I glance between the three people, noting their expressions. Hope from the lady, excitement from Riley, and…interest fromThatcher. Well, I already have on my sexiest lingerie, and the stage lighting is perfect.
“Okay,” I sigh. “I’ll do it.”
I can’t help but notice, as I leave Thatcher behind and follow Riley backstage, that the excitement that’s always palpable before I perform is missing. Instead, all I feel is unease. And all I can think about is my solnyshko.
Chapter 30
“Please welcome tothe stage, a very special guest…Miss M!” The emcee doesn’t have to try very hard to rile up the audience, and more people pile into the room by the minute to watch.
Mila slinks onto the stage and scowls at the audience, already projecting a commanding aura and making it clear that she thinks she’s better than every single one of them. And she is. In my eyes, at least. More beautiful, more deadly, more…everything. Just more.
“She’s here visiting for the evening and has graciously agreed to present with her slave.”
Well, he’s not her slave anymore, but I guess they have to explain their relationship.
“This useless waif isnotmy slave,” Mila growls. It makes sense, so that people in the back of the room can hear, but it’s still a disconnect to see her dressed like a sex goddess with a pop star mic on. “He’s here because he thinks he can give me an ounce of pleasure. I’m not convinced, but I plan to try my best to torture him until we find out.”
With a sharp tug on the end of the leash I now see she’s holding, Riley crawls onto the stage behind her. His head is down, and he’s naked except for a studded collar with a tag hanging in the center.Who put that collar on him? What’s on the tag?
Mila positions Riley on a leather apparatus, like a reverse massage chair almost. His ass is in the air, and his legs are spread, but his head is supported as he faces forward. “I refuse to touch this disgusting excuse for a submissive until I’ve completed a thorough inspection. He needs to be distracted while I examine him. Are there any volunteers?”
Men and women in the audience jump at the chance to take part, and Mila chooses an androgynous person wearing lingerie and sporting an erection. She kneels in front of Riley and speaks too softly for the mic to pick up before he nods, and she rises. The volunteer wastes no time plunging into Riley’s mouth and thrusting as Mila pulls on latex gloves.
By the time she’s finished with her inspection, I’m speechless. The volunteer came in Riley’s mouth and left the stage relatively quickly, but Mila…Mila has taken her time. An entire tube of lube was needed for her to poke and prod her way into Riley’s asshole, and the audience applauded when she deemed him “adequate.”
He must be loving it, because his dick’s been hard the entire time, but I…
“You’re doing very well, Riley. What’s your color?”
“Green, Mistress.”
Mistress?Is that what she likes? She never told me to switch it up from Ma’am, but maybe I…
“The slave is fit to be in my presence, but he was brought to me specifically for punishment. He’s been averybad boy and displeased his Master.”
Master?Okay, maybe that’s whose name is on the collar. Relief floods through me, but I don’t have time to question why before an X-shaped piece of furniture is wheeled onto the stage. After Mila secures him onto it, she turns to grab something from the table to the side of the stage, catches my eye, and winks.
I swear I’ve never seen fire dance in anyone’s eyes before, and the beautiful blue I’m used to is almost eclipsed by predatory hunger. She stands tall, her posture Amazonian as always, and brandishes the whip she grabbed off the table.
“This slave is going toattemptto atone for his sins by accepting a number of lashes decided upon by himself and his Master. The design has been left open to my artistic interpretation.”
Design?
After jolting at the first crack of the whip and resulting scream from Riley, I glance around, embarrassed to have been taken off guard, but it seems I’m not the only one. At least one person next to me flinched, and another submissive nearby got scolded for gasping when they were supposed to be silent.
If I expected any of the measured, moderate entrances into a scene that Mila usually provides, I know better now. She’s a master with the whip, her fluidity and grace breathtaking. Every lash blooms on Riley’s body immediately, his back, ass, and thighs all pink and then red as she finally breaks the skin.
With the first appearance of blood, she circles the cross to check in before laughing at what she finds.
“This slave is awhore.I haven’t even touched this pathetic little cock, and it’s weeping for me. All because I made you bleed. Do you think this tiny thing is enough to please me?”
“No, Mistress.”
“Is that why you let me whip you, hmm? You know deep down that’s the only way to be useful to me, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“At least you know your place. I can’t believe you aren’t locked in chastity full-time. Your Master and I might need to chat about that. Perhaps that would be better for everyone. We wouldn’t have to watch this embarrassing little thing get hard, and you could focus on other tasks instead of thinking about this tiny dick. Would you like that?”
