BDSM Checklist: A, B, C

Mae nodded when he told her that he was going to punish her, hoping he couldn’t tell that right now the threat sounded more like foreplay. The person between her legs was quickly bringing her close to a second orgasm.

Xavier leaned close, his cheek brushing hers. “You’re lovely when you come…and you have a delicious pussy.” There was a smile in his voice.

That had been him? Delighted that he’d been the first to touch her, the first to make her orgasm, was quickly followed by irritation that he’d given an order and then made sure she’d fail.

“You jerk. I should have known it was you.” Her words were totally unintelligible.

Xavier laughed, as if he’d understood her despite the gag. The hands and mouths pleasuring Mae all stopped. She had the strangest feeling that everyone was looking at Xavier, as if they couldn’t believe what they’d just heard.

He brushed his lips over hers, the kiss awkward because of the gag, apparently not aware or not caring that he’d shocked everyone.

“You’d better not come again. If you do I might have to spank that pretty pussy.”

Mae came. It took her by surprise, the orgasm caused by the delicious threat, the undeniably erotic situation he’d put her in, and the sound of his voice in her ear. She couldn’t stop the moans, or her hips from lifting. Anyone watching would know exactly what was happening deep inside her, despite the fact that at that moment no one was touching her.

With a whimper at failing yet again she hid her face against her arm. Xavier tugged at her collar, then kissed her neck before rising.

she heard some ask, “Did he just make her orgasm

that, did Master

* * *

empty. But then someone pushed another ice cube into her ass before rubbing her clit. Mae arched her back, her shoulders and head pressing against the submissive who was supporting her. Ten minutes ago Master Xavier had helped her to half sit up. She was still bound to the barrel, still blindfolded and gagged, but now her upper body was resting

was walking toward her. She could tell when he reached her side. It was as if there

least she didn’t think so. Never before had she been exposed to such prolonged pleasure. This made a few “forced” orgasms from a vibrator seem like vanilla sex. If she hadn’t been gagged she would have long ago tried to get out of this, either by

held the safe word cloth, and every so often someone would tug on it, reminding her she had it. If her Master wanted her here, if he thought she could take more,

touch—Master Xavier had taken more turns than she could count, tormenting

out to come again, after only a

through, her stomach and thigh muscles continued to tremble—not with pleasure, but with

“You’ve been serviced enough.”

barrel once more. There was the screech of nails being pulled from wood, then the pressure of her leg bindings loosened. When they were gone she tried to straighten her legs, but they were too stiff. Multiple pairs of hands helped rub the circulation back

by pink splotches and her face was free of makeup, though there was a streak of mascara along one temple. She was the vision of a well-used submissive, the kind of woman who obeyed without question, who gave everything she was over

breasts, her legs were crisscrossed with red stripes from the bindings, the bites on her inner thigh had darkened to

this, and

shoulder.