There were people everywhere, and the loud beat of the music drowned out the hum of their voices. It wasn’t loud enough to cover the loud smacks of leather on flesh and the high pitch squeals that followed. My heart beat forcefully in my chest and I gripped his hand tighter as he steered me through the crowd of bodies. Exposed flesh brushed against my elbow; I felt exposed too. An unfamiliar place, the promise of a new experience caused a secret tingle to spread through my belly and down.
I focused on the toys protruding out of his bag, familiar objects he’d made with his own hands, Pinky and his pal the Brain, a skull-shaped glass bead on a thin bouncy rod, and a leather strap folded into a wooden handle, lovingly sanded smooth. He would soon use these tools to take me away from here, to quiet the noise that threatened to smother me, to remove the onlookers that would soon gaze upon my exposed body.
I didn’t know what was in store for me. We discussed my limits and I wrote out my list of wishes, but the actual event was to be a complete surprise. This was intentional, leaving no room for me to wiggle my way out, no way for me to over think every detail and pepper him with questions. I was simply his canvas, willing and blank, ready for him to paint.
He pulled me over to a large metal frame standing in the middle of the room, obtrusive and utilitarian, something you’d find in a gym with large grunting bodies smelling of sweat hoisting heavy objects beneath it. He pointed at my jeans and with a small motion of his finger, instructed me to remove them and kneel on the floor. I was wearing my Cum Slut panties, black with large white letters stamped across my ass. Everyone would know, but then again, I wasn’t the only cum slut in the room tonight. I had on a red crop top and no bra. The top was loose and fluttery, the silky fabric clung to my hardened nipples as if it had snagged on a pair of rusted nails. I didn’t yet know how he would use these bits of fabric, carefully chosen items meant to cover my body, to tease me along his chosen path.
First he tied my arms upward, rope wrapped snuggly around my wrists and secured above my head. Then he used his foot to nudge my legs apart, spreading them wide until I was stretched taut, tying each ankle to the frame on either side. I kept my eyes closed, I didn’t want to see the small crowd that had begun to gather around us. Then he wrapped my chest in a tight harness, trapping my top against me. I felt him step up behind me, pressing his body against mine as he wrapped his arms around me, one around my chest, his fingers playing at my throat, the other around my waist grabbing and pinching my soft sensitive skin.
“Are you ready?”
I nod, any words I could muster would be drowned out by the loud sounds swirling around us.
“Good girl, blue,” his hoarse whisper penetrated me, seeping through the canals of my ear and scratching its way into my brain, reverberating through my blood vessels, making its way down into my core, calming me, settling me.
Suddenly, he jerked the hood over my head, a violent motion that weakened my knees, and we were finally alone. He pulled the fabric tight against my throat, pulling at my face, his hands roughly telling me that he is here for me. As I sank down into myself, my mind opened to the words he would apply to my body with his hands. Mine. Submit. Feel Me. Love. I was ready to drink them, to allow them to feed me and nourish me.
I lost myself as he used his tools on me, applying them in rhythmic pulses down my thighs and back up again to my ass. Thump. Thump. Whack. Slap. Whack. Slap. He held me tightly as he tortured my nipples, tiny taps that sent trickles of pain bouncing around my insides. He pulled my shirt up through the ropes, exposing me to the onlookers as he continued his assault on my tits.
“They can see you now”, he whispered.
I leaned back into him as he mauled me with one hand and reached the other down into my panties, dipping his fingers into my damp cleft, before slowly rolling them down over my ass, showing my secret parts to the strangers around us. I was just a spectacle, one of many for them to ogle as they walked about the room. A girl with her legs spread wide and her wet cunt exposed, a man with large hands working his way around her body.
He pulled my panties up, beginning his dance over again. Impact. Tease. Expose. And again. I didn’t feel any pain, almost as if I was one of the watchers and not the participant, intermittent giggles escaped my mouth interspersed with moans and cries. My pleasure built with each touch, with each slap and pinch and grab, until I was nothing but a writhing, dripping piece of flesh, hanging meat.
He brought me down, holding me close as he untied me. He lowered me to the floor and removed the hood, seeing my face for the first time since we began. I greeted his smile with my own, a hazy grin paired with glossy eyes and messy hair. He touched my face and kissed me, squeezing my wrists, massaging my arms.
“How do you feel?”
I could only laugh, words couldn’t yet make their way to my tongue and past my lips. I motioned for him to come close to me, my wobbly arms pulling him in for a hug. We lay there for a moment, his sweat anointing my skin as my mind and body came back to me.
“Thank you,” I slurred.
Later, as I carefully wrapped up our rope, the DM came up to him and thanked him for such a great scene. He told me this after we’d left the dungeon to continue our adventure and my eyes teared with pride. He deserved that compliment. He’d earned it just as I’d earned the color blooming on my cheeks.