Priya Ch. 03

He cruised the room, talking to people and sending them over. For the next several minutes men and women poked at Priya's bruises. She flipped over multiple times, to give them access to her ass and her breasts. Honestly, some of what went on was more groping than poking. Through it all, I could smell her arousal and see her pussy get wetter and wetter. I dipped my finger in and smeared the wetness on her cheek. "You're such a slut. Getting turned on by everyone touching you and using you."

That, of course, just made her more aroused.

Finally, Jack and Tori came over. Jack poked the marks on Priya's ass. You could still see the blood pooling beneath the surface; they were going to turn a nice shade of purple.

"That was such a hot scene," gushed Tori to Priya. "Oh man. So jealous."

Jack looked at Tori quizzically.

"Mind if I poke?" asked Tori.

"You should probably ask your dominant's permission," I said. "I don't mind if he doesn't." I reached into my bag, and pulled out another cane. When I'd made the one, I'd made ten more. I'd kept a backup in my bag in case my favorite broke, but it never had. I handed that backup to Jack. "Never been used," I said. "Free to a good home."

He took the cane and started at for a fraction of a moment, making up his mind. Then he turned to Tori. "We have things to do. Now. But maybe you can compare bruises with her later."

"Oh," said Tori.

He put his arm around her waist, and guided her to the spanking bench.

"I'm not much like that cane," Priya said.

"You mean you don't like that cane?" I asked.

"No." She giggled. "Well, that too. But it doesn't matter what I like. I mean I'm not like the cane you gave Jack."

"How so?" I asked.

She grinned. "You said it's never been used. Whereas I get used however you want, as often as you want. By whomever you want."

Yeah. I'd spent a lot of the evening getting turned on by her, but that turned my cock rock hard.

"Move your cunt to the edge of the table and spread your legs, slut," I said.

Her grin widened. "Yes, Sir."

I unzipped and thrust into her. I pulled her legs up until her feet were on my shoulders. High heels looked great on women when they walked, but even better when their legs were in the air. In this position I could get deep into her pussy, all the way to her cervix. It was one of my favorite ways to fuck her, if I wasn't fucking her mouth or her ass. It was her favorite, too. She didn't want to think I was fucking her for her pleasure, and every time the head of my cock banged against her back wall, she was assured that her pleasure had nothing to do with it.

I pounded her hard until I was on the edge of coming, and then pulled out.

"On the floor, slut," I said.

She pushed herself off the table and knelt in front of me. Lovingly, she took me into her mouth, cleaning her juices off it and holding me on the edge. I looked down at the beautiful naked woman serving me and almost came right there, but I had other thoughts. I pulled her head by the hair and pulled my cock out of her mouth.

The first time playing with someone is exciting, but playing with an eager submissive I've trained to my preferences is sublime. She knew what I wanted. She wrapped her hand around my cock, and jerked me off expertly, keeping her mouth open, her tongue out. She looked up at me adoringly. I spurted hot cum all over her face and tits.

She stayed there, painted and marked, while I zipped up my pants. She deserved an orgasm, I thought. She'd get several, at her own hand, later. Me giving her one would only make the memory of the scene less hot, as if there was some kind of quid pro quo for her service. But for me, making her cum in front of an audience would be delightful. Sometimes, in order to give the appearance of being selfish, I had to skip what I wanted. I'd talk to her about my desire to put on that kind of a show later, before the next party. We'd have to bring our own shower curtain, because Priya was a squirter, and the chux wouldn't be enough.

"Are you proud of me, Sir?" She asked, as cum dripped from her jaw to her striped breast.

"I'm proud of you, sla --" I had been about to say slave. "I'm proud of you, Priya," I said.

She nodded, and gave a wan smile, as if I hadn't hit quite the right note. She turned her head slightly. "Your friends are playing, Sir."

I looked over, and sure enough, Jack was caning Tori. Tori was shrieking -- and laughing. She wasn't the first person I'd seen have that reaction to pain, but either way her laughter was infectious. Jack was laughing too. They were having a good time.

I turned back to Priya. "I love having you covered, but I need to have you wash up. Having all that cum dripping tends to make people nervous at a party."

"Of course, Sir. May I stand?"

"Yes."

I offered her hand, and she took it. She went to the restroom and reappeared a few minutes later.

"Those are quite the marks you've given me, Sir," she said. "Thank you. I'm proud to wear them. Glad I don't have to cover them, here."

"You're welcome," I said.

We hung around for another half hour. Jack and Tori finished playing, and retired to a corner with a bean bag to cuddle and grope. For us, anything else would be anticlimax, so we thanked Alex for hosting and then said our goodbyes. I got some nice hugs. Priya got hugs, too, from people who said they were glad to have met her, and from sadists who liked squishing her boobs and making her wince. They always asked me permission before hugging her, and I kept giving it.

I drove her home, another first. She usually came to my house and drove herself home when we were done. The way to the party she'd been full of questions about how she was to behave, and how the party would be. The way back she was mostly quiet.

"Did you have a good time?" I asked.

"I did."

"Would you want to go again?"

"I would."

Another silence.

"Something is still bugging you," I said. "Was doing what we do in front of everyone too intense?"

She shook her head. "No, it's not that. I loved being shown off to your friends. I loved that you think that being with me makes you look good, and that you're proud of me. I like being your arm candy. I love not having a say, and I want you to be able to use me in front of other people exactly as you do at home. In a way, that's the problem, is that I love that."

"How's that a problem?"

"Well it's kind of shitty for me to tell you now, when it's too late. But I didn't want you to do it just because I told you, either."

"If I decide it's shitty of you, I can punish you for it," I pointed out. I wasn't really big on punishment, even if the fantasy of it was hot. In reality, I'd rather be with a girl who wanted to do what she was told because that was what was in her heart, and a girl like that -- a girl like Priya -- would punish herself with self-reproach far more than I could with a paddle.

Judging from her smile, it was the right note to strike, however. "Good point. Well -- in private, you always call me a bitch. I love being your bitch. I'm proud to be your bitch. I kept hoping for you to call me that in front of people. But I think you were embarrassed to, and that made me sad. Well, not sad, just a little disappointed. On the whole, I had a wonderful evening."

She was right. I had been embarrassed to call her bitch in front of my friends. I'd justified it in my head that I was trying not to make her look bad, but that was bullshit. I was concerned about what people would think about me because of the way we played, and the words we used. I knew what turned Priya on, but I didn't want to look like the kind of man that would just call any woman "bitch" either.

Priya wasn't just any woman.

I pulled into her driveway, and stifled the urge to kiss her goodnight. We didn't do dinner and a show, and we didn't do goodnight kisses.

She solved that problem for me. She looked around, to make sure the street was deserted I imagine, and then pulled her dress down to bare her breasts. She reached for my crotch. "May I?" she asked.

So I ended up getting a goodnight blowjob instead. I came hard, and she swallowed all that I gave her.

"Thank you, bitch," I said, as she pulled up her dress.

She smiled slightly at that -- maybe it was a wan smile at my belated timing. "Anytime, anywhere, Sir." She pulled up her dress, opened the car door, and let herself out. I watched her until she opened the door and went inside.

Then I drove home. Like Priya, I had a wonderful evening, with just a tinge of regret. I didn't get to be good at what I did by never making mistakes, however. I got there by learning from them.

When I got home there was an email waiting for me.

"Sir,

I want you to know this: I love you. I don't think I want you to love me back. I'm certainly don't want you to say it. I love that you use me and hurt me. When you show that you care about me I worry you might not want to do those things, that you might hold back. I want you to do what you want with me, and not try to figure out what I want, and I trust you to keep me safe.

But I can't help but love you. To want to do more than just be used and to obey, but to serve as well.

Your mixed-up bitch,

Priya"