a harder thud hit my backside. Then there were two, two floggers striking me over and over as his fingers caressed me, transforming the pain into intense pleasure. I was free.
“How are you doing?” Nathaniel asked in a whisper.
“Green,” I managed to get out. “Green, Master. Don’t. Stop.”
He chuckled. “A little more then.”
“Thank you. Thank you,” I replied, but wasn’t sure he heard.
The flogger tails landed faster and harder and carried me along on a pleasure-filled high unlike any I could remember experiencing before. And he was with me the entire time, his strength supporting me, his adoration protecting me.
“Beautiful,” an unknown voice said.
“Amazing,” said another.
“Stunning,” said a third.
But it was the voice I loved that I listened for and finally heard.
“Mine.”
I could tell the minute he started bringing me down, carrying me slowly off the mountain peak I’d been on. And though I wanted to protest, I forced myself to remember that he knew best and that I had to trust him. I doubted our afternoon was over. Something told me he wouldn’t be going without his own climax today.
“Are you with me?” Nathaniel asked.
“Yes, Master.” I was still highly aroused, but the floaty feeling I’d had while he flogged me was wearing off.
He bent down to unbuckle my ankles from the spreader bar, massaging my legs as he did. Then he released my arms from whatever they were attached to, but left them tied together in front of me.
“I’m going to take you to the couch,” he said, gently rubbing my shoulders. “Are you able to walk?”
I stretched each leg. “Yes, Master.”
I’d thought the men were sitting on the couch, but I didn’t feel their presence when he led me to the plush sofa and told me to sit down. I listened, but didn’t hear any movement.
“You’re wondering if they’re still here,” Nathaniel whispered. “Or maybe you’re thinking you imagined the entire thing and they were never here to begin with.”
I’d long ago learned he could nearly read my mind, so it didn’t surprise me like it used to when he voiced what I was thinking. But it hadn’t occurred to me I might have imagined them. I hadn’t done that, had I? They had been here. I’d heard them.
“Maybe they’re here and they’re just being quiet because they’re concentrating on you. Part your lips.”
I obeyed and he put a finger up to my mouth, tracing my lips but not having me suck his finger.
“Maybe they’re watching and imagining this is their finger touching you. Better yet, it’s their cock and you’re getting ready to show them what a good cocksucker you are.”
My heart pounded and he continued to oh-so-easily tease my lips. “Does it make you wet thinking about how aroused you’re making them? You like it when people watch you. Don’t you, you naughty girl?”
It did. Fuck. It got me off.
His hands left me briefly and there was again nothing but silence until I heard him behind me.
“Let’s say the three gentlemen are, in fact, still here. Show them how wet you are thinking about them watching. Knowing they’re getting hard just at the sight of you.”
Still no sound from anyone other than Nathaniel.
He slapped my thigh. “Spread them. Now.”
I moved my legs apart, but since my hands were still tied in front of me, I don’t think they saw much.
“How forgetful of me,” he said. “Let me take care of that.” And with a snip of his scissors, my hands were free. “I want your hands on your knees. Keep your legs spread.”
I felt wanton and wild, but I did as he asked.
“Wider.”
Apparently, it felt like they were wider than they actually were. I moved my knees apart until my position felt obscene.
“That’ll do. Stay still,” he said. “Gentlemen, how about some drinks?”
There was a general murmur and clinking of ice in glasses. I expected Nathaniel to say something to me, but instead I was simply ignored. Or at least it felt that way. The men in the room started chatting in voices so low I couldn’t make out their words.
I stayed in position and waited.
And they talked. And talked. And talked.
Eventually my arms grew tired and my legs ached. And still they ignored me. It was as if I wasn’t even in the room.
Someone put more ice in their glass. I felt like pouting. What point was there in being naked and blindfolded if I was going to be ignored? I briefly considered taking a nap. After all, who would know? I had a blindfold on.
“I think someone’s feeling neglected,” Nathaniel said and I jerked at the surprise of being addressed.
I heard him walk toward me. Something wet was placed on my upper right thigh.
“Don’t let the glass fall,” he said and walked away.
“Mind if I put my glass down?” the unknown person asked.
“Go ahead,” Nathaniel said. “Her other thigh looks bare. It’d be nice for it to be symmetrical.”
There was a snort of laughter from another man and I felt another glass on my left thigh.
“Don’t let that fall, girl,” the unknown voice said. His voice was smooth and seductive. “Though it would interesting to see what your Master would do.”
He didn’t touch any part of me, but I shivered at his words and immediately regretted it. The glasses wobbled, but didn’t fall.
“Now maybe you won’t zone out while we finish our discussion,” Nathaniel said.
Holy shit! They were going to keep talking? What started out as a hot scene had grown tiresome and boring. I was naked in front of a group of men and instead of doing naughty things to me, they were using me as a makeshift coffee table.
I wondered what my blog readers would think of this.
Could I safeword out of boredom?
“Well, Abigail,” Nathaniel said after what felt like hours later. “I hope you enjoyed your little rest. It’s time for the fun to really begin.”
I snorted.
I didn’t mean to snort; it just kind of came out. I blamed it on the time I’d spent on the couch doing nothing but balancing glasses on my thighs. Unfortunately, it did come out and it wasn’t soft. One of the men actually stifled a laugh.
“Was that a snort, Abigail?” Nathaniel asked.
It was probably a rhetorical question. After all, it really didn’t sound like anything other than a snort and even if I tried to pass it off as something else, there were three men other than Nathaniel in the room and they’d certainly heard it.
“Yes, Master. It was a snort.”
“Would you care to explain why you snorted?”
“Well, I was sitting here on the couch, trying to be good and not let the glasses fall and after a while I just got bored. Then I tried to imagine what I’d write on the blog about the last hour. I imagined an entry I would call, I was a coffee table. Probably wouldn’t get a lot of hits. Seriously, what’s hot about a coffee table?”
“I assume you’re getting to the part soon where you snorted instead of all this babbling?” he said.
“Right, the snort. It was just hearing you say it was time for the fun to begin. I thought, ‘Hell, anything would be more fun than this.’”
“Is that all?”
“I may have also thought, ‘About damn time.’”
“I see,” he said. “So I was boring you?”
At that moment I realized I’d stepped in over my head. “You weren’t boring me, Master. It was the coffee table part.”
“Nice of you to finally call me ‘Master.’ Now let me get this straight: you snorted not because I was boring you, but because what I chose to have you do was boring?”
“And it’d make a bad blog post,” I hastened to add so he’d see it wasn’t all me.
“Right. No one wants to read about a coffee table.”
In the silence that followe
d, the air shifted around me as he came to stand before me. He put one hand lightly around my neck. Nothing restrictive; it was just there.
His voice was cold. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I don’t give a fuck what would make a good blog post. I do what I do because I want to, not because of what makes your readers happy. The day our relationship becomes all about your blog is the day the blog and the job stop. Understand?”
I cringed at the way it sounded coming from his point of view. My heart pounded in my throat. He probably felt it. “Yes, Master.”
“As for being bored, I thought you’d already learned this lesson, but apparently you haven’t.” He moved his hand. “Would you gentlemen be so kind as to tell my submissive what we were discussing over drinks?”
The unknown man coughed. “I mentioned how lovely you were sitting on the couch. The light from the window crossing your body right below your breasts. Would be a gorgeous photo.”
“I told your Master how impressed I was that you remained so still,” Jeff said. “Then I suggested he fondle those perky tits to see if he could make you drop a glass.”
That left the man Nathaniel called S. “I was a bit more explicit than these two,” he said. “I told your Master he should fuck you while you struggled to keep the glasses in place. See if you can be still with a cock plundering your pussy.”
“Thank you,” Nathaniel said. “Were any of you bored at all watching Abigail on the couch?”
They all three replied negatively.
“So you see, Abigail,” Nathaniel said. “While you may have been bored acting like our table, we were having a drink and enjoying the sight of you. It pleases me to show you off and if I decide to have you be a coffee table for everyone to enjoy, what should your mind-set be?”
“That I am here for my Master’s pleasure.”
“Yes, and sometimes that doesn’t mean pleasure for you. Sometimes it means being a coffee table. But you do it anyway because that is what pleases me.”
“I understand, Master.”
“That might well be the case, but just to make sure, no release for you today.”
He took his glass from my leg. “Take the other one and offer it to S.”
I held up the glass, and S came over and took it. “Too damn bad about no releasing. I was looking forward to watching you come. Maybe another time.”
I no longer felt bored. I felt disappointed. Disappointed in myself for not having the right mind frame. For putting my blog first.
“On your knees in the middle of the room,” Nathaniel said. “I’ll direct you verbally and I want you to crawl.”
Ever so slowly, I made it down off the couch and following Nathaniel’s commands made it to where he wanted me. It had to be one of the most ungraceful crawls ever, but I did it because he’d asked me to. Once in place, I knelt with my head down.
I heard a zipper being unzipped in front of me. Even though I knew it wouldn’t be anyone else, the thought crossed my mind it could be.
“I’m taking my cock out, Abigail.”
I opened my mouth, ready to have him inside me and eager to please him.
“Not today. That mouth doesn’t deserve my cock in it. Your pussy doesn’t either.”
I closed my mouth and blinked back tears under the blindfold.
“Straighten your spine and lace your hands behind your back. Keep your head up.”
Doing so pushed my chest forward. Obviously his intention.
“What do you think, gentlemen?” he asked. “Have you ever seen anything hotter than a submissive bowing before her Master’s cock?”
“Mark her tits,” S said and the other men cheered.
“I’m stroking my cock, Abigail,” Nathaniel said. “It’s getting so hard. Just think, if you had behaved, I wouldn’t have to use my hands. I’d be pumping my dick in and out of you. Fucking you nice and hard, just the way we both like.” He groaned. “I’m stroking it faster. Faster.”
I loved the sight of him masturbating and he wasn’t even going to let me enjoy that. I listened as hard as I could, taking in his breathing as it grew shorter and shorter. I imagined his hands working his erection while listening to the sounds of flesh against flesh.
“They’re all watching,” he panted out. “Looking at you kneeling on the floor, ready to take my release.” He groaned again. “Are you bored now? Think your readers want to hear about you with your breasts pushed out, silently begging for your Master to mark them? I marked them earlier with the crop. Now I’m going to mark them with my release.”
I held as still as possible. I couldn’t see anything, but I could picture it vividly in my head. I grew wet between my thighs, but I did my best to ignore it.
This isn’t about me. This isn’t about me. I am here for my Master and I take pleasure only if he allows.
“Fuck,” he ground out. “Here it comes. All over those gorgeous tits.”
I didn’t move as he released on me. I only wished I wasn’t blindfolded so I could see. This wasn’t something he did often, but I always got a secret thrill out of it when he did. It felt so primitive. So raw. I loved the feel of his pleasure on me.
“So damn hot,” he said. “On your knees. Wearing my collar. Decorated with my release.”
He zipped himself back up and there was rustling around me as the other men started to chat among themselves.
Nathaniel stroked my head. “Stay where you are.”
It wasn’t the same as acting like a table. Instead I felt sort of like a statue. Unmoving. In place for the amusement of others. After Nathaniel’s commentary on my thoughts while on the couch, I revised my thinking while I knelt on the floor.
I wasn’t just a statue. I was Nathaniel’s statue and I was an object of desire. Especially when I was marked by him the way I was. I held still while the men did whatever it was they were doing. I steered my focus away from my knees when they began to ache and focused on being and doing what Nathaniel wanted.
“I have to leave now, Pretty Abby,” the unknown man with the smooth voice said. “But thanks to this afternoon, you’ll be joining me in my fantasies tonight.”
He didn’t touch me, but his words washed over me like a sensual caress. I bet he could drive submissives wild with that seductive voice. It hit me then. I had no idea what he looked like.
“Thank you, Nathaniel,” he said. “I’ll confirm everything tomorrow with my admin, but it all looks good from my end.”
“Thank you, DeVaan,” Nathaniel replied and I heard the two walk to the door.
That left the other two men still in the room. The familiar one and Jeff.
They both walked up behind me at the same time.
“A pleasure as always,” the familiar one said. “Though a bit different than last time.”
It took me only a few seconds to place the voice as being Simon’s. The first thought that entered my head was, “What was he doing in Delaware?” That was quickly followed by my surprise at not recognizing him immediately. I wondered what he thought about taking part in the fantasy I had talked about at lunch a few months ago.
“Why don’t you go freshen up in the bathroom,” Nathaniel said as soon as everyone had left.
That sounded like a wonderful idea, so I took my time with my shower and blowing my hair dry. While I’d been bathing, he’d hung a white fluffy robe on the door hook. I slipped it on, sighing at its softness.
I opened the door and gasped.
“Master.”
He’d placed lit candles on every flat available surface and put on soft piano music. Since the walls were painted a simple off-white, everything looked and felt soft and inviting. In the middle of the room was a massage table covered with thick warm towels. Nathaniel stood beside it, holding out his hand.