Faith Page 13

  “You sound disappointed.” This is from David, just returning from the bar with a jug of iced water and three glasses. He pours us each a drink. As he hands me mine, he winks at me. “I know you were aroused by the spankings I gave you, but I never got to see you come. I’d like to, if you’ll agree to that.”

  “I… How would you like to do that? I mean, would Ewan touch me and you watch? There, in the play room?” I can’t believe I’m actually having this conversation.

  Ewan answers for both of them. “Some of the time. And sometimes David would touch you and I’d be watching, or maybe I’d join in. You could have a cock in your pussy, and one in your mouth.”

  “Oh. Oh, right.” The image is powerful. And intense. And very, very tempting.

  “Or, if you want to push your boundaries still further, how about a cock in your pussy, and one in your arse?”

  I gape at him, wide-eyed. “At the same time?”

  “Of course.”

  “Which of you…? “ I fall silent, not sure just how to frame the question. Or even whether it matters.

  “I’m your dom. Your arse is mine.” Ewan’s voice is quiet, but shot through with that edge of determination that will brook no argument. I look from one handsome face to the other. David is an older, maybe somewhat more worldly-wise version of Ewan. Certainly he’s more experienced and he has mentored Ewan in the past. I know I can trust Ewan, and he learned his craft from David. Even without my own prior acquaintance with this gentle, intuitive dom, I have no qualms about my safety. It’s just, can I do this?

  It’s clear that neither Ewan nor David sees any physical problem. I can’t even start to imagine the technicalities, but I have no doubt they know how to achieve this. I have only to relax, follow directions, and trust them. In return, they’ll treat me to the experience of a lifetime.

  I really expected to take more persuading than this.

  I take a sip of my iced water. The cool liquid slips down my throat as I look first at David, then at Ewan.

  My dom’s eyes are warm, his expression calm and caring. If I say no, he’ll accept that, there will be no attempt to convince me, no further cajoling, certainly no threats. My consent has to be freely given, neither dom will accept less. I make up my mind.

  “Okay. Let’s do it. I have no idea how it’s going to work, I expect you two do. I’ll do as you tell me, but I need to know you’ll stop if it’s too much. Or at least that you’ll slow down.”

  “We’ll go at your pace. One of us will be monitoring how you’re doing the whole time.” David’s smile is gentle; again, no pressure. Just care and concern. Despite what I just agreed to, I don’t feel used. I feel cherished.

  “Where would we be? Not in public?” Please.

  Ewan shakes his head quickly. “No. A private room. A place where we can take our time, relax, enjoy ourselves. And pay you the attention you deserve. I reserved a suite.”

  “You were pretty certain I was going to agree then?”

  He rocks his hand to signify ‘maybe.’ “I hoped you would. I didn’t mention it before because I knew you felt awkward about seeing David again, and that would have gotten in the way, clouded the issues for you. Now, here, it seems clearer. Simpler. Yes?”

  I nod. “Yes. Thank you, sir.”

  Ewan pulls me close and kisses me on the mouth. He releases me, his grin all sexy dimples now. “Shall we go up?”

  Chapter Twelve

  David keys the code into the door of the suite Ewan has reserved and gestures Ewan and me to enter first. I’m not sure what I expect—a mock Victorian classroom perhaps, or something more clinical. This room is distinctly ordinary, like I’d expect to find in any decent hotel really. The room is dominated by a king-sized bed, a four-poster at that. There are mirrors around three of the four walls, two plain chairs, and a low table below a window. The blinds are drawn, naturally. There’s a blanket box at the foot of the bed, though I somehow doubt it contains much in the way of bed linen. I pause just inside the entrance and study my surroundings with more attention to detail. On closer consideration I realise the chairs are designed for spankings, and unless I’m much mistaken there’s a pair of stocks built in to the footboard of the bed.

  Shit!

  David follows us inside and clicks the door closed behind him.

  “Just so you know, as it would be unethical otherwise, there’s a CCTV system.” David points to the compact, discreet camera mounted in a corner close to the ceiling. “The club employs staff who do keep an eye on what’s happening so from time to time we will be observed. You won’t be aware of that though, and there will be no interruptions unless you appear to be in distress. Okay?”

  My mind reels at the prospect that unknown observers might be watching us. Watching me. I appreciate the thinking behind this, but even so it takes some adjustment to slot it into place. The submissive mind-set is a flexible creature though, I’m finding.

  “I suppose so. Yes. Yes, that’s fine.”

  “Charity, you should refer to David as sir. He’s your dom too, for tonight.” Ewan’s tone holds no note of censure, just of explanation.

  I bob my head. “Thank you for clarifying that, sir. I was wondering.” I turn to David. “Sir? I apologise for my bad manners.”

  “Accepted, girl. And by way of further clarification, Ewan is the senior dom here. As your master he will give you instructions and you will obey him without question. My role this evening will be to help and encourage, and you will make every effort to do as I suggest.”

  A subtle difference. I know I will be obeying both doms, regardless of the pecking order between them.

  “We promised you a spanking. I think we should honour our word. Take off the corset and your thong. Then kneel, please, Charity.”

  In that instant Ewan shifts. Gone is the tender, lover-like tone to be replaced by the clipped formality of the dom. It starts here.

  I reach behind my back for the laces of my corset.

  “Allow me.” David steps behind me and unties the ribbons, his fingers deft as he loosens the fastening. The front of the garment falls forward to reveal my breasts. I recall, for a brief moment, Ewan’s comments just before David joined us. Will I be experiencing those nipple clamps this evening I wonder?

  I have no time to ponder this question right now. I wriggle the loosened corset over my hips and glance around me for somewhere to place my clothes. Again, David steps forward; he takes the pile of red leather from me and folds it neatly.

  “Hurry up, girl. Don’t keep us waiting,” Ewan prompts me. I’m well aware I had better not give him cause to do so again. I hook my thumbs into the lacy elastic and slip my thong past my hips. I hand that to David too, somewhat mortified by the disgraceful dampness of the fabric. The musky scent of my increased arousal is wafting around the room. They must both be aware of the effect they are having on me, and neither one has so much a lifted a spanking paddle yet.

  I sink to my knees on the carpeted floor, and fix my eyes on Ewan’s shiny black leather shoes.

  “Good. Nice position.” Ewan leans down to place two fingers under my chin. He tips my head up. “Would you like those nipple clamps, Charity? Just to spice things up a little?”

  Ah, right. That answers one question then. “Yes, sir. If you think so.”

  Ewan nods. “I do. I have just the thing for you.” He slips his hand into the pocket of his dark blue denims and pulls out a pair of tweezer-style nipple clamps. He offers them to me. “Hold these, please.” He looks up at David. “I promised her weights to hang from her nipples. Could you see what’s in the chest, please?”

  I don’t turn my head, but I can hear footsteps as David walks to the blanket chest and lifts the lid. Seconds later he returns.

  “These should do.” He hands the items to Ewan, who just nods his approval.

  “She squirmed a bit the last time I clamped her nipples. Could you steady her, please?”

  I glance
over my shoulder as David settles himself behind me.

  “Put your hands behind your back, grasp the opposite elbow in each of your palms. Can you do that?” David’s voice in my ear is soothing, in contrast to Ewan’s curt and formal tones.

  I pass the nipple clamps back to Ewan, and position my hands as directed. This is something Ewan taught me, a posture that draws my shoulders back and thrusts my breasts forward. Very convenient for what he is about to do. I gasp though, as David reaches around me to take the weight of each of my breasts in his hands. I tense up, but his low, whispered reassurance soon relaxes me again.

  “It’s okay, I won’t harm you. I’ll be making sure your nipples are swollen and hard, then Ewan will clamp them. Nice and tight. You do like it tight, I hope.”

  “Yes, sir.” I lean against him, the pressure of his palms easing me back. His hands are cool, competent as he massages my breasts, the full, fleshy curves first, working his way slowly towards the tips. When he does at last close his fingers around each of my nipples, I let out a faint cry.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, sir. I just… I’m nervous. I apologise.”

  Ewan crouches in front of me. “It’s okay to be scared, Charity. We’re going to be pushing you hard so we want you to tell us any time you feel overwhelmed, and we can deal with it. This is going to hurt, but it’s a good sort of pain. You know that, don’t you?”

  I nod, conscious that despite my determination to do this I’m chewing my lower lip, always a sign of nerves with me. Ewan spots the dead giveaway signal too and reaches for my face. He rubs the pad of his thumb over my mouth.

  “Do you need a time out? Are we going too fast?”

  I lift up my chin, my resolve bolstered by his concern. “No, sir. I’m fine. Really.”

  “You’re better than fine, my sweet little slut.” Ewan leans in to lay a soft kiss across my lips before nodding at David. “Continue.”

  David’s fingers close around my nipples again. His grip is tighter this time, the pink nubs hardening and flattening under the pressure. I wince but manage not to make a sound. He ramps up the pressure, the increase slow, incremental. I manage to ride with it, accepting and absorbing the discomfort.

  “Beautiful tits, Charity. So responsive.” David’s voice is low and seductive, his breath feathering across my earlobe. I turn my face, rub my cheek against his shoulder. He kisses the top of my head. “Just a few minutes more, then we’ll be there.”

  I nod and somehow manage to relax against him, my body limp as David supports my weight. He continues to tug and twist at my nipples, the pain intense but just the right side of manageable. It takes every last shred of willpower I can call on to keep my hands behind me and remain still. As I’m approaching the point where I know my resolve will snap, David murmurs again in my ear.

  “We’re there.”

  Ewan has been leaning against one of the bedposts, watching my progress. Now he steps forward, the nipple clamps and weights in his hands.

  “Stand up, girl.”

  David releases his grip on my nipples and helps me to get to my feet. My legs are stiff, my stance far from steady. Again David is behind me, his hands on my shoulders.

  “Okay?”

  I nod. “Yes, I think so, sir.” I lift my gaze to meet Ewan’s eyes. He is directly in front of me, the clamps at the ready.

  “Keep your hands at your sides. David, the right one first, I think.”

  “Sure.” David reaches around me to cup my right breast. He takes its weight, offering it for Ewan’s attention. I glance down at the tip, swollen, cherry pink, still throbbing mercilessly. Ewan takes it between his fingers and squeezes hard.

  “Ouch. Please, sir, that’s too much.” I hadn’t meant to protest, but the words are out before I can apply my filter.

  “You know your safe word. Do you want to use it now?” Ewan pauses, his grip not loosening at all.

  I shake my head in vehement denial. “No, sir. No. It was just, I mean…”

  “Close your eyes if it helps. You’ll be able to feel everything, but you don’t have to watch.” Ewan sounds maybe a little less cold, but the difference is marginal. I opt to take his advice though, and allow my eyelids to droop. David’s free arm is around my waist, holding me steady. Despite what’s happening, I feel incredibly safe.

  I grimace, I think, as Ewan completes his task. The tugging and twisting on my distended nipple is excruciating. The metal is cool as he slides the two arms into place, then he tightens the device slowly. I reach my pain threshold and open my mouth to plead again. I don’t have to. He stops.

  “Good girl. Now the left.”

  David switches hands, and the process is repeated. I keep my eyes closed throughout. The second clamp seems to be secured more quickly than the first, or perhaps it’s simply that I now know what to expect and I’m managing the pain better.

  “Very pretty. Would you like to look, Charity?”

  I open my eyes to see Ewan smiling, his expression one of intense pride. And, just possibly, a hint of relief. My stomach twists, my satisfaction at having not disappointed him beyond anything I’ve experienced before. Perhaps it’s the presence of a third person, the sense that I’m somehow on display. I want Ewan to be proud of me. I want to be proud of me, and I am.

  Ewan steps aside to allow me an unimpeded view of my reflection in the mirrored wall opposite. My almost nude body is pale in contract to David’s dark clothing behind me. I am silhouetted against him, still relying on his support to keep me upright. My hips are narrow but pleasantly curved, my clamped breasts fuller than they normally appear, though maybe I’m imagining that. My nipples are large, elongated, adorned by the delicate-looking tweezers. They look pretty but in this case appearances can be deceptive. They hurt like hell.

  “Now the weights I think. Hold still.”

  Ewan fastens a bullet weight to each clamp, just above the clip. The effect is to put a constant pressure on my already sore tips, a pressure that intensifies every time I move as the weights swing from my breasts.

  “Go over to the bed and take hold of one of the posts. Lean forward and stick your arse out.”

  Ewan’s instructions are succinct and clear. I make my unsteady way across the few feet of carpet to take hold of the nearest post, at the foot of the bed. I lean on it, trapping the weights between the post and my body to stop them swinging. I arch my back slightly.

  “Charity, you know better than that. This is a spanking, not a bloody waltz. Bend right over, lift your bum up. I want to see those weights swinging like two pendulums. Spread your legs too. We want to see that sweet tush of yours. Show us your pussy, girl. Show us what a wet little slut you are.”

  “I am wet, sir. I swear I am.”

  “Show me. Now.”

  With a groan I shift into the position he’s described. I widen my stance, placing my feet maybe a yard from the post and leaning forward to hold on. I bend at the waist, arching my back to lift my bare bottom up for them to spank. My thighs are spread as wide as I’m able, the air cool against my wet cunt. The weights do indeed dangle unrestrained from my distended nipples. The pain is indescribable, constant now rather than intermittent. In this position I can do nothing to protect my nipples, and once Ewan and David start to spank me I know it will be much worse.

  Even so, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.

  I look over my shoulder as David again opens the blanket chest. This time he selects two spanking paddles. He hands one to Ewan.

  “What do you think? Not too heavy? You know how she likes this.”

  Ewan tests the flexible silicone in his hands, then tries a couple of experimental slaps against his thigh. “She prefers a good, hard spanking. I’ve used heavier on her. But these will do, I think.” He grins at David. “After all, I seem to remember someone once telling me it’s really all in the wrist action.”

  “Good. Glad you remembered that. Shows my effort
s weren’t wasted on you.” He turns to me. “We really shouldn’t keep your little sub waiting.”

  “Indeed.” Ewan moves to stand behind me. I’m straining my neck to keep him in view. I know David has taken up a similar position on the other side, though I can’t see him. “This isn’t a punishment, Charity. You only need to say when you’ve had enough and we’ll stop. So, are you ready?”

  “Yes, sir. Except, I wonder…”

  He waits, patient. I fall silent, unsure if I should continue.

  “You wonder what, Charity?”

  “I want to come, sir. Now. Could you… one of you…?”

  “You want one of us to finger-fuck you before your spanking? Is that it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I don’t see any problem with that. David? Would you?”

  I cry out in blessed relief as two thick fingers sink into my waiting pussy. I writhe my hips in appreciation, oblivious now to the weights pulling at my tits. I tighten my inner muscles around the fingers rubbing my G-spot.

  “I want her to come fast and hard. And Charity, look at me while it’s happening. Eyes on me, girl.”

  “Sir, I…”

  “Look at me.” The order is curt, the tone of authority unmistakeable. Disobedience is unthinkable. I open my eyes and lift my chin. Ewan is leaning against the other bedpost, the paddle still dangling from his fingers. His expression is stern. “Those are David’s fingers in your cunt, but I’m the one controlling what happens to you, and how it happens. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes, sir. You’re in control.” I shiver as David’s fingers work their unerring magic inside me. My orgasm is building, unstoppable.

  “Right. I’m in control, and I’ll take care of you. You know that too, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.” My pussy spasms around the skilled fingers, twisting and scissoring against my inner walls.

  “Come now, girl. Come for me.”

  “Yes, I… Aagh.” I lurch forward, and narrowly avoid losing my grip on the polished wood of the bed post as David pushes me past the point of no return. My body convulses, my hips bucking as the waves of pleasure sweep away all other considerations. Except for Ewan. Not once, not for one moment, through the perfect storm of pure sensation pulsing through me, not once do I break eye contact.