton picked up the tripod and moved the camera closer, focusing it on the ginger root protruding from her abused ass.

“Drop the chain.”

It fell to the top of her breasts, a long line of saliva glistening on her chin.

“What do you feel?”

“It burns. It hurts. It, it feels so good.” Cheryl nodded her head down to her chest, then lifted it. “Oh, it hurts. I’ve missed it. Thank you, thank you, Master Alton.”

He scooped up a smaller piece of discarded ginger and turned to Lulu.

She started shaking her head as he approached, her eyes wide. Her back hit the wall as she tried and failed to retreat.

He saw it in her eyes, the moment she understood that there was nothing she could to do stop him, that he could, and would, do things to her that she didn’t understand and had never imagined. For one dire moment he wanted to rip her from the chains and use her the way he’d used Cheryl, to push her far beyond what any slave would be able to handle so early in her training.

She was helpless to stop him as he rubbed the ginger over her lips, where the ball gag held them open. He released the gag, dropping it and the ginger to the floor. He kissed her, sharing the sweet pain of the ginger’s burn as their lips fused.

Alton pressed his hips against her, sliding his hand between her ass and the wall. He found the hard base of the plug with his finger and tugged it as he kissed her.

He wanted to lose himself in her, in this moment. There was a strange peace that came with kissing her, a feeling he normally got only after a perfect scene. With her it took nothing more than a kiss.

“I must return to Cheryl,” he whispered, mindful of the camera’s microphone.

“What, what is that? I mean, I know it’s ginger, but why—”

He kissed her into silence. “It’s called figging. In Victorian times ginger plugs were used to keep naughty wives from clenching their asses when they were spanked, because clenching makes the ginger burn worse.”

“Oh.” The look on her face was not one of disgust, and Alton vowed it would not be long before she got a spanking with a little ginger plug in her pretty ass.

“I can’t tell if she’s happy or not,” Lulu whispered, lines of concern back on her face.

“Happy? She may not be happy, but she’s aroused. Even when there’s pain, there’s pleasure.”

“Because her Master made her come here, to you, so you could do these kinds of things to her.” Lulu’s words were slow, her understanding tentative.

“Yes. You were scared yesterday, weren’t you? And you were scared earlier, when I caned her?”

Lulu bit her lip, “It just looked like it
hurt
.”

He slid his hand into the front of her panties. She was hot and wet, her pussy swollen and ready for his touch.