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.

“Did he just

mind that, did Master

* * *

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 against someone, her bound

reached her

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

so often someone would tug on it, reminding her she had it.

Xavier had taken more turns than she could

she would have sworn she was too worn out to come again, after only

thigh muscles continued to tremble—not with

“You’ve been serviced enough.”

her legs, but they were too stiff. Multiple pairs of hands helped rub the circulation back into her limbs. Finally she was lifted off the barrel. She swayed on her feet, curling her fingers

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

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

like this, and she

arms. She looked at him—a dark presence looming over her shoulder. He looked implacable