I sputter on my mouthful.
Okay, right in there.
Deep end.
I have been asked to jump right in. I'm not adverse to performance—I've done many shows, musicals, dramas, and concerts. I love performing. But this is a different kettle of fish altogether.
“You need some form of punishment for the stunt you pulled before we left, and it’s high time you accepted your
Yes, Miss
position. Do you agree? I've booked this stage, so it's the quietest one, a little more intimate.”
She gazes at me expectantly, awaiting my agreement, and as I look into her eyes, I realise I would give this woman anything. And I have; I gave her my trust and my obedience. So, if this is what she wants, I trust her to keep me safe.
“Okay, whatever you want, my queen. Your wish is my command.”
I suck in a deep breath to steady my nerves as I take her hand in mine. Her smile beams back at me as she leans over to kiss me, her lips hot and fragrant with a heady red wine. She takes my hand and leads me to the bar, where David, the watchman, has a tablet with all the stage bookings to hand. As she leans in to talk to him, I look at the stages to my left.
Soft lighting casts shadows around the small circular stages, two of which have couples doing their own scenes. On the first stage is a petite woman, her red lace underwear hugging her curves as she lays over a spanking bench. Her Dom, a wiry man in a sharp grey suit, trails a cane up her thighs, already marked with red stripes. Her body is totally relaxed and flushed as he raises his arm to land another strike. Her scream is not one of pain, but one of tortured pleasure, her gasps ones of a woman on the edge of her own climax.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
The screams fill the main room but blend with the deep bass of the music, adding to the atmosphere. I look at the audience watching the scene and see several couples doing the same whilst either holding their own conversations or watching the performance with appreciative attention.
I think back to how it used to feel to be on stage, performing, being so in the moment that nothing else existed, to feel the connection with your cast partners in such a heightened manner that your very being vibrates with energy. To feel all that on top of how surrendering to Isabelle feels seems impossible to contemplate.
The second stage has a man fastened to a St. Andrew’s cross, clamps in so many places I can’t even count from here. His Mistress strokes his cock with a gloved hand, as the other pulls on the chain between the nipple claps, causing the man to moan out in pleasure.
It's a pleasure that I can feel over here, and the atmosphere is electric. Various couples enter and leave for their own private room bookings, and the tension is building within me. The idea of being their foreplay before their own encounters is a surprising turn on. My skin tingles with anticipation, and I find I'm actually eager to get on stage. Isabelle taps my arm, and I turn back to her and David, and it seems they've finished their conversation.
Yes, Miss
“No more to drink before a scene, Sir. It's for your own safety,” he states before he nods and walks off.
Isabelle reaches up and takes my face in her hands. As her thumbs stroke my jawline, she presses a kiss to the tip of my nose in a move that feels simultaneously childlike but also sweet and comforting.
“I’ll see you on stage. Naked and ready to pay for your earlier transgression.” She turns and sets off to the changing rooms with a happy skip in her step, and there is nothing I won’t do for this woman.
The lights are dim now, and the audience have fallen silent, their eyes fixed on me. Down on my knees, hands tied behind my back, my naked cock is on display, clear for everyone to see how turned on I am.
My bare chest heaves with shuddering breaths. She is a goddess on the stage. She knows exactly how to draw the audience in with our scene. The audience’s voices hush to a whisper, drinks sitting beside them untouched. One gentleman sits leaning forward, his forearms on his knees, captivated by her presence. Even though dozens of people surround us, watching our every move, there’s an undeniably intimate feel. Just the two of us, as it always is and always will be, together through everything. I had almost lost this, her, our future, and there is nothing that will ever come between us again.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
She walks around me slowly, her fingers brushing delicately along my skin, leaving shivers of anticipation in her wake. She stands in front of me, her heels and stockings filling my view as I keep my head bowed, like I have been trained. The sheer nylon and her soft skin make me desperate to kiss my way up her legs, to hear her moans as I please her. Her fingers delicately trace my jawline as I tilt my head up to look at her.
Her black, velvet, corseted curves gleam under the stage lights. Her breasts generously fill her cups and make her luscious body even more defined.
She gazes down at me with her deep blue eyes that sparkle with mischief, making my heart and cock leap. I would do anything for Isabelle. I know this deep in my bones. I am hers, and she is mine.
The belt she holds in her hand unravels as she runs it through her fingers.
“Tell me, darling, do you want this belt? Want me to show my love for you?” She trails her fingers across my scalp, gripping my hair and tugging my head back, making me arch my spine. As she leans down, her breath feathers across my cheek, her lips mere inches from my face.
“Do you want me to make you cry out in pain and pleasure? To make you come like the dirty little man-whore you are?” she croons, knowing full well the answer is a resounding yes.
Yes, Miss
