BDSM Manor Ch. 08: Movie Star by emilyagilbert,emilyagilbert

“I feel like I’m in a pantomime,” Alex said, gazing around.

“Or ‘Pirates of Penzance’ more like,” I replied, and he cracked up, turning around to grin at me.

“What?” he asked as I stared at him.

“Just admiring my husband,” I smiled, my eyes trailing from his messy slightly too long hair, his scruff, down his abs currently hidden under a very old T-Shirt, his hands shoved in the pockets of his loose jeans, almost worn through at the knees, right down to the tired sneakers that looked like they were about to fall off his feet.

“You scrub up well,” I joked.

Alex laughed again and walked over to me, deliberately curling his lip, and sneering at my polished shoes. Running his hands up my chest and gripping my shirt.

I had been in meetings all day and we had rushed down here to see our play space transformed before even dumping our bags.

“And you look absolutely edible in a suit,” Alex murmured, before kissing me.

I pulled Alex close and then when I had a good grip, I broke the kiss and rasped my chin over his neck. He gasped and tried to wriggle free.

“Oww, Fuck,” he complained.

I released him and grinned, I hadn’t shaved that morning. I usually had to shave twice a day but was growing out my slovenly pirate look.

“I don’t know what you’re moaning about,” I said making another grab for Alex, “I have to put up with your stubble all the time.”

“I do shave sometimes,” he protested, running a hand over his jaw, but then just laughed. Alex could get away with shaving two or three times a week, lucky sod.

He allowed me to catch him again.

“Are you excited a about drowning me for real tomorrow?” he asked, then “What?” as I let go suddenly and paced away hissing.

“What?” he asked again, “Come on Leslie, I was joking. Hey?”

I turned back and grabbed Alex’s head, resting my forehead against his.

“Alex, you have to promise me something,” I demanded.

“Anything, of course.”

“You are the fucking love of my life,” I said, half whispering, “I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“Hey now,” Alex gripped my wrists and moved back a little so he could focus, his eyes now serious on mine, “I was joking, the girls will take care of me you know that, and we have practiced loads.”

I didn’t let go, “I want you to promise, that if something goes wrong, if you pick up an injury tomorrow you will call a halt. I can’t risk you going into the water with an injury.”

This may have seemed like a strange request, bearing in mind that Alex was going to be beaten, gangbanged, whipped, and finally thrown, bound into the ‘sea’, but it was going to be rough and even with the planning and rehearsals, he could easily pick up a cracked rib or worse.

Going into the water was always the riskiest part of this scenario. I was having second thoughts at the last minute. Knowing that Alex’s character was meant to be beaten down, scared, hurt and yet defiant would make it hard for me to know if he was covering an injury and Alex was a relatively new pain slut, he craved it like an addict.

Alex pulled me over the bench and looked at me seriously as we sat.

“At the risk of being overly soppy, you are the fucking love of my life as well,” he said, making me laugh a little.

“I know that I concern you sometimes wanting to push my pain limits.”

“Yes, you do,” I admitted.

“I know I can push, because for me it’s like freedom, and I know you will rein me in and keep me safe.”

I nodded, understanding.

“I intend to spend the rest of my life with you Leslie,” he said and kissed me.

“I intend to spend the rest of my life with you Master,” he repeated and kissed me again acknowledging both aspects of our relationship and bond.

“And I do not intend for that to end tomorrow.”

I looked into his dark blue eyes and saw his sincerity, “Okay.”

He nodded, “Okay. If I am at all unsure, I’ll signal, you know my signals.”

“Yes,” I stood, reassured that he was clear on the risk, “Good.”

Alex stood as well and rubbed my back, “You okay?”

“Yes,” I smiled and stole yet another kiss, “let’s get out of here and take a walk.”

-X

We returned in time for dinner and found Keira and Casey waiting for us.

Tomorrow was going to be a big event, so we ate in our rooms, as friends rather than master and slaves.

Casey was excited as she had only been back a few weeks and was not yet doing much more than swimming.

It was too soon to say if she would ever be able to go into her pre-birth tail, impalement, and bondage. But for now she was just happy to be back and involved.

Pain free most importantly.

We teased her that her new tail was roomier than the old one, to accommodate her new curves.

Casey just laughed. A woman fully confident in herself, and the knowledge that she looked like a fucking Goddess.

Casey’s curves and Keira’s slender frailty were enough to rouse even my desires. They remain the only two women I had ever fucked. I didn’t see that changing; our bond was unique.

But tonight we kept it quiet and gentle, and I simply allowed all three of my slaves to give me pleasure until I was practically floating.

Alex, Keira, and I stayed the night in a heap.

Casey, it transpired, crept back to her rooms to enjoy the luxury of a bed all to herself and no one waking her at 3am.

-X

“I’ll kill the fucking scoundrel,” John roared, as Alex tried to make a run for it and was grabbed and thrown to the deck.

Up on his feet in an instant, he veered away from John and headed for me.

I lifted him off his feet in a vicious punch to the stomach and he crashed back towards John, who spun him and damn near knocked his head from his shoulders.

I dodged out of the way of the flying 6ft 4 mass of solid muscle, and Alex crashed back to the (imagine them) heaving decks.

John and I then ploughed in with feet and fists, kicking and punching, until our prey, the scurvy ridden traitor, was sprawled on the deck.

I rolled him onto his back with a push of my foot and signaled for the crew to keep an eye on his semi-conscious form.

So far things were rollicking along wonderfully.

Alex had been identified by the ‘first mate’ John, as trying to organize a mutiny and the two of us had managed to halt his attempt to flee and subdue his skanky self.

(Though if any of those punches and kicks had been real, he would have been half dead by now!)

Our Captain was not best pleased that a member of his crew had tried to betray him. Although the way he was grinning, you would be forgiven for thinking he was indeed pleased.

Master David was already having a great time. Helped vastly by the fact he clearly thought Alex was gorgeous, which he is, of course.

I would be lying if I said we were taking this seriously. So far it was completely barmy.

Will and Master David were trying to outdo each other with crazy Maine accents, at times it was hard to understand what they were saying.

John, Curtis, and I were taking the piss out of the West Country, randomly hitting anywhere between Bristol and Cornwall, depending on the individual words.

Alex hadn’t said much, apart from grunts and spitting some curses at us and the Captain, but so far it was his normal vaguely London.

Chris, for some unknown reason, had gone with Jamaican, and Kerry had stuck with his soft southern Irish, because as he put it, “Why mess with perfection?”

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