I had never done anything like this before. It was heady, a strangely powerful feeling, despite the ersatz powerlessness of the set-up. Anyone who wants to can see my breasts. Anyone who asks can touch them. The nipples flared with a buzzing sensation, weakening my knees so that I was glad not to be standing.
‘Hmm, not in the order I asked for, but we’ll address that later, perhaps.’
Victorian Gent reached out beringed hands and weighed my tits in them, jiggling them so that a low laugh rippled through the audience.
‘A good handful,’ he noted. ‘And these …’
The pads of his thumbs moved over the nipples with tormenting lightness, round and round in teasing circles, letting them flood with a rush of need that also filled my clit and wetted my pussy.
‘Sensitive, are they?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Without warning, he pinched them hard and I gasped, shying away. His palm landed loudly on my thigh, leaving a print there.
‘Keep still,’ he said roughly, and Justin echoed the instruction with a warning tug on my collar. ‘She needs more training.’
‘Oh yes, she does,’ Maz agreed. ‘Lots of it.’
The Victorian Gent took my skirt and brushed it aside, tucking it into the gold belt from which it hung so that my shaved cunt peeked out, pink and still swollen from the whip stroke.
‘No piercings,’ he noted. I shuddered.
‘I wouldn’t say she was ready for that yet,’ said Justin.
‘OK, we’ll come back to that. Turn around, girl. I want to inspect your arse.’
I shuffled around on my knees, hands still on my head, feeling the collar swivel and chafe my neck as I rotated. That heat in my pussy was becoming too much, making me want to rub my thighs together or touch my clit, but I knew I would find no relief until it pleased a master.
The curtain was drawn on my bum, which seemed to meet the crowd’s approval. A hum of admiring chuckles and whistles jumbled into my ears. As soon as Victorian Gent’s fingers pinched a cheek, I realised that it wasn’t the fine form of my rear they were appreciating, but Justin’s work with the martinet.
‘You’ve flogged her already,’ he commented.
‘She needed a little preparation,’ said Justin. ‘Some encouragement to behave herself.’
‘Good,’ said Victorian Gent, rubbing at the warmest spots. ‘I don’t think whippings should be given only for punishment either. I think they work very well to keep a girl on track, remind her of her place. I like to administer varying degrees of whipping, depending on the intention behind them. Don’t you?’
‘Indeed I do.’
I had thought I was doing pretty well, holding my position, obeying my instructions without question, but then came the first real test.
Victorian Gent prised apart my buttocks, exposing my anus to the whole room. I clenched my muscles hard and felt a powerful urge to remove my hands from my head and push my cheeks back together. I rocked on my knees, so close to disobeying, so close to defying – and then I caught the eye of one of the other slave girls. She smiled at me, a smile of envy as well as encouragement, and that sudden reminder that I was here because I wanted to be calmed me. I took a deep breath and placed myself in the heart of my submission, ignoring the audience, the shame, the panic and concentrating only on the primal beat between my legs. This was what I was here for, after all.
‘This looks tight,’ said Victorian Gent. ‘Is it virgin?’
‘I believe it might be,’ said Justin with a weak chuck
le. ‘Slave?’
‘Yes, sir,’ I confirmed. Not from choice, I wanted to add. I’d tried to interest Gareth, but he’d shied away from that particular orifice, claiming not to have any “gay urges”. Methought he did protest too much, to be honest.
‘Any slave of mine would need to give that up to me,’ said Victorian Gent. ‘Would that be a problem?’
‘No, sir.’
He bent and I felt his breath against the tiny pucker as he examined it in minute detail.
‘It’s some time since I saw such a tight hole. I’m very interested.’