Ally…

I jerked, pulling at my wrists, but they were held fast by the binding of his tie. I looked at him and felt a sort of fear for the first time. I think this was it. This was him with all pretenses stripped away. This was what he enjoyed, what he liked, and I didn’t know how to feel about it now that I was in it. This wasn’t at all what it was like in the storybooks, you know?

He looked me over, hanging there like a piece of meat and I swallowed hard as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Whatever was on my face must have told him something, even beneath the masks we wore because he smiled slightly and said, “You’re safe,” and reminded me that even though we were in unfamiliar surroundings that I was with him.

I closed my eyes and the panic subsided. I was with him, and he had never, ever done anything to hurt me. If anything, he had gone way out of his way to help me. This was no different. He was pushing me to expand my horizons, so to speak, but he was taking it slow. There was no one in here but him and me, and I could appreciate that.

I could also appreciate how his muscles moved beneath his skin as he pulled his shirt open and back off of his shoulders. God, he was magnificent. My eyes trailed down his ribs at the lettering there, large gothic script proclaiming ‘heart’ vertically until it reached his hip at which point the letters tumbled into ‘less’ as they dove into his pants, ending near his cock, which was tenting the dark material.

My eyes flicked up to his which held a cold heat to them as they devoured every line and curve of my body. I could feel it, like a very real physical caress, even as his hands reached for me, cascading down my flanks to come to rest on my hips which were clad in the black lace underwear and garter he had provided. He moved closer to me, hovering his lips over my own and I closed my eyes waiting for him to close that last little gap, wishing he would.

I would gladly die to experience his kiss and he so rarely let me have it. He denied me now, instead placing his lips under my jaw working his mouth down my neck once more. Where he had worried that place that made my knees weak before, he barely paid attention to it now. Instead, nipping his way along my skin, to my breast where he sucked the sensitive stiff peak of my nipple into his mouth.

I felt my voice escape me but I didn’t hear it. I definitely felt the fireworks scatter through my body at the intimate touch of his mouth, the sensation bright and flaring from my chest, in an explosion of sparks that fell through my body and settled in my pussy causing it to give one, long, slow, throbbing ache of want.

It was no less intense when he moved to the other breast, and the way his arms twined around me, gripping me against his hard body, bringing me off my feet and to his mouth. I loved that sensation. Loved that I felt so small and frail, loved that I indeed did trust him and the knowledge that he wouldn’t hurt me combined with the pleasure he was giving me made me go liquid with relief.

I let go, let him have me, and shivered at the satisfied growl that he let loose against my flesh. I opened my eyes when he left me, dangling there, but it was a short-lived thing. He fetched the chair and set it down in front of me, taking the seat. He looked up at me, eyes somehow deeper and even darker than usual through the black leather mask as he smoothed his hands over my nylon-covered legs in a warm, worshipping caress.

The intensity in his gaze caused the last of my nerves to ease and I watched him, looking down from where I hung, as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of my panties and swept them down to my knees. His hands went to my ass and brought me closer to his mouth which he used to kiss my stomach, and I felt my breath rush out as his intentions became clear.

His kiss fell on my mound next and his tongue, hot and wet, delved between the folds of my labia, looking for that tiny kernel of nerves that would drive me absolutely mad with pleasure.

I tugged on my restrained hands, the tie digging into my wrists. I wanted so badly to touch him, to reciprocate, but I was held fast, stretched tautly, and at his mercy. I gazed down my body at the light reflecting off his deep brown hair and bit my bottom lip. He tipped his head back carefully, dark eyes staring into my own as his mouth worked my body and I could see it buried deep in his gaze. He owned me. Maybe not permanently, but for right now, he did. Completely and utterly, and I cannot tell you how much that excited me. How much I ached and twisted and wanted it to be true. Not just for now, but for always, as long as he could make me feel like this.

I let my head fall back, my eyes shut, and a wild cry escaped me even as I felt my legs wouldn’t hold me. I felt him slide a finger inside me and I couldn’t... I couldn’t stop it; I couldn’t control it. With another desperate cry, I came, shuddering, the pleasure pulsing up through my body in time with my wildly beating heart. My knees gave out and the chain above me jerked and chimed as I lost my footing.

He stood, arms going around me, and held me up until I could get my feet under me though the haze of pleasure from the orgasm made it hard to think.

“Good girl, Bright Eyes,” he whispered in my ear and then he turned me around, to face our audience.

I balked, silently, eyes widening at the full gallery of chairs as men and women, elegantly dressed and masked as we were, sat and watched us. I tried to look away, but his hand was at my chin, gripping it firmly, but not painfully, the heel of his hand resting at my throat, his skin warm against my back as he pressed into me, drawing me back into him as he worked his belt with his free hand against my ass.

“Look at them look at you,” he growled into my ear, and oh god, I was looking, he didn’t give me any other choice.

“Those women want to be you,” he breathed, and I felt the head of his cock hotly brush my thigh at the crease of my ass. He let me go, and I heard a packet tear open as he rolled a condom onto himself. His hand returned to my chin and my throat, the other to my hip, pulling back on it even as he guided me forward with his hand at my throat. He positioned me, and his lips returned to my ear.

“Those men want to be inside of you,” he told me, and he pressed his cock into my opening, easing his way in. “But you’re mine tonight, baby. All mine and all they get to do is watch.”

He shoved deep into my body and I cried out, forcing my hips back to meet him. I wanted him, I wanted this, and I couldn’t believe how turned on I was meeting the audience’s collective hungry gaze.

He didn’t give me time to think about it, stroking in and out of my pussy in long and controlled rolling movements of his hips that left me breathless and stoked the embers of my last orgasm back to life. Fire licked low from within my body and leaped, flitting along my veins, desire fanning them into a wildfire that ate through me and rose quickly. I gripped the tie binding my wrists together with my hands and held on, bowing my body, presenting my ass to him, making it easy for him to fuck me in front of these people, these strangers.

I did what he told me, too. I looked, I saw the women, the heat in their eyes past their bejeweled harlequin masks, their parted lips, their gently rising and falling chests, breaths deepening with desire. I watched the men, gripping the arms of their chairs with mottled fingers, likewise leaning forward in their seats as if they could take one of my nipples into their mouths. And the effect was astonishing.

A low, desperate moan escaped my throat and I could feel the tension and jealous desire rise. I was choking on it, drowning in the power our sexual energy unleashed into the room and I swear to you… I grew drunk on it. I succumbed to it completely and I when I let go? I let go.

This orgasm was different from the first. It was longer in coming, and when it did, rather than spilling through me as if through a crack in a dam, it welled up as if a cup being slowly filled had finally run over. It filled me just as surely and spilled over the crown of my head, running in rivulets over my skin in a tingling wash of pleasure that made me whimper and go limp against the chain holding me up.

It was as if he couldn’t get deep enough, I mean, I had come, but it wasn’t satisfying. It wasn’t quite enough. I needed more. I needed harder and deeper and I found myself begging him with my hips thrusting back into his, writhing against my bonds.

I heard him chuckle darkly and there was a whirring sound, as machinery kicked on and suddenly the tension holding my arms high above my head slacked off. He unhooked me and pulled from my body, gently lowering me to my knees on the floor. He stayed behind me and I parted my knees and arched low to the floor, putting my palms flat to the stage, raising my ass in offering to him, and he wasted no time in filling me once more. The change in angle was perfect, allowed him to press into my wetness that much deeper, touching that secret place that had been begging for it just a moment before and I felt another whimpering, begging, little moan escape me.

He drove me wild, stroking deep with a satisfying grunt before grinding against my body a few times. Oh, when he did that, though, I thought there was some truth to the French calling orgasm ‘the little death’, because when he plunged deep like that and worked me on his cock, I died a little more each time, blissfully so. It only took a half a dozen or so of these strokes and I was coming apart again, bowing low to the floor, a thin wail of pleasure escaping my body as the firestorm swept through me and over me.

I panted, spent, against the stage, and his hand swept along my stomach, pressing between my breasts to bring me up to my knees. He walked around me on his own knees and turned me to face him, taking the bonds from around my wrists. We were turned, profile to the audience when he locked his mouth over mine, tongue plunging past my teeth and sweeping possessively into my mouth. I melted a little more, wilting into his embrace even as he palmed the outside of my thigh and encouraged me to ride him. The same as I had the first time, in his living room after I’d slipped from his coffee table into his lap.

I climbed him like a damn tree. I couldn’t get enough of his hard body against mine… in mine, and I wanted him desperately. I needed him desperately. It was as if he were the one thing I had been missing my entire life to this point. That feeling of safety, of being precious to someone. That a man cared enough to want me the way that he did. Not as an ornament or possession… no, this went deeper than that. Much deeper… and, oh, as he slid up inside of me, that felt much deeper, too.

I rested my hands on his taut, muscular shoulders and rode him, staring into his eyes and finding a match for my desire there. Something undefinable passed between us, a deep emotion that I had no name for. His arms were around my waist, one hand pressing between my shoulders to keep me upright, his other hand buried in the back of my hair, like before, locking into place, turning my insides into liquid as he exerted his control and brought my mouth to his. He kissed me like he would devour me from the mouth down and all else fell away ‒ the room, the stage, the people in it watching us and their arousal. All of it faded into the background as the world, the very universe, narrowed down to the man beneath me and inside of me.

I kissed him back, fingertips from one hand touching his bearded cheek where the mask didn’t cover, feeling the muscles of his jaw work beneath his skin as he ate at my mouth, taking everything I offered him sweetly and willingly. I wanted to give him everything. I wanted him to have all of me. It was, after all, the only thing a poor girl like me had to give.

He moaned into my mouth and thrust up to meet my downward strokes and I could tell, he was close. We both were, riding that sharp and silvered edge at the end of the very universe where everything was just one divide, light and dark, spinning so fast that when we fell, it would be a near thing on which we would fall into.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on him, the feel of him, the sound, the taste, the heat and light touch, the pleasure and the wonder. It rose in me like flood waters and with a cry, we both plunged off the edge of the world and fell and I still couldn’t tell if I were swallowed by the light or the dark.