AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lukus
Upon hearing Tiffany’s surprising answer, Lukus released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Until she confessed she was at an eleven, he’d prayed she wouldn’t freak out and bolt.
It’d been the best kind of slow torture moving forward gently with Tiff all week, but he knew at a gut level it had been the right thing to do. If all he was interested in was having his way with her hot body, he would have rushed in to consume her faster than most women devour chocolate. However, knowing he was as interested in learning what made her fascinating mind tick as he was with learning every possible way to make her come, Lukus had been smart enough to know that his tried and true Master bag of tricks was not going to be enough with this woman.
As humbling as it had been to ask for advice, he was glad he’d spent time conferring with his friends James and Grey throughout the week. Not only did he trust both men to tell it like it was, both were happily married to strong women who had learned to walk the tightrope between strength and submission; the same balancing act he was hoping Tiffany could manage.
Even more valuable was the advice he’d gotten from his best friend, Markus. In the case of Brianna and Markus, they may still have been working through their own changing power dynamics, but Markus had one huge advantage Lukus had made sure to capitalize on—Markus had known Tiffany for years.
He couldn’t help but smile as he felt her wiggling in her seat, subconsciously grinding her cute ass against his growing erection.
Watching instead of participating in the show is sweet torture at its finest.
This was the first center stage show he’d ever watched at The Punishment Pit. When he was at the club, he was directing the scenes on stage, so sitting on the sidelines and playing the part of voyeur felt foreign. Yet, if it meant being able to hold this amazing woman in his arms, he knew he was still making out pretty good.
Lukus directed his attention to the scene on stage. When William had phoned him this afternoon, asking for stage time tonight, he had been surprised. Master William and his long-time submissive wife rarely took stage time; they preferred to watch the shows and either play in the audience pit, or, more often, move to one of the dozen private playrooms members used.
Lukus had taken great care furnishing each room with the kind of punishment furniture and sexually deviant devices most members desired in their own homes, but couldn’t afford or chose not to allocate space for. In addition to a place for public entertainment and socializing, the club was a specialized hotel of sorts, renting out private, sexually themed rooms by the hour or day.
Tonight, William had requested stage time to punish his normally obedient submissive slave, Stacy. Upon returning home from a business trip early, he’d discovered his grounded slave was not only out shopping, but had taken his Audi—a car she was not allowed to drive. When he had phoned her to let her know she was in a lot of trouble, she became so distraught she had side-swiped a row of parked cars, causing thousands of dollars of damage.
William had been smart enough to know he was so angry he might have taken her punishment too far, so he’d enlisted Lukus’s help. As they’d planned the show, William explained Stacy hated being publicly humiliated, so tonight’s show would be loaded with the punishments she hated the most.
Derek was explaining the situation to the club members. “Stacy has been a very naughty submissive. Her Master requested our assistance in educating Stacy about the seriousness of her mistakes. She will be properly punished and taught to think twice before doing something so stupid again.”
Lukus had to hand it to his friend. Derek had stepped up to take charge of the shows this week and was doing a good job.
Derek continued to address the audience. “Master William and I spoke at length. I think everyone will like what we have in store tonight. Everyone but slave Stacy, that is.” He approached the crying submissive hanging uncomfortably center stage. “Slave Stacy, due to the nature of the punishments we have planned, I need to ask if you are submitting to this punishment consensually. Or would you like to safeword before we start?”
A fresh sob escaped the sub as her eyes sought out her Master’s hard glare. Lukus could feel the anger rolling off the Dom and had a sudden kindred spiritual connection with the longtime member. Only tonight, Tiff had defied him in a much smaller way, yet he’d still lost his shit. He admired William’s restraint.
“Answer me, Stacy. Do you submit to this punishment willingly?”
“Yes, Master Derek. I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything to get my Master to love me again.” Fresh sobs wracked her body. Lukus noted the conflict on William’s face before he hardened himself for the job at hand.
William answered her. “Stacy, you know damn well I love you, but that changes nothing. You broke too many rules. You’ve earned the worst punishment you’ve ever received, and it’s not going to be over in one night. You’re under punishment rules for the next week, young lady.”
A quiet, “Yes, Sir,” emerged through her hiccupped crying.
Derek grabbed a wide leather strap from a nearby torture device supply cabinet and approached the hanging submissive. “What is your safeword tonight, Stacy?”
Lukus could see surprise flicker across her face before she answered submissively. “I don’t have a safeword tonight, Master Derek. I’ve earned what my Master thinks I deserve.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t work that way here and you know it. Answer me. Now. Safeword.”
His tone left no room for argument. She quickly answered, “Yellow/Red, sir.”
“Very good. Let’s start, shall we?” Derek stepped back, lifted his right arm, and delivered a full-force strike to her splayed pussy.
Lukus, had he been on the stage, would have performed more of a warm-up, but he was grateful to be where he was, holding a trembling Tiffany. He felt her shallow breathing become erratic while her attention remained riveted to the scene unfolding on stage. Her hips grinded faster as Derek continued to strap the screaming Stacy. Her Dom held her face, insisting she maintained eye contact with him. Derek delivered ten of the best, fast and furious, to get them started.
“How are you doing, Tiff? Still at an eleven, baby?” Lukus whispered his question.
He barely caught her whispered response. “I think I might be at a twelve now.”
Lukus dipped his fingers through her hot folds to get affirmation that she was indeed enjoying the show. She was leaking copious slick fluids, leaving her dripping wet to his touch. Testing the waters, he pinched her swollen clit and was rewarded with a low groan. When she tried to touch herself, Lukus corrected her. “Arms over the arm rests, baby. I didn’t tie your arms down, but I will if you can’t stay open for me.”
Her disappointed moan brought a smile to his lips, but she complied, adding a submissive, “Yes, Sir.”
