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“All right, this is where trust between a Dom and sub comes in,” Jasper stated, nudging Archie toward the table. “Ordinarily, I'd suggest doing this in private if your partner is a little nervous. However, I am a sadist, and I do enjoy torturing my kitten, as you all know. My advice would be to hire one of the private rooms here, perhaps ask one of the monitors or a trusted member to sit in as support. Up you go, kitten,” he told his sub when they reached the table. “Flat on your back, there's a good girl.”
Thane noticed that several subs in the audience, attached or not, appeared to swoon at the Master's words. He'd put money on the fact there'd be a rash of submissives willing to volunteer if Archie got cold feet and bolted. Not that Jasper would accept, but there'd be hands lifted, nonetheless.
Archie boosted herself onto the table, gracefully leaning back until her shoulders touched the cold rubber. She flinched and blew out a long, low breath. She gripped the sides of the table and stared up at the three spotlights beaming light and attention onto her body.
“Fisting requires three things: Time. Patience. Lube. Always make sure you have adequate lubrication available. Take the time to do things right. If you've only got thirty minutes to play, don't choose fisting as your activity for the night. Take the time to check your fingernails—make sure your hands are washed and clean, trim down your fingernails, and make sure you eradicate any sharp edges. Believe me, you do not want to cut her—she has the power to deny you sex for the next year.”
A smattering of laughter, barely a whisper, hummed through the audience spreading out around the circle of light.
“The choice is up to you whether you use latex gloves or not. Lube and latex makes for an easier insertion, so tonight I'll be wearing one. Always check with your play partner whether they have any allergies to what you’re using—in this case, your choice of lubrication and the brand of gloves.” Jasper stripped off his shirt, revealing some wicked full sleeve tattoos, then flicked the cloth off the wheeled table and picked up a blue glove, sliding it on with a snap that made Archie jump. “Avalon prides itself on stocking hypoallergenic products, but not every club does, and what you buy for home use may not be suitable for subs with allergies.” He flexed his fingers, stretching them. “Lubrication is essential. Don't be stingy assholes,” he warned.
Anarchy continued to stare at the lights, her body beginning to shake. Jasper rubbed his bare hand over her thigh in reassurance.
“By this point, your sub should have realized that something quite large and uncomfortable is going to be working its way inside her. You may get a calm reception, or you might find yourself with a hellcat trying to flee. Right now, a gentle touch and patience are your best fucking friends. Restraining your sub at the hips, thighs, and ankles might be beneficial.” He tugged a strap from beneath the table and crossed it over Archie's pelvis. Two more went around her thighs, another pair around her ankles. When she was pinned, he pushed the split in the table open, parting her legs wide. “My kitten can't wiggle, kick, or hurt herself. Your sub should be as flat as possible to keep her stomach and vaginal muscles loose. Doing okay, Archie?”
Her blonde head nodded nervously, but she didn't speak.
Thane wondered if she was biting her tongue.
“Right now, nerves are getting the better of her,” Jasper continued in a low voice. “There are no visible signs of arousal—no clit peeking from its hood, her labia are flat and pale. If I explore a little,” he said, shifting to stand beside her hip and sliding his gloveless hand down her mound, easing a single digit inside her, “she's not wet at all. Just relax, kitten. Just give me control.”
Thane could see her hips trying to squirm. In his arms, Connie was tense, her desire to help obvious. But this wasn't her rodeo, and she needed to understand Jasper had all the reins clutched in his fist. The man would rather cut off his arm than harm his submissive, that was plain to see.
Anarchy whimpered.
“I do love the sound of a sub in distress,” Jasper told the audience, playing the sadist role well, but his eyes were heavy with concern. “Unfortunately, that's not the game we're playing tonight. If your sub is anxious, reassure her. This is the center of your world at your mercy, trying her best to please you.” He moved up to her head, his hands on either side of her face. What he said to her was inaudible, but she shook her head slowly in response. Kissing her tenderly, he returned to his position. “Communication is key. Safewords should be applicable at all times.Should you find your submissive is, like mine, apprehensive, then tease her. Pleasure her. Stroke her pussy, suck her nipples, do whatever it is she enjoys most to get her head where you both need it to be.”
Jasper's fingers covered her mound again, using them to trace her labia, circle her clit. After a few quiet minutes of simple playing, she was arching against the straps, moaning pleas. “See how she's responding? Beautiful plump labia, a stunning shade of pink. Nipples erect, just like her clit.” He brushed his thumb over the bundle of nerves, then slid two fingers firmly up inside her. “Hot, wet, responsive. This is where you need to be before you even think about stepping up a level.”
“Sir, please.” Anarchy's moan caused a chain reaction through the room, with several groans bouncing back at her.
“I've got you, kitten. I'll give you what you want soon.” Jasper reached out and snagged a pump bottle off the metal table. He filled his gloved palm with thick, clear gel and liberally coated his entire hand as he spoke. “Lube should be applied over every inch of your hand. From fingers to wrist, front and back. If it's going inside her, grease it up. As often as you need to. Your priority as the Dom—or Domme—is to ensure your sub's comfort, safety, and wellbeing.”
He continued to spread the gel over his hand as he crossed to the other side of the table, jamming the bottle in his back pocket. “Archie, we're going to start now. You've got your safewords, use them if necessary. This will feel a little cold at first, kitten.” His moves were confident as he thrust two lubed fingers back up between her legs.
Thane's cock kicked in the confines of his jeans when her pelvis tried to tilt up, her legs kicking uselessly against her restraints. It was far too fucking easy to imagine Connie in the blonde's place, her curvy body trembling, her cunt clamping down on his fingers. Cursing under his breath, he straightened and adjusted his erection.
“Don't you be getting any ideas,” the love of his life hissed, making him grin.
“Would I?” he shot back, then turned his full attention back to Anarchy as she squealed.
Three fingers. Jasper wasn't messing about, but then he knew his sub's limits. His wrist didn't stop moving, constantly twisting and rotating, pushing forward slightly, pulling back. After a moment or two, he took the bottle from his pocket and pumped more gel over his fingers. “Anarchy is lovely and wet now. There's a twinge or two of discomfort, but she's opening up the more I ask. Ask,” he told the audience, “do not demand. Don't jam four fingers in and expect her to take it like a champ. Warm those muscles up, stretch them with care. Once she's happy with three fingers and she relaxes around them,” Jasper withdrew until only his fingertips remained inside her, then brought his pinkie finger into the mix, “then you can move ahead. Color, kitten.”
“Greeeeeeeeen,” she mewled, her hands gripping her own hair in white-knuckled fists.
“Good girls like my Archie find the rhythm. If by this point, your sub isn't exhibiting this kind of eagerness, take a break and talk things over. Call it quits for the night or just fuck her. Give her a positive reward for getting to this point.” His hand hadn't stopped yet, constantly working to gain just another inch. “Your hand should be in a cone shape. Four fingers as tightly together as you can, your thumb tucked into the middle.”
Certain Connie was about to spontaneously combust, Thane began to nibble on her ear, his hand sliding down the front of her until he reached her waistband. He snuck his hand under it, found her ridiculously wet.
Jasper withdrew completely, much to his lover's disappointment, and held up his hand to show what he meant. He squirted more lube onto his fingers, then the bridge of his broad knuckles. When he pushed back inside her, Anarchy's head tilted back on the table. “The most difficult part for your sub to accept is trusting you to force your hand into her cunt—in particular, the knuckles. The broadest part of your hand. The part that doesn't adjust, can't be manipulated to fit as easily as fingers.”
There wasn't a sound in the room aside from Anarchy's shallow, keening breaths. All eyes were on the scene unfolding, avidly waiting for Jasper's next narrative. Thane observed the muscles growing taut in the Master's arm, tried to gauge how much force was behind the constant pressure Jasper's hand was exerting against Anarchy's entrance.
Connie shifted restlessly in his arms, her hips subtly riding the fingers in her pussy. He couldn't wait to get her alone and give her something more substantial to pony up on—the way she was vibrating edgily, she'd go off like a fucking rocket.
Beneath the lights, Anarchy cried out sharply, pain shimmering under the sound. Her hands shot between her legs as she tried to sit up, only to be thwarted by Jasper's free palm pressing against her upper chest and pushing her back down flat. “Master Jasper, I can't, it hurts.”
More words were exchanged, out of range of the aroused crowd anticipating the next step. Jasper's kitten was begging earnestly, the expression on her face morphing from bliss to dread. Dread to acceptance. Acceptance to quiet submission. Whatever Jasper said to her, he was swaying her back to capitulation. When she nodded and offered him a wavering smile, the tension in Jasper's broad shoulders eased.
