“Good boy,” the Domme said. “Now, bend yourself over this table, so that we can all see your gorgeous backside.”
Jamie mumbled something behind the gag that sounded like, “Yes, Mistress,” and proceeded to curl his lithe body over the nearby metal folding table, spreading his legs as quite a few people gasped, now that they could see the base of a tempered glass anal plug.
“Nice,” I said to Vincent, and glanced at Matteo, who seemed transfixed by the sight. “What do you think, boys? Maybe I should have caged and plugged you.”
Vincent and Matteo exchanged a look.
“I’m going to remove your gag now, Jamie,” the Domme said to her captive submissive.
I glanced at the name plate affixed to the curtain.
Mistress Slade.
Whether Slade was her first or last name, I had no clue. But I appreciated her showmanship.
Once the gag had been removed and her slave had thanked her for the honor of being free of it, Mistress Slade gave his ass a sharp spank, the noise echoing through the space.
“Are you having fun, Jamie?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Do you like to show off, my little cabbage?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Do you have a”—she ran her gloved hands over the globes of Jamie’s behind—“a spectacular ass?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Laughter filled the space. I could attest that Jamie did indeed have a spectacular ass.
“Let’s show everyone how that spectacular ass performs, shall we?”
Jamie groaned and shuddered. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Be still. You shall remain motionless, while I withdraw this plug and insert it again. Every time it goes inside you, I want you to count.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Bon. On commence.”
“Oui, Maitresse.”
Why does a soupçon of French words and phrases give a kink event that little bit ofje ne saisquois?
I found Vincent’s hand and threaded my fingers with his as Mistress Slade took hold of the base of the plug and pulled. As the glass device emerged from his slicked hole, Jamie made pitiful, vulnerable noises. The thing was wide—wider than I’d supposed—and long enough to fill him most thoroughly. People in the crowd gasped again as it popped out, and Jamie’s shiny ring retracted.
I felt a shudder go through Vincent as we watched Mistress Slade poke the toy at Jamie’s entrance then push it carefully in again, to the delight of the captive audience. Jamie groaned as the object spread him and lodged inside once more. “One.Un,” he said in a subdued voice.
Mistress Slade commended her obedient slave. “Excellent.” She wiggled the plug to draw forth more sounds of delight from her charge, before tugging it out again, to the obvious pleasure of the breathless audience. This time, when the plug came out, Jamie whined with apparent agony. Either he was overacting or he genuinely despised feeling empty.
“Shhh.Ca suffit. That’s enough. It’s going back in, but you’ll need to use your manners.”
“Oui, Maitresse. Puis j’avoir le jouet de neuveau?”
“And in English?”
“Yes, Mistress. May I have the toy again?”
