BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

Xavier examined his handiwork. It was one of his better setups, and yet he felt slightly ill at the thought of actually stepping back and letting everyone touch her.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

The word was a mantra in his mind. In less than a day Mae had invaded his mind and soul, making him want things he couldn’t have. The more submission she gave, the more drawn to her he was.

He needed to see others touching her, needed the emotional distance it would provide. She could use her safe word—if she did he’d end the scene, rather than just halting it—but he had a sinking feeling that she wouldn’t. Mae had yet to back down from a challenge.

Her pussy was lovely—wet and pink, begging to be pleasured. For someone like Mae, who wasn’t used to scenes that didn’t include sexual fulfillment, the past twenty hours must have been torture. He had no doubt that she was more than ready to come, no matter who it was who touched her.

Still her admission that she would rather continue to be denied pleasure and wait for his touch was like gasoline thrown on the fire of his desire for her.

Xavier laid his hand on her stomach. She tensed, then relaxed, almost as if she’d realized who was touching her.

That was the last straw. Xavier stepped away, leaving her alone and exposed in her bindings. He looked at the crowd of fifteen or so people who had gathered.

“Mae is available for you to enjoy. Fingers and mouths only. No fucking.” Mae made a strangled sound behind the gag. Xavier raised his voice, making sure everyone heard him. “She is not allowed to come.”

Several people chuckled. “What happens if she does come?” someone called out.

“If she orgasms then the breast whipping she has coming will be much more severe.” He put menace in the words, wanting to scare Mae, giving her the fear as a tool to help control her body’s reaction to what was about to happen.

moaned, her hips lifting

was, as he suspected, deeply masochistic, the idea of a severe breast whipping might

up a chair, positioning it so he could sit while playing with her pussy, Xavier tapped him on the shoulder. He smiled knowingly and

pretty female slave was kneeling by Mae’s head, kissing her neck just above the collar, while her owner fished an ice cube from his drink and ran it over Mae’s belly. Xavier had known that every inch of flesh he

on the barrel, he leaned forward and blew across her wet pussy lips, letting her know someone was

pussy clench. Xavier used two fingers to further part her outer labia. Her vagina was lovely, the soft folds swollen

she’d fight the orgasm in an effort to obey. She’d fail, but

Xavier lowered his mouth

* * *

No. No. No.

her best to ignore the person kissing the sensitive skin of her neck and the cold brush of ice over her stomach, but she wouldn’t be able to ignore direct stimulation

brushed her clit, the barest touch. She jumped, a spike of pleasure lancing through her. Clenching her belly muscles, she braced herself

stroking her inner labia in a smooth rhythm. Maybe if it continued like this she’d

pressed over her, a tongue stroked her

her nose, gasping at the sudden, sharp pleasure. She’d moved enough to dislodge the

tried to lift her hips and

and tugging them, then a finger circled the entrance to her body, pressing in just enough to remind her how

two fingers—pressed against her entrance and Mae stiffened. She wanted to be