In the gloom of the club she knelt beside him, leaning into his leg, comforted by his hand playing with the strands of her hair or tracing the curve of her shoulder. Around them music and lights pulsed and moved. People talked, danced, laughed and enjoyed themselves. But she was quiet, still, lost in her own world yet acutely conscious of her Master sitting beside her. Her mouth still echoed with the fierce thrusting of the man's cock, and the salty taste of his seed lingered on her tongue. She had obeyed her Master and he was pleased. In his pleasure, she sat, quietly, and wondered, thinking back to the afternoon a few hours before.
Since arriving the night before, her Master had done so much with her.
From his arrival when he had finally collared her to this just finished flogging session, she had inhabited her submissive place almost continuously. Now, her Master was taking care of her in preparation for the party that evening.
He took her into the bathroom and drew a hot bath using her favorite bubbles. He lit candles and switched off the main light in order to create a romantic atmosphere.
Then, when she rose from the water like a latter day Venus, her carefully dried her off in a warm fluffy towel.
She was puzzled by his behavior, and only her feeling of great tiredness stopped her from complaining, insisting that she was there to serve him. But he knew why she was so tired. After all their play together, her body was going through a reaction, a condition sometimes called sub-drop, and he was giving her the love and support she needed to move through that state of almost emotional decompression..
Later, as she sat the breakfast bar in the kitchen, he explained all this to her. By now, after some juice and salad, she was starting to regain her energy. Yet again she was made aware that for this man, her submission was not a selfish game, but a serious relationship, and yet again she was thankful for his experience.
"Anyway," he said smiling, "I want you to be looking your best tonight. I have a number of online friends who will be there tonight, and they are itching to find out more about my darling submissive."
She felt a swirl of emotions n her stomach.
"Oh my god, what have you told them about me?"
"Just that you are mine, my own special submissive, and that this week we are finally together. I thought it would be much better for them to see how beautiful you are in person. Apart form that, I think an air of mystery is much more appropriate."
She smiled at this. Her outfit didn't leave a lot to the imagination, and she wondered where the mystery was.
For a while afterwards they had sat curled up on the couch together, limbs entwined and just enjoying being with each other. Somehow, she had never imagined that being a submissive would have such a normality about it at times. Obviously the flogging and clamps were unusual, but this was almost like any other relationship. Except that now she felt privileged to be here, sitting so close to her Master. He could have easily required her to kneel on the floor by his side, and she would have happily obeyed. But here, in this way, he was showing his appreciation of her, and she was grateful and delighting in it.
All too soon, however, he sat up.
"Come on my pet, it's time we started to get ready for this evening. But first, I want you to remove your bathrobe and kneel in front of me."
Without hesitation she stood, slipped off the garment and knelt between his legs, her hands behind her.
As always, his heart stopped at her beauty, her openness to him, the curves of her breasts thrust forward by her held back shoulders, the swell of her hips holding the promise of passion and desire.
"My darling pet, tonight we will be celebrating our love in public. I have been looking forward to this evening for months. Are you ready now to obey me in front of other people? Are you ready to trust me and do what I ask without question?"
She heard his questions with a gentle smile. If only he knew how much she loved him, how much she had dreamed to be in just this place with him. She wished he could see into the bright heart of her devotion, because then he would know that these questions were unnecessary. Wasn't her nakedness enough of an answer? Wasn't her naked service that morning a sufficient proof?
But also, she knew that he was asking for both of them, he insisted on making explicit the bond of love and trust between them. He genuinely wanted her hear her affirmation, her assent to his owning of her. For him, just hearing her words was a source of happiness. So, she gave him what he sought, and what she had given totally many months before.
"Yes Master, I am ready. Whatever you ask, I will do. Whatever you desire, I will give."
He cupped her face in his two hands and leaned in to kiss her softly on her lips, turning her face up to meet his.
"Then I know I am in possession of the most wonderful woman in the world."
His kiss and his words made her whimper with hunger, her cunt suddenly aflame with need. She was his slave slut, and his love fed her desire for his mastery.
The party was a Gala night, the opening of a new club, and He was fortunate to obtain two tickets. For the occasion he wore a dinner jacket, the black and white elegance the perfect foil for the display of his submissive. His gold shirt studs were capped with moon stones, and his cuffs were held with links in the form of a padlock and a key.
Her outfit was nothing more than an invitation to openly admire and lust after her body. She wore thin high black heels and elasticated top stockings, her ankles enclosed with leg cuffs. Her cunt was shaved smooth, and again lined with the lipstick. Above the provocative display of her sex there was a lacy black corset shot through with burgundy ribbons, a silk rose nestling in her cleavage. In response to his request, however, she had trimmed of the lace cups, and so her breasts with their pierced nipples were fully on display. Over long lace gloves she wore her leather cuffs, and around her neck the play collar with the restraining rings.
On her face, however, she wore a half mask, her mouth with its bright painted lips still available for any man he desired to give her to. The feathers and colors of the mask gave her a fantasy look, like an airbrushed sex toy. As she looked in the mirror, she felt herself moisten as she imagined the hands that would touch and caress her, and the cocks that would itch to possess her.
Before they left the house he coupled her wrists together in front of her and clipped a silver dog lead to her collar. Over her shoulders he placed a long warm cloak lined with red silk. She was ready now, his pet, his toy, his treasure. It was if everything of the last months had been building up to this, the realization of their dreams and desires.
It was a long taxi ride to the club, and she had rested her head against his shoulders and closed her eyes. The stripes on her bottom still ached, but she felt their scoring with pride, happy to marked in such an obvious way by him.
Inside the club she walked with all the elegance she could muster, her shoulders back and her head held up, though with her eyes downcast. The tugging of the lead on the collar she found intensely arousing, and she was sure that everyone could see her labia swelling with anticipation. Above all, though, she was filled with pride for her Master, that she looked so good for him. From the whispered comments as she went past she knew that he was gaining a large measure of respect by his public ownership of her.
"Ah, Nicholas, It's so good to see you. How have you been? Where is your delightful Sam?"
A rich Southern voice answered back.
