Perdita's Pleasures B. 01

Chapter Three: Submit

I don't know what I'd been expecting, exactly. A darkly-lit dungeon, perhaps, kitted out with every kind of implement. Or an interview chamber, claustrophobic, where I'd be expected to lay all my secret wants bare before this new dom. A bedroom.

Surely, I had not imagined the ballroom, filled with dinner guests in gowns and black ties, in which I now found myself.

I was waiting with the rest of my group behind the curtains of a raised stage at the front of the room. Mistress Agrippa presided at a small podium, speaking to the seated audience.

At first glance this could be any formal gathering. It was only once I looked, and saw that the servers weaving though the crowd were dressed in fetish ware, or hardly at all; that some of those seated around the tables wore a mask, or were attached by leash to one of their fellow diners; that some of the suits and dresses that seemed so formal at first glance in fact included subtle alterations, ones that gave a distinctly unwholesome flavour to the ensemble.

The attendant who waited with us backstage began to push us toward the lights.

"And now let's have a welcome" called Agrippa through the microphone, "to our other new students at the house this week: the bottoms."

There was applause as we were ushered onstage and made to stand in a line behind Agrippa. My stomach dropped to the floor and my blood beat in my ears. All my fears of exposure were conjured here; I wanted to run. I saw Oscar, seated at one of the tables. He waved at me, and blew a kiss in my direction. I wanted to run to him, to tell him to take me home and hide me forever and ever. He would have to do it; we'd agreed.

Contemplating my freedom to leave bought me time enough to stay. I took a deep, deliberate breath, and looked at some of the other faces in the crowd. I recognized a few of the house masters from earlier: the one called Daddy something was at Oscar's table; Mistress Tigerlily, recognizable by the large tattoo of her namesake flower across her chest, was at the next. I'd thought Master Aries' table would be front and centre, but when I finally saw him it was in the second row.

"As you know," Agrippa had been saying, "many of these sweet things up here are new, and are under the tutelage of the house doms. If you are invited to play with one of them, do so with that in mind—and with the express permission of their master.

"Alright, now let's see who these poor lucky things belong to..."

Mistress Agrippa began to read names off a list, calling us one by one to step forward and then declaring for which table we were to depart the stage. Murmurs of applause and speculation went through the room as each name was announced. I listened as each master was assigned an allotment of my compatriots. Most of them took two of the new subs, though a couple seemed content with only one. When a third name was assigned to Master Black, Mistress Tigerlily shot a hand into the air.

"I'll take that one, Trevor," she called out. "Come on, you've got two already."

"So do you," Master Black replied, "and this is not an auction." His voice was stern but his expression bore a faint hint of amusement, as he turned back to face the student, who was standing unsurely on the stage.

"Four hundred dollars," said Tigerlily, over the crowd. "And the use of my darkroom for one afternoon."

Master Black deliberated, to whistles from the audience.

"Two afternoons," he said finally.

Tigerlily agreed, and the new sub left for her table looking somewhat dumbstruck.

Soon, only two of us were left.

"And last but never least, for Master Aries, we have..." said Agrippa. "Olive. Step forward."

The other woman left with me went to the centre of the stage. She held her head high, and the bright lights glowed upon her honey brown hair.

"The things I could do to her," said Agrippa evenly, into the mic. There was laughter in the crowd as the girl called Olive stepped off the stage and walked towards Master Aries' table.

"And also to Master Aries: the chocolate-haired Perdita. I'll give you all a moment to imagine those big brown eyes looking up at you, begging... Perdita: step forward."

It took a moment for my feet to catch up to the command. So I was going to Master Aries. The one with the voice.

I didn't hear the noise of the diners as I made my way to his table; my pulse beat loud enough to drown a storm. But I went.

I approached the man called Aries: lean jaw, oak-brown hair, dark eyes. He sat with ease and I could feel his energy almost physically, radiating toward me.

Olive was beaming and sitting across his lap, and I saw that there were no empty chairs nearby. Where was I to go? Aries smiled lightly, and pointed to the floor beside him.

"Perdita. Please, sit."

I looked at the other faces around the table. Some of them were watching; most were not. No one seemed surprised or shocked at the suggestion so I knelt, casting my eyes downward as I sunk to the floor. Why was I to kneel, and not the other girl? Was I an afterthought, not really meant to be here? Poisons of dread and anxious paralytics raced through my mind.

Then Aries' left thigh moved just slightly, and came to touch my shoulder. A moment later I felt his hand on the back of my head: no pressure, just a gentle touch, before moving down to give my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He left his hand there for a moment, before withdrawing it, and I felt the electricity; subtle, waiting. I wasn't being ignored, no.

He was playing a game with me.

Back on the stage, Agrippa had finish speaking, and soft dinner music had begun to play. I kept my head bowed out of shame but I could hear the clinking of glasses, scraping of plates, and the din of conversation. I didn't listen to what was said. I was conscious of Aries only, waiting for him to touch me again. His hand was stroked Olive's back—almost at my eye level—and I felt jealous. I imagined her smug, superior in his favour. But then Aries touched my shoulder once again, and I closed my eyes and basked.

He stoked the hair on the side of my head and I leaned my cheek into the caress, unthinking. In response, his hand slid over the front of my blouse to cup my right breast.

My heart beat. What if someone saw?

They wouldn't blink at it, I told myself. Not in this place.

Aries slipped his hand beneath the blouse's open collar, closed his fingers on naked flesh. My nipples hardened and he pinched one, teasingly. A gasp escaped me, and I rocked forward where I knelt. Aries pinched the nipple harder. Perhaps it shouldn't have, but it felt good to have this man —who I'd never actually spoken to before—caress me like this. It wasn't just that he was handsome, or that he was master of this house. It was the thing I'd felt when he'd looked at me in the hall that day, that made me slick with wanting as I burned beneath his touch.

Despite the aching in my legs from the long crouch I held as still as I could, not wanting him to move his hand from me. When at length he did pull away, I stifled a whimper.

"Well my friends, I believe it's time that I retire for the evening," came Aries' resonant voice above the table. "Please forgive me; I have some business to attend before my night is done."

Olive slid from his lap as he stood, and Aries held out a hand to help me off the floor. I grasped it, as greedy for the contact as I was thankful for the gesture of dignity.

The Master beckoned, and we followed him out of the room. As I left the table, I saw two other men rise also, and walk out with us.

***

As we exited the ballroom, my stomach growled loudly. Had Olive had been given dinner, seated at the table? I hadn't noticed either way, my attention having been rather occupied.

"Yes, no doubt you both are hungry," Aries said. Apparently I wasn't the only one who'd heard my stomach rumble.

"Don't worry, I won't forget to feed you."

Master Aries led us down the hall toward what looked to be a mostly empty room. He asked the two men to busy themselves across the hall, and told me to wait outside the door as he went in with Olive.

I waited for an age before footsteps approached from within the room, the door jolted open, and Aries motioned me inside. Olive slipped past to exchange places with me.

Inside, I could see the room looked to be mid-renovation. An empty kitchen bar stood in the centre, its marble countertop glowing in the spotlights trained on it from above. A few chairs and a roll of carpet in one corner was all else in the room. Master Aries sat on one of the chairs, and motioned for me to do the same.

"So," he said. "Perdita Price. May I call you Perdita?"

I nodded.

"Perdita. I'm pleased to meet you. Have you been treated well since you arrived at Eros House today?"

"Yes," I answered honestly.

"Good. And what happened in the ballroom; was that ok for you? Yes? Ok. I wanted to be sure."

He interlaced his fingers in front of him, and I couldn't help but watch his hands and remember how brazenly they'd touched me.

"I chose your file because I feel we may work compatibly, Perdita," Aries continued, "but I'd like to hear from you upfront if you have any reason to feel otherwise, or if you have any questions for me before we begin."

I couldn't think of any.

"Alright," he said. "Would you go collect Olive for me then?"

He told both of us, then, how he expected the next week to go. How, as we played we would build trust in him, and vice versa, enabling us to unlock our deepest sexual selves. How a week from now, when Olive and I were reunited with the partners we had come with we would be able to be putty in their well-trained hands.

"When we are together I expect you to refer to me as Sir. I will ask much of you; sometimes it will be easy for you to comply, other times perhaps not so much so. If it becomes unbearable or feels unsafe, you have your safe words: yellow; red. Renegotiation will always be an option. Otherwise... I will expect obedience."

Silence hung in the air as Master Aries finished speaking. He let it linger for a full minute.

"Good," he said at last. "Then let us begin."

"Stand up," he commanded, his tone suddenly abrupt. "Over there." He walked around us, slowly, as he spoke.

"Within this house I am known, with affection, as the Whoremaster. That is because I enjoy, and my submissives enjoy, my distribution of their affections as I please, among my guests and friends. I like to refer to my submissives as whores. I like to watch them as I call them that; to see their enjoyment of it."

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry, as Aries paused in front of me. Looked in my eyes.

"The problem is, you two haven't done much yet to earn that title, have you?" he said softly.

"No, Sir," said Olive and I.

"No," he agreed. "I am a kind Master though, and I will ease you into your service. For tonight, all I want is to see a simple demonstration of how well you take cock. For this, my friends who accompanied us earlier have graciously agreed to assist."

"Take your hands and grasp your opposite elbows behind your back," he instructed.

We did it, and he picked up a roll of black, shiny tape from the countertop. It was the only item in the room other than the furniture, and I realized it had been placed there for this very purpose.

Aries wound the tape around my wrists and forearms, binding them together behind me. When he had done the same to Olive, he stopped to regard his handiwork. As a last touch, he came over to me again and unbuttoned my blouse, parting the fabric to expose my chest to the bare room. Then he instructed us to wait.

Some minutes later Master Aries returned. He was not alone; the two men who'd followed us out of the ballroom were with him. At least I thought it was them; our backs were to them as we stood facing the deserted kitchen island in the middle of the room.

"It's been far too long since I enjoyed one of your personal sluts, Aries," I heard one of the men say.

"Yes, and my apologies," came Aries' voice, drily. "With these, you have the honour of being first. I hope it goes some way toward making amends."

"Now, my whores, if that is what you are: present yourselves. Yes, bend over the countertop, for me, please."

It was just tall enough that I could plant my feet flat on the ground without standing on my toes. The marble surface felt cold against my cheek and exposed torso as I leaned my body onto it, and waited with baited breath.

I can't be doing this, I thought—yet oh, yes, I was. And I wanted it; was thrilled with apprehension. One of the men—I couldn't say which—approached me from behind. I felt him pushing up my skirt, exposing my naked ass beneath, and kneading the skin with the palm of his hand.

I felt the man's touch on the lips of my cunt. He stroked me for a moment, dipped his fingers into me and spread around the wetness. Then, he separated the labia with his fingers and slid his hard cock inside.

I had never been fucked by someone I didn't know—had hardly seen—before. The friction between the transgression and the way his cock felt pumping in and out of me ignited in my blood, and I burned against the cold stone countertop.

Beside me, Olive turned her head so that the two of us were staring at each other as the men behind us fucked us. Olive's face was flushed, a vein stood out faintly on her forehead, and a small puddle of drool began to spill from her open mouth as she was pounded into. There was a strange intimacy to it. I saw the shame and pleasure on her face; saw it reflect my own.

"I'm getting close," said one of the men. "Do you want them to come?"

"No no, not necessary," came Aries' voice, from the side of the room. "If I might make a request, though, I'd have you finish in their mouths. I did promise them a meal."

Within a minute or so, the man who'd been fucking me pulled out and walked around to the other side of the counter. He wrapped his fingers in my hair and pulled my head up. Stretching forward on my tip toes, I could just reach my chin over the far side of the counter. The man coaxed my mouth open with his other hand and fed his cock into it, slick and scented with my juices.

He tasted like my cunt. I closed my eyes and sucked, lavishing my tongue on him, my lips, my throat as I strained forward. It did not take long before he tensed, pushed hard into me, and I tasted the surge of his salty come against the back of my throat. I relaxed into his orgasm, my whole body willing, recipient, as I swallowed.

The man stroked my hair for a moment and then withdrew from my mouth. His friend finished soon afterward, and both of them quietly exited the room as soon as the last sounds of their pleasure were over.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. There was a light draft from somewhere, and I felt it playing on the edge of my still rucked-up skirt and over my bare bare behind. I heard footsteps as Master Aries came around behind us and, standing in between myself and Olive, began to unwind the bondage tape that held our arms.

The Master made soothing sounds of approval as he rubbed the skin of my forearms, checking to ensure there had not been any circulation issues. Gently, he smoothed my skirt back down and told us to get up. I felt embarrassed to face him after what had just happened, but he instructed me to make eye contact with him.

"How was that?" he asked.

"Good. Sir," I whispered. Aries smiled.

***

When we were finally shown to our room for the night, I exhaled gratefully and collapsed face-first onto one of the twin beds in the tiny, dorm-like room. Olive sat on the edge of the other. The room was basic, with a small sink in one corner and no decoration save for an oil painting on the far wall, depicting the trials of Psyche as she fought for the love of Eros.

Minutes after our arrival there was a knock at the door, and a serving girl entered with a metal pitcher of water and a large platter of cheeses, nuts, and fruit.

"From Master Aries," she said, and left.

My stomach growled ferociously as we fell to our feast. Olive was full of questions and excitement, but as my hunger left me I felt the weight of my exhaustion and begged for sleep and silence.

I relaxed into the crisp, clean sheets, but sleep did not come easy. I lay awake for some time in the dark, reliving everything that had happened since my arrival at Eros House. I wondered what Oscar's day had been like since we parted company. Had it been anything like mine? I tried to imagine, but despite all our conversations and agreements I felt guilty for what I had done, and jealous at the thought of Oscar doing it too.

It was too much for my tired body, and at last I slept, my head full with the sound of Master Aries' voice.