The Cabin Ch. 06

The crop was lighter than expected. I studied it in my outstretched palms: a braided leather handle narrowing into a fiberglass shaft, topped with a flat brown tongue that Isabel referred to as, "the keeper". It would appear unremarkable on the shelf of any equine shop. There, in my hands, it instilled an undeniable sense of power.

Ari and Sonya were already resting face-down with their upper halves on the table and their feet on the floor. Isabel paced behind them, lithe and regal, palms poised above her hip bones.

"It's important to flush the skin before you begin flogging," she said. "It brings blood to the surface, which increases sensitivity, and also makes the skin less likely to bruise."

I nodded. Ari's backside was still marred from his pre-dinner demonstration while Sonya's rump shone pale and perfect in the warm glow of the chandelier. It felt odd to observe them from this angle, taking lessons on how to inflict pain rather than anticipate it.

Adrian stood beside me, his arms crossed over his bare chest. Gareth had claimed Adrian's chair from the head of the table and dragged it to the back wall. He'd donned his white dress shirt, but left it unbuttoned. I noted a significant change in his bearing: shoulders hunched, legs tucked under, palm curved over his mouth.

"Aubrey, pay attention," Isabel chided.

"Sorry, Mistress."

"Besides prepping the skin," she continued. "A good warm-up helps to relax your sub, making it much easier for them to slip into a submissive headspace. Why don't you start with Ari?"

I swallowed. Grasping the leather handle with my dominant palm, I drew it back and, with a flick of my wrist, brought the keeper down onto his right buttock.

"Ah!" Ari flinched.

"That was a bit heavy," said Isabel. "Try again. Light taps. No need to worry about wrist action just yet."

"It can help to rest your hand on the small of his back," said Adrian. "It'll steady you and remind you to avoid the tailbone."

"Plus, it feels good to them." Isabel patted Ari's hip. "Right, sub?"

"Yes, Mistress."

I side-stepped, positioning myself perpendicular to Ari's rump. Settling my palm just above his buttocks, I patted the forgiving flesh with the leather tongue, moving in a semi-circle around his cleft as I'd seen Isabel do earlier that evening.

"Excellent." She clapped. "Do that for another thirty seconds and then hit him like you mean it. Be sure to aim for an area you've prepped."

I kept tapping. Ari's skin flushed pink, radiant. His muscles tensed with anticipation as I drew the crop back and landed a blow on his left cheek. Blood flowed to the spot, leaving an impression.

"Wonderful!" Isabel's burgundy lips stretched across her teeth.

Adrian rubbed my shoulder. "Watch the skin. A pink area requires less effort to achieve the same result but it can also handle more force."

"Yes," Isabel added. "It's important that you pay close attention to your sub's responses. If you become distracted, you might cross a boundary or cause unintended harm. But, enough of that." She prodded Ari's welt with her fingernail. "Hit him again."

I prepped the backs of his thighs and continued my assault, landing blows on and below his buttocks—careful to avoid his scrotum. As I hit him, I felt a spark of pleasure unlike anything I'd experienced that afternoon as Adrian's submissive.

Isabel took the crop. "One thing you can do to help your sub prepare psychologically is to rub the length of the crop—or cane, if you're using one—right here." She held the shaft parallel to the crease where Ari's thighs met his buttocks.

"Think of it as a promise of what's to come." Adrian's fingers grazed my ass.

I shivered, mindful of the promise contained in his touch. Isabel set the crop back into my palm. I tucked the fiberglass shaft below Ari's rump and wiggled it. He tensed.

"Ari," said Isabel. "Are you enjoying your punishment?"

"Yes, Mistress."

I flogged each cheek. Ari yelped.

"Don't you think you should thank Aubrey for her efforts?" Isabel asked.

"Yes. Thank you, Mistress Aubrey."

"Feel free to talk to him," she said.

I paused. What the hell do I say?

Adrian weaved his fingers into my hair and stroked the back of my neck. "Whatever comes to mind. You're his Dominant."

"Um—" I swallowed.

"Speak with authority." Isabel shooed Adrian and grasped my upper arms, tugging my shoulders back and straightening my spine. "Always maintain erect posture, especially if your submissive is taller than you. You can have them kneel or drop onto all fours, but standing straight will help you to feel more confident."

I cleared my throat and attempted to channel my inner sadist, but felt more like a drama kid in a high school musical posturing for the crowd.

"Ari," I said.

"Yes, Mistress Aubrey?"

"Do you think you deserve to enjoy your punishment?"

"No, Mistress Aubrey."

I swung the crop, coming down hard on his right buttock. He squealed, his legs wavering.

I hit him again on the opposite cheek, then once on each thigh. Ari bristled, the small of his back tensing beneath my palm. His cries rang out, shrill and pathetic.

"Very good, Aubrey," said Isabel.

The skin on Ari's rump puckered with welts, similar to the marks on my own thighs, but smaller. I remembered my own punishment from earlier that evening and how Adrian had alternated between beating and caressing me. Setting the crop down on the table, I touched Ari's reddened flesh. He flinched as I skimmed my fingertips across his thighs and buttocks.

On a whim, I tickled the back of his scrotum.

Ari moaned, rising onto the balls of his feet. I raked my fingernails over him, pausing every few moments to cup and fondle his testicles. It occurred to me that I might order him to stand up and turn around, to get hard if he wasn't already, and even fuck me, if I wanted him to. My cunt tightened at the mental image of myself astride his torso, impaled upon his cock.

Adrian cleared his throat.

I glanced up. "It was just a thought."

He raised an eyebrow.

Veronica wandered into the room with an open bottle of red in one hand and a wine glass in the other. "Did I miss anything?"

"Just the warm-up," said Isabel. "Aubrey's a fast learner."

I smiled. While the majority of Isabel's instructions consisted of techniques I'd previously read or written about, it all felt like new information. Being presented with a ripe ass and a willing victim put everything I thought I'd known on an intellectual level into a whole new perspective. It was a re-education in kink.

I glanced about the room, suddenly aware that my ex-husband was not among us. "Has anyone seen Peter?"

"He's in the living room with the dog," said Veronica.

I frowned. "Why the hell is he still here?"

Adrian squeezed my shoulder. "Don't let him distract you, love."

"You want to avoid hitting certain areas." Isabel ran her fingernails down Ari's back. "Like Adrian said, the tailbone is off-limits, as is the spine and lower back. Anywhere you have skin-on-bone is generally a bad idea." She pinched Ari's rump. "Fleshy areas such as the buttocks, the back of the thigh, and plumper parts of the back, are fine. Calves are lovely, too. In fact, give him a few good smacks to demonstrate."

I tightened my grip on the crop. Ari's legs were lean, yet muscular, and coated in a layer of soft, dark hair. Patting my way down his thigh and onto the back of his calf, I tapped the skin a few times before swatting. Ari flinched. I hit him again.

"Go ahead and give him a thorough beating," said Isabel. "Then we'll move onto Sonya."

Thorough. Beating.

I adjusted my posture and planted my hand between his shoulder blades. Channeling Adrian, I stroked Ari's spine, pressing my groin against his reddened ass. He groaned, pushing his backside into me. Arousal pooled between my legs and I bit my lips together. Stepping aside, I swung the crop, making contact with his left cheek.

Ari whimpered. The bright red splotch blazed in contrast to the pink glow of his behind. I came down on his opposite cheek, then his thigh, down to his calf. He tensed each time the keeper made contact. I paused to run my hands over his legs, switching between firm blows and soft strokes. Ari wriggled against the table.

"Wiggling is a sign that you're doing something right," said Adrian.

I grinned, enjoying the sense of power that swelled in my belly.

"Ari," said Isabel. "I'd like you to turn over for Mistress Aubrey."

The young man rose with obvious effort and turned to face us. The skin on his cock was taut and lined with purple veins. He lifted himself onto the table, wincing as his buttocks touched down on the mahogany. I licked my lips and stared at his erection, longing to touch it.

"He's yours to torment," said Adrian.

Well, In that case...I took Ari's cock between my fingers, lifting it so that it stood straight up. He watched my ministrations, his cheeks flushed and hairline dampened with sweat. I dragged the crop's leather tongue along the front of Ari's thighs and around his groin. He rocked his pelvis, thrusting into my fist. I tapped the keeper over his skin as I rounded the head of his cock with my thumb, smearing pre-cum.

Frustration and desire coalesced in my gut. My clitoris throbbed and it took an immeasurable amount of self-control to refrain from hurling myself onto the table and mounting him. Determined to seek what little satisfaction I could achieve, I raised my arm high and brought the crop down onto his thigh.

Ari grunted. I hit him repeatedly, all the while pumping his erection. Pre-cum dribbled from the tip, turning the hand job into a wonderfully messy affair. After five blows on each thigh, resulting in gorgeous, hot pink blemishes, I retreated. His cock pulsed, on the verge of orgasm. While part of me longed to continue stroking Ari to completion while turning his thighs into a gorgeous welt mosaic, I'd learned from experience that, to leave him hanging, on the brink of release, was a far worse punishment than any pain I might dispense or any discomfort he could endure.

Adrian sauntered up behind me. I felt his bare chest against my back as his hand snaked around to squeeze my cunt. My knees threatened to give as he fondled me, sending echoes of pleasure throughout my lower body.

"You're a natural," he whispered, his breath caressing my ear.

"I think it's time we moved on," said Isabel.

Adrian gave my cunt a tight squeeze and planted a kiss on my shoulder. I shuddered, deranged, blood welling between my legs. I moved to stand beside Sonya, my hand gripping the table next to Ari's knee for support. He'd balled his hands into fists; his chest rising and falling in rapid succession as his erection pulsated, abandoned. I patted his thigh in commiseration.

Isabel raked her nails across Sonya's fair, pristine backside. The young woman's sparse, blonde pubic hair was slick with moisture, as were her inner thighs. Adrian rounded the table to stand behind her, the bulge at the front of his pants mere inches from her face. He stroked her forehead.

"It's been too long," he said.

Sonya sighed.

"So unblemished," said Isabel. "I haven't seen her like this since she first arrived at the academy, all nerves and doe-eyes."

"Yes, well, Aubrey can certainly change that." Adrian flashed his signature grin.

Gareth cleared his throat. Still seated against the back wall, he regarded us with folded arms and a stern expression.

"Do you have something to add, Gareth?" Adrian asked.

"Nothing I haven't already made clear." Gareth scratched at the light layer of stubble on his chin.

"Well, then. Let's proceed." Isabel gave Sonya's rump a light smack. "Turn over."

Sonya rose from the mahogany slab, twirled, and hopped up onto the table.

"I suppose we should get rid of that corset, pretty as it might be." Isabel gestured to me.

"Uh, sure." I tucked the riding crop under my arm and stepped in front of Sonya. She kept her eyes lowered.

The ivory corset sported six metal closures, spaced an inch and a half apart, running along the front of the garment. I slid my fingers between the corset and Sonya's cleavage, marveling at her supple skin. Her breathing was steady, though I noted a slight reddening of her cheeks and chest as I unhooked the first pin. By the third closure, Sonya's breasts had relaxed to their normal height.

Uncoupling the last pin from its hook, I drew the corset open and away from her chest. There were pink grooves where the metal bones had sat snugly against her. My gaze settled on her small, pert breasts and erect nipples.

"I'll take that," said Isabel.

I handed over the corset. A layer of goose bumps prickled across Sonya's chest as her breathing intensified. I brought my fingers to within an inch of her left nipple, but thought twice and withdrew.

"Go on," said Isabel. "She's your plaything."

Adrian drifted around to the foot of the table beside Isabel, his eyes half-lidded.

Swallowing, I placed my palm in the center of Sonya's chest, above her heart. She was warm, alive. I glanced nervously around the room and found both Gareth's and Veronica's eyes cemented on us. Adrian's cock strained against the fabric of his jeans, the sight of which only served to excite me further. I ran my fingers across Sonya's chest, cupping a petite globe in my hand. She sighed as my thumb traced and then strummed her nipple. I caressed her with both hands, my own nipples puckering.

Adrian side-stepped around Isabel and came to stand behind me. Humming, he reached up from below my arms to squeeze my breasts.

I moaned, my mouth hanging open. I thrummed Sonya's nipples as Adrian pinched and fingered mine. He embedded his erection into my lower back.

"You're distracting her," Isabel chided.

Adrian chuckled. "I know." He pressed his lips to my ear. "Put your mouth on her."

My cunt throbbed. Swallowing, I stooped forward. Adrian followed, maintaining his gentle assault on my breasts. Wetting my lips, I traced my tongue over Sonya's areola. She whimpered, her bottom lip quivering. I fluttered my tongue against the little pink nub before taking it into my mouth, coaxing it to its full erectness.

Sonya arched her back and thrust her chest forward. Adrian brushed his denim-clad cock against my rump and lower back. I swayed my hips as he lifted and squeezed my breasts, his breath hot and moist upon my neck.

Releasing Sonya's right breast, I turned my attention to the left. Her legs spread of their own volition—I'm actually turning her on, I thought. I took as much of her into my mouth as possible, encompassing almost everything she had to offer. Her soft moans and whimpers excited me and I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to make her scream.

I sank my teeth into the flesh of her breast and fluttered my tongue over the tip of her nipple.

"Ah!" She yelped.

Adrian purred into my ear, releasing one breast to clamp his palm over my cunt. He slid a finger along my slit, moistening it before drawing it upward to massage my clitoris. I hummed around Sonya's breast, savoring the delicious pressure mounting between my legs.

Isabel wrenched the riding crop from my armpit and slammed the keeper on the table. I jumped.

"That's enough," she barked. "For now."

To my dismay, Adrian withdrew his hands and stepped back. "My apologies, darling."

"Aubrey," said Isabel. "Stand up straight."

I rose and retreated a few paces, breathless. "I'm sorry, Mistress."

"Adrian," she pointed the crop toward the opposite side of the room.

He smirked, taking his time rounding the dining table.

"The things I would do to you if you weren't a Dom." Isabel rolled her eyes. "Sonya, I want you to lie back on the table with your knees against your chest and your feet in the air. Hold your legs firmly."

Sonya, red-faced and winded, complied. Immediately, I understood why Isabel had opted for this position: it provided extensive access to the backs of the young woman's thighs, the base of her rump, and her crotch. She was practically sopping.

Isabel offered me the crop. "Try punishing her this time."

I nodded. Gripping the handle, I tapped the keeper along the back of Sonya's legs, trailing light blows down and around her pubic mound. When she was sufficiently pink, I raised the crop and smacked the leather tongue against her thigh. Sonya squealed. Her eyes clamped shut and legs trembled as she hugged them tight against her torso.

Again, I flushed her, this time focusing on her mound. With less force, I brought the crop down onto the flesh above her cunt, a few inches shy of her clitoris. She whined, gritting her teeth. I noticed Ari watching her; his cock still rigid.

I circled her crotch with the keeper once more before I let her have it.

Whap.

Whap.

Whap.

Each blow upon Sonya's thighs resulted in a delicious red mark. Tears spilled down her temple and into her hair, but she remained in the correct position. Her cunt glistened in the buttery light of the chandelier. Mesmerized, I reached out and touched her.

I'd never fondled another woman's genitalia before, and I was both comforted by its familiarity and captivated by its foreignness. The soft, pink folds were warm and slick. I spread her lips with two fingers, picking up a coating of clear, viscous fluid. Sweat collected on my upper lip as I explored her, locating the tiny bundle of nerves. It was smaller than mine, but no doubt just as sensitive. I encircled it with my ring finger, teasing it, eliciting whimpers from Sonya's delicate throat.

I tapped at her with a gentle dabbing motion, each slight impact sending her pelvis into spasm. Switching back to the crop, I patted her just as carefully with the keeper. Sonya's feet rose into the air, toes curling. With a flick of my wrist, I came down on her clitoris.

"Fuck!" She wailed, her legs snapping shut and feet hitting the edge of the table.

I lifted and separated her legs, as Adrian had when he'd spanked my cunt that afternoon. "Keep your legs spread. Understood?"

"Yes, Mistress Aubrey." She whimpered.

Placing my free hand on her belly, I tapped the leather tongue over her clitoris in rapid succession. Sonya cried and wriggled, holding tightly to the backs of her knees. Again, I struck her.

She screeched, her face contorting. I switched to her thighs, patting firmly and coming down hard.

Isabel grinned. "Wonderful work, Aubrey! I can see that your time with Adrian has served you well."

"Does this redeem me?" he asked.

"Not even close." She winked at him. "Give her a few more whacks and then we'll move on."

"Must you?" Gareth rose from his chair and stormed up to us. "Hasn't she suffered enough?"

"She can take a few more," said Isabel. "Can't you, sub?"

Sonya panted. "Yes, Mistress."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Gareth scowled at the red splotches on Sonya's ass and thighs.

"Why would you?"

"She's my submissive."

"Last I heard she was no longer in your custody."

Gareth turned to me, his eyebrows knitted in desperation.

"Isabel's right," I said. "She severed ties with you at the end of your story."

"Then why is she wearing my collar?"

"A thing easily remedied." Adrian laced his fingers around Sonya's neck.

Gareth reached across the table, placing a firm hand on Adrian's wrist. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Something I should've done the moment you two walked through the door."

"You have no right, Adrian."

"Gareth," said Isabel, her voice steady. "We know you only have Sonya's best interest at heart; that you're trying to protect her. But can't you see that this is what she wants?"