Page 2 of Under His Control

Prepared this time, she managed to remain silent, though she couldn’t stop the single tear that rolled down her burning cheek. He flicked the tear away with his thumb and then slapped her again. The heat in her face was matched by the flame spreading through her loins.

There was a small stool in the corner of the scene station. Master Damon pulled it to the center of the mat and sat. He patted his knee. “Lie across my lap, hands behind your back.”

Ellen struggled to get control of her breathing. Wildly aroused by the face slapping, she was now being presented with her favorite kind of impact play. There was nothing she loved more than a bare-assed, skin-on-skin spanking.

As she moved to obey, she noticed Master Lawrence at her station, along with Master Mark and his sub, Jaime. There had been a rotating group of Enclave members at each of her previous scenes, no doubt observing how the potential partners interacted and how that might impact the ultimate selections.

Used to being on display, she put them out of her mind as she approached her scene partner. Heart pounding with anticipation, she draped herself over muscular, leather-clad thighs and brought her arms behind her back. The leather was cool and soft against her skin. She gripped her left wrist with her right hand as her feet found purchase on the mat.

Master Damon’s fingers lightly traced the welts left from the caning delivered earlier in the evening by another prospective Master. His feather-light touch sent an electric tingle over her skin.

Would he still spank her now that he’d seen the welts? She wanted to blurt out that they were superficial and probably looked worse than they felt, but of course, she held her tongue. Properly behaved subs did not speak unless spoken to or granted permission.

She got her answer as his large hand crashed hard over both cheeks. Before she could catch her breath, it came down again, this time catching the sweet spot where her thigh met her ass.

Then came a steady barrage of hard-handed, ass-blistering blows. In spite of her resolve to remain still and quiet, Ellen was soon gasping and squirming as she struggled to process the nearly overwhelming erotic pain.

Pausing the spanking a moment, Master Damon gripped her wrists and pressed them gently against her lower back. “Slow your breathing,” he said. “Flow with the pain rather than fighting it.”

His words and his centering touch calmed her. She managed to draw in a deep breath and release it slowly.

“That’s it,” he crooned. “Good girl.”

His praise warmed her to her bones. But that didn’t mean the spanking didn’t still hurt like hell. In some ways it was harder to handle than a caning, probably because of the constancy of the blows, and the sting of his palm covering so much flesh at once.

But it was a good pain—a necessary pain. For Ellen wasn’t only wholly submissive, she was deeply masochistic as well. She craved erotic pain. And this particular Dom was giving her what might be the best spanking of her life.

As she fully settled into herself, the pain slowly morphed into something deeper and all-encompassing. Ellen relaxed against the Dom’s strong legs with a contented sigh as she drifted up and up into that lovely, sweet space where pleasure and pain intertwined into perfection…

Ellen opened her eyes at the chime of a bell. Before she fully returned to earth, she was lifted in strong arms and set abruptly on her feet.

“Okay, everyone,” Master Lawrence said in a loud voice. “The scene portion of the evening is over. Subs, report to the slave quarters for aftercare. Doms, please adjourn to the living room for refreshments. The subs will join you shortly.”

With only a nod in Ellen’s direction, Master Damon left the station.

Before she had time to process his abrupt vanishing act, Danielle, Master Lawrence’s personal slave, appeared by Ellen’s side. “You okay? You look a little dazed. Not that I blame you. Six scenes in an hour and a half is a lot to handle.”

Ellen wobbled a little as Danielle took her arm. Not willing to admit just how profoundly Master Damon had affected her, she managed a shaky laugh. “I’m fine. Or I will be once I catch my breath.”

They walked out of the dungeon along with the other subs. Ellen hurried down the stairs with others, eager to compare notes about the various Doms they’d scened with. Lucia and Jaime were already waiting in the slave quarters, heated damp towels, welt salve, cold bottles of water and fruit juice at the ready.

“It’s not fair,” said Juliette, a petite dark-eyed girl. “The Doms get to rank us but we don’t get to rank them. I get it that The Enclave Masters ultimately decide, but what if the Dom they choose for me isn’t the one I want?”

“Sometimes the Master you think you want isn’t actually the one you need,” Danielle said.

Ellen regarded the beautiful blonde thoughtfully. During her time at The Enclave, she’d wondered what Danielle saw in Master Lawrence. It wasn’t only his average, even forgettable, looks or the fact he was easily a decade her senior. Master Lawrence could be so abrasive. And, in her experience at least, he was nearly impossible to please. Yet Danielle was clearly fulfilled as his slave. Apparently, she had found what she needed with him.

Lucia, Master Anthony’s slave and one of Ellen’s favorite people at The Enclave, offered Juliette a reassuring smile. “Trust the process,” she said. “The purpose of these binding auctions is to help take the guesswork out of finding the right partner. The participating Doms know they’re getting highly trained submissives. You guys have the assurance that every participating Dom has been thoroughly vetted to make sure they have clean bills of health, in-depth experience in the scene, and are good potential fits for our valued slave trainee graduates. Remember, The Enclave Masters have the final say in the pairings, and they have your interests first and foremost in their minds. This should free you up to really give your all to the process.”

“And the odds of making a real connection are a hell of a lot better than what you’d find at your standard BDSM meet-and-greet,” Jaime added.

“Not a high bar,” laughed Juliette.

“What I don’t get,” said Amira, a tall, willowy redhead with a ready smile, “is how it works for the Doms. I mean, there’s only three of us and six of them. So, half the guys are going to go home empty handed.”

“That’s because our main focus is on you, not them,” Lucia replied. “The goal here is to help our trainee graduates and other submissives in the BDSM community who are seeking a Master/slave match. The Enclave Masters have already been hard at work behind the scenes, carefully reviewing everyone’s profile, taking into consideration the top three choices of each of the bidding Doms along with all participants’ stated goals and objectives. They were also observing each scene with an eye to who seemed to click with whom. In the morning, they’ll get together and compare notes and make their decisions.”

“So, it’s not actually a real auction then, is it?” Amira said. “The Enclave Masters are behind the scenes pulling the strings.”

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