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As the light dropped on the audience, the spotlight blazed on the bound women. Hans wandered toward the stage from the audience with a riding crop dangling from one hand. He took his place on the platform before the two women, acting as if he was inspecting them. Swiftly, going behind the brunette’s chair, he tugged at the ropes, which appeared to release the woman enough for her to rise from her chair. Hans jerked her to her feet with her hands remaining bound. Led to a crude sawhorse on the other side of the stage, she was thrust over the top, and to everyone’s surprise the leather skirt was one-sided. Her bare ass hung out, her pussy showed, and it was obvious to all that there was a substantial dildo in her rear.
Once Hans had secured the woman to the sawhorse, he moved on the blonde. In like fashion, she was untied, pulled to her feet and thrust over the wooden bar. Like the brunette there was no backside to her skirt, and a hefty dildo violated her ass end.
Two taut rears, side by side. One more generous than the other, but there was plenty of flesh to redden on both.
“Ladies, and gentlemen,” Hans said turning around. “My submissives, my brats, my lusty wenches for your consideration. They’re to be chastised tonight for foul crimes, both recently guilty of disobeying me, and having the audacity to challenge me to this affair tonight. You see how meek they are now; like little lambs, they’ll play for your sympathy. But know, they’re saucy wenches in need of discipline. I should like to lay this riding crop on their asses later. But only after they’ve been strapped or paddled. I’ll leave that up to you.” He smiled playfully, though there was something foul in his eyes. “Who’ll be the first? Pick your implement and give them each a good ten.”
There was a flurry of conversation in the room, and then one fierce looking man stood up, and sauntered toward the stage. Brusquely picking up a wooden paddle, without a word, even a single comment, without an instant’s hesitation, he laid the paddle on the brunette first, with ten fast paced smacks. Moving on to the blonde, he repeated the process. Handing the paddle to Hans, he returned to his seat.
The two women on the platform had shrieked at the severity of the quick sustained blows; though they calmed quickly when it was over. What was not so quick to calm was the red on their ass ends, for the most part appearing in one specific section of their bottoms. This dominant didn’t care about making the whole flesh burn as much as he wanted the punishment to be painful.
Before the next dominant approached the platform, Reggie looked at Jocelyn’s mesmerized face. Taking her hand in his, he squeezed it so she would acknowledge him. Her look was inquisitive and cautious. She didn’t know what to think. He dropped her hand, so she could resume her observations, though she leaned over to Reggie and whispered, “You’d do that to me?”
“I already have, haven’t I?” he said. He thought of the train when she was tied being similar enough. These two would be ass-fucked before the night was out.
She didn’t reply, but turned her attention back to the stage.
A second dominant was already aiming a broad strap at the two behinds. His plan was different than the other man’s. He alternated between the rosy rears, letting leather fly and land with sharp cracks against their jiggling flesh. The cries were woeful, though there was plenty of time for each woman to recoup before the next cut hit.
The scene went on with the bratty wenches feeling the force of six dominants, two woman and four men wielding their fastest, best and most fierce blows across the offered asses. When the preliminaries were complete, their buttocks and thighs were blazing red, top to bottom, ghastly raw in some places. It was hard to believe that Hans would allow more, but there was. His riding crop was the last insult to play across the punished flesh. The women screamed, though by then, there was a quality to their agony that was not so dire as erotic. They moved within their bonds in such a way that had the audience squirming.
Jocelyn was squirming in her chair, blushing as if it had been her. Her entire being was flushed and wanting, Reggie finding it difficult himself to stay to the end for wanting her.
After a dozen swishes of the crop on each rear end, Hans and another lucky dom moved to the two women and planted cocks at their pleasure. When the dildos dropped it was clear where they’d thrust their pricks, though it was not easy to see from the angle of the audience. As the fucking commences, the crowd began to disperse – many were too hot to wait, and took their partners to private rooms within the club. Others remained in the theatre and let the crowd watch.
Having had enough himself, and knowing that Jocelyn had had enough as well, Reggie grabbed her hand and led her from the steamy room out a back door and down a corridor that led to the back exit. They were in a brick alcove where the basement stairs led to an alley, not the street. Stopping there, Reggie bared her behind and felt for her crotch, finding her sopping wet. He would have preferred to have taken her ass, but he knew she was sore from the day before. Her pussy would do for his swelling prick. Leaning her back against the brick wall, he picked her up by the ass so she was at the appropriate height for fucking, and then withdrawing his erection, he thrust inside her, listening to her sweet gasp of pleasure as he nestled inside her steamy hole. Jocelyn wrapped her arms around him so he could feel her hot body against his. She fell into him completely, no protests, no woeful sounds issuing from her lips. So compliant and open and willing, he thought he was melting into nirvana.
She breathed hard for a few minutes, an orgasm mounting; and with a sumptuous sigh she squeezed against his cock. Her body tightened and then released. Reggie climaxed in the midst of a pounding fuck, and kissed her as he came, their mouths meeting without design or plan. It seemed the way it should be, this unexpected intimacy not waiting for them to think about it to make it happen. It was a natural product of a bond that was rapidly taking control in the tentative relationship.
***
Waking the next morning, Jocelyn found Reggie sleeping peacefully in the bed beside her. She remembered collapsing from exhaustion, not as much a need to sleep, as a need to repair her psyche with the thoughtlessness and emptiness of sleep. Emotions on overload, there was so little to say and so little energy to speak. She and Reggie had said almost nothing after they left the alley behind the nightclub.
In the light of morning, throwing on a pair of sweats, she munched an apple while she wrote him a brief note. Grabbing a hastily packed bag, she left.
It was odd being in a foreign country when she wanted comfort. There were no well remembered streets, no landscapes that she’d gazed on so often that she knew every inch of them by memory, their familiarity a solace. Each new thing that caught her eye threatened to take her mind from her mood and her quandary. But at least she was away from the boiling pot and the small place of madness that had grown inside her unannounced. Some decisions you make foolishly, she decided, without thinking them through. Hadn’t he warned her? Hadn’t that dear man warned her?
To call him dear seemed a misnomer, but that was how she thought of Reggie. He was so peacefully sleeping. Her sleep had been fitful.
She drank coffee and ate a pastry at mid-morning in a street side cafe. The sun was just beginning to warm the old city, the picture-book loveliness of the cobblestone streets and slightly sagging ancient buildings around her made her smile. An old man bicycled by and tipped his hat, his craggy face opening into a broad grin as he passed. Children in the tiny park across the street shouted while they played some game. It made it difficult to brood.
She roamed the streets for several hours, and was enormously hungry by four that afternoon. She stopped long enough to buy a feast in the market; and taking that and a half dozen bags in her hand, she found a small hotel overlooking the river to her liking. She checked into a single room, planning to extend the tranquility a few more hours.
***
The meeting had already begun by the time Jocelyn arrived the next morning. She could have kicked herself for being late. But would ten minutes matter? She straightened her blue skirt at the front of the door, pulled down on the white tunic blouse, and gave her hair one last flounce. She hated dressing in a hurry, but this day it was unavoidable. It was regretful that Reggie wasn’t in the room when she returned to the hotel.
“Miss Killian, it’s nice of you to join us,” Reggie said, looking very much relieved when he saw her attempt to slip into the conference room unnoticed. Making a display of her tardiness however, the room of fifteen businessmen turned to stare.
“I apologize, please don’t let me disturb you,” she said smiling.
“We hadn’t really begun,” Reggie acknowledged. “Gentlemen, I’d like a moment to confer with my assistant before we begin.”
Reggie quickly exited with Jocelyn on his arm.
“Where the hell have you been?” He turned to her with a scowling face when they were at a safe distance from the conference room.
