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"And gotten long and hard while thinking, I'm sure," one of the women said, observing the crotch of the gray dancer's tights he wore. It was his only article of clothing except for a collar with several hooks in it to accommodate the tethers of a Dom or Domme who chose to seek him out this night. He was popular, so he'd come to her early, apparently to put in his plea before he was chosen for the evening's games.
The Dommes watched him, their hungry gazes recognizing the precious treasure of devotion like pirates with a pleasure yacht in their sights. Marguerite knew that when he was done with his entreaty, one would likely choose him for her games that night.
"It's difficult not to get hard when thinking about Mistress Marguerite. " He bowed his head. "I ask, if ever you would consider it. . . Please, I wish to be branded by you.
With the fleur de lis, the mark of a prisoner, for though I know I'm not your chosen, I would declare myself as yours whenever you desire me, even if that should be never.
Even if I'm just a worshipper at your temple who never gets to touch the Goddess or hear her sweet voice anywhere other than in my own mind again. "
"Goodness, Marguerite, you do make an impression," the other Domme commented, the amusement in her voice not quite able to obliterate the not unpleasant expression of envy.
When Marguerite continued to say nothing, simply sipping her drink, he bowed his head even lower. "Why should you honor me with your mark when I'm undeserving even of putting my lips on the sole of your shoe? I've taken up enough of your time, Mistress, Mistresses. Forgive my presumption. I ask your leave to depart your company. "
"You don't have it. " Marguerite made a noise in her throat as his surprised gaze almost lifted. He dropped it immediately. "I'll determine if you're deserving or undeserving, presumptuous or unpresumptuous. " Straightening her knee, she extended her foot gracefully. She left it in the shoe, no intentions of giving him the excessive liberty of touching her flesh.
Bending, he pressed his lips hard to the bottom of the black heel. His eyes raised briefly to take a hungry snapshot of her face, showing her those clear, pleading eyes she could not find it in her to resist.
It twisted things inside her, his words, his expression, the beautiful power of his body, so eager to please, to rut, to fuck if a woman commanded it of him.
No teasing came from the other Dommes now. There were moments a sub could humble his Mistress with his devotion. While Brendan did not belong to her, he was offering her that exceptional level of loyalty based on their one session together. She knew what they said about her, that her reputation deserved such responses, the things she was able to pull out of a sub in such a short time, like this. It didn't mean that the gift did not affect her.
"I'll think on what you said. In the meantime, prove how much you want my mark.
Until I tell you to cease, every Friday you will submit to a session with Master Tiberius. "
Master Tiberius was a pain administrator the Inquisition would have envied, bringing subs to orgasms so interlaced with agonizing physical strain that they did not know how to separate pain from pleasure. And she knew Brendan was deathly afraid of him, of having the walls shattered that pain could destroy.
"Yes, Mistress. Gladly. "
The lack of disagreement or hesitation startled her. She lifted his chin, allowing herself to stroke his smooth cheek with her fingers. His lips were soft, pale pink, but then all the subs she chose had that quality, innocence still preserved in their features despite the transition to full, fine manhood.
"You're not afraid. "
"I fear Tiberius but I fear your displeasure more, Mistress. "
"Go then and do my bidding this week. And the next, and the next, until I'm satisfied and tell you to stop. "
She'd stopped over Tiberius' favored room at times during the next couple months, breaking her pattern to come to The Zone on several Fridays. Not to play, just to see Brendan and how he was doing. Gagged, nipples and scrotum clamped, his anus stretched with plugs of impressive size, balls forced through cruel stiff straps, Tiberius' flogger leaving red marks on his flesh until Brendan screamed and came, again and again. And he would risk the Master's wrath to look up, find her and bow his head to
show he would endure anything for the chance to bear the mark of her servant. Even though he would be a servant that he knew and she knew would never be called to serve her.
* * * * *
She hadn't made an idle choice. After two months of Fridays, Brendan was ready for what she would do to him tonight. He could not only bear the pain; she intended that he would find pleasure in it.
She knelt at his face, cupped it in her hand and touched those soft lips. She'd let him kiss her pussy in that first and only session, she remembered. It had been through her clothes and just the press of his lips. She'd made him remain completely still with his mouth on her clit for several minutes, his nostrils flaring to take in her scent, his jaw tense to keep him from moving as ordered, though it was obvious he wanted to disobey with his whole body. Even that still touch was a liberty she didn't often allow those she took into the private rooms. Once, she'd allowed a sub to fuck her with a dildo strapped around his jaw while he serviced her clit with his mouth but she hadn't repeated the experience. It had done too many strange things to her, things that had kept her from coming back to The Zone for a month. Intimacy was too dangerous for her.
Taking down the front zipper of her snug bodysuit one set of teeth at a time, she revealed what she had cradled between her breasts. A lifelike phallus, warm with the heat of her skin. She put it into her mouth to lubricate it with her own saliva. It was not particularly large. After the sessions with Master T, she knew Brendan could easily take it.
"Shall I put this in you, Brendan? Up that sweet, fine ass of yours?"
"Yes, Mistress. Please. "
"Did you clean yourself for me?"
"Yes, Mistress. Thoroughly. Tim helped me. " He referred to his roommate and live-in lover. "But I mean, we didn't. . . I saved myself for you tonight, Mistress. " She nodded, rose, this time walking the length of his body so closely that her thigh brushed his side. She noted that just that brief contact raised fine gooseflesh on him.
Stepping over his anchored calves, she positioned the dildo in both her hands before her hips as if it was attached to her in the way it was attached to a man and guided it in.
