Victoria–curly, shoulder length brown hair framing a narrow, cute face with cold, amber eyes–shut a drawer with a crisp snap and approached Glorian and Ilya. Silently, everyone seated at the table watched as if it were a performance, some kind of entertainment.
They’re about to do something to my body, Ilya thought in a panic, and they think it’s entertainment? Who are these people?
“Slave boy,” Reya calls to Sebastian, “finish serving beverages to our friends and then meet me over there.” She gestures with a nod of her head to the corner of the room. The one with the giant St. Andrew’s cross in it. Sebastian looks up from handing a can of hard cider to Ingrid, then follows Reya’s gaze to the imposing, wooden ‘X’.
Emma gapes, then covers her open mouth with her hand. Her face has a look of ‘oh shit’ on it. She exchanges glances with Silus, whose eyes glitter with excited apprehension.
“Aw, but Sebastian hasn’t spilled anything,” Yuna protests lightheartedly. “He’s been a perfect slave boy.”
“Mmhmm. He has,” agrees Reya, looking Sebastian over. “Cute and perfect in every way. But I’ve been itching to flog his body for a while now. And since I’m the boss, I get what I want.” Yuna giggles in response, clearly appreciating Reya’s confident dominance.
To Ilya’s surprise, Victoria produced a small, silver key and unlocked both her wrist bonds and the chains hobbling her legs. This unexpected turn only made Ilya more nervous. Handing a coil of rope to Glorian, Victoria unspooled another and began tying it to the leather cuff around one of her wrists. Glorian followed suit with the other. Ilya looked at the seated guests with Mistress at their head, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She felt terribly vulnerable. They watched her dispassionately.
Moments later, Ilya felt her arms hauled up toward the ceiling under tension as Glorian and Victoria, standing on chairs, threaded the working end of the ropes they had tied to her wrists through metal hooks fastened into the ceiling. Ilya had not noticed them before, but instantly recognized their purpose. In a moment, Ilya found herself standing, facing the table, with her arms stretched out and toward the ceiling, her body in a ‘Y’ shape.
This position made her breasts feel all the more exposed, but she didn’t have much time to dwell on it. As soon as she was finished tying Ilya to the ceiling, Victoria stepped behind her, tucked her fingers into the waist of her tiny, black panties, and pulled down. Ilya gasped as she suddenly felt her underwear stripped off of her. Skimpy as they were, she nonetheless felt incredibly exposed and bare, now entirely naked in front of the dinner guests.
“Step out,” came Victoria’s cold, crisp command. As if by reflex, Ilya obeyed, stepping out of the panties lying loose around her ankles. Ilya felt Victoria place her boot against the inside of her left leg, then push hard toward the left. Ilya’s foot slid across the smooth, tile floor. She staggered, but the ropes binding her wrists to the ceiling held her up.
“Oh!”
Immediately after, Victoria repeated the same movement on Ilya’s right side. This time Ilya managed not to cry out, but now her body was in an ‘X’–her crotch exposed and her ass slightly upturned as she struggled to balance in this new position. Mistress’ guests looked on silently with expressions of apathy and mild amusement on their faces.
Next, her captors knelt and bound ropes around Ilya’s ankles, pulling the working ends away from her once done and fastening them to a marble pillar on one side and a foot of the chest of drawers on the other. Ilya felt like she was being stretched apart, with her naked crotch and torso suspended in the middle. She pulled at the ropes, groaning softly as she tried to balance the tension on her arms and legs.
Pushing Sebastian against the dark, stained wood, Reya leans in and nibbles softly on his ear. Sebastian moans every so softly in reply. She places her hands on his sides, slides them slowly down to his waist, then his hips. In a sudden movement, she mimics Victoria by snagging the waistband of his underwear with her fingers and pulling sharply down.
Sebastian gasps in embarrassment. Facing away from the room, his erection is mostly concealed, but his bare ass is there for all to see. A distinct speedo tan line is obvious.
Reya steps back dramatically after stripping her sub to allow everyone an unimpeded view of his body. After leaving him a spectacle for 20 or 30 seconds, Reya returns with rope–obviously hemp from the farm-like smell it gave off–and ties a length around each of Sebastian’s wrists and ankles. Then, taking his left wrist, she draws it up to the metal ring in the upper-left corner of the cross. Holding it pinned there for a moment, she presses her body against Sebastian’s, buries her nose to the crook in his neck, and breathes in deeply. Sebastian shudders slightly and sighs.
Reya now gets to business, quickly and effectively binding her sub’s wrists and ankles to the four corners of Ingrid’s bondage device. Stretched out like this, Sebastian can do little more than wiggle his body a bit. Reya gently places her fingers between the cheeks of his ass, drawing another gasp of surprise and pleasure from him. With a smile of satisfaction, Reya walks to her bag of toys and withdraws a leather flogger.
“Ooooh!” Yuna drools. her eyes go wide like a child’s in a toy store. “That’s gorgeous!”
“Why thanks,” Reya replied in her sly drawl.
“That really is beautiful, Reya,” Ingrid agrees, eyes fixed to the flogger. It has a round pommel and hilt of woven, black leather. The handle is made of the same material, but interwoven with red chevrons. The tails protruding from the hilt are thick and made of red felt.
“Can I feel it?” asks Yuna with glee.
“Yuna,” Ingrid gently remonstrates. “She’s in the middle of a scene. And that’s her implement, not a toy.” Yuna, whose hand had been reaching toward the felt tails, pulls her arms back in toward her body like a chastised child.
Reya laughs. “Naw, it’s all good,” she soothes as she hands the flogger to Yuna. “Take a look.” While Yuna ogles the flogger with Emma eagerly leaning over her shoulder to get a better look, Reya pulls a short, black rubber bar with straps from her bag and walks back to Sebastian. Without warning, she brings the bar over his head and pulls it back between his teeth as far as it will go.
Preoccupied with finding her balance, Ilya tasted the gag before she saw it. It smelled of leather and tasted bitter. It felt like a horse’s bit–a horizontal bar of leather pulled back as deeply into her mouth as it would go. Helpless to do otherwise, she bit down on it.
“Grrllnnggrrllngmmff!”
To Ilya’s surprise, no one made a snide comment on the pathetic noises she made. Apparently, whoever these people were, gagging your slave before having your way with them was simply par for the course, nothing worry of even so much as a derisive snort. Ilya’s breathing grew more rapid and shallow. Feeling panic taking hold, Ilya tried to calm herself by watching the pretty, blue jewel in her belly button go in and out, in and out.