Learning the Rules Ch. 10

[Hello kittens! It's penultimate chapter time! ...and there's a familiar face to spot if you've read RAMTBB... Enjoy! EG x]

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Polite notice: this, is chapter *ten* of an eleven-chapter novella.

Personally? I think the chapters are infinitely more enjoyable read in order, but of course I'm not going to police how you enjoy your smut!

(It's also a prequel to the first story I shared -- it works as a standalone story too, but parts of this chapter will be more meaningful if you've already read Rules are Made to be Broken.)

Too busy to catch up? Here's where we're at:

Jessica, is coming to the end of her week of training to be a submissive call girl. Tonight, her teacher, Mr Swift, has taken her back to the BDSM club they visited in Chapter 6... she's already served one new Dominant Master, now it's time for number two...

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'What a delightful treat to walk in to.' The voice that comes from the door as it closes is rich and low, refined and undeniably commanding.

My insatiable pussy clenches at the sound of it. I steel myself inwardly as the owner of the voice crosses to stand in front of me. His shoes are impeccably shiny and his dark charcoal trousers look expensively tailored.

'Stand up, Amber.'

A strange jolt of electric pleasure rolls through me at hearing my new name and I stand up quickly, keeping my eyes cast down. The man in front of me reaches forward to tilt my chin up and make me look at him.

'A delight, indeed.' He muses, appraising me. 'My name, is Mr Smith. You may address me by that name, or as Sir, is that clear Amber?' he croons softly,

'Yes, Mr Smith.' I reply softly, very aware of the huskiness in my own voice. Mr Smith is quite alarmingly attractive in a cool, domineering sort of way.

He's easily over six foot tall, with dark brown eyes and elegantly styled silver-grey hair. His chiselled jaw is sprinkled with short, immaculately groomed stubble -- the sort that likely keeps an expensive barber well paid, as opposed to a tell-tale sign of a rushed morning with no time to shave.

He looks a little like George Clooney in those adverts where he's always sipping espresso. I find myself thinking he's going to be very easy to submit to and only feel very slightly shamed by the thought.

Mr Smith strides across the room towards the armchair, beckoning me with two fingers to follow. As he makes himself comfortable in the chair, I stand impassively, willing myself not to fidget.

'Strip for me, Amber.' He commands plainly.

That buzz of excitement at hearing my new name makes itself known again as I reach for the zip on my dress. I ease it down slowly and let the fabric fall to the floor. I hear Mr Smith murmur his approval and my confidence swells, along with my hard nipples.

'Now, come and put yourself across my lap.' He says casually, patting his right thigh. For half a second, I'm thrown, but my instincts kick in and I do as I'm told, as elegantly as I can manage, so that my naked midriff is pressed against his suited thighs and my ass is high in the air I rest my arms lightly on the arm of the chair and find I'm feeling a little disappointed that Oliver took my jewelled butt plug away with him.

'You have a delightful ass too, Amber.' Mr Smith's voice is full of carnal intent as he smooths his palm over my curves, making me moan softly, 'though I'd like to see it a little pinker.' Before I can really wonder what he means, his palm lands sharply on my left cheek and again on my right in quick succession. He repeats the process twice more without warning, leaving me gasping softly.

'Hmm. Going to take more than that.' He says more to himself than me, stroking my stinging cheeks lightly. 'Amber, crawl to the dresser and have a look in the bottom drawer, bring me whatever you find.' He says, spanking me once more, hard.

Slightly bewildered, I get off his lap and onto my hands and knees, grateful that the carpet is plush and seems to be clean. When I open the drawer, I have to swallow my own moan of desire.

I crawl back to Mr Smith and hand him the large black leather paddle.

'Good girl, Amber.' He smirks deviantly, 'As you were.' He adds, gesturing to his lap and I resume my position, trying not to look too eager.

The first blow lands squarely across both my cheeks at once and makes me cry out in a strangled yelp. Mr Smith's paddle is larger and heavier than Oliver's and it stings like a bitch. A second painful swat lands on my left cheek, followed by a third on my right, making my body jerk involuntarily. Mr Smith curls an arm underneath me, roughly cupping my breasts.

'Keep still, Amber.' Mr Smith's voice is cool and unaffected by my anguish. 'I am going to paddle your lovely behind thirty times. If you're a good girl, and keep still for me, when I'm finished, I will make you come. If you keep wriggling, I may lose count and need to start over. Do I make myself clear?' he asks calmly.

'Yes, Mr Smith. I manage to choke back breathlessly.

'Good girl. Then I'll begin.' He croons. Ridiculously, I find myself wondering then if he means thirty on each cheek or in total, but there's no time for discussion as Mr Smith starts paddling my bare behind mercilessly and my thoughts are drowned out by the sound of my own painful cries and the paddle smacking repeatedly against my ass.

Whatever the case, I lose count after eleven strokes anyway. That's when the searing pain starts to bloom into a deep, intimate pleasure like I've never known. It's as though my body has its own defence mechanism to block out the pain -- by scooping it up and converting it into pure deviant desire instead.

By the time Mr Smith tosses his paddle to one side, my cries have become animalistic moans of pleasure and my pussy is creaming shamelessly, desperate for attention.

'You took that very well, Amber,' he murmurs, stroking my burning cheeks tenderly, 'and your ass responds with the most charming shade of pink.' He goes on. I can only mewl softly in reply. 'Would you like to come for me now?' that gets my attention though.

'Oh, yes please, Sir.' I purr, feeling more and more comfortable across this man's lap. Keeping me in position, Mr Smith curls two long fingers into my dripping pussy and starts circling them slowly, making me moan wantonly with delight.

'More?' he taunts softly and I nod against my arms, draped over the arm of the chair,

'Yes please, Sir.' I smile, lost in his exquisite fingering. He adds a third finger easily and starts working them in and out of me firmly, until I'm panting breathlessly.

'Come for me, Amber.' He says plainly, effortlessly sliding his thumb up my ass too, and I do. I come undone around his hand, crying out in delight, letting wave after wave of release flow through me while he keeps fingering me deeply throughout.

When my breathing starts returning to normal, I notice him briefly glance at his watch.

'Just enough time.' He says, smiling. 'Amber, get on your knees.' He orders and I compliantly drop to the floor in front of him. He beckons me closer so that I'm kneeling between his suited thighs and says, 'Open wide, Amber.', quickly unbuttoning his fly and pulling my mouth down on his hard dick.

His fingers tangle in my hair as he forces me up and down his cock roughly, clearly enjoying the sight of me spluttering and gagging around his length. He pulls me down until my lips are pressed against his pubic hair and the head of his cock is wedged in my throat, making it hard to breathe. Just as I'm about to try pulling away, he releases me just slightly and starts to spurt his thick, creamy spunk down my throat. The way he's handling me is rough and degrading, and frankly, hot as hell. I know I shouldn't like it, but I do.

'Good girl.' He growls as he removes his softening length from my mouth and brushes a drop of his cream from my bottom lip. I sit back on my heels, naked and breathless, trying to get my breathing back under control.

'Thank you, Mr Smith.' I reply demurely.

After he's gone, I lay back down on the bed, naked again, but on my front this time, to spare my burning ass. When Oliver comes in to join me, he strokes my abused cheeks lightly.

'I assume Mr Smith introduced you to his paddle?' he asks and I nod,

'And then some.' I reply, 'But I didn't safe word.' I add, pleased with myself.

'No, you didn't.' Oliver smiles back at me, then stands and crosses to the dresser. He returns with a small pot of what looks like body butter. 'This will help with the sting.' He explains as he starts smoothing it over my cheeks. His touch is featherlight and it feels heavenly.

'So,' he starts, rubbing the last of the lotion in gently, 'about your last decision, Jessica.'

'I want to do it.' I reply affirmatively before I can talk myself out of it.

'You're sure?' Oliver asks, watching me closely. I nod,

'Absolutely. It's like you said, this is an opportunity for me to fund my big dreams and choose my own destiny -- I want to take as much as I can from it, and that means going all in.' I tell him confidently and he looks back at me with a half-smile and admiration in his eyes. 'Although, if you could avoid putting my ass through anything too painful while we're up there, I'd really appreciate it.' I say with a small laugh and he nods,

'I can work with that.'

* * * * *

Oliver gives me some time to relax and regroup in the private room. I don't get dressed right away, and actually end up taking a nap, naked on the bed. When I wake, it takes me a few moments to remember where I am, and I half wonder if everything I've done tonight was a dream. I tentatively stroke my ass and quickly realise it was all real. Although my poor cheeks do already feel much better thanks to Oliver's magic lotion.

'Welcome back, sleepy head.' Oliver's voice comes from across the room, where he's sitting on the sofa, scrolling through his phone.

'Hi.' I reply quietly, 'Sorry, I didn't mean to do that.' I add sheepishly.

'Don't apologise, you were only out for about twenty minutes -- and you've had a busy night.' He replies kindly.

'And I'm not done yet.' I say, trying to pull together enough confidence for what's left.

After I get dressed, again, and freshen up my hair and makeup, Oliver re-cuffs my wrists and leads me back out into the main bar area of the club. It seems to be busier than when we first got here. There are very few empty tables now and I feel a wave of nerves hit hard.

'Are you ready, Amber?' Oliver asks pointedly, and I find I like the sound of my new name even more when he says it.

'Yes, Master.' I reply, trying to temper the wave of desire that courses through me.

Oliver leads me to the side of the stage and I notice there's some sort of host in attendance tonight. He's dressed a little like a circus ringmaster, but all in black, complete with a velvet top hat.

'Ladies and gentlemen, Doms and playthings, most of you will recognise our next guest on stage -- Mr Oliver Swift, but you may not have met his new friend Amber, so please do make her feel very welcome.' His delivery is theatrical and over the top, but the assembled audience seem to love it, and there's even a ripple of applause as Oliver leads me out.

I stand on Oliver's right, with my cuffed wrists in front of me and my eyes cast down, desperately trying to breathe through the urge to run.

'Head up, Amber. Let them see how beautiful you are.' Oliver's voice is smooth and commanding and gives me a burst of confidence.

I do as he says and look out into the sea of faces. Most people have stopped whatever they were doing to pay attention and I can't help noticing that many of them are eyeing me with blatant carnal interest. It's hard not to be flattered. I press my thighs together to quieten my throbbing clit.

'Good girl.' Oliver croons softly, unfastening my cuffed wrists. 'I'm going to strip you now, alright?' I give him the tiniest nod and take a deep breath.

Still standing to the side, so as not to obstruct the view of the big reveal, Oliver starts to slowly tug down the zip of my dress. As the black fabric falls to the floor for the third time this evening, there's a murmur of approving sounds from around the tables in front of me.

Oliver takes me by the hand and walks to stand me in front of the wooden cross at the centre of the stage. He makes quick work of securing my wrists and ankles into new cuffs, with my arms above my head and my legs more than a shoulders width apart. I'm naked and brazenly on display for dozens of people to enjoy, and my pussy just keeps getting wetter.

I panic a little when I see Oliver stride to the left of the stage, but relief floods through me when he quickly returns. Followed by pure desire when I see what he's holding. It looks like a really old-fashioned black microphone with a foam head, but I recognise it immediately as a magic wand vibrator. Just like the one I have at home. I smile inwardly at the thought of what's about to happen.

'Let's show them how exceptional your orgasm control skills are.' Oliver smirks so that only I can hear. 'Do not come without my permission, or I may not be so mindful of your ass, understood?' he taunts with a deviant smile.

'Yes, Master.' I bite my lip to stop myself from grinning back at him.

Oliver starts by trailing the soft domed head across my collar bone, over the swell of each of my breasts in turn, and then rests it against my nipples one after the other. I'm moaning softly when he guides it down over my ribs and across my midriff, bypassing my needy pussy in favour of gliding down my right thigh and up my left. When the vibrating mass finally comes to rest against my aching mound, I moan softly, eagerly anticipating him telling me to come.

Instead, he retrieves a small black leather flogger from his back pocket and cracks the leathery tongues against my open pussy once, making me cry out in surprise.

'That, was setting one of seven.' Oliver's voice is clear and commanding, and loud enough for everyone to hear as he holds up the magic wand for them to see. 'But I assure you, Amber is capable of resisting much, much more pleasure.' He concludes, turning to look at me with the most deviant smirk I've seen on his handsome face yet.

I return his smouldering gaze with the smallest, most submissive smile I can manage, determined to make my Master proud.

He turns the dial on the wand and repeats the whole process with the vibrations set to level two.

By the time the flogger snaps across my dripping pussy after the wand has tormented me on level five, I'm a mess. Panting, and wailing, and begging him to let me come. He stands close to me and kisses me deeply, before whispering so that only I can hear.

'Two more cycles, Jessica. You can manage it. I'll stop if you want me to, but I don't think you do. Do you?' he asks, tilting his head to one side. The blazing lust in his eyes makes me dig deep and shake my head.

'No, Master. I don't.' I reply breathlessly

'Good girl.' He growls, turning the wand to level six.

The vibrations are so intense now that I'm writhing and pulling at my restraints almost constantly, regardless of which part of my body he's holding them against. When they reach my pussy, I scream loudly, using every ounce of self-control in my body not to give in and accept the consequences.

I'm panting hard, teetering on the edge, then finally, feel the sting of the flogger and hear the multiple cracks as the delicious pain pulls me back from the edge. Relief floods through me.

'Level seven, ladies and gentlemen.' Oliver addresses the crowd briefly then returns his full attention to me.

With the wand on its highest setting, he really takes his time in letting it wander over my helplessly naked and bound form. I mewl unintelligibly when it lingers on my hard nipples and squeal uncontrollably when it glides up my spread thighs in turn. When he finally rests it against my frustrated pussy, an animalistic moan rumbles in my throat and I look at him pleadingly, silently begging for release. He presses it against me a little harder and mouths

'Five,' he lowers it just a little so that it comes to rest against my clit and whispers 'Four', I moan softly, submitting myself to his intentions, breathing deeply to keep control of myself.

'Three.' There's a whisper of a smile on his lips and I realise he's holding three fingers up for the crowd to see,

'Two.' He puts a finger down and locks his eyes on mine.

'One.' He smiles, 'Now, come for me, Amber.' He says loudly enough for everyone to hear and I gratefully obey.

He keeps moving the wand in small circles over my mound as I convulse in pleasure over and over again, wailing,

'Thank you. Thank you Master! Thank you for making me wait!' because it feels incredible and overwhelming and I know it's even better because he's read my body so well and tested me to my limit.

When I eventually come back down to earth after multiple earth-shattering orgasms, I realise that people are applauding politely again, and several submissives in the crowd are also coming, as though their Doms have allowed them to climax in time with me. Just when I think this night can't get any more surreal, I think to myself.

'Such a good girl.' Oliver growls proudly as he sets about uncuffing me. Then he surprises me again, by scooping me up into his arms and striding back in the direction of the private room.

'I am so proud of you, Jessica.' He says when we're alone again. 'You were exceptional.' He adds with a smile and I blush.

'You did most of the work.' I reply, 'I just had to go with it.' I shrug

'And how do you feel now?' he asks, still smiling.

'Weirdly... liberated.' I tell him, trying to make sense of my own feelings. 'I mean, if I can do that, what would I ever be scared of, you know?' he nods knowingly, completely understanding the things I'm still processing myself.

'I'm glad to hear it.' He replies. 'Now, let's get you home.'

[Look out for the last chapter coming soon -- thoughts & comments are of course very welcome as always.

Thanks for reading! EG x]