Afterlife




She didn’t have long to find out.

Lucas at last strapped it to her head, smoothing the fasteners beneath her hair line at the nape, though he made them snug, so the gag pushed down on her tongue when fully seated, rendering her silent and keeping her from teasing the gag, or him, further. There was a glint in his gaze, a light smile on his lips as he caressed her still working jaw. Leaning forward, he brushed her temple with his lips. “You get over your fears, sweetheart, you’re going to be damn irresistible. Jon’s going to lose his mind over you.”

He stepped away then, letting her see Jon again with her hungry eyes. He moved forward, circling her as Lucas and Peter drew back to two chairs placed at the rear corner of the platform where she could see them, making it clear she was on display for them. She wasn’t sure how she would have felt about facing the unknown crowd, but knowing they were there, at her back, and these Doms were at her front… Oh God and Goddess, the heat of it was making her dizzy.

Jon passed behind her, his fingers trailing down her back, but he stopped short of her ass. He shifted, and she could tell from the corner of her eye that he’d faced the crowd. At the same moment, the attendant to whom Ben had been talking pulled a curtain cord. The black drape behind Peter’s and Lucas’ chairs drew back, revealing a mirror that allowed the crowd to see her face, her gagged mouth and needy expression. Worse, she could see all of them staring at her.

Jon’s hand settled on her back, a reassurance. However, when he addressed the crowd, she learned his velvet voice translated well into the ringing tones of a Master addressing a crowd. It even brought the noise from other nearby demonstrations down to more hushed tones.

“The submissive you see before you has been in need of a Master’s punishment for a long, long time. She believes she’s not beautiful, not worthy of a Master’s love and attention. Of my love and attention. I’m very disappointed by this.”

The overpowering physical arousal she was experiencing hadn’t anticipated an emotional assault. It hit her below her heart, a sharp blow. Her lips pressed down on the gag, her nostrils flaring with the need for air, fingers clutching at the posts. When her gaze flickered to Peter, Lucas and Ben, who’d now taken a seat with them, she was startled to see Jon’s tone reflected in their faces. Reproof, stern admonition and something else that stirred that pain higher up, made her heart beat faster. This wasn’t roleplaying or playacting. The things Dana had hinted at, their cohesion as a solid, Dominant unit, was clear here. Jon’s intent was fully reflected in their body language. They didn’t like what they were hearing, and they would all make her accountable for it.

“If I wanted to use her like a cheap whore, hand her out to anyone who wanted her, she believes that would be my right. Even if it destroyed everything fragile and amazing that has only recently begun to stretch its wings inside of her. She doesn’t believe she deserves anything more, believes she can’t hope for anything more than that.”

Okay, that ache was ascending into her throat. She looked toward the foot of the mirror, so she could cast her gaze down, stare at the row of polished shoes and well-cut slacks. She couldn’t look at any of the men. She wanted free. This push-pull between the emotional and the physical was putting the taste of panic in her mouth.

“She doesn’t realize what a gift she is, what a treasure I’ve discovered in her.” He settled his hand on her shoulder now, that tender juncture with her neck. The pointed caress stilled her. “But I think a little well-placed punishment will help her discover her value, help her strengthen her realization of what being a slave to a Master truly means. In the past, when someone committed a crime, the authorities punished them in public like this, so that they remembered the lesson and never repeated it. That’s our intent tonight, but for her ultimate pleasure and yours. As most of you know, we don’t often play this deeply in public, but when one who belongs to us needs the lesson, we don’t hesitate to do what needs to be done.”

You belong to one of them, but in a peripheral way, you belong to all of them.

Jon moved back to her front now, his firm touch moving over her tense fingers in the cuff. He loosened their curl so they lay flat on the wood again, then let his hand drift over her arm. She gazed up at him, suffering, communicating myriad things she didn’t know how to express, so maybe the gag was a good thing. She didn’t know if this was where she wanted to be anymore, though some part of her knew she did, that she couldn’t back away from this. He’d brought her to the starting line, and he was challenging her to have the courage to run toward something instead of away from it.

“I’m here,” he said, meeting her gaze. Touching her chin, stroking over her stretched lips, he tightened his grip on her jaw, underscoring his words. “I’m always going to be here.”

* * * * *



He shifted then, so blissfully all she could see right now was him, not the mirror or the others. “Rachel, did you ever have a male teacher when you were in school? One who attracted you in a particular way?” He spoke in that raised voice that carried through the crowd, but the way he kept his focus on her, it was all about the two of them.

An answer to his question sprang right into her mind. Mr. Montgomery. Mixed with his energetic and creative teaching style, there’d been a natural authority to him. It gave him control over every person in his class with little more than a direct look or a slight lift to his deep voice. He hadn’t been extraordinarily handsome, but had the look of a rugged, middle-aged Viking warrior, broad shouldered and strong.

She nodded. Jon’s lips twitched, though his gaze remained serious. “And did you ever imagine him punishing you for passing notes?”

That twitch at his mouth reminded her he could be more than one thing, elicit more than one emotion from her at the same time. So he’d remarkably intertwined a sliver of humor among her spiked emotions, cushioning her. It helped. She held his gaze, glad now he offered her that lifeline, and gave him a slight nod. It had been a quiet, shameful fantasy, one she hadn’t thought about for a long, long time. She’d remembered it on occasion in her marriage, realizing it was early evidence of those inexplicable needs that Cole had made her feel were appalling.

The humor died away, probably because he saw her emotional shift. He caressed her face, holding her attention. “Never again, Rachel,” he said, low. “I’m going to punish you, not for passing the notes but for being ashamed of wanting that fantasy.”

Ben now rose. He had two things in hand. One was a nylon flogger. The other was a switch.

“In the one-room schools of our past, they used hickory switches as a very effective way to maintain a student’s attention.” Jon addressed the crowd again, though his gaze held Ben’s an extra moment, a significant exchange that sent a capricious wave of panic through her, understanding what might be about to happen. Her Master settled his gaze back on her face, and that expression confirmed it even before he began to speak.

“My friend here knows more about the female bottom than any man I know, how every individual nerve ending can be stimulated to maximum response. He’s devoted a great deal of time and study to it.” He cocked his head, and his voice modulated, addressing her specifically, though the audience could still hear him. “I know you’ve already recognized exactly what type of Master he is, sweet girl, and you can probably well imagine him as your stern teacher, can’t you? He’s going to punish you, and like the other night, I’m not going to give you a number. He’s going to keep going until I tell him to stop. I’ll know when you’ve had enough.”

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