Sense and Sensuality

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

I EXPECT DARKNESS, or at least subdued lighting, but find neither. The room I enter is well lit, and whilst not especially large, I can see at a glance that it is equipped with a dizzying array of toys and implements. I turn in a slow circle, taking stock.

A spanking bench dominates one end of the room, and a plain wooden chair, without arms, is at the other end. The wall before me is mirrored. My own rather startled-looking reflection peers back at me from the glass. I took particular care over my appearance this evening, but despite my efforts I look dishevelled and unprepared, my shoulder-length dark hair more tousled than artfully curled. My short red latex skirt is creased so I pull it smooth again, then adjust my black and crimson corset. I can cover my breasts or my abdomen, not both. I opt for my breasts, and twist to check the seam on my thigh-high stockings. Not too shabby.

I move across the room to examine the items hanging from a display rail beside the St. Andrew's cross. There are paddles of varying weights and design, whips, crops, more canes than I personally care for, floggers and all manner of restraints. I select a pair of soft leather cuffs and press them to my nose to inhale the sensuous aroma. My p***y starts to moisten in anticipation.

"You may put that pair on, if you like them, and select another pair for your ankles, Miss Barnett."

I whirl, startled, at the disembodied voice. The room is empty, of course, and the sound system carefully concealed. I can see the camera though, mounted in the ceiling, and I realise I have been watched all along. They probably observed me in the ante room too.

"I... you gave me a shock, " I announce, though the comment is irrelevant.

"I know.” He sounds unrepentant. “My name is Mark, and my associate for this evening is Greg. We are both delighted to welcome you to Vivant. May we use your first name, Miss Barnett?"

I note he makes no apology for startling me. I look up into the cameras as I voice my response. "Yes, of course. It's Jessie."

"I know that too, Jessie. So, please would you do as I ask now?"

"Could we, I mean... I'd like to actually meet you before we..." I pause, not sure what I want to ask for.

"You will come to know us well enough, Jessie. And we'll know you intimately by the end of this evening. For the avoidance of doubt, we both expect you to follow our instructions immediately and without argument or face the consequences. Is that clear?"

"But—"

"Jessie, be careful. If anything I have asked you to do is unclear you may request more information, otherwise just obey. Now." His tone has hardened, sharpened. The discussion is over before it ever really began.

"Right, Sir. Now." I fasten the cuffs around each of my wrists, then choose a slightly bigger pair and crouch to attach those to each ankle. I stand up and look back into the camera. "Anything else, Sir? Sirs?"

"You'll need a blindfold too. We left one for you on top of the spanking bench."

I nod and go over to the bench. The blindfold is leather too, padded around the edges to exclude any peripheral vision, with a Velcro fastener.

"Should I put this on now, Sir?"

"Yes, please. Then we want you to remove any underwear and arrange yourself on the bench, length ways. Get your bearings before you put on the blindfold as you won't be able to see anything after."

My heart is in my mouth as I place the blindfold across my eyes and reach behind my head to fasten the strap securely. My hands are shaking, the combined effects of nervous anticipation and fast-building arousal, when I reach under my skirt to hook my thumbs in the waistband of my thong. I peel the brief miniscule confection down my legs and step out. Blindfolded, I can't easily pick up the scrap of lace and put it away tidily, so I leave it wherever it might be on the floor and fumble for the bench. I ease my weight forward until I am lying face down along the length of it, the soft, warm leather comfortable against my bare stomach. I breathe in, as ever loving the deep, satisfying scent. I exhale, and I wait.

Several minutes pass, but I'm content to remain where I am. My skirt is so skimpy that just leaning forward is enough to expose the lower curves of my bottom. The waft of cool air which flutters across my skin alerts me to the opening and closing of the door somewhere behind me.

Footsteps, the brush of fabric, a rustle of paper. I am no longer alone. No one speaks to me though, and I remain silent also, alert, acutely aware of any movement in the room. It's them, it has to be. Mark and Greg, my Doms. Every nerve-ending in my body is attuned to them. I listen, and I shiver in apprehensive anticipation.

"I believe she's nervous." A male voice, low and matter of fact, and coming from directly to my right. Mark, unless I'm mistaken.

"Perhaps, but horny too. I wonder if she's a slut? Are you, Jessie? Are you going to be our slut tonight?" This must be Greg. His tone is softer, though his words belie the gentler timbre.

"Yes," I murmur. "Yes, please."

"Ah, good. We’re feeling generous this evening so we shall start by restraining you to avoid the necessity for you to concentrate on remaining still. We want to get to know you, Jessie, so we'll be exploring, testing your responses. You may like it, you may not. I certainly expect you to wriggle a bit. But you'll be going nowhere. Are we clear on that?"

It's Mark's voice again, setting out their intentions for me, though neither man has touched me. Yet. I manage a small nod.

"Speak to us, Jessie." Greg this time.

"Yes, Sir. Perfectly clear."

"Your safe words?"

"Red, Sir, to stop. Yellow to slow down or talk, or if I'm finding it difficult to continue. Green means all's good."

"Excellent. And right now, Jessie?"

"Green, Sir."

"Okay." Cool fingers fasten the clips on my cuffs to the wooden posts which make up the legs of the bench, then a solid, firm palm trails the length of my body from shoulder to hip. "I'll be placing your knees on the ledge on each side of the bench so you'll have to bend and spread your legs wide. Just relax and I'll get you in position."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you." I concentrate on allowing Greg to manipulate my legs as he pleases, fully aware that as he parts my thighs and bends my knees, my arse is raised and my p***y laid open and exposed for their scrutiny. He rolls my skimpy skirt up to my waist, leaving nothing concealed. I am already starting to pant. Wetness cools my heated folds. I swear I can feel my juices dribbling down my inner thighs though that may just be my over-active imagination. Or wishful thinking.

"Are you comfortable, Jessie?" This from Mark, who is also behind me now.

"I... I wouldn't describe myself as comfortable exactly, Sir."

"Oh? Is there a problem?"

"No, Sir. I just... I want you to touch me. Please."

"Ah, you're eager to get started, is that it?"

"Yes, Sir, I suppose so. It's just... the waiting is difficult, Sir."

"Is there somewhere else you need to be, Jessie? Are you in a hurry? We're keeping you, perhaps?" His soft tone has hardened just slightly, but enough to serve as a warning.

"No, Sir. I apologise." I ought to know better than to seek to hurry a Dom intent on taking his time, even more so two Doms. "I meant no disrespect."

"We know that, Jessie. But you will be patient from now on, will you not? We wouldn't want to have to take issue with you over this."

"I will, Sir, I promise." I gnaw on my lower lip, willing myself to remain silent until I need to speak again.

Several moments pass, then I jerk violently as fingers part my p***y lips.

"Be still, Jessie. Settle down." It's Mark again. His fingers remain in place though he doesn't continue until I am once more settled on the bench. "Good. Thank you." He slides two fingers right inside my moist cunt, then delivers several sharp thrusts. My inner walls clamp tight around his digits and I let out a groan. The onslaught of sensation is near to overwhelming, and they have hardly even started.

"She certainly appreciates that." The quiet observation is delivered by Greg.

"Seems so," agrees Mark. "She’s tight though and hot. Such a beautiful p***y. Nice and smooth, just as we like it.”

I bask in their admiration. I invested in a full Brazilian wax just two days ago, in readiness for this evening. My money was not wasted.

“No need for lube, I reckon." Mark withdraws his fingers and I am at once empty, bereft. He chuckles and pats my bottom.

He knows. They always seem to know.

"Don't worry, Jessie, we have plenty to keep you occupied. This, for example..." Again he parts my p***y lips, but this time he inserts something wide and smooth and quite cool. He pushes the – whatever – deep into my cunt, there is a moment's pause, then the pulsing starts.

"Oh, God..." I moan. "That feels... oh, oh..."

"Liking that?" enquires Mark, his tone casual.

"Yes, Sir,” I manage as my cunt starts to spasm around the vibrations inside me. "But I need to come. Soon."

"Not happening. You've work to do first. Any stolen orgasms will earn you a caning, is that understood?"

"Sir, I hate the cane. Please—"

"We know that. We read all the background details you so helpfully supplied. So, to avoid being caned all you have to do is obey. Simple."

It's anything but simple. They know it, I know it. I am destined to receive a caning this evening, the only question is how many strokes and how long can I stave it off for? I bite down on the inside of my lower lip and try to think of something else, anything else apart from the insistent throbbing right at my core.

"Sweet c**t. Beautifully plump for us. This is for us, I assume, Jessie?" Mark moves on, his tone still conversational as he takes my swollen nub between his fingers and squeezes it.

"Sir..." I let out a scream. "Please, I have to come..."

"That's unfortunate. Such a sloppy little sub, but I suppose if you really can't help yourself..." He increases the pressure, tugging and twisting my engorged c**t as I writhe on the bench, helpless to withstand any more of this torture. My climax grips and overwhelms me, the delicious shudders and ephemeral bliss of release momentarily over-riding all other considerations. Mark continues to rub and roll my c**t between his finger and thumb until the tremors recede and I return to this moment, with them, to face the consequences.

"Was that good, little Jessie?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you." The vibrator in my cunt continues to thrum and pulsate and I wonder how long before I transgress again.

"Don't thank me, little sub. You'll pay dearly for it. Eventually. Now that you've had your orgasm do you think you'll be able to contain yourself enough to appreciate a little anal fun?"

"I'll try, Sir." I squeeze my arse cheeks together. I know what comes next, and they're right about one thing. I would appreciate it. A lot.

"So, we'll get you lubed up then, shall we?" This time it's Greg speaking to me. "Mark, could you open her arse cheeks, please. And you, Jessie, arch your back to lift your bottom up for us if you would."

I do my best to comply, and my efforts must be satisfactory as I receive no further instructions. I wince as the cool gel hits my delicate rear hole, but I relax quickly as Greg works it first around the outer rim then inside my arse. I'm no anal virgin, not by a long way, and I always love this part.

My puckered sphincter soon relaxes to allow him to penetrate me with two, then three fingers. I sigh in absolute contentment as he slides them in and out. This alone wouldn't be enough to bring me to orgasm, but the sensation is still wonderful, relaxing, sensual, and utterly sublime. Behind the blindfold my eyes are closed and my contentment so profound I could almost fall asleep.