The Art of Control (13 page)

Once inside, I’m pleased to be greeted by an English speaking manager. He gives us a quick tour and tells me how the Dark Asylum had nothing but praises regarding me and Isa. The look and feel is different than that of the Dark Asylum, but really, it’s very much the same and it’s nice to know that BDSM is
a universal language that doesn’t need translation.

We make friendly conversation with a few English speaking patrons and Isa eases into submissive form flawlessly. She takes her place at my feet, kn
eeling gracefully with her wrists locked behind her back and keeping her eyes on me. She’s a vision of perfect submissiveness and I think the members are quite impressed with her. I pet her hair while I talk with a Dom named Luke. He takes a keen interest in Isa and asks if she’s available for scening. It would be interesting to see someone else push Isa’s limits with me in close proximity to guide his hand and to watch Isa’s body language.

“Pu
ssycat, did you hear the man? Luke wants to scene with you. What do you think?”

Isa’
s eyes widen, but she remains perfectly obedient. “Only if it pleases you, Master.”

Even though her answer is
a negative response, it’s said in such a lovely and charming way that it makes my loins ache.

“It would please
me,” I announce as I continue to play with her golden curls. “Please give us a moment, Luke, while I prepare my pet.”

Luke agrees and goes ahead of us to prepare the equipment.

Isa looks distressed, so I comfort her. “Love, nothing is going to happen that you and I don’t want to happen. I’ll be standing right next to him, guiding him.”

“But you promised you would never make me be with another man,” she says softly.

“What do you think is going to happen here? I’m not asking you to have sex with this man. You’re only participating in a scene, pussycat. Look at me.”

She reluctantly looks up at me and I lean down and kiss her. “I would nev
er let another person hurt you and I most certainly would never share your body in the most intimate way. Now tell me you understand that.”

“Yes, Sir,
I understand,” she answers, looking relieved.

“I know I don’
t have to remind you - safe, sane and consensual, right? All the rules that apply back home apply here. Okay? I’ll keep a very close eye on your body language to ensure that nothing gets out of hand. And you always have your safewords, too.” I keep my voice smooth and controlled, trying to ease her anxiety.

Her eyes soften and she nods in agreement. “Yes, Master. Let’s show these Parisians how Americans rock BDSM,” she says with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Hell yes.

***

Isabel

Dylan helps me up from the floor and my
mind starts spinning. He looks excited at the prospect of another man doling out punishment and though I’m not entirely convinced that I’ll enjoy this, I’m willing to give it a try if it pleases Dylan.  I trust Dylan implicitly and I know he would never allow anything that I wouldn’t like. 

We approach Luke who is adjusting a suspension rig down to my height level. He’s a tall and lean man with dark blond
e hair that hangs in his eyes and he looks to be about Dylan’s age or a little older. He’s quite handsome in his own way, but his penetrating green eyes reveal his deviant nature. He picks up a bullwhip and I hear myself gasp. I mean holy ludicrousness …
a motherfucking bullwhip
? I blush at my own inner dialogue and I’m grateful Dylan didn’t hear my flagrant use of the F-bomb.

I look to Dylan and h
e appears just as distressed as I feel. Luke assures him that he’s a master of the bullwhip and the manager joins in to tell us of Luke’s vast experience. What the hell ever.
Vast experience my chafed ass.
I hear whisperings and mumblings, and then Dylan nods his head in acceptance. Okay then. I guess I’m getting the bull whipped out of me. I take in a deep breath and let it out.
I can do this.
Hell, Dylan has put me through the ringer with the cat o’nine, surely a bullwhip won’t be so different.
Who the hell am I kidding
? I start to fidget and Dylan tenderly grabs my hand and kisses the top of it.

He proceeds to undress me and I’m left standing under the rig with just my
corset and panties.  Moving behind me, Dylan loosens my corset strings, unlacing the top half and exposing my back. He steps aside while Luke takes over and brings the bar down, cuffing my wrists in place.

Standing in front of me, Luke peers into my eyes and smiles wickedly. “We use the standard safewords here, little dove. Nothing fancy, just yellow and red if things get too intense for you. The one thing I must insist on is that you not move. It’s imperative. Nod if you understand,” he says in a thick Parisian accent.

Nodding my understanding, I inhale deeply, taking in his unique scent of
expensive cologne with an undertone of sweat. I inhale deeply once more through my nose and blow out the air slowly through my mouth in an attempt to contain my nerves. I watch his hands as they move expertly and unhurriedly. He then kneels down and cuffs my ankles to the spreader bar, adjusting the width to a comfortable position. I keep my eyes on him, but I feel Dylan’s heated gaze on me so I look over to him. He’s watching me protectively and standing just within earshot. When I’m sufficiently bound, Luke stands and runs his hands through my hair and pushes it out of my eyes. Dylan visibly winces and clenches his jaw.  Knowing how possessive and jealous Dylan is, I’m surprised that he’s allowing this or that he even agreed to the suggestion of it. Maybe this is a test. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to agree to it? But I didn’t really agree to it, Dylan talked me into it. Okay, now I’m just being paranoid.

I take a deep breath and blow it out
again, along with my anxiety. When I feel the rig being pulled up into position, I close my eyes and submerge myself. Music comes on and I slow my breathing and heartbeat.
Yes - I can do this.

A woman’s voice is singing in French about a lost love and how her heart has been ripped in two. Her voice is sultry
and smooth. I open my eyes to see Luke circling around me, his eyes moving up and down my body. He adopts the same dominant stance that Dylan does as he reaches for the fearsome bullwhip. I should be afraid, but I’m not. I’m excited and nervous, and aroused, too, but I’m not afraid. Dylan is close by; close enough that I can smell his delicious masculine scent when a draft moves past him and it makes me feel safe. I keep my eyes on the whip as Luke circles it around on the floor, the swishing sound hypnotic and entrancing.

Luke disappears beh
ind me when I abruptly hear the air break and the crack of the whip. I brace myself for the worst, but I’m met with a warm sensation on my back as the leather licks my skin softly. The sweet feeling is felt two more times before Luke moves in front of me. His eyes are fully dilated and his thin lips parted.

“How was that,
little dove? Would you like more?” he asks, running his thumb across my bottom lip.

“Yes,
more please,” I request.

Luke
grins seductively at me and casually moves behind me again. I close my eyes and let the music wash over me as the heat in my pussy radiates to my core. The crack of the whip is low and dull this time, but the feeling is more pronounced than before and I resist jerking from the change in intensity. It feels amazing and like nothing I can compare it to.

Four more snaps on my back and upper thighs and I start to feel the endorphins building in my body. They start in my toes and slowly work their way up m
y thighs and linger there, waiting for more enticement from the divine sensation of the whip to urge them forward.

Luke whispers in my ear from behind me, “More?”

His hot breath is like an inferno and my pussy pulsates in anticipation of his expertly skilled hands wielding his chosen tool of torture against my body. I try to coax my mouth to move, but because of the trance-like state I’m in, it refuses to cooperate.

Dylan reads my mind and
body, and answers for me in a low, thick with desire voice, “Yes, she wants more.”

God, yes, I want more. I want it all. I want the whip to caress every part of my body and for Dylan to watch me take every last strike of the leather like I was bo
rn to be here, suspended in mid-air and under complete submission. Luke steps away from me and the warmth of his body leaves me as a cool chill of air takes his place. Hot, strong hands are on my face and I know the familiar touch without having to open my eyes.

“You look divine
right now, pussycat,” Dylan purrs as he leans into my ear.

Standing in front of me, my Master’s tongue strokes
my cheek, and his hands hold me steady as I take the next series of whips like a champion. The last two strikes are even more painful than before and my body begins to shake. I can’t bring myself to open my eyes. My cunt is throbbing and I’m frustratingly close to release.

“A little more, my love
. You’re almost there,” my Master lovingly encourages. “More, Luke, my angel is almost ready to soar. Give her what she desires.”

The endorphins have made their way up to my core
and begin to pulsate in my belly and chest. Dylan’s fingers slip inside of me as Luke gives me everything he has, holding nothing back. Dylan smashes his mouth on mine as I begin to pant, his tongue invading my mouth. His arousal is palpable as he kisses and fingers me voraciously.

One
, then two harsh whips sweep across my shoulder blades and my head feels like it’s going to explode as the adrenaline rushes to my brain. My back is on fire and the feeling is so intense, sinful and forbidden that my mind reels. Dylan’s fingers keep persecuting me, tugging at me, his breathing labored with excitement… and with the third lashing, I scream out and cum without warning.

My body con
vulses and I float far, far away into deep subspace. The cool chill of post orgasm settles in my lower belly and it’s soon replaced by the warmth that follows. I don’t want to come down from this high. I spread my wings and fly around my safe haven, my happy place, my home away from home…

Soft, distant voices break through my dream state.

“Isa, come back to me, my precious angel.”

“Little dove, come back…”

No, I want to stay here for just a few minutes longer.

“Does she always orgasm like this?”

“Yes, don’t worry. She always comes back to me.”

Oh, Dylan
,
of course I always come back –
I love you
. I will my eyes to open and they reluctantly obey my command. When everything comes into focus, I see Dylan and Luke watching me closely. I’m cradled in Dylan’s arms in a soft blanket and Luke is running his hands through my hair.

“O
h, how I love to watch you fly,” Dylan breathes into my ear.

“Welcome back,
little dove.  You had me worried,” Luke coos.

Still unable to speak,
I smile, letting my two Doms know that I’m okay and at this moment in time, all is right in my world.

Dylan

Isabel’s high is replaced by uncontrolled shaking so I hold her close and give her the warmth of my body. She’s accustomed to this routine now and lays quietly as her subspace rush wears off. Luke fetches
a bottle of water and holds it to her mouth as she greedily drinks it, spilling water onto her chest and chin. He gently wipes her clean and touches her hair. Isa smiles at him and nods her appreciation. My jealousy threatens to break through with the longing gaze she’s giving him, but I know Isa belongs only to me.  She’s in my arms, not his and she’s going home with me tonight, not Luke. Most importantly, she’s wearing my mark of ownership and my collar.

“For never having experienced the
pleasure of the bullwhip before, your pet took it unlike anyone I’ve ever seen. She’s quite an interesting little specimen. I’ve never seen a woman orgasm quite so powerfully before and it was mesmerizing to watch,” Luke says to me as he touches the tip of Isa’s nose. I do believe Luke has a crush on my wife and I can’t say I blame him. I’m crushing on her, too. I have a raging hard on from watching Isa take the whip so obediently. Now, as she lays here in my arms, I want to make sweet love to her. No bindings, no pain, just plain old vanilla with a twist.

I’m watching Isa keen
ly, listening to the sound of her breathing and feeling her heartbeat against the palm of my hand as it lies across her chest. Her eyes come into focus and she blinks rapidly as her eyes gloss over.

“Happy birthday, sugar.
I love you.”

“My dearest pussycat, I love you, too. M
ore than I can put into words, more than life itself. This has been, by far, the best birthday I’ve ever had. Thank you for your performance. It will be forever burned into my memory.”

Isa slowly rouses and I dress her
, and we visit for a short time before saying our goodbyes and leaving. It’s well past nine when we decide to get a drink and something to eat. After we’re done eating and discussing the scene and how she felt about it, we decide to walk the streets of Paris for some late night entertainment.

We come upon an upscale
nightclub not far off the beaten path that has a line outside about 20 people deep.  Handing the doorman several €100 Euro notes, we’re able to slip inside ahead of everyone else. Loud heavy bass and smoke fill the air and bright strobe lights flicker on the dance floor.  The dark corners of the establishment are filled with breathtaking women and men fondling them. I order Isa a tequila shot and two shots of Irish scotch for myself with water chasers. We down our liquor and grope each other in a small booth near the dance floor.

Isa has another two shots of tequila and the effects of the alcohol on her are almost immediate. It’s as if the beverage bypasses all her organs and goes straight to her libido. She closes her eyes and starts moving rhythmically to the music, touching herself seductively by running her hands through her hair, over her lips and in her mouth as she licks the tips of her fingers.  Her hands then inch their way down her stomach and to her thighs. Mildly inebriated Isa is a hard-on provoking sight to behold. 

Unexpectedly
she stands and yanks me up with her. She drags me to the dance floor and starts gyrating her round ass into my crotch. She grips my hips and pulls me close as her curvy body undulates to the music. The dance lessons have definitely helped. I’m glad I insisted on them. I only wish there was a pole in our hotel room for her to demonstrate her new-found talent. I lean down into her neck and lick her salty skin and bite her earlobe. Her hands find my hair and mine slide up her thighs and under her dress, squeezing her fleshy ass. It’s as if we’re in our own little world as we dry fuck on the dance floor and I pull Isa’s hips into my hardened dick and grind against her ass. She reaches back and grips me firmly, stroking me through my pants, and no one gives us two glances.

Hot damn, Isa is one sexy little p
laything
. I turn her around and crush her with my arms as I hold her close. My fist tangles in her hair and I tug hard so I have access to her throat. Isa cries out when I lick and suck at her jawline and neck with all my might. She unzips my slacks and thrusts her hand into the opening and proceeds to jack me off in the middle of the crowded room. I press my mouth onto hers and kiss her deep, forcing her to accept my tongue as I assault the wet recesses of her mouth.

“Please,
please
fuck me, Master,” she whines into my mouth.

I remove her h
and from my pants, zip them up, and haul her to the back of the bar and into the men’s restroom, relieved that the lights are dim so no one can see the wet precum spot on the front of my pants. We find an available stall and I shove Isa into it roughly. My need to be inside Isa is so all-consuming, I swear to fucking Almighty I could cream myself right at this moment. I push her onto the toilet seat and she tears at my pants aggressively, yanking my cock out of my briefs and engulfing it in her impatient mouth.

“That’s it, pussycat, let me f
uck this beautiful face,” I grunt out, holding her hair back and pushing her head down onto my engorged dick.

Isa rest
s her hands on my thighs and her eyes meet mine, our gaze never wavering while I deep throat her. She pulls back, her tongue swirling around the head of my dick and I thrust into her throat again making her gag, but she throats all nine inches of me like a pro. Her eyes start to water and drool runs down her chin, and she’s never looked more alluring than she does right now.

“This mouth is mine to fuck, do you hear me?
All mine,
” I growl as I guide her mouth up and down my shaft.

I force myself
all the way to the back of her tight throat and hold her head there. Isa takes her hands off of my thighs and holds them behind her back in a submissive pose, demonstrating her total trust in me. Seeing her surrender herself to me so completely damn near makes me juice in her greedy mouth so I pull out quickly. Isa inhales deeply and sputters as she catches her breath. I jerk her off the seat, bend her over in front of me and peel her panties off, tossing them to the floor. Kneeling down behind her, I plunder her ass with my tongue and finger fuck her dripping cunt.

Voices can be heard outside the bathroom stall
and several people’s shoes can be seen under our door as they try to get a look through the stall door opening at the debauchery that's taking place. Isa squeals out when I tug at her hot, swollen pearl and she reaches back and pulls my hair in response.
I hope they’re enjoying the sounds of our sinful self-indulgence.

“Fuck me with that big dick already,”
she pants out.

Who am I to deny my horny little submissive
? I stand behind her and plunge into her, fucking her relentlessly. She rests one of her feet onto the stool and braces her hands against the sides of the stall, tilting her ass up and giving me complete access to the depths of her pussy as I slam into her over and over.

“Oh, God, please,
please
…” she screams out.

“
Not God;
Master
,” I bark.

“Yes, Master.
Fuck me harder!”

I spin her around, wrench her dress
and bra down under her tits and bury my face in them. I bite and pluck at the tight buds of her pink nipples, then pull one of them to a point with my teeth harshly. Isa shrieks out and slaps my face hard and tugs at my hair, dragging my mouth away from her overabundant breast. My cheek blazes with heat from the brutal contact and my cock strains.
My little angel likes it rough, does she?

“
You want it rough, huh?” I snap, grabbing her by the jaw and shaking her face.

I
smash her body against the wall of the stall and lift her high, hiking her legs over my shoulders. She locks her ankles behind my neck and I stab into her pussy again, making her screech from the depth of my penetration.

“That’s
it; fuck your Master’s cock. Love it.
Own it
.”

“
Ahh, Master. Ahh, ahh” is all Isa can stammer out with her eyes tightly shut.

I push
my fingers into her mouth to shut her up and she sucks at them eagerly.  Isa’s velvet walls caress my cock, contracting and pulsating around it. I bury myself in her, filling her beyond capacity and hitting her cervix. She bites down on my fingers and lets out a muffled shriek as her body shudders and quivers with her sudden orgasm, her legs stiffening and then relaxing. She’s finished, but I’m not. I pull out of her, lower her onto the toilet seat again and fill her mouth.

“Make your owner
cum,” I demand.

Isa sucks at me
hungrily and then laps at the area just underneath my balls while she jerks me off. I focus on her shiny rose-colored lips and the sounds of her wet sucking. It doesn’t take much and when her glistening tongue ring hits the tip of my cock, I empty myself and a thick ribbon of cum jets onto her face and chest. Isa cleans me up the best she can, licking up what little of my jizz is left running down my shaft.

“Y
ou look divinely filthy, my little wench,” I tell her, taking a mental snapshot of Isa with cream pie all over her face. Bending down, I grab her panties from the floor and stand her up, gliding her panties up her legs and skimming my fingers along the backside of her thighs and clutching her ass.

***

Isabel

My head is fuzzy from the tequila, my face and chest are wet and sti
cky from Dylan’s manjuice, my legs are wobbly and my body aches from our ferocious fuckfest. I wipe my face with some tissue paper and clean myself while Dylan puts himself back together. The sound of whispering and lighthearted laughter can be heard outside the bathroom stall.  I try to adjust my hair, but Dylan’s cum has started to dry into a crusty mess in my bangs and there’s nothing that can be done about it so I simply sweep my hair to the side.

When we step out of the stall, there are a handful of men and one woman standing gathered
around. A slow round of applause builds and my face heats from embarrassment. Dylan tucks me under his arm and I keep my eyes to the floor, mortified that we made a spectacle out of ourselves. Looking up at Dylan, his cheek still glows from my cruel slap, but it makes no difference because he’s smiling from ear-to-ear and nodding to the gentlemen as the small crowd parts to allow us through.

He gaze
s down at me and winks, “Yes, this is most definitely the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

Holy damp panties
. Will I ever get over the way this man makes me feel with a simple smile and a wink? I hope not.  I hope we always feel this kind of love and passion for one another. I’m glad to have made Dylan so happy and my bashfulness abates at seeing him so pleased with me.

Dylan
has to assist me and half hold me up as we make our way back to the bar because of my weakened state. He orders himself another shot of Irish scotch and asks if I want anymore tequila. Hopefully he’s kidding.
Damn that tequila.
I lose all my inhibitions when I drink it. It goes straight to my vagina and he knows that. He’s waiting for my answer with an arched eyebrow and I suspect this is a test.

“No thank you, I’ll just have some
water,” I answer and he grins at me.

Half an hour later, we’re back in our room. Every part of my body hurts, including my still swollen nipple that Dy
lan so brutally attacked. After taking off my dress, I inspect myself in front of the bathroom mirror. I’m flabbergasted to see hickies and nibble marks all along my neck and the top of my breasts. The red marks look splendid against my cream-colored skin. In fact, they look so sexy, I wouldn’t mind adding a few more to the collection.

Dylan strolls into the bathroom and stands behind me as I inspect my body f
or more evidence of our violent bathroom encounter. I find a few small bruises on my inner thighs and several on my hips.
Nice
.

“Do you
like what you see?” Dylan asks with a naughty smirk on his face.

“Yes, I like it very muc
h. Can I have a few more?” I ask, pointing towards my neck.

“P
ussycat, you can have as many as you can handle.”

He leans down into me
and proceeds to suck at me playfully.

After our shower, it’s time for our nightly confessional. This time, I want Dylan to do the talking. I lie next
to him and snuggle close, basking in his clean manly scent.

“Let’s talk about you tonight,” I say to him, running my fingers through
his pleasure trail.

“Why? I’m not as interesting as you are.”

“I’m not interesting - I’m flawed and damaged. I want to know about the things you did as a child and young adult. I want to hear about when you worked for the NSA.”

“
Seriously, stop saying things like that. I don’t know how many times I have to repeat that you’re not damaged
.
And the NSA again? Boo.” he huffs.

“Oh, come on, Dylan. Please?
I want to know absolutely everything about you.”