“With the proper discipline.” That came from Frank, sending a thrill through her vitals. She was losing herself here, and that was okay. She could do that. It didn’t matter that it all felt out of control, that she was afraid, that she had no idea where to go from here.
“She was worked over pretty good recently.” That from Master L. His fingers trailed the bruises along her thighs, the welts underneath what they were doing. Ben’s marks.
“Not good enough,” she said. “More.”
“Quiet,” Frank said. The cane struck her bare buttocks and she cried out, bucking against the cross. More, more, more.
But then there was a pause. No one touched her as they had between all the other blows. She didn’t know why until she heard his voice.
“Frank, Master L, a word?”
Ben. Before she could turn her head, another male was gripping her hair, pushing her forehead against the crosspiece, telling her not to move. She knew that hand, knew firsthand how tight he could hold her. Even as something feral inside her wanted to struggle against it, bite and take a few of his fingers off, her arousal intensified threefold. Her pussy contracted, a short expulsion of cream. Damn traitorous body.
“Master L, this is my slave. She disobeyed me by seeking another Master tonight. My apologies for depriving you of the pleasure, but she needs discipline at my hand.”
“Problem, gentlemen? Ben?”
Another voice, one she was sure belonged to the assigned dungeon master. Despite his obvious familiarity with Ben, an interruption to a session in progress was bound to catch his attention. In a moment, he’d ask her what she wanted, who she wanted. Whatever her decision, the DM would make a judgment as to what was best. If anything seemed hinky, he’d end the scene, period.
Ben explained the situation to him as he explained it to Master L and Frank, no more, no less, which of course left a lot unexplained. If he claimed she was bratting to get his attention, she swore she’d take his cock off with the nearest sharp object she could find. She hadn’t come here looking for him, no matter that her body cried out for him the moment he’d released her hair, stepped back.
Even without his grip, she was all too aware she kept staring forward, just as he’d commanded with that physical cue. Now the DM was at her side. “Ma’am,” he said quietly, “you’re safe here. What do you want to do?”
She could tell Master L that Ben was lying. The DM would make Ben back off. Frank and Master L would continue to work their magic and she could get lost in the physical pleasure of the orgasm they’d undoubtedly give her. That would be that.
Her scalp was tingling from his touch, and the ache that they’d started from mere physical touch was now an agony of emotional need. She stared at the polished crosspiece. “Master L…Frank, sir, thank you both. But my Master is correct. I apologize for taking him away from Miss Big Tits at the bar to address my insubordination.”
The DM had to work to disguise the half-snort, half-chuckle, but it puffed along her cheek. His tone remained serious, however. “All right, ma’am.” He turned his attention to Ben. “Involving two other Doms without informing them that they’re walking into an ongoing session with your sub is bad etiquette, and can be dangerous. I trust it won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t. My apologies to you gentlemen as well,” Ben said, nothing given away in his voice. Marcie curled her fingers in the cuffs. He was taking the blame, the quickest way to get rid of them. What the hell did he want from her? She was torn between confusion and anger.
As the DM returned to his post, she heard Master L and Frank gathering their tools. “A good slave,” Master L said dryly, probably from her double-edged apology. “Thanks for the pleasure of her, Ben. You’re fortunate, despite her willfulness. If you need assistance with her punishment, I’d be happy to help.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. But for now…”
“Back off.” There was a grin in Frank’s tone. “No problem.”
The two men moved away, leaving a blanket of silence around them. She wasn’t sure what look Ben had cast around them, but she had the sense that the casual voyeurs had given them a little more distance. Sounds of whipping punctuated the air nearby, followed by cries of pleasure. An undercurrent of sultry music had been playing throughout, but now it all seemed muted against the roaring white noise in her head, the red haze over her vision. When Ben curled his hand in her hair once again, Marcie clenched her teeth. “If you untie me, try to make me go home, I’ll go right back to them.”
“I have no intention of untying you.” His body pressed up against her as she drew in a breath at the size of the erection pressed against her sore bare buttocks. The deadly calm of his voice made a cold knot in her belly. “You’re such a good little researcher, Marcella. Tell me what consensual non-consent is.”
She swallowed. “It’s when the slave or sub…when her safe word is only for a medical emergency. Within the boundaries they’ve set, the Dom can do anything he wishes.”
“Are you willing to give me CNC?”
She was angry with him, frustrated beyond belief, confused. He’d had CNC with her from the very beginning. When he exercised his Mastery over her, the moment he touched her, she trusted him down to the level of her soul. It was one of the many reasons she knew what she knew. Could she set aside the hurt, the pain, to embrace that right now? Or would she tell him to fuck off and let her go?
She knew the answer to that. She closed her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Boundaries?”
“You know them. What happened to the blonde you were going to fuck?”
In answer, he stepped away from
