Note: This story is a continuation of my story "Highway Exposure", but several chapters on. I am writing a novella and have several other chapters in the works. Eventually, once I have written enough, I will put it all together.
*
D. sat, comfortably ensconced in a wingback chair to the right of the fireplace. At his feet, a rather lovely slave leaned against his legs, running her long slender fingers softly along the inside of his leg up to his thigh. Dark hair, swept up severely from a fine brow and narrow face, large lustrous strands falling in artful disarray across one slender shoulder. Almond shaped eyes, tip tilted, lent an exotic air to the fine boned features, the only anomaly a pouting mobile mouth. A thick leather collar encircled the slender neck; narrow leather straps attached with silver rings swept down and cupped the full, plump breasts, their dark nipples stiff. A scrap of material cupped the underside of the heavy breasts, supporting their weight and offering them as if on a platter. A gauzy underskirt barely masked the voluptuous figure of the slave, the dark triangle at the apex of her thighs silkily obvious through its folds.
D. kept up a desultory conversation with the rather striking domme who sat in an identical chair to the left of the fire. Her tall spare figure was severely garbed in a long leather skirt, split to the thigh and her long lovely legs, encased to the thigh in supple leather boots with 4-inch stilettos rested on the lap of her sub, a stalwart lad with blond curls who rested a handsome head against his mistress's warm thigh. Absently, the domme would rub her foot against the bulge of the boy's leather clad groin and D. grinned inwardly as the boy's face would redden, then pale as his prick would stiffen and then squeezed in a steel cock ring, subside.
Glancing about the room casually, D. masked his inward amusement at the spectacle of his fellow devotees and their attendants. Settling himself more comfortably in the chair, an exact replica of one described in many of the novels about 22B Baker Street, he found it in himself to be grateful his sense of irony hadn't entirely deserted him.
As much as he loved the lifestyle he had adopted many years before, his strong sense of practicality and reality often intruded on the somewhat fanciful world he inhabited. While many adopted the trappings with ease, immersing themselves in fantasy, D.'s clear gaze was unable to entirely sublimate the absurdity of some of the outward manifestations.
The room was quite crowded as this, the second Saturday of each month always provided good entertainment as Damian usually introduced new submissives to the group as part of their training. Glancing about the room, D. noted that the numbers of doms and dommes were fairly evenly matched, with the edge perhaps in favour of the females. Male submissives and slaves, for some reason, were far more numerous than a true heterosexual submissive female and many doms searched for years before finding a compatible sub he wished to keep.
Outwardly, D. was calm, his mobile face serene, the green eyes relaxed. Inside, he felt remarkably nervous, his stomach churning. He knew S. was being introduced tonight and despite having seen her used by several others at this point, this would be the first truly public display of his possession and he was equal parts proud and apprehensive. That secret part of him that few knew existed caused him great anguish as he contemplated seeing his beloved S. fucked by other cocks. He had found out much about himself over the past several weeks, and had had to continually reassess his own limits and search deep within himself to ascertain what his true desires demanded. He was, at this point, having seen his darling flogged, spanked, used and abused, conversant with his real desires and that was that once her training was complete, he would take S. away. He realized, being painfully honest with himself, that he harboured real regrets over the course he had chosen – that had he know how difficult it would be to see her humiliated he might have chosen differently. Yet, an introspective man, painfully honest with himself, he recognized too that as much as it bothered him to see S. abused, that part of him that made him what he was relished it and found it immensely arousing.
The course was set and knowing that so many others were going to see his S. used definitely provided a fillip of excitement that he had been missing in his life. Putting his hand down, he tangled it in the dark curls of the slave, pulling slightly so that she sighed and hung her head. Leaning over, he cupped a heavy breast, contemplating its swelling richness with a rather absent air, then fingering the hard nipples felt his prick stir. Pressing the breast into his hand, the slave ran her hand up his thigh to cup the growing bulge. D. pinched the stiff nipple between his fingers, hard, then suddenly, with no warning, smacked it and admired the way the plump expanse jiggled, the mark of his hand livid against its pale flesh. Sighing, the slave merely leaned into his punishing fingers, her breath coming faster.
A stir at the front of the room distracted him, and dropping the plump breast, D. looked up. The ornate doors opened and the trainees entered, their keepers leading them by silver leads attached to the leather collars encircling their necks.
Ignoring the others, D.'s eyes fastened avidly on his darling. She looked, he thought relieved, quite marvellous. Tall and slender, her magnificent hair was pulled up in a complicated riot of curls, baring the long neck which looked obscenely vulnerable in its thick leather collar. Despite all that she had undergone in the past two weeks, S. stood tall and proud, resigned but unbroken, her shoulders squared and proud, the small plump breasts tip tilted, their long pink nipples stiff, thrown into relief by the fact that her arms were cuffed behind her. The long slender torso and narrow hips were naked except for a simple leather harness that encircled but bared those pretty breasts and clasped the narrow hips, straps running down to circle each thigh but leaving the smooth shaved pudendum open. Her marvellous long shapely legs with their taut thighs and swelling calves were one of S.'s best feature and showed to advantage in gartered pale stockings and knee length stiletto boots. The contrast of the boots and stockings against her nakedness was provocative and shocking and immensely arousing. Judging from the reactions, D. knew he wasn't the only one who found it captivating.
S. was most assuredly the most captivating trainee among the three that entered and for that D. was thankful.
As he watched, Lydia tugged at the lead, thus turning S. so that her back faced him. He felt his prick jerk and swell as he saw the marks of her flogging the night before clear upon the pale, delicate skin of her back. Long welts criss crossed the expanse of flesh in an expert pattern and grudgingly D. admitted to himself that Damian's hand with the whip was second to none. Not once did he see where the sting of the crop had struck twice.
The smooth, taut cheeks of S.'s bottom were crimson and narrowing his gaze, D. could see that there were even one or two drops of blood, a thin rivulet which trickled down the keep furrow between. He felt an avaricious desire to go to her and run his finger along that hot red ass, to put his finger to the thin trickle of blood and then sip its sweet nectar.
He became aware that the slave at his feet was rubbing his stiffening prick through the cloth of his pants. Pushing slightly into the expert fingers, he pulled back, then charged her to desist. Standing, he indicated the slave was to follow him and he began to make his way across the room.
****
As S. came into the room, she felt her heart beating frantically and wondered if whoever was there could see its throbbing beneath her chest . She prayed that outwardly her agitation was not obvious; she would be mortified if others saw her fear. Her eyes blindfolded, she stumbled slightly as Lydia guided her through the crowd, an experienced hand using the leash which was clipped to S.'s collar to guide her.
Beneath the blindfold, S. eyes moved frantically. She could hear voices and felt around her the crush of people, scents and voices mingling and confusing. Her other senses had become hyper aware when her vision was taken and she was astonished at how much she could surmise without her eyes. Without her vision, she couldn't know for certain but she felt, strongly, the room was crowded. She could feel the warmth from many bodies, while her hearing was acute and could make out the murmur of many voices over the low music.
The pale skin of her arms flinched as fingers trailed along her shoulder blade. S. steeled herself as the fingers came down and cupped her breast, squeezing and feeling the weight of that sweet morsel of flesh. She stood quietly as she had been told as yet another pair of hands seized the other breast, less gently than the one that now clasped and cupped her left breast. The new hands squeezed hard, making her stifle a groan as they cruelly twisted the small breast, seizing then pinching the nipple.
Then shockingly, she felt a hand probing between her legs, pushing a finger between the smooth, slippery lips and without any preliminaries, pushing up her tight passage. Behind she felt the warmth of another body and then the unmistakable feel of a moist prick rubbing between the taut cheeks of her ass.
Her breath quickened and she consciously worked at slowing her panting, forcing herself to try to relax as the stiff prick rubbed a dribbling head up and down the furrow of her buttocks. The other hand pushed several fingers up her cunt, rubbing the sides and pushing open the swollen folds almost painfully.
