Auction Ch. 14

The corset was very tight, almost too small for her frame.

Ethan laced her up all the same, using his strong arms to haul the laces taut; by the time he'd finished, she could barely breathe from the constriction.

He seemed not to care.

Jennifer's breasts were totally exposed; the garment offered no coverage or support of any kind, its whalebone and wire serving only to accentuate. It punctuated the space between her full breasts with a spike of satin and whalebone, with a small silver ring set atop this spike. Ethan threaded a chain through the ring, its ends affixed to cloverleaf clips clutching her swollen nipples.

She hissed at this painful pressure.

He rarely used clips on her, oddly enough they seemed most prevalent when they were likely to be in public settings, but she'd come to adore them. Somehow they made her feel raw and utterly sexual, something to be admired from afar. It felt right for him to adorn her so, with satin and silver, like some raw work of art, stripped of her value save as a canvas for his talents. Jen knew that Kami didn't care for them as much as she did, which was why Ethan used them to punish the redhead, rather than to please.

For her, though, they were clearly an indication of his interest.

Other than her platinum collar and the corset, she wore nothing save a pair Wolford thigh highs; the Vichy stockings were graced with slender sating strings that affected a means of staying up. Jen had seen them in her old life, had coveted them but never had a pair; when she'd come to Ethan's house, she'd made a point to acquire a pair.

Kami had asked much of her to get them.

But Ethan loved them, so the price hadn't been anything at all.

Her pussy was utterly exposed, and throbbed with the need for his caress. She'd waited for him to set clips on her there as well, hoping with held breath that he might adorn her with another clip. He seemed content, however, to leave her pussy in its more natural state of torment, simply tapping her erect clit a few times for effect, and then stepping away

This practice of tormenting her without granting her any satisfaction, however, seemed like it was going to be the norm for the length of their stay in Austin. It was a state she'd learned to endure. Before coming into her Master's service, she might have thrashed and wailed with the denied release, but his patience and his whips had taught her that she had no will of her own in these matters. If he wanted her to remain unfulfilled, then that was his decision, and her continued duty to please him was thusly best expressed by her maintaining that hunger at a near peak.

Jen watched him select her dress for the evening, searching his face for signs of the stormy passion she'd seen earlier.

As far as she could tell, his displeasure was gone, though she didn't know why. Some dark part of her that she wouldn't admit to knew exactly why he wasn't displeased any more, and she wondered if the woman from the airport wasn't lying in a hotel room somewhere, spent from her Master's efforts. Was that busty brunette even now running her hands over the red heat of her ass, savoring the spanking he'd surely have given her? Was her pussy sloppy with the leavings of his lust, slowly leaking out onto starched sheets as she lay there, spent from their passion?

He tugged at the ring on her collar gently. "Where were you just now?"

Jen marveled at his ability to see into her; she met his gaze for a moment, if only to show some spirit, and then lowered her eyes. "Thinking, my love."

"Of what, pet?"

"I was just wondering whether you'd been with that woman from the airport, whether she was the reason you're no longer angry with me."

He laughed, warming her with his obvious mirth. "Jennifer, off all the submissives I've trained, I must admit you alone have continued to display a profound sense of candor. Most other girls lose that over time."

Ethan stepped in close to her, so close she could feel his breath on her skin. His voice was a whisper. "You have not."

She shivered, "Is that a bad thing, Master?"

"I haven't decided yet."

His hand twined in the silver chain, briefly sending sheets of pain racing through her. Jen moaned and forced herself to remain still. She couldn't tell whether he was punishing her or rewarding her with this attention, only that the pleasurepain was making her very, very wet.

How funny that a mere second's worth of his idle twining could leave her so aroused! It meant nothing to him, and yet she was suddenly a wreckage of insatiable desire.

His wrist rotated farther, the aching song in her nipples began to drown out everything else.

She whimpered, not from the pain, but from the building delirium.

Seeing this, he twined the chain another half twist, and then, after a moment, stepped back, apparently satisfied that she'd been chastised / rewarded for her honesty. He turned back to the closet and took out a pair of dark heels, four inches high and opened toed.

"Put these on and then we can go."

As she took the shoes, Jen willed her mind not to fall into the trap of questioning whether he expected her to be seen in the public spaces of the Driskill in just a corset and stockings. And yet, as he returned an obviously elegant gown to the closet, she couldn't help herself.

"Am I not to wear a dress, Master?" She slipped into the heels knowing it was a terrible question to ask, that it would surely displease him, but she felt it needed asking all the same. They were not on his estate; this was the real world, where the state of her clothes could have real consequences.

Ethan frowned. "Turn around and put your hands on the dresser, Jennifer." His voice was very quiet in the evening's stillness.

Numbly she obeyed, wondering what he would do.

She heard the soft slippery sound of his belt being removed, and smiled to herself. She loved his belt, loved the way he often worked her breasts with it.

On some level she wondered if she provoked him on purpose.

And yet the first hit surprised her with its intensity, making her cry out in pain – real pain – as the stout leather wrapped itself around the curve of her ass.

This was not a toying hit, this was a real hit, an expression of anger.

He thrashed her quickly, scoring half a dozen hits on her in seconds. Speed was a specialty of his, she'd come to realize. Her knees buckled from the pain and she collapsed, tears running down her cheeks.

Ethan's breath was suddenly warm in her ear, "I don't know what it is about this trip that makes you especially determined to anger me. But rest assured it hasn't gone unnoticed."

Jen stifled a sob and turned to look at him. He grabbed a handful of her curls and pulled her head back sharply, "I have half a mind to sell you to my associates this weekend. Kami said I shouldn't take you, that you weren't ready. I told her she was being foolish. It seems she was right."

Kami had said what?!? That she wasn't ready?

The fact that he mentioned selling her didn't even really register at all. That would come later, much later, when it was too late.

She sobbed, "Please, Master, I meant no disrespect..."

"I wonder sometimes." His hand released her hair, fresh spikes of pain shooting down into her eyes; and with that, he stood. Jen shook her head to clear it, and struggled to her feet.

"Now bend over and grasp your ankles."

Jen could only comply, the ache from the whipping nothing compared with the realization that he thought so little of her behavior on this trip. It was a thing she still marveled at, how the desire to throw off her old life and become a sexual plaything had intersected with her unresolved feelings for Ethan. The two had smashed into one another, leaving her with a burning desire to win him for herself – and a sexual hunger for him that overwhelmed her.

To learn that he was unhappy with her made her want to cry.

She craved him so very much.

She loved him, really.

As he'd known she would, she realized with a start. He'd known what would happen when he forced her sexual hunger into the same space as her desire for him.

Jen bent at the waist, ignoring the way the corset constricted and pinched her, and grasped her ankles. She straightened herself, forcing her body to conform despite the discomfort, and looked straight ahead.

He knelt behind her, examining his work, his strong hands rubbing away the hurt in a matter of minutes, transforming the pain into a delightfully warm heat that soon restored her equilibrium.

"Don't you want to please me, Jen?"

How could he ask such a thing?

"Of course, Master, all I want to do is please you."

His breath was warm on the backs of her thighs, and she heard him inhale with satisfaction, breathing in the heady smell of her wet sex.

"So then why do you suddenly seem to crave the attentions of other men?"

He knew! Somehow he knew she craved the attention.

"No, Master, no, I don't, I swear." The words seemed false even as they left her mouth. She was so desperate to prove herself to him; she would have said anything to him at that point.

"You're lying to me," he said with a chuckle. She shivered and waited for the inevitable punishment to begin.

Ethan's tongue was suddenly warm and wet against her asshole, probing gently as it scored its way around the ripples of her bud. Jen mewled and pushed her ass back towards him, savoring the feeling.

He lapped at her, his palms on the descending sides of her pelvis, his fingers resting lightly atop her pubis, terribly close to her throbbing clit, but so very, very far away, pulling her closer to him. She wriggled with pleasure, confused at this sudden favor quickly losing herself in his touch. She wanted him so badly right then, could feel her pussy spasm with need every time his tongue flicked its way across the top of her bud. He chuckled at this and moved his index fingers up against her swollen labia, wrenching a whimper out of her as new sensations erupted from her pussy.

The contrast between the two was incredible, different sensations, equally staggering, yet varied in their intensity, complementing one another to drive her quickly into a minor frenzy.

"Fuck me," she grunted, surprising herself. She didn't usually ask such things, preferring to trust in his pacing. But the encounter at the airport and afterwards had left her so desperately hungry for fulfillment.

He laughed and pinched her swollen clit with his left hand, sending a spike of pleasurepain through her that made her see stars.

"You belong to me, only to me."

She almost let go from the intensity of that spike, but weeks of training had told her not to let go until he said so. Her curls thrashed about as her head expressed the distress the rest of her body felt.

Unexpectedly, he withdrew his hands and his tongue and sat back, apparently satisfied with himself. She remained as she was, and soon enough received her answer – a slender plug pressing into her ass, stretching and filling her. In a few moments, he'd pushed it in up to the hilt, and gave her time to adjust to it before pressing a large dildo into her wet folds.

She shivered, knowing this was cast in his image.

"Ok, let's go."

She stood, loving the way the two probes moved inside her, and waited for him to place a blindfold of black crape over her eyes. The smell of him was positively maddening. The feeling of his strong hands on her face was positively sublime.

Made of crape, the blindfold's thin, silky material allowed her to see quite a bit, enough to know that there were people in the hall as he led her out of the room and to the elevator.

His hand was warm in hers, as they walked in silence, her earlier question unanswered save for the throbbing warmth of the welt on her ass. The murmurs of those around her serving only to make her curious, rather than embarrassed.

Her heels made no sound on the lush carpets in the hallway, and the lights cast a golden light that filtered through the crepe just enough to let her see figures to either side of her. Some were dressed in finery; some appeared simply to be staff of some kind.

Hotel staff, she wondered absently? Really?

Male and female alike, Jen could feel their gazes lock on to her as they walked. She held her head up, trying to take in as much as she could, trying to be what she thought Ethan would want her to be. And yet ... she couldn't help taking satisfaction from the fact that they were admiring her.

That most cardinal of sins to Ethan – pride – came creeping back into her consciousness.

Ethan would surely notice, would surely whip her again, but she could accept that punishment if it made him jealous.

His jealousy meant she'd stolen back some measure of control in their relationship. And that was a powerful thing to achieve; a first step on what promised to be a very long road back to making him see her as an equal.

Her mind skipped a beat ... did she really want that?

Did she want to be his equal?

Or did she simply want to be recognized by others?

Was his lust for her not enough?

She wasn't sure ... until this moment, she'd been certain that she wanted nothing more than to be his bound concubine. Kami was certainly a rival she intended to eliminate, Ethan's mandate or no, but she'd never before wanted anything but to submit herself to him.

What was happening?

Jen walked in silence, her thoughts heavy, even as she savored the way he shifted his right hand to the small of her back. There was the slightest twinge of air conditioned chill in the hallway, and the warmth of his light touch against her smooth skin was most welcome.

At length he stopped and she checked her stride to stand next to him; the smell of her own wet sex was heavy about them. The truth of it was that she was no longer really that put off by such displays. Jen had finally come to accept that she was utterly his to do with as he pleased, and had, after all that time, given herself over to that reality.

She did wonder that no one had confronted him about her state, but decided not to ask. It felt better to just be there at his side, naked and proud.

Alone with the weight of her thoughts.

The soft ding of the elevator roused her from the noise of her inner debate, and she followed him onto the car. Several couples were already aboard, and no sooner had she turned to face the door than an idle hand began to caress her ass, moving in slow circles around her taut cheeks.

Coming from her right, it most certainly wasn't Ethan.

Her pussy flooded with warmth at the illicit touch, and a new and dark hunger woke inside her.

She wanted more than Ethan.

She wanted to be ravaged, to be adored, and to be taken for the wanton woman she was.

She wanted to be recognized as the object of beauty that she knew she had become.

She wanted to be coveted.

And she wanted all those things from more than just her master.

She blushed with the realization of her wickedness, from knowing that her inner hunger would lead her to betray Ethan if she ever got the chance, if only to experience another's touch.

Jen let out a long sigh and pushed her ass every so slightly into that hand.

It responded by moving to slide one strong finger down between her cheeks, coming to rest lightly just above her asshole. She knew the stranger caressing her could surely feel the base of the plug inside her.

As if answering her thoughts, the strange fingers began to pluck at the base of the plug, not so much as pulling it out as making it move within her.

Jen bit her lip to keep from mewling with pleasure.

She wasn't meant to be used like this, she knew. Her role, her duty was to serve Ethan. And only Ethan.

But as a slave she was not to refuse the overtures of others unless directed by her Master; Kami had taught her that.

Slowly, deliberately, two strong fingers began to flex against the plug, pushing it up into her.

Madness!

She loved to be touched, to be validated, and had been having these cravings of another man for some time.

This hand, even if just a hand ....

"She's quite wonderful, Ethan."

The voice was dry in the close confines of the elevator, and it surprised her with its suddenness after so many had seen her but said nothing.

Jen's head snapped to her right ... blindfold or no, she knew that voice.

It was Starke!

All this time later, having never really thought of him in the whirlwind of her supplication to Ethan, and then suddenly, there he was. He'd never touched her once in all the time she'd been in processed, but she'd found herself wanting him all the same.

Of course that had been before Ethan ... she didn't want Starke now.

Did she?

"Thank you, Jonathan, I've put a good deal of effort into bringing her up to my standards." Ethan seemed very pleased with himself as he said this.

"Which are quite high, Master," Suchin said quietly from the far side of the elevator. Jen blushed to hear that voice, to know that a mere five minutes in the Asian beauty's presence had sent her running to this lifestyle, had led her to kiss a strange woman in a hallway ...

"You would know, my dear." Ethan chuckled.

Had Master Ethan trained Suchin, she wondered? When would he have had time? Kami had been with him since 2004, but he'd never said that she was the only slave he'd trained.

"Please take your hand off my slave, Jonathan," said Ethan, his voice even and calm in the silence. "She's being punished and doesn't deserve your attentions.

"Of course, my friend." With a final tap that made her jump, the hand was gone. Jen craved it, found herself fixating on the throbbing in her ass until Ethan's voice broke the silence once more.

"Yours either, Suchin."

"Yes, Sir." The Asian beauty's voice was almost a purr and Jen could hear her move slightly. What had she been about to do? Her mind burned with the possibilities.

With a soft ding, the elevator doors opened, and Ethan stepped off, taking her by the hand again to lead her into what must have been a loading dock of some kind. Jen smiled at the realization that there were limits to his powers of skirting decent society.

The night was warm, not yet an oppressive heat, but humid none the less. It felt delightful to be outside, to feel the night air on her naked body, to know that somewhere, someone could surely see her, and would be there, in the dark, wondering who she was, and why she was dressed like a slave.

"Is the car ready?" Ethan called out to some unseen servant, breaking her reverie.

She couldn't hear the muffled reply, but knew all was in order by the way he guided her down a short set of stairs and then helped her into the back of a large limousine. Starke and Suchin followed, and as the Asian beauty entered, Jen could see through her crape that Starke's slutslave was wearing a short chemise made of some metallic material. It glimmered in the halogen lights of the loading dock, and was visible even in the darkness of the car.

"This should be fun, don't you think, Jon?"

"Yes, I suspect Dash will make a beautiful bride tonight, and I know Matthew is eager to make her his own. Are you standing up for them?"

"No, not tonight. He did ask though."

Jen listened to the two men discuss the ceremony, trying to get a sense of her bearings as the car sped down the darkened streets of Austin. She'd been to the city before, of course, being a Texas girl. But it'd been years, and although she knew they were traveling south, she couldn't gain any real insight.

At length, hearing that the two men had stopped talking, she turned her head back to Ethan. Unable to see him in the dark, she simply waited.

"I believe your little project is trying to figure out where we're going." Starke's voice was light and amused, as if it were no great transgression.