“Welcome back, Ms. Dawson.”

She gave the man who scanned her green wrist band a startled look.  “Um, thank you.”

“Enjoy your stay at Secrets this evening.”  The door to the club opened and Amy stepped inside.

She was surprised at how busy it was for a Thursday night.  The club was packed with people and seats were already filling up in front of the small stage.  A man walked by her.  He was tall and thin, and she stared at the wooden paddle in his hand as he gave her body an appreciative look.

“Would you like to play?”  He asked.

“Oh, uh, no thank you.”

He shrugged, and she fought the urge to cover her chest with her arms when he studied her cleavage.

“Your tits are incredible.”

“Thank you.”  Her tits were now turning an embarrassingly bright shade of red.

“I’d like to cum on them.  Are you sure you don’t want to play?”  He twirled the paddle in his hands and she took a step back.

“I’m sure.”

“Pity.”  He gave her body a final glance before turning and walking away.

Amy, what are you doing?

She tried to ignore her inner voice as she made her way to the bar in the middle of the club, but the damn thing wouldn’t shut up.

Go home.  You’re angry and upset with Mark and it’s making you do something you shouldn’t.

She slid onto the bar stool and smiled at the bartender when he stopped in front of her.  “I’ll take a whiskey sour, please.”

She had left the office as soon as she was finished with Rachel.  She’d tried to work at home but after the third text message from Mark, she’d turned her cell to silent and tried to nap.  Half an hour later, she was phoning Secrets and booking a room for the night.  Half an hour after that, she was at the mall and buying a dress that showed so much skin she might as well have been naked.

She glanced down at her chest.  The plunging neckline of the dark green dress left her no choice but to go braless.  Her nerves had made her nipples rock hard and noticeable against the silk material.  The dress covered her ass but sitting made the top of her stockings show.  She tugged futilely at the hem of her dress as the bartender returned with her drink.

“Thank you.”  She sipped at the drink.  A woman wearing a schoolgirl outfit drifted past her.  Her dark hair was in pigtails and she tugged coyly at one as she smiled up at the man walking next to her.

Her own schoolgirl fantasy flickered on a reel in her head and she immediately took another drink.  Maybe she could find a Dom here tonight who would play out that fantasy with her.

Do you really want someone other than Mark to be the first man to spank you?

What she wanted was to forget that Mark existed. 

What she wanted was to take control of her own damn sex life. 

What she wanted was to find someone to make her forget all about Mark and the way he made her feel.

“Good evening.”

She smiled at the man who sat on the barstool next to her.  He was tall with thick, sand coloured hair and dark brown eyes.  She knew immediately that he was a Dom and she stared at the scar that was slashed across the right side of his neck. 

Goose bumps prickled her skin.

“Hello.”

“What’s your name, sweetness?”

“Amy.”  Her voice was nervous and thin.

“Hello, Amy.  My name is Wallace.”  He studied her bare throat before his gaze dipped to her cleavage.  Her hands reached to adjust her neckline and he caught both of them in a firm grip.

“No, don’t.  They’re lovely.  Let me admire them.”

She dropped one hand to her lap and wrapped the other around her drink as Wallace studied her tits for a few minutes longer.  His gaze drifted to the green wrist band.

“Is this your first time at the club, Amy?”

“No.  Um, my third.”

He took her hand, his thumb stroking the pulse at her wrist.  “Are you looking for a Dom this evening?”

Tell him no and go back to your room.

“I am.”

His smile widened, and she stared at his even white teeth.  He was a very handsome man, not as handsome as Mark, but maybe if she closed her eyes, maybe if she pretended…

“What type of play are you looking for?”  Wallace asked.

“Oh, um, I was thinking I might want to try, uh, impact play,” she said.  She took a drink of her whiskey sour.  “Do you, um, do that kind of play?”

“I can,” he said.  “My speciality is Shibari, but I am well-practiced with impact play.”

“What’s Shibari?”

“Shibari means ‘to tie’ in Japanese,” Wallace said.  “It is the art of rope bondage.”

Her stomach muscles clenched. “Oh, uh, I don’t think I’m into that.”

“Are you certain?  It is a beautiful experience.  Those of us who are skilled at Shibari know how to bring pleasure to our canvas.”

“Canvas?”

“You, Amy.  You would be my canvas.”  His long fingers stroked along her collarbone before dipping down to stroke the soft skin between her breasts.  “The ropes would make such beautiful patterns on your lovely skin.”

His voice was low, hypnotic.  She’d never had any interest in being tied up but the Dom in front of her was oddly persuasive.

She drained her glass and set it on the bar as Wallace cupped the back of her neck and drew her closer.  “I would like to play with you tonight, Amy.”

 

* * *

 

The elevator doors opened and the man standing at the door of the club made a twitch of surprise before smoothing his tie.  “Mr. Stanford, I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.”

“Hello, Karl.”  Mark stepped out of the elevator.  Karl opened the door to the club. Mark scanned the room as the door closed behind him.  It was busy for a Thursday night and he muttered a curse as he searched for her.

He’d spent the last two weeks waiting for Amy to tell him she was returning to the club.  He had told her he would find her another Dom to teach her the art of submission and he’d regretted it instantly.  As the days went on, he’d begun to hope that she was bluffing.  The thought of another man – another Dom – touching her, made him sick to his stomach.

The text from Selene had dropped his heart to his goddamn feet.  He barely remembered the drive from the office to the club.  He was lucky he hadn’t gotten into an accident.

He scanned the club again, hoping like hell that she hadn’t already picked another Dom.  The idea that someone else might be seeing his Amy naked, someone else might be making her beg to come, someone else might be spanking his little slave’s ass had him contemplating a murderous rampage.

He made his way through the crowds of people and caught a flash of her hair.  She was at the bar and Wallace was sitting next to her.  Anger lit up his insides when Wallace cupped the back of her neck and drew her closer.  He stalked toward them, his hands clenching into fists.

 

* * *

 

“What do you think, Amy?’  Wallace’s gaze never left her mouth.  “Would you like to wear my collar this evening?”

She should say yes.  This was what she was here for.  So, why was she hesitating?

“Leave, Wallace.”

Mark’s low voice behind her nearly made her fall off the stool.  She pulled away from Wallace’s grip, hating the guilt that she felt and stood.  Wallace stood next to her as she turned to face Mark.  He was wearing the dark suit he’d wore at the office today and she glared at him.  He didn’t notice.  He was staring at Wallace and the other man studied his face.

“Whatever you say, Mark.”

“No, not whatever he says,” Amy said.  She hooked her hand around Wallace’s arm.  “We were talking.”

Wallace smiled at her and plucked her hand from his arm before pressing a kiss against her knuckles.  “Good night, Miss Amy.”

He walked away without a second look and Amy spun to face Mark again.  “Seriously?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?”  She retorted.  “It’s Thursday night.  You don’t come here on Thursdays.  Don’t you have some work to finish at the office?”

“I was working,” he said, “until I got the text from Selene telling me you were here.”

“She narked on me?”  Amy said.  “That’s so not cool.”

“You need to leave,” Mark said.

“I’m paid for the night.  You can’t kick me out.”

“Like hell I can’t.” He took her arm.  “Let’s go, Amy.”

She yanked her arm free.  “No.  I told you I would come here again, and you were fine with it.  Remember? In fact, you said you would find another Dom for me.  Wallace seemed perfectly nice and he said he knew about impact play.  I want to play with him.”

His face turned an alarming shade of red.  “You are not playing with Wallace.”

“You don’t get to make that decision,” she said.

“My club, my rules.  Let’s go.”

He reached for her arm and she said, “I’ll tell Luke and my parents about the club, Mark.”

She tried not to wince at the look on his face.  She was being such a bitch, but she couldn’t seem to stop.  “I’ll tell them all about it and what you do here.”

“You wouldn’t,” he said.

“Wouldn’t I?  I have every right to be here.  Just because you don’t like the thought of someone else tying me up and – and screwing me, that isn’t my problem.  I want to have fun tonight.  I want to,” she glanced at the stage, “watch the show and maybe get inspired to try new things.”

Amy, stop!  You’re hurting him!

Yeah, she was.  But hell, he’d hurt her badly and it didn’t seem to bother him.

“Fine.”

She blinked at him.  “W-what?”

“I said fine.  You can stay and watch the show.  But you wear this.” 

He pulled the thin black collar from his jacket pocket and her pulse raced.  He rubbed his thumb over the MM stitched into the front of it.  “Turn around, Amy.”

“I don’t want to wear your collar.  If I’m wearing it, none of the other Doms will come near me.”

“Tough shit.  You can wear my collar and stay for the show, or you can be escorted from the premises and run home to mommy and daddy and tell them all about your new little fetish.”

She glared at him.  Dammit, why did he have to call her bluff? 

He smiled at her.  “Make your decision, Amy.”

“You’re such an asshole.”  She whipped around and lifted her hair.

He stepped closer and she ignored his warm breath on the back of her neck as he buckled the collar in place around her throat. 

She hated how right it felt to be wearing it.

His arm wrapped around her waist and he held her against his body as he slipped his finger between the collar and her throat.  “Is it too tight, little slave?”

She jerked against him.  “Don’t call me that.  I – I’m not your slave.”

“You’re wearing my collar.”  He tugged on it.  “That makes you mine and I’ll do with you as I wish.”

Well, fuck.  Her panties were suddenly soaking wet.  “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Of course it was.”  His voice had deepened to his Dom voice.  It sent a shiver of need through her whole body.  “Just because you didn’t think through your decision, doesn’t make it my problem.”

“You’re still an asshole,” she said.

She squealed loudly when his hand connected with her right ass cheek.  It sent pain throbbing through her and she glared up at him.  “That fucking hurt!”

“It was meant to,” he said.  “Keep speaking so disrespectfully to me and I’ll put you over my knee and spank you right here.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she whispered.

“Wouldn’t I?”

He slapped her left ass cheek this time and she squealed again.  The people closest to them turned to stare at her and she flushed with embarrassment.  The Dom who had tried to get her to play with him the last time she was here, approached them and grinned at Mark.

“Your subbie is feisty tonight.”

He gave her body a slow perusal and she pressed back against Mark as his hand tightened around her waist.

“Nothing I can’t handle, Peter,” Mark said.

“Well, if you require assistance later with her punishment, I’m more than happy to help.”

She made a low sound of protest.  Peter and his hard grin made her nervous.

Mark just smiled at him.  After a moment, Peter turned and walked away.

“I don’t want him touching me,” she said.

“No one touches you but me.”

She breathed a sigh of relief as Mark tugged again at her collar.  “What do you say?”

She stared blankly at him and he said, “I’m giving you what you want, little slave.  What do you say?”

“Thank you,” she retorted.

The third slap to her ass was the hardest yet.  It sent another stinging wave of pain through her lower body and she jerked against Mark.  But, oh, under that pain there was a pleasure that she couldn’t seem to deny.

“Try again, little slave.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she said.

Her tone was undeniably sarcastic.  She tensed and waited for his slap, but he just smiled at her.  “You’re welcome.  Follow me, please.”

He released her and walked toward the stage.  After a moment, she followed him.  Most of the chairs were already full but there were two empty chairs at the end of the second row from the back.  Mark sat down on the chair at the end.  When she tried to slide by to sit in the empty chair next to him, he shook his head and pointed to the cushion that was resting on the floor next to the chair.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she said.

“I’m not,” he said.  “Sit on the floor beside me.”

She glared at him but sank to her knees on the cushion.  She yanked her skirt down and rested her hands on her lap as Mark reached down and petted her long blonde hair.  She refused to look at him, staring instead at the people sitting in the chairs.

A petite blonde woman leading a man twice her size on a leash, sat in the chair next to Mark.  The man knelt on the cushion next to her and rested his head on her lap.  He was gagged with a bright red ball gag and his hands were cuffed behind his back.  She stroked his upper back and shoulders absentmindedly as she smiled at Mark.

“Good evening, Master Mark.”

“Hello, Mistress Trina.  How are you?”

“Very well.”  She peered around him to study Amy.  “I see you have a new pet.”

Mark nodded before running his fingers through her hair.  “I do.”

“She’s a pretty little thing.”

“Thank you,” Mark said.

“Will you be doing any public shows with her?”  Trina asked.

Amy stiffened in alarm, but Mark shook his head.  “No.”

“Pity.  It’s been forever since you’ve done a show and I always enjoy when you’re on stage with your pet.”

“She’s new and a little shy,” Mark replied.

“Perhaps with more training, she’ll be open to the idea,” Trina said.

“Perhaps,” Mark said.  He petted Amy’s hair again and grinned at her when she mouthed an emphatic ‘no fucking way’ at him.

He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “That’s ‘no fucking way, Sir’.”

She glared at him and he tugged on her hair again before staring at the stage.  His hand drifted to the back of her neck and she shifted a little closer to him when he pulled lightly.  He urged her to rest her cheek on his thigh and when she resisted, his hand tightened.  She gave up and pressed her cheek against his leg.  He kneaded her neck before running his fingers over her upper back.  She shivered with pleasure and he rubbed the top of her shoulders. 

She closed her eyes, reminded herself that she hated him and tried to pretend that she hadn’t been craving his touch for the last two months.

“Who’s doing the show tonight?”  Trina asked.

“Richard,” Mark replied.

“Excellent.  He always puts on a good show.  Who’s his pet tonight?”

“Mandy, I believe,” Mark said.

Trina laughed.  “Well, I’m thankful that I’m sitting near the back.  She’s wonderfully responsive, especially with Richard, but she’s a squirter.”

“Perhaps we should start providing towels for those who sit in the front row?”  Mark said with a laugh.

Trina grinned at him.  “Might be a good idea.  What’s he doing to her tonight?”

“Spanking bench and the St. Andrew’s Cross.”

“Delightful.  Oh good, the show is beginning.”

Mark released her, and Amy lifted her head.  She strained to see over the people in front of her.  She was tall but not nearly tall enough to see over their heads and she frowned in frustration.  What was the point of watching the show if she couldn’t see a damn thing?

Mark tugged on her hair.  “Stand up, little slave.”

She stood and he pulled her into his lap.  She tried to sit forward and he pressed her back against his broad chest.  He pushed her thighs apart until her legs were spread wide and resting on the outside of his knees.  She tried to close them, and he slapped her thigh.

“No, leave your legs open for me.”

He cupped her throat above the collar and held her in a firm grip.  Not strong enough to break free and stupidly turned on by being trapped against him, she relaxed.  Her head rested against his shoulder and she watched as the curtain drew back. 

A tall man with thick grey hair was standing next to a large wooden structure in the shape of an X.

“That is Master Richard and that’s St. Andrew’s Cross,” Mark breathed into her ear.

A spanking bench was next to the cross.  The man picked up the flogger that was resting on the padded bench and held it loosely in one hand before holding out his other hand.  A woman walked onto the stage.  She had short red hair and she was completely naked.  Her small breasts were topped with large pink nipples that were already erect.  Her pussy was waxed bare and she smiled at the man before taking his hand and kissing it.

He returned her smile before leading her to the spanking bench.  She climbed onto it and Richard smoothed his hand over her ass before quickly buckling the restraints around her slender thighs and upper arms.

The woman was nearly vibrating with excitement and she moaned happily when Richard reached between her legs and stroked her pussy.  Amy watched in utter fascination as Richard slapped her right ass cheek and then her left one.  The woman jerked and cried out as bright red handprints appeared on her pale flesh.  He slapped her again, moving from cheek to cheek in a steady rhythm as she moaned and wriggled against her restraints.

Amy tried not to squirm.  Her pulse was pounding, and her nipples were hard as glass against her dress.  As Richard continued to spank the redhead, her pussy grew wetter.  What would it be like to be spanked like that by Mark?  To be strapped down and helpless?

God help her, she wanted to find out.  She shifted on Mark’s lap and moaned when his erection pushed against her ass.  He laughed into her ear and adjusted her so that his cock was pressing against the crack of her ass.  She clenched her hands into fists and tried to focus on the show as Mark’s hand drifted to her right thigh and rubbed.

The redhead was squealing loudly now with each slap of Richard’s hand.  Her entire ass was covered in bright red handprints.  Amy gasped when Richard brought the flogger in his right hand down sharply against her skin.  She winced with every blow that landed on the redhead’s ass and Mark squeezed her thigh.

“She likes it, little slave.  I promise you.”

“It looks painful,” she whispered.

“It is,” he said.  “But there is pleasure in it as well.”

She licked her lips as he rubbed her thigh again.  “I never actually asked if you’ve been spanked before, little slave.  Have you?  Have you had a man put you over his knee for a proper spanking?”

“No,” she said.

He slapped her thigh.  She twitched.  “No, Sir, I haven’t been spanked properly.”

“Would you like to be?”

“I – I don’t know, Sir.”

He dropped the hand around her neck to her left thigh and held it firmly.  Before she could stop him, his right hand dipped between her legs and touched the soaked crotch of her panties.  She closed her right leg, but his left hand prevented her from moving her other thigh.  He slapped her thigh again.

“Legs open, I said.”

“Sir, please,” she said.

“Open,” he repeated.

Squirming with both embarrassment and pleasure she moved her right thigh until she was spread wide open on his lap again.  He rubbed her through her panties and she tried to hold in her low moan.

“If your wet panties are any indication, you would like to be spanked, little slave,” he said.  There was amusement in his voice and she blushed.  He cupped her pussy with warm familiarity before staring at the stage.

The people surrounding them made her self-conscious and she squirmed.  “Sir, will you please move your hand?”

“No.”

“Please, Sir?”

He brushed his mouth across her earlobe.  “Your pussy belongs to me, little slave.  When I want to touch it, I will.  Do you understand?”

Lust throbbed in her belly.  “Yes, Sir.”

“Say it.”

“My pussy belongs to you, Sir.”

“That’s my good girl,” he said.  He gave her clit a quick rub through her panties and nuzzled her throat when her pelvis arched.  The tip of his finger probed against her entrance, pushing the fabric of her panties into it.  This time there was no holding back her moan and he pressed his mouth to her ear again.

“Someone needs to be fucked.  Isn’t that right, slave?”

She refused to answer, and he pressed again.  “Answer me.”

She shook her head in denial.  He made a low noise of disapproval and quickly slipped his fingers under her panties.  His finger slid into her to the last knuckle and her pussy immediately clenched around it.

“Oh God,” she moaned.  She tried to relax but her pussy squeezed him again as his warm laugh washed over her.

“My little slave’s pussy is so greedy tonight,” he breathed into her ear.  “Have you allowed anyone else to fuck your pussy in the last two months?”

She shook her head no as he slid his finger in and out of her wet pussy.

“Good,” he said.  “No one is allowed to touch, taste or fuck your pussy but me.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why?”

“Because it belongs to you, Sir.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss against her cheek.  His finger stopped its slow movement and she whined in protest.

“Shh, watch the show,” he said.  “If you’re a good girl, perhaps later I’ll give you the fucking you so desperately seem to need.”

His thumb was resting against her swollen clit and she moved her hips a little, trying to rub her throbbing clit against his rough skin.

“Stop that,” he said.  “I’ll decide when and if you get your clit rubbed.”

She twisted her head and pouted at him.  He grinned.  “Pouting won’t get you what you want.”

She didn’t reply.  Her mouth had dropped open and he followed her gaze.  Trina was reclining in her chair, staring intently at the stage.  The ball gag that used to be in her slave’s mouth was dangling from one slender finger.  Amy swallowed, her eyes widening in astonishment and mild disbelief.  Trina’s slave’s head was beneath her long skirt.  She couldn’t see his face, but it was obviously buried between his Mistress’ thighs.  Trina’s right hand was pressing rhythmically on his head as she watched the show.

“Shit,” Amy whispered.  She could practically feel her pussy dripping with fresh wetness.  The grin on Mark’s face sent another wave of embarrassment through her.

He sucked on her earlobe.  “You’re soaking my hand.  My little slave wishes I was eating her pussy right now.  Doesn’t she?”

“Yes, Sir,” she moaned.  She tried to move her hips and he bit her earlobe until she gasped.

“I told you to sit still and watch the show,” he said.  “Move again without my permission and your delightfully firm ass will be spanked tonight.”

An image of Mark spanking her flickered through her head and she thrust helplessly against his finger before freezing in place. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said immediately.  “It was an accident, Sir.”

“Too late, little slave,” he whispered.  “After the show is over, you’re getting your first spanking.”

That sent another wave of intense pleasure through her and she barely managed to keep herself still on his lap.

“Watch the show,” he said again.

She didn’t want to watch the show anymore.  She wanted Mark to take her somewhere private and give her the spanking he said he would.  The need to know if she would actually like it, if the pain would heighten her pleasure was unbelievably powerful.

“Sir, please,” she whispered.

“Watch the show,” he said.  “Do as your Master says, slave.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied.

She turned her attention to the show.  While Mark was teasing her, Richard had moved the redhead from the spanking bench to the cross.  She was strapped firmly in place with the restraints around her wrists and ankles.  Richard was lightly flogging her breasts and abdomen.  The flogger left red marks on her pale skin that Amy found to be almost pretty.  She took a deep breath as Richard lowered the flogger.  He whispered into the redhead’s ear as he cupped one breast and flicked at her nipple with his thumb.  Her back arched and she moaned in pleasure when he trailed his hand down her flat abdomen and cupped her pussy.  His thumb rubbed at her clit. 

Amy’s low cry of pleasure was drowned out by the bound woman’s louder shriek of delight.  The moment Richard rubbed his slave’s clit, Mark had rubbed hers.  She dug her hands into his firm thighs, panting harshly and trying not to bring attention to herself as Mark circled her clit before pressing on it.

Richard moved his hand away and Mark immediately stopped rubbing her clit.  Amy muttered a curse and then jerked when Mark slapped her pussy.

“Quiet, little slave.”

She bit at her bottom lip, her eyes widening when Richard flogged his slave’s tiny breasts before flicking the leather straps directly against her exposed pussy.  The woman shrieked, her tiny body straining against the restraints.  Richard immediately cupped her pussy again, rubbing her clit with slow strokes.

“Oh God, yes, please,” Amy whimpered as Mark rubbed her swollen clit.  She barely heard the redhead’s cries of pleasure.  Her concentration had narrowed to a singular thought.  She needed to come.  She would go crazy if she didn’t.  Mark was still rubbing her clit and her belly tightened as her orgasm started deep in her pelvis.

When he stopped abruptly, she pounded on his thighs in frustration.  He captured her wrists in one large hand and squeezed before slapping her pussy again with his other hand.

The jolt of pain almost threw her over the edge and she couldn’t stop her hips from bucking against his hand.  He pressed warm kisses against her neck and continued to hold her wrists in a hard grip as she stared glassy-eyed at the stage.

Richard was flogging his slave again.  From the top of her breasts to the middle of her thighs, red streaks covered her flesh.  With every blow, the woman cried out but even from where she was sitting, Amy could see the wetness that coated her pussy and inner thighs. 

Please, oh, please, she thought.  Please touch her.  Please touch her.

The gentle pressure of Mark’s hand cupping her pussy was driving her insane.  She wanted to come so badly that she was almost crying.  All she needed was one more stroke, one more touch to bring her to orgasm.  Her pussy was pulsing with a weird combination of pleasure and pain and she could hear the harsh sound of her rapid breathing in her ears.

“Please touch her,” she whispered.

As if he’d heard her, Richard dropped the flogger to the floor.  He slid his hand between the redhead’s thighs and shoved two fingers deep into her pussy.  He fucked her hard with his fingers as she screamed.

Amy made a muffled noise of surprise when Mark dropped her wrists and his hand clamped over her mouth.  His other hand rubbed her clit with hard, fast, and just-exactly-what-she-fucking-needed, strokes.  She arched, screaming against his hand as her orgasm roared through her like a freight train.  Her body shook and she screamed again, the sound muffled by Mark’s hand.

She collapsed against him, panting and moaning as he dropped his hand from her mouth and slid his other hand out from under her skirt.  He rubbed her thigh and kissed her neck.

“My God, Mark.  You really must do a show with her.”

Amy stared blearily at Trina.  She’d forgotten completely about the people surrounding them and embarrassment began to creep in as Trina smiled at her.  Her slave was kneeling on his cushion again and his mouth and face were soaked with moisture and, oddly, glitter.

“She’s magnificent when she climaxes,” Trina said.  “I missed the end of Richard’s show because I was watching your little pet come all over your hand.”

Amy groaned and buried her face in Mark’s neck.  Her whole body was still trembling, and a hot blush was rising from her chest.  Mark continued to rub her thigh as he said, “She is delightfully responsive.”

“Would you consider a play session together tonight?”  Trina asked eagerly.  “I’d love to play with her.”

She could feel Mark tensing beneath her.  “No.”

“Are you sure?”  Trina said.  “There are so many lovely things I’d like to do to her.”

“I said no,” Mark said.

Trina recoiled a bit.  “Forgive me.  I’ve overstepped.”

Mark waited as Trina and her slave left.  On the stage, Richard had released the redhead from the cross.  She was shaking and wobbling on her feet and he quickly wrapped a blanket around her before picking her up and carrying her off the stage.

“Where is he taking her?”  Amy asked.

“Aftercare,” Mark said.  He eased her off his lap and stood.  He held her arm in a tight grip as he studied her face.  “Can you walk, baby?”

“Yes, I think so,” she replied.  “I might have to take my heels off though.”  She was feeling a little off-kilter.

“Do you need an escort back to your room upstairs?”  He asked.

“I don’t want to go back to my room,” she said.  “You can’t make me, Mark.  You promised you would - ”

He pulled her up against his body and gave her ass a light slap.  She shuddered as fresh throbbing started in her pussy.  Jesus, what was wrong with her?  She’d just had an unbelievable orgasm in a roomful of people and she still wanted more.

“When you get to your room, remove all of your clothing.  You’re to be in the slave position when I get there,” Mark said into her ear.  “If you’re not, your punishment will be more severe.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“I won’t be long, so you might want to get moving.”  He squeezed her ass before pressing his erection against her stomach.  “Unless,” he whispered, “you want more than just a spanking.”

She moaned, and he grinned before pressing a quick, light kiss against her mouth.  “Go, little slave.”