heavy in my nose. Cara leant against my shoulder, positioning herself out of Raven’s view. She whispered so quietly I could hardly hear her. “Play with yourself if you like. Everyone does... or we could do it for you.” She placed a hand on my knee and I clamped my legs shut instinctively, embarrassment burning my face.
Masque upped the ante on stage, brutalising Red’s swollen breasts. He slapped them hard, and loud. Hard enough to make Red whimper. She jerked under his assault, her head lolling back in pain, but she was smiling. He ceased his attack long enough to slide his hand between her legs, and she moaned like a whore, grinding herself against him. He played her for long seconds, and I saw his fingers disappear inside her, four of them. Four. I sucked in breath at the sight. More words in her ear, then she was nodding. A smile. Deep breaths, her chest rising and falling in anticipation of something. He retreated once again behind the drapes. I strained for sight of him.
“Here we go,” Cara breathed again.
When Masque returned, he came armed. A collection of implements like the ones I’d seen in Raven’s room. I recognised some of them, a flogger and a horse whip, and some wooden paddles that looked as thick as chopping boards. And a cane, a long, thick cane with a leather handle.
“The cane’s his favourite,” Cara murmured. “I can’t take it though, hurts too much.”
He brandished a flogger with long suede tails and knotted ends, flicking her back gently before starting up his momentum, big arcs over and over, building up speed until they connected. She moaned at the first hit, but relaxed into it, adjusting her weight to steady herself. I heard the swish as the tails hit, over and over. Sometimes they’d curl around her body to lash at the soft skin on her ribcage. She’d jerk then and hiss out all her breath. She began to rock in her chains, losing herself in the rhythm. She cried out as he changed target, whipping the flogger hard between her legs to bite at her pussy. She squealed when he caught her clit, clenching her legs tight against the assault.
He yanked her head back by her hair, his mouth at her ear. I caught his low bark, the most dangerous sound I’d ever heard.
“Your cunt is mine, Violet. Mine. Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.”
Her name ricocheted around my brain. Violet. She spread her legs wide again.
“I’m sorry, Master, I’m sorry.”
“Good girl.”
Another direct hit and this time she squealed like a banshee but didn’t clench. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the chains above her head, taking everything he dished out. He landed a particularly nasty blow and she really wailed, gulping in air like a fish as her knees trembled underneath her. Still she didn’t shield herself from him.
I felt heady, dizzy, reeling at both the scene before me and the pulse between my thighs. My hands felt clammy. I felt clammy.
Finally he stepped forward enough to soothe her with his fingers. She wheezed at his touch, murmuring words I couldn’t decipher. He asked her a question and she nodded.
“Please, Master. Please.”
He buried his fingers inside and this time he ploughed her rough. She loved it, moaning for more as he stretched her open, and moaning harder still as his other hand strummed her clit at the same time. He stopped as she began to peak, and she wailed out a groan of disappointment.
“Tears first, Violet,” he barked. “Cry for me.”
My stomach turned over itself, and there underneath the nerves was a primal need I’d buried for years. I checked either side to find both Raven and Cara engrossed by the show, and then, slowly and ever so quietly, I slid my hand between my thighs.
***
James
The beast raged, twisting through my muscles. It bayed for tears, and beautiful, beautiful pain. It bayed for Violet’s broken flesh. She strained her head as I swished the cane, eyes wide with anticipation, and fear. A gorgeous
Masque upped the ante on stage, brutalising Red’s swollen breasts. He slapped them hard, and loud. Hard enough to make Red whimper. She jerked under his assault, her head lolling back in pain, but she was smiling. He ceased his attack long enough to slide his hand between her legs, and she moaned like a whore, grinding herself against him. He played her for long seconds, and I saw his fingers disappear inside her, four of them. Four. I sucked in breath at the sight. More words in her ear, then she was nodding. A smile. Deep breaths, her chest rising and falling in anticipation of something. He retreated once again behind the drapes. I strained for sight of him.
“Here we go,” Cara breathed again.
When Masque returned, he came armed. A collection of implements like the ones I’d seen in Raven’s room. I recognised some of them, a flogger and a horse whip, and some wooden paddles that looked as thick as chopping boards. And a cane, a long, thick cane with a leather handle.
“The cane’s his favourite,” Cara murmured. “I can’t take it though, hurts too much.”
He brandished a flogger with long suede tails and knotted ends, flicking her back gently before starting up his momentum, big arcs over and over, building up speed until they connected. She moaned at the first hit, but relaxed into it, adjusting her weight to steady herself. I heard the swish as the tails hit, over and over. Sometimes they’d curl around her body to lash at the soft skin on her ribcage. She’d jerk then and hiss out all her breath. She began to rock in her chains, losing herself in the rhythm. She cried out as he changed target, whipping the flogger hard between her legs to bite at her pussy. She squealed when he caught her clit, clenching her legs tight against the assault.
He yanked her head back by her hair, his mouth at her ear. I caught his low bark, the most dangerous sound I’d ever heard.
“Your cunt is mine, Violet. Mine. Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.”
Her name ricocheted around my brain. Violet. She spread her legs wide again.
“I’m sorry, Master, I’m sorry.”
“Good girl.”
Another direct hit and this time she squealed like a banshee but didn’t clench. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the chains above her head, taking everything he dished out. He landed a particularly nasty blow and she really wailed, gulping in air like a fish as her knees trembled underneath her. Still she didn’t shield herself from him.
I felt heady, dizzy, reeling at both the scene before me and the pulse between my thighs. My hands felt clammy. I felt clammy.
Finally he stepped forward enough to soothe her with his fingers. She wheezed at his touch, murmuring words I couldn’t decipher. He asked her a question and she nodded.
“Please, Master. Please.”
He buried his fingers inside and this time he ploughed her rough. She loved it, moaning for more as he stretched her open, and moaning harder still as his other hand strummed her clit at the same time. He stopped as she began to peak, and she wailed out a groan of disappointment.
“Tears first, Violet,” he barked. “Cry for me.”
My stomach turned over itself, and there underneath the nerves was a primal need I’d buried for years. I checked either side to find both Raven and Cara engrossed by the show, and then, slowly and ever so quietly, I slid my hand between my thighs.
***
James
The beast raged, twisting through my muscles. It bayed for tears, and beautiful, beautiful pain. It bayed for Violet’s broken flesh. She strained her head as I swished the cane, eyes wide with anticipation, and fear. A gorgeous
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