Master’s Fate Page 10

  “It’s an honor to have you join us tonight, Master Anderson. I know my daughter, in particular, is anxious to meet you.”

  I’m a little shocked to learn the man’s daughter is in attendance, but who am I to judge? Must be freeing to be that open about sex within a family. “I look forward to meeting her, Mr. Everett.”

  “Oh, you can call me John,” he says casually.

  Holy shit! John Everett is one of the biggest producers in Hollywood.

  Trying to keep my wits about me, I introduce Thane to him. “John, this is my friend, Thane Davis.”

  Instead of shaking his hand, John shakes his finger at Thane. “Wait. Aren’t you the kid on the news who wants his mother killed?”

  I can tell Thane has to bite back his anger when he answers. “No, but I am the son of Alonzo Davis, the world-renowned violinist.”

  John tilts his head, looking at him strangely.

  Durov comes over and clasps Thane’s shoulder, addressing John Everett directly. “You, more than anyone else, know you can’t believe what you hear in the news.” Squeezing Thane’s shoulder, he adds, “Sir Thane Davis is like a brother to me.”

  Nodding slowly, John seems to accept Durov’s assurance. “I’m glad to have you join us tonight, Sir Davis. I hope you find the night’s festivities entertaining and educational.”

  John’s gaze drifts over to Samantha and remains glued there. “And who is this?”

  “This is Mistress Clark,” Durov states in a possessive tone.

  “What a fine gem you have brought to us tonight…”

  I can’t help wondering if Durov is having twinges of jealousy as he watches John ogle her.

  John tries to take Samantha’s hand to kiss it, but she snaps her crop at him and steps back. “I did not give you permission to touch me.”

  Instead of being offended, John seems turned on by her actions. “Of course, Mistress. My apologies. It won’t happen again.”

  Samantha isn’t at all intimidated by the fact that this is one of the most successful men in LA. No, this girl has the guy groveling at her feet.

  John regains his composure when a flirty young blonde comes bouncing up to him and begs sweetly, “Daddy, aren’t you going to introduce me?”

  I suck in a breath when she turns around. I can’t believe Angela Laine is standing there in front of me. She’s only the hottest actress in all of Hollywood.

  Hugging her father’s arm tightly, Angela bats those big blue eyes at me while twirling a strand of her golden hair.

  “Of course, princess.”

  Addressing me formally, he says, “Master Brad Anderson, I would like you to meet my daughter.”

  She blushes as she bites her bottom lip. “My name is bunny, and I want to feel your bullwhip.”

  I hold my breath for a moment as I reconcile the fact that this famous actress is begging for me—in front of her father, no less—to whip her.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, bunny.”

  Her eyes are riveted to the miniature bullwhip by my side. “Thank you, sir.”

  I place my finger under her chin and lift her head up to meet my gaze. “If you want to feel the bite of my whip, you are required to address me as Master.”

  I watch an excited shudder go through her before she slowly sinks to the floor and kneels at my feet.

  John looks at his daughter with a proud glint in his eye. “Bunny will take you to the room.”

  I glance over at Thane, not quite believing my luck as bunny takes my hand and guides me to one of the doors.

  Bunny opens it, revealing a room of mirrors. They even cover the high ceiling above us.

  “I had Daddy clear it out so it’s just me, you, and…” Her eyes fall on Myrtle. “…the whip.”

  Needing something to bind her to, I scan the area and notice a large eye screw hanging down from the ceiling directly in the center that will work.

  “Have you ever experienced a bullwhip before?” I ask her before we begin.

  She looks at me sadly and shakes her head. “No one has been brave enough to touch me.”

  I can certainly understand why. One false move and you’ve just scarred a famous star. God only knows what the consequences would be if that happened.

  Thankfully, I have full confidence in my skill and feel no qualms about scening with the beautiful Angela Laine.

  “You understand about safe words?”

  “Of course.”

  Bunny is much too soft a sub name if I want her to experience the full effect of my dominance. So, I spontaneously decide to change her title.

  “Then undress for me, slave.”

  Her eyes grow wide and I watch in stunned silence as she runs to the door.

  Maybe “slave” was a bit much for her…

  But, instead of leaving, she calls out, “He’s going to do it!”

  Angela immediately returns. “I’m sorry, Master,” she squeaks excitedly. “It’s just that this is so thrilling for me!”

  Normally, I would punish her for failing to heed my command, but I understand this is an unusual situation when the room starts filling with people.

  When I order them to stand against one wall to keep everyone out of the range of my whip, I notice several famous faces in the crowd.

  Oh, hell, now the pressure’s on.

  I look at Angela and repeat my command in a low voice, “Undress, slave.”

  Bowing her head slightly in reverence, she begins to undress in a slow, seductive striptease that is as much for me as it is for the crowd watching us.

  My cock stirs as she reveals those firm breasts I have only dreamed about while watching her performance on the big screen. Damn…they’re even more beautiful than I imagined. I reach out to caress one, running my thumb over her hard nipple.

  The idea that Angela Laine is my sub for the evening starts to blow my mind.

  When I glance up and see some of the hottest stars of the big screen and in television staring at me expectantly, I suddenly feel a moment’s hesitation.

  Instead of giving in to it, I tip my hat and smile at them. I know what I’m doing. This moment is exactly what I’ve been practicing for.

  I take in Angela Laine’s naked body as she removes the last of her clothing, exposing her waxed pussy with a sexy patch of blonde pubic hair. Hot damn.

  My cock aches to feel the inside of Angela Laine’s body, but that’s not what I’m here for and I forcefully redirect my thoughts. Looking at the famous television anchor standing near the door, I command, “Get me some rope.”

  He disappears, not even questioning my authority.

  You know, I could get used to this.

  Minutes later, he returns with the rope and a ladder. I appreciate the guy’s initiative and thank him.

  He returns to his place to watch, an eager look on his face.

  Using the ladder, I take my time as I slowly pull the rope through the eye and adjust it. I enjoying making everyone wait as I get the rope ready. Once done, I hand the ladder back to the man and turn to face my sub.

  Her breath is already coming in short gasps, and I haven’t even begun. “Come to me,” I command in a husky voice.

  She takes in a deep breath before walking toward me. I see she’s nervous, which only adds to the thrill of this scene.

  I turn her toward the farthest wall so she can see herself and the people watching her. I slowly run my hands over the curve of her breasts and the swell of her hips, enjoying the feel of her virgin skin.

  Leaning forward, I ask, “Do you want marks?”

  She gasps, her breath coming more rapidly when she answers. “I do, Master.”

  “Nothing permanent,” a short woman barks from the crowd. “And nothing she can’t easily cover up.”

  I look over at the woman, irritated that she’s interrupting our scene. “And you are?”

  “Her agent.”

  “Ah…”

  I return my focus to Angela. I can understand why she needs this. Her life
is not her own.

  I lift her arms and secure her wrists with the rope.

  “Do you see how beautiful you are right now, slave?”

  She nods, biting her lip when I reach for the whip at my side. Still coiled, I bring it to her lips. “Kiss her.”

  As I watch Angela’s sensual lips kiss the leather that is about to caress her skin with its bite, I groan in her ear.

  “Oh, Master…” she moans, swaying in her bonds.

  I move away and unfurl it. Nobody knows who I am or what I can do, so I show them with a short demonstration, cracking Myrtle several times before I make her dance. She cuts through the air, singing her unique melody as I swing her over my head, behind me, and finish up by cracking her in rapid succession.

  Afterward, the room is silent—I have everyone’s full attention now.

  It starts with the sound of one person clapping, and soon the entire room echoes with applause. More people try to crowd into the room, but I order the door shut.

  I will allow no distractions during my session with Angela Laine.

  “First, I will warm up your skin, slave,” I explain in a low, sultry tone.

  She looks in the mirror, her gaze meeting mine.

  Instead of lightly licking her skin to begin with, I give her a lash that hints of things to come.

  She cries out, a virgin to Myrtle’s demanding caress.

  “Color?”

  Angela says nothing.

  “Color, slave?” I ask in a firmer tone.

  She stares at me. In the reflection in the mirror, her eyes sparkle with anticipation. “That is wickedly erotic! I want more.”

  When I don’t move, she quickly adds, “Green, Master.”

  I give her another lash of similar intensity and she cries out again. “More, more…”

  She is a greedy girl, and I want to teach her patience, so I let Myrtle fly, snapping it right next to her left ear.

  The terrified scream Angela lets out has her agent running forward to stop it.

  “One more step and the session stops now,” I snarl at the woman. “I will not risk an accident.”

  “Leave!” Angela screams at her. “Don’t you dare ruin this for me.”

  The tiny woman glares at us both, but finally makes her way out of the room.

  “Forget that ever happened,” Angela begs. “Please, Master.”

  I understand that she needs this even more than she knows, so I return to my position and let Myrtle fly, warming Angela’s skin before I take her down the path of sensual pain.

  No one in the room says a word as they listen to her impassioned screams and watch her squirm against the rope as she waits for each lash to fall, but she never cries—not one tear.

  Alternating the strength of each stroke, I keep her focused on me and teach Angela Laine the allure of my bullwhip as I build up her confidence to take more. “I admire your spirit, slave.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  When I feel she is finally ready, I leave the first mark.

  Angela starts whimpering afterward, but she still doesn’t cry.

  “Color?”

  “Green, Master. I need this.”

  I understand. There is freedom in the release of emotions that a skillful whipping can provide.

  Fulfilling my Angela’s wish, I thoughtfully place each mark. No one else will see them, but she will feel their sting as she moves about her day—and remember this moment.

  Before I end our session, I move close to her and whisper, “Where would you like the final lash to fall? This one will hurt more than the others.”

  She turns her head toward me, her eyes flashing with eager anticipation. “On my ass, Master.”

  I caress her right cheek exactly where it will land. “So be it.”

  I return to my position and announce for the benefit of those gathered, “Slave, I am well pleased. Now, for your reward.”

  I let the whip fly, hitting her right cheek hard enough that it ripples from the impact—but without breaking the skin.

  Angela cries out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

  I return to her again, nuzzling her neck as I privately compliment her on her first session with the bullwhip.

  Having been tear-free during the entire scene, I’m surprised to see tears in her eyes now when she confesses, “You can’t know what this meant to me.”

  “It was my pleasure, slave.”

  She laughs. “I never thought I would respond to that term, but when it comes from those sexy lips of yours…”

  I lean down and kiss her, both of us feeling the sexual tension the bullwhip has inspired.

  “I would like to repay you, Master. If you would be so kind as to untie me.” She looks at me with her sultry blue eyes.

  I untie her wrists and she instantly kneels at my feet. “May I?” she asks, looking at the substantial bulge in my leather pants.

  There is no way I can deny her at this point, so I nod.

  She undoes the button, then slowly unzips my pants. Her blue eyes grow wide when she sees just how big my cock really is.

  I hear several gasps from the crowd.

  Undeterred by my size, she takes it in both hands and starts running her tongue over the head of my shaft. I groan, my cock growing even harder with her skillful attention.

  Angela motions some of her friends to join her, and I suddenly find myself savoring the attention of multiple mouths.

  Thank God I’ve learned some level of self-control or I would have come in a matter of seconds and missed out on this fucking hot moment.

  I look down, groaning in ecstasy as four women lick, nibble, and suck my cock in front of an audience. When finally I can take no more, I’m overcome with the urge to shout, “There she blows!” just as I climax.

  Thankfully, my serious side wins out and I refrain.

  Instead, I let out a roar of pleasure as my cock surges with an epic ejaculation and I hear the girls squeal in delight. I watch with rapt attention as they lick my shaft, and each other, clean.

  I’m definitely going to owe Durov for this.

  Revelations

  Apparently, Angela needs no aftercare. After formally thanking me for the session, she grabs her clothes and takes off with her friends to chatter about the scene.

  As I clean my whip, I answer questions from those in attendance. Afterward, I seek out my friends.

  I find Thane in the room across from mine. He’s watching a scene with a sub and a Domme that involves fire, and he seems completely fascinated by it. When the Domme asks if anyone would like to try it under her supervision, he instantly volunteers.

  I have to hand it to Thane. He’s always trying new things, no matter how risky. I personally think fire play is far more dangerous than any bullwhip.

  I stay to watch as he takes off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves while the Domme explains what to do. She then dips one large swab into the jar of alcohol before handing it to him.

  Thane draws an invisible line down the middle of the naked girl’s back with the alcohol, then the Domme hands him the burning swab.

  “Tap and swipe it away,” she instructs.

  Thane nods, tapping the flame against the trail he’s just created. Fire races up the girl’s back. Then, with his bare hand, he swipes the flames away.

  Afterward, he looks over at the Domme, the exhilaration on his face easy to read. After several more successful tries, the Domme takes a step back.

  In typical Thane fashion, instead of diving right in, he hands the swabs to the Domme and leans down to speak with the sub on the table. None of us can hear what he’s saying, but I see the sub smile and nod her head.

  He takes the alcohol swab back, running a trail from the inside of her knee all the way up to her ass. He waits a few seconds before taking the other swab and lighting the alcohol on fire. The flame races up her leg and hovers on her ass. Thane’s hand follows the trail in one smooth motion as he swipes the fire from her leg, then spanks away the last of the f
lames on her ass.

  He moves to her other leg and repeats the process, lighting her up for all of us to admire. Then he gets a wicked glint in his eye as he runs the alcohol up the insole of her foot. Her toes wiggle from the ticklish cold, and then he taps it with the fire. She squeals as the flames caress the sensitive sole of her foot before Thane swipes them away.

  “Would you like to try that again?” he asks.

  “Yes. If it pleases you.”

  “It does,” he growls huskily.

  Thane teases her other foot with his fire play, making her squeal again. Afterward, he touches every area he’s caressed with the flames. Then he quietly thanks the sub and turns to the Domme.

  “I am indebted to you, Mistress Blaze.”

  She smiles. “I can see you have a natural affinity for fire play. Should you want further instruction, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

  Thane gathers his jacket and gives her a nod before walking over to me. I can see he’s still buzzing from the scene.

  We walk out of the room so we won’t disturb the others.

  “Into fire, are you, buddy?”

  “It’s a rush!”

  “You’ll never catch me near flames, but I have to hand it to you. You showed absolutely no fear in there.”

  “Only because Mistress Blaze was beside me. It’s the most dangerous BDSM play I’ve ever tried, but wow. That’s definitely part of the thrill.”

  “I’ve never seen you this pumped up before.” Clapping him on the back, I add, “But don’t ever ask me to help you practice.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “That reminds me…you still owe me for that practice session with the bullwhip.”

  “Trust me, I haven’t forgotten. I’ve been expecting you to cash in every day since.”

  He glances at me with a slight grin. “I’m waiting for the perfect opportunity. No reason to squander it.”

  I shake my head. “Lesson learned. Never agree to a simple bet with you. All I asked you to do was take a couple of lashes for me and, somehow, I think the payment is going to far outweigh that.”

  “I wholeheartedly agree.” He nods toward the other rooms. “Why don’t we find out what’s happened to Durov and Samantha?”