arse, Sir?” a woman said.
The sound of a sharp, stinging slap followed, then another, and another until there were too many to keep track of. The woman keened, wailing out her release, and I opened my eyes expecting to see nothing but gray again. I was assaulted with a semi-circle of people around us, cocks and tits out, hands wielding whips, nipples being pinched severely. Eyes were closed, cum was spewing, cunt juices glistening, all these things smacking into me and sending me completely over the edge.
Boldly, I dragged the top of my dress down until my breasts were free, and stared at Master Red. I’d broken one of our rules by doing that, but God, I wanted my nipples seen to.
He looked up, paused in his sucking, and said, “Invite.”
Was he daring me to say roses?
I was too far gone to even think of that now. Master Red went back to my cunt, licking, ramming his fingers into my hole, shunting me up the wall every time he pushed in. I stared around at those watching, and a man took one step forward to place a hand on Master Red’s shoulder.
My Master nodded at him, then the Dom looked at me. He tilted his head, and I nodded, too, shocked that I had, yet at the same time not caring who touched my nipples so long as someone did.
“Yes, Sir, please…” I said to him.
He moved to my side and took one nipple between finger and thumb. Squeezed—and kept squeezing until the pain in my clit was just a distant memory. I pushed into his hand, asking for more, and he twisted at the same time Master Red nipped my clit with his teeth.
I was lost.
I closed my eyes, let them do whatever they would, and relaxed, the pleasure having its wicked way with no resistance from me. I bucked, hips jerking spasmodically, free breast bouncing. The Dom switched his attention to my other nipple, treating it to the same, then bent his head to the one he’d abandoned.
He bit.
With two of my most sensitive parts being nuzzled, the pleasure and pain coming from separate locations at the same time threw me for a loop. I sagged, Master Red putting more pressure on my stomach to hold me up. I stared down at him as he stared up at me, and he spoke, loud and clear with his eyes.
He loved me. Was proud of me. I’d gone to the next level without any trouble. We’d become the show, no longer just voyeurs. I’d trusted him—and those watching—and as I shifted my gaze from him to them, I felt a sense of belonging. Of acceptance. I had watched these people give their playtime freely, had taken a part of their lives and stored it in my head. Their gift had now been returned, and as my orgasm waned, as the men biting me eased off on my nipple and clit, I let out a long, low moan.
The Dom stepped away with a nod, and the semi-circle dispersed. Master Red rose, taking me in his arms while I rested my cheek on his chest and closed my eyes. My whole body felt boneless, those bones replaced with swarms of undulating calm, making me floaty and lightheaded.
“She said you were there,” Master red whispered, stroking my hair. “But you weren’t.”
“No, Sir. Nearly, though.”
“You look different when you’re in subspace. You knew exactly what was going on. I’m so proud of you.”
“I know, Sir. But I’m… I need to sit down.”
He let me go, lowered my dress to cover my cunt then lifted the top so my breasts were no longer on show. He paused, staring down at my chest, and I had the awful feeling he was about to rebuke me. I steeled myself for it, prepared to be told there was a punishment waiting in my future.
Instead, he cupped my face, looked into my eyes, and I nodded to let him know I was okay. He guided me to an empty sofa and sat, tugging me down so I was on his lap. I snuggled against him, utterly exhausted of body but my mind pin-sharp and alert. Again he stroked my hair, and we sat without talking, me taking in our surroundings. I found, when my gaze landed on people I’d seen in the semicircle, that I wasn’t