Masters of the Shadowlands 8 - If only (6 page)

Unfortunately, Master Z would know that getting off with a machine wouldn’t be much of a punishment for Sally. “Hey. What did Master Z choose to do to me? A whipping?”

Uzuri’s gentle brown eyes filled with sympathy. “You might like that better.” The trainee held her hand out.

Sally winced as Uzuri pulled her up. Her knees hurt like hell. She stretched and worked the kinks out, wishing she could just go home. At one time, she’d have been excited and scared about what might happen. Now…now her punishment was just something to suffer through.

She had a feeling she was nearing the end of her time as a trainee. The Shadowlands Masters had been almost the only ones who could give her what she needed—who were dominating enough to compel her surrender. Now they all had their own submissives, and any hope Sally had was gone.

Of course, the Feds weren’t attached. Doubtful they’d ever be, considering what the other submissives had said. Players. She huffed a miserable laugh. At least they were new enough that Master Z wouldn’t use them to punish her.

She pulled on her short, stretchy minidress—she hadn’t had the enthusiasm to come up with flashier attire—and followed Uzuri into the hallway.

Uzuri stopped at the medical room.

Surprised, Sally bumped into her. “Here?”

The beads in Uzuri’s braids clattered softly as she nodded. “Good luck.”

This really didn’t look good. There was already a crowd in front of the oversize window into the room. And the window had been opened so everyone could hear. Sally pushed her way through and stopped two feet inside the room. She felt the Masters’ eyes even before she saw them.
No. No no no
. It wasn’t fair.

Vance and Galen were waiting for her.

She took a step back.

Galen shook his head and held out his hand. “Come here, trainee.” His gaze was…direct. Firm. But she saw sympathy in his expression.

However, Vance’s eyes held the warmth of a frozen lake. He’d never looked at her like that, and the loss hurt her inside. “I’d thought better of you,” he said.

She pulled in a miserable breath, wanting to run. Knowing she wouldn’t. A trainee knew the rules. She’d lied to a Dom; no matter what nasty punishment the Feds’d planned, she deserved it.

Her feet took her forward, and she set her wrist in Galen’s grasp.

Palm under her chin, he studied her face with a frown. “I don’t know what’s bothering you, but you should’ve discussed it with your Dom. Or refused the scene. Lying—verbally or physically—isn’t permitted.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Somehow his words—no matter how soft—were like a slap in the face. He pulled her dress over her head, then patted the table. “Put your bare ass here.”

I don’t want to
. With a lowered gaze, she climbed onto the table. Dammit, she did scenes in public all the time. She liked the thrill of being observed, of taking what a Dom had to give. And at the Shadowlands, she didn’t worry about her safety. So why was facing this so difficult tonight?

“Head in the game,” Vance said, his rumbling baritone as authoritative as Galen’s resonant voice. “Lie on your back.”

She complied, and he positioned her with her butt at the edge of the table, then set her feet into the stirrups and strapped her legs to the supports.

Vance spread the leg rests widely apart, exposing her pussy, then lifted the stirrups until her pelvis tilted upward. Undoubtedly wanting her asshole available.

She glanced nervously at the tray tables. No needles. Not even the urethral dilators. Thank God for that. She’d far rather be whipped than punctured or dilated. But no floggers or whips or canes were visible. What did they plan?

Vance tightened a strap over her waist, lifted the head of the table slightly, and clipped her wrist cuffs to the top. He tied an elastic satin blindfold behind her head and then shoved it up onto her forehead. Not using it yet, but…obviously he planned to.

Galen addressed the viewers through the window. “As you undoubtedly know, Master Z asked us to give a short talk on how to tell if a female fakes her orgasm. I see no need for any submissives to be present, so please have them wait for you elsewhere or chain them in the subbie section.”

Several submissives, including Rainie and Jessica, left. A couple of Doms led their collared slaves away. Most of the remaining observers were male with a sprinkling of Dommes.

Sally felt a sinking in her stomach. There was only one reason they’d have strapped her to this table.

“Sally, you are going to show them how a submissive fakes an orgasm.”

What kind of a punishment is that?
A flare of anger bit into her. “My pleasure. It’s not as if fooling a Dom is difficult.”
You asshole.

Galen actually grinned. “So you fooled everyone?”

“Well, yeah. Sure, Master Z could tell, but others…?” Her shrug lost its effectiveness with her arms over her head.

“Actually, pet, Master Galen and Master Vance noticed your dishonesty even before I did,” Master Z said from the doorway. His arms were crossed over his chest, his gaze less disapproving than disappointed, and she felt tears sting her eyes. “Thank you, gentlemen, for giving up your time to teach this class,” he said.

Murmured thanks came from the other Doms.

Vance’s easy nod of acknowledgment was annoying. Damn Feds. Like they were all knowing and all powerful? What would they do if she made their scene into a farce? A
When Harry Met Sally
hammed-up orgasm.
Oh yeah
. Her lips curved.

Galen moved into Sally’s line of vision. “Trainee. If your performance isn’t convincing, you’ll get another chance. But before then, we’ll use the toys in the drawers to motivate you. Is my meaning clear?”

The
meaning
made her impulse shrivel into a tiny screaming ball. The equipment in the medical room drawers was ghastly—needles and urethral sounds and enema kits. The bastard must have noticed her anxious look at the instrument trays. Then again, he was good at screwing with a submissive’s mind. “Yes,”
you fucking
, “Sir.”

“Good.” Galen ran one finger over her cheek, gently enough to surprise her. “Oddly, we don’t enjoy humiliating submissives, even for punishment. I’m sorry you earned this, pet. We’d hoped for a different kind of play this evening.”

Her lips trembled. The sympathy in his low voice was far more difficult to take than his uncompromising tone.

He took a step back, his features turning unreadable again. “For realism, we’ll play with you briefly. Your job is to pretend excitement—whether you are or not. When you see me say, ‘Now,’ show everyone how wonderfully you can fake arousal and an orgasm.”

See
him say? That didn’t make—

Vance put noise-canceling earphones over her head. The white noise they emitted drowned out everything.

Galen turned away from her and spoke to the audience.

She couldn’t hear a word he said. And she began to feel like…an object. A nothing.

This was so different from the last time she’d been with the Doms. Before, they’d been sweet to her. Not like this. Ice formed inside her.

Even more tears welled up. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the leather padding.

Hands ran over her body, cupped her breasts, and pinched her nipples lightly. A finger carefully pushed inside her. She was fairly dry, and under the weight of their disapproval, not even their hands could get her to moisten.

Her mouth tightened, and she set herself to suffer. This felt all too much like her time with Casey earlier.

The fingers pushed in and out. Then the Dom—Vance?—grabbed one buttock and pulled on it, more fully exposing her asshole.

A tap on her cheek made her open her eyes. She stared into Galen’s face.

His lips formed the word,
Now.

She’d rather hit him than perform for him, but had no choice. She mouthed,
I hate you.

His gaze softened. Then he pulled the blindfold down from her forehead and over her eyes.

Couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. A shiver ran through her. But she had a chore to perform. She took a second to gather her thoughts, then let out a low, aroused moan.

VANCE’S LIPS TIGHTENED as he watched the pretty submissive go into her act. Fuck, he hated liars. His ex-wife had been a master at it. And he’d been too young and gullible to realize what she was doing. Even divorcing her hadn’t stopped the damage. By the time she finished, his best friend had been convinced he was an abuser. His buddy had eventually figured it out, but their friendship hadn’t survived.

Do the job, Buchanan.

“Aroused women are usually flushed. Their lips are redder and often more swollen than normal,” Galen said from his position near the top of the table. “See how her nipples are flaccid rather than peaked as they should be.”

“She’s barely wet,” Vance said, “although a woman’s vagina can moisten somewhat in sheer self-defense.” He separated her labia to show her clit. “Still hooded.”

And then Sally went into her orgasm.

Vance tightened his jaw. All fake. But, he had to admit, the sound would have made him erect if he hadn’t been so pissed off.

“Her moan is good theater,” Galen said. “The way she arches her neck and back is typical of orgasm—although, if you check her face, it appears oddly slack.” He grinned. “Think of when you get off. Facial muscles will tighten—in fact, most of us look like we’re dying.”

Laughter ran through the crowd.

Vance caught Galen’s glance and took over. “The pumping of her hips was usual for a woman coming. Her cunt and asshole would also pulse and clench. Being a very smart—as well as sneaky—submissive, Sally deliberately tightened her vaginal muscles—rather like those Kegel exercises they recommend for women.” He pulled his slightly damp fingers out and held them up. “However, at this point, she should be thoroughly soaked inside.”

“Her nipples never spiked,” Galen pointed out as Sally lay, panting slightly. “She does the after-orgasm limpness well. But…do you see any flushing anywhere?”

Another murmur came from the crowd.

Vance said, “Usually you’ll find redness over the sternum, cheeks, upper thighs, lower stomach, and ass. Her labia and clit would be more swollen and pink as well.”

“Hellfire,” one daddy Dom muttered. “I think my baby and I are going to have a chat.”

“Now,” Galen said. “The second half of this demonstration is to show you what she looks like when she really does get off.” He turned and started stroking Sally, running his hands over her breasts.

Vance smiled as she stiffened.
Not ready to be aroused, were you, pet?

“Bear in mind,” Vance said to the crowd. “Women are all different. Every sign may not be present, but you should get some of them.”

He bent and licked over her pussy, not trying for finesse or teasing. One part of the punishment was to teach her that her body could be used against her…despite her anger. Some women might be able to resist, but this little one was accustomed to submitting in public.

And she was fucking responsive, whether she wanted to be or not.

Under his lips, her clit swelled and pushed out from its hood. He took a step back to show the Doms. “That’s an aroused clit. See how her inner labia have puffed up and darkened with blood.”

Galen motioned to her face. “Her lips have reddened, cheeks are pinker. And, even without direct stimulation, her nipples are tight. She’s aroused”—he chuckled—“although she doesn’t want to be.”

Normally, Vance enjoyed such a challenge, but, like his partner, he’d started to feel sorry for her. Although Z’s choice of punishment was appropriate, Sally was a sweet little sub. It would be best to find out why she had a need to fake her orgasms.

He and Galen had decided not to drag the lesson out. Vance said to the Doms, “We don’t want to keep you here, so we’ll finish this up.” He pulled a condom-covered bullet vibrator from his pocket and applied it to Sally’s clit.

As he teased her for a bit longer, just for his own pleasure, he heard Galen point out the changes in her breathing and the increasing rigidness of her thigh and stomach muscles.

A second later, she climaxed.

“Her eyes would be dilated, but you can’t see that from where you are,” Galen lectured.

Pretty arch she had. Attending to the job at hand, Vance pointed out the visible contractions of her entrance and asshole and how a light red flush covered her thighs and belly. As Vance slid his fingers into her cunt, she jerked and spasmed around him. He held up his hand to show the ample amount of glistening fluid.

“Questions?” Galen asked.

The applause was quiet to avoid disturbing other scenes, and then their audience moved on.

Vance rubbed his hand up and down Sally’s soft inner thigh. “That went well enough.” He glanced at her face and saw the anger and unhappiness, despite the lingering glow of her orgasm. He sighed.

Galen gave him a wry glance. “Don’t think we won her over by punishing her.”

“The lecture we’ll give her won’t improve matters.” Sally could fill an entire room with her bright spirit; darkening her light felt wrong. “Fuck, I hate making submissives cry.”

“For punishment, yeah.” Galen tilted his head. “Have we ever seen her cry?”

Vance paused, trying to remember a time. “Maybe not. I can say for sure, though, that she now hates our guts.”

“Ayuh,” Galen said. “So let’s end this on a better note.”

SALLY LAY QUIET, waiting for them to set her free. What was taking them so long? Damn them.

She’d given demonstrations before but never as part of being punished. It galled her that she’d deserved the punishment.

But they were complete douche bags to make such an example of her. To show everyone what she’d been doing. Some of the Doms she’d played with had been observing, and they’d looked…disillusioned.

One side of the earphones was pulled off, and she heard Galen’s flat New England voice. “The audience is gone, and the curtains are closed, pet. This orgasm is just for you, because you took your punishment like a good girl.”

What? Her whole body went stiff. “No. No, I don’t want anything else.” She growled and tried to bring her hands down. They’d left her arms chained. Left her legs strapped, her pussy open. “Let me…”