Her Secret Betrayal (10 page)

The door swung open and gently Marcus
prodded me inside.

____________

A gold brocade bed held court on one side of
the room, and a menagerie of playthings filled the other. I
recognized some from research, but most were unknown to me. They
were objects of bondage, discipline, submission, domination,
pleasure, pain, all draped in soft velvets and silks, comfort and
luxury juxtaposed on top of it.

It was a big room, half round, with a door
near the bed and another on the far wall from the one we’d entered
through. Beside that door was a window like the ones we’d passed in
the other hallway, though this one was dark.

And we weren’t alone. A big man like a
machine sat on the end of the bed, knees spread, elbows resting on
his knees. Shirtless. Jeans. Tattoos ringed his biceps and
decorated his lower stomach. Almost seven feet tall, or maybe
that’s how he felt to me. Biceps bigger than Marcus’s or Sean’s.
Masked, like Zorro, and I had a strange sensation to giggle, though
nothing was particularly funny about him.

Conrad.

Seeing him, I took a step back and ran into
Marcus’s chest. My curiosity cave way to fear and I didn’t think I
could go through with this after all.

“You can leave if you want, but I’ll take
restaurant, Kara.” Marcus whispered against my ear, his mouth warm
and a little wet. I could feel the brace of his erection through
his pants pressed to my thin dress. I thought I sensed a vibration
of anticipation in his grip.

He took my chin and pulled my face to him.
Another hand wrapped around my hip to rest against my stomach.

“You’ll enjoy this pet. Let yourself enjoy
this.”

Sean. I was doing this for Sean.

Marcus let go and left me standing in front
of the closed door. He walked over to a chair near the door and sat
down, rested his arms along the top of the chair arms like an
emperor - just like Sean in the library, and the image warred in my
thoughts. I had to look away.

Coincidence?

Conrad stood and walked towards me. He stood
like a wall, like an executioner as he approached me, circled me. I
could feel his eyes sink all along me, saw his fists tighten like
mallets. My heart started racing in my chest and I tried to get a
grip on what was actually happening here. Would he hurt me? Marcus
liked pain and punishment but letting this guy just hurt me seemed
out of character and anyway, he’d said this was my fantasy too.

What fantasies had I told him about? I
couldn’t think. This didn’t feel like one of mine, but then, it
also didn’t repulse me. I’d never told Marcus I wanted to be with
two men before, I knew that.

Conrad came to stand behind me and very
suddenly he took hold of my hip in one big hand. I gasped and
sucked in a breath as the other grasped the tiny silver tab at the
back of my dress. He held me slightly bent forward just off center
as he lowered the zipper one tooth at a time, agonizingly slow,
each tooth breaking apart noisily as he traveled it down my body.
He kept the zipper pressed against my skin so I felt it give way,
the cold metal, all the way down to the small of my back.

When he stepped away, letting me go as
roughly as he’d taken me, the dress fell effortlessly into a puddle
around my feet.

Silently the big man tucked his fingers in
the ribbon corseted up my back and tugged, tugged, tugged, as each
loop was released. I had to grab the front of the bustier and hold
on as he yanked the ribbon free. Each motion felt violent, and
inside my emotions roared. My lovers never treated me like this,
there was too much familiarity and love. At the hands of this
stranger I was being tossed and tucked and pulled like a stitched
doll, careless and a little rough. Like he wasn’t afraid to break
me.

And that…I didn’t want him to stop.

That was the fantasy. A real Dom with no
attachments to my heart, treating me in a way I couldn’t be treated
by Sean or Marcus.

When the ribbon let go its final loop and
fluttered beautifully to my feet, my knees were shaking and my sex
betrayed me with the moisture and slickness I already felt
there.

With my thoughts racing, trying to figure
out what was too far and just enough before it all got out of
control, he grabbed the bustier out of my hands and threw it to the
ground. I yelped and raised my hands to cover me, but he swatted my
hands away and stalked towards me. I backed up, not knowing what
else to do, and he followed step for step.

When my back hit the door he was on me,
grabbed me around the waist and dragged my hips into his. He
fingered the strips that barely made up my panties with one hand,
the other fell on the heavy fall of my breast. He cupped it and
mashed it roughly in his big paws. I gazed up at his masked face
into amber eyes that I found surprisingly soft and heavy with
want.

Those soft eyes and rough hands…I understood
what Marcus meant very suddenly, which filled me with shame and
longing. Those eyes and those hands…I wanted to obey. I wanted them
to take what they wanted from me and force me to obey.

Conrad ran his hands down my arms to my
wrists and held them out, palm up. His eyes told me to hold them
still and I did while one hand went into his pocket and produced a
length of rope. He wound them around my wrists, not too tight but
enough to hold them wrists together like a prisoner. Once I was
bound he hooked the rope and led me with it like a leash across the
room to one of the pieces of furniture opposite the bed. I didn’t
recognize it, shaped somewhat like a sawhorse but bigger, wider,
and padded. He pulled a bench out from beneath it and pushed me to
sit down on it faced away from him. I faced Marcus, watched him
watching me with such satisfaction in his pretty face. I hated him.
But I didn’t hate this.

Behind me, the big man took my long blonde
hair into his hands. I felt him separate the hair between his
fingers and to my surprise, began braiding it. His touch was
gentle, section after section he worked until he’d created a thick
blonde rope. He tied it off and pulled me to my feet with his hands
under my armpits. Now I really felt like his doll. I wondered if
that was why he didn’t talk to me. There was no point. Dolls didn’t
talk back.

Then he bent me forward across the padded
sawhorse that fit beneath my chest. He hooked my wrists around a
wooden peg directly in front of me so that I created a straight
line from fingertips to tailbone, then a straight line from
tailbone to toes.

“You remember your safeword?” Marcus
murmured. He touched his mouth with his hand. I realized in this
position I had no option but to watch Marcus watching this happen
to me. I didn’t want to see his pleasure and satisfaction. Didn’t
want him to see mine.

When I didn’t answer him, a hand came down
across my ass and drove the beads into my soft flesh, with such
strength I lurched forward and opened my mouth to scream but
nothing came out.

“That means
answer me
,” Marcus
hissed, the first shred of emotion other than blank curiosity I’d
seen since we started.

“Yes,” I gasped when I found my voice,
though it came out as only a little more than a wheezing breath.
“Yes, I remember.”

“Good. You might needed.” He nodded his
approval to Conrad who must have been standing behind me. Marcus
leaned back in his chair, hand by his mouth, erection so obvious it
was obscene. I closed my eyes.

The big man lumbered up behind me, swatted
the sides of my bottom again, but not hard, still it drove the
beads into my flesh where I was sure they’d be bruised before the
end of the night. When he pushed his jeans into the barely covered
cleft between legs, a shudder of foreboding passed through me. If
the bulge in his jeans was to be believed, his penis was as big as
the rest of him. I buried my face between my outstretched elbows so
Marcus wouldn’t see the trepedition there.

Conrad ground his erection into my body, let
me know just what he thought of me and something about that
realization made me moan softly into the leather bench I was spread
out across. He didn’t know me like Marcus and Sean, only knew my
body, my place here, and I had turned him on.
Me.
Me and my
big hips and big thighs and large breasts. That knowledge made me
do something shameless - I pushed back against him.

This surprised the big Dom and he let out a
hiss of breath, the first sound he’d made since I walked in. For
some reason this pleased me more than it should and I did it again.
He came down over me then, placed one fist on the bench beside my
head, the other wrapped across my mouth. My nostrils flared as he
pulled my head back from where I hid my face and he buried his
mouth against the crook of my neck. The scratch of his leather mask
scrubbed across my cheek, but it didn’t slow his mouth from
exploring my throat and shoulder, the nape of my neck. He nipped
and bit me, licked and kissed me, all the while he humped his
erection into my cleft, ground my thin panties between my lips and
imprinted the beads into my plump flesh.

I closed my eyes and got lost in the
sensation of this hard stranger showing me a tiny amount of
affection, even if it was tempered with sharp bites and sucks that
brought blood harshly to the surface of my skin. Not the hickies of
clumsy teenagers. These were meant to mark.

There was something more erotic about him
grinding into me even though clothes separated our bodies than if
he’d stripped me down and entered me. This went on for many
minutes, him humping me and me rounding into him until I thought I
was going to come from the friction and the eroticism of his
desperate want. I’d never felt anything like it.

“That’s enough, get on with it.” Marcus
looked annoyed. Good.

Conrad bit down on my shoulder, not hard
enough to break skin but enough to leave marks and I could feel him
looking at Marcus as he defied him. The hand not around my mouth
flexed and sunk between us to rub the fabric over my lips, over my
swollen clit. He rocked his fat finger back and forth while I lost
comprehension. My eyes rolled back and he might have been thrusting
inside me for as amazing as it felt. When I was trembling, ready to
come, he abruptly released me and stepped back.

Denied, I collapsed against the bench and
gasped for breath, let me body shake from its near fulfillment.
Behind me I could hear the man panting, could almost feel his heart
racing. I’d done that.

Me. The submissive controlling the master.
The truth of our power exchange.

“The whip? No, I have a better idea.” My
eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice and the word whip,
which we’d only played with once and I didn’t like. Instead Marcus
unfastened his leather belt, pulled it free as he watched me, and
handed it to Conrad, who was still breathing hard from nearly
taking me moments before, less than ten minutes after we’d walked
through the door. “She likes this.”

She likes this.

“What?” I whispered. “No…”

Conrad must have been annoyed at my ability
to manipulate him, because he didn’t waste any time. Once he had my
instrument of punishment he sunk his meaty fingers between my
underwear and skin and roughly tore them from my body. Beads rained
down across the wooden floor, scattering in every direction. The
sound of the tinkling glass as they rained down was the most
violent sound in the world.

Then he was taking the leather to my bottom
without warm up. The strikes weren’t easy. Marcus usually primed me
with the flogger first before graduating to the real painful toys,
but Conrad didn’t bother. I yelped each time he brought the coiled
leather down across my skin, blood flushing my cheeks. The straps
of heat where they fell set my body on fire and the orgasm he’d
nearly brought before started building again. I did like this, but
I hated admitting it. I cried out no and stop pitifully, but
neither did he slow or stop. Marcus grinned slowly as he watched me
shudder and jerk, roll my hips and try to get away from the
strikes, to no avail.

“Safeword, pet, and it’ll all stop.” He
leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees. “But we both know
you don’t want it to stop.”

I turned my face away so he wouldn’t see my
shame and my lust as I took the blows. The heat, now turning to
pain, then pleasure, now pain, then pleasure erupted with each new
mark the leather left across my skin. I squeezed my eyes, begged
him to stop, but I didn’t safeword and we knew my words were
meaningless. They were meant to help me get control of my feelings,
but not to make them go away. My ineffectual way of holding control
these men were going to take from me, one way or the other.

The next strike didn’t come and Conrad
dropped the belt on the floor. He moved away and took his body heat
with him. I heard him open a drawer, select a toy, and return to
me. I was shocked by how much I missed his body heat and needed it
against my body.

Conrad pushed his hand between my legs and
lowered it between my buttocks
downdowndown
into the humid
triangle where my shame became manifest, sticky, sopping. His thumb
stayed circling near my anus while his fingers sank all four into
the wet folds. He molested my sex plainly, cravenly, kneading and
pushing with no elegance or finesse.

He kept it up until my hips responded of
their own accord and pushed into his hands, eager to get off, and I
let out a gasping sob into the crook of my arm because god, oh god
I wanted to come. I wanted this stranger, this master, to make me
come all over his hand.

And then…then a very different voice filled
my ears. A laughing, sweet voice.
I think not normal is pretty
normal.

The big thumb, lubricated from between my
legs, pressed a half inch into my forbidden hole, skewered me in
his large hand in both places and I came bucking against him,
crying out, biting the leather, grinding my breasts into the bench
frantically. The pleasure paralyzed me, jolt after electric jolt
from my sex to my eyes and everywhere in between. The climax sent
me up onto my toes, wanton, shameless, blissed out on pleasure like
a drug and I just kept going and he showed no signs of
stopping.