Maggie and the Master (9 page)

‘Sorry, mistress,' he whined, and Max smiled as Maggie's face registered her surprise and discomfort.

‘On your knees, Maggie,' he commanded, and she knelt at his feet, trying to avoid the longing look of Freya's slave. She noticed that around his cock and balls, which were shaved and oiled, was a series of rings and leather straps, linked to the harness that appeared to keep him in a state of semi-arousal.

Mrs Griffin departed to the kitchen and Freya and Max were talking again. Under normal circumstances, at any normal dinner party, Maggie would have been chatting with them, or at least been politely involved in their conversation, a glass of quality wine in her hand. But here, crouched on the floor, it seemed that their chatting bore no relation to her life or where she was in the order of things.

Guido, smartly dressed in the guise of a butler, appeared and announced that dinner was served. Max smiled to his beautiful guest. ‘Ah, splendid,' he said. ‘Shall we, dear Freya?' and indicated that she should accompany him.

Freya again tugged Beau's leash and to Maggie's total amazement the man scurried behind her on all fours. When Max took her lead she looked up at him in silent appeal.

‘Come on, Maggie,' he said, and to her shame she also followed on her hands and knees behind him, cringing with the degradation of it all.

‘Nice markings,' Freya said casually, her fingertips brushing Maggie's welted buttocks. Max nodded his appreciation for the compliment; in that instant Maggie felt more like a prize possession than ever.

Across the hallway heavy double doors led into an elegant dining room, decorated in cream and the richest crimson.

A long mahogany table, set with crystal and silver and an ornate silver candelabrum, dominated it. Without being told Beau got to his feet and pulled Freya's chair out. Maggie decided she'd better follow suit for her master, and noticed the magnificent table was laid for only two.

Only two place settings?

She was hungry and had assumed, wrongly and somewhat foolishly it now seemed, that they would all be dining together. Instead Guido handed her a dish and indicated that she should serve Freya and Max, and as she began to she noticed that on a sideboard were two heavy-bottomed dog bowls. As she completed and task and set the serving dish down Guido nodded towards the bowls. She looked at him uncertainly, and then realised that she was supposed put food into them too - food she knew was for Beau and for her. She stiffened and stood her ground, but Guido nodded again and reluctantly she spooned vegetables into the two bowls, and then Beau added meat.

She looked down at the food. No knives, no forks, just fingers and tongues - like animals. This was impossible, but then Guido nodded towards the table where Beau was shaking out a linen napkin and settling it on Freya's lap. The elegant blonde appeared to take no notice of her slave; instead she gave Max her full attention, laughing gaily at some comment he'd made. Maggie looked at Max, who gave her an almost imperceptible nod of encouragement, so she shook out his napkin and dropped it onto his lap. He rewarded her by running a hand over her thigh, but it did very little to settle her.

Beau served the wine, while Max and Freya continued chatting. Beau then stood beside his mistress until she looked up and said, sounding decidedly bored with his presence, ‘You may go and eat now.'

Guido placed both bowls on the floor side by side. Beau was immediately on his hands and knees again to eat, while Maggie stood looking down at him and the vacant dish. Guido had cut the food up into small pieces, and she was very hungry, but there was no way she was going to grovel like Beau.

‘Is there something wrong with your dinner?' said Max, and it was obvious from his tone that he didn't take kindly to having his meal interrupted.

‘No, master,' Maggie said contritely.

‘Then eat it,' he ordered, and indicated the bowl with a sharp hand gesture.

Maggie looked at him beseechingly. ‘Please, master, I can't,' she began, her voice quavering. There was no way she was going to eat like an animal, no matter how hungry she was. Meanwhile Beau was snaffling up his dinner like some obscene parody of an obedient pet dog.

‘Can't, or won't?' said Freya icily.

Maggie looked down at her feet, painfully aware of her nakedness, accentuated rather than covered by the leather harness.

‘Answer me!' the blonde snapped angrily, her veneer of refined elegance vanishing in an instant.

There was a long pause while Maggie summoned her resolve, and then at last she said determinedly, ‘Won't.' She was instantly aware of the tense silence in the room as Max, his guest, and Guido all stared at her in apparent disbelief, and the grovelling man beside her stopped shovelling his face into the bowlful of food and looked up at her, his chin and nose smeared in rich sauce and his mouth open in shock.

‘Won't,
mistress
,' Beau whispered sarcastically, but it was too late for Maggie to retract her insolence.

‘Take her away!' Max roared at Guido, waving his hand in dismissal and throwing his linen napkin onto the table beside his meal, as though she had just ruined his appetite and the whole evening. ‘Get her out of my sight!'

‘Big mistake,' said Guido, as he marched Maggie out of the dining room and down the hall. ‘Showing him up in front of his guests. Big mistake.'

‘But I didn't,' Maggie protested.

Guido snorted. ‘That's not how he'll see it.' He led her upstairs, unlocked a door at the far end of the landing, and pushed her inside, the room beyond making Maggie gasp with shock.

It was a dungeon. There was no other word for it. In one corner was an awful rack, and in another a large, foreboding cross-shaped frame. The walls were hung with whips and crops and gags and manacles, clamps and clips and all manner of other things, many of which Maggie didn't recognise and had no idea what they might be used for.

She turned to Guido. ‘Let me go back,' she pleaded, unnerved by the ominous room. ‘I'll eat my dinner, I will, it was a mistake. Just take me back. Honestly Guido, it was a silly mistake.'

Guido's smile widened. ‘You're right about that,' he said, ‘but it's too late to go back now. I suggest you cooperate, because if you don't it will be worse for you… a lot worse.'

Maggie shivered. What choice was there for her?

‘Come closer,' he ordered, and caught hold of her wrists.

A while later, after he and Freya had eaten and taken coffee and brandy, Max opened the door of the dungeon room and smiled. Guido had done a good job on his little charge. Maggie was nicely bound, blindfolded, her neck and arms held in a padded wooden yoke, holding her reasonably comfortably with her arms at shoulder level, her legs spread wide apart and manacled to a metal spreader-bar.

He watched his latest acquisition straining to turn, trying to make out who was there and what would follow. Beside him Freya smiled appreciatively and unfastened her tailored jacket, beneath which she wore a shiny black leather bodice. As he watched she dropped the jacket and then her skirt, rather like a seductive snake shedding its skin. Beau appeared and hurriedly picked them up, folding them neatly over a chair, his eyes bright with anticipation as his mistress stripped down to her beautifully styled leather basque. It was cut high to make the most of her long legs and the creamy flesh of her shapely thighs.

‘May I?' she asked Max, without taking her eyes off Maggie's restrained form.

He smiled. ‘Of course, my dear,' he said. ‘Help yourself.'

Maggie trembled, responding anxiously to his voice.

Freya smiled calculatingly and surveyed the tools on offer, before taking down a fine leather whip.

In the restraints Maggie stiffened as she felt the approach of what for her was an unseen figure.

Freya walked around her, surveying her with assurance, pinching her nipples, feeling between her legs, pushing a finger deep inside Maggie's vulnerable sex and then drawing the slick juices out and across Beau's waiting lips. He licked her fingers and whined expectantly for more.

‘Nice and tight, Max,' the woman purred appreciatively. ‘What's her arse like?'

Max smiled. ‘Untried, Freya,' he disclosed. ‘It's early days yet and you know my policy; it is for me and me alone. At least the first time.'

Freya laughed, the cultured sound like a tinkling piano. ‘You are such a traditionalist, dear Max,' she mused. ‘And besides, she'd need stretching whoever fucks her tight little virgin rear passage. Perhaps I can help you with that?' She ran her fingers over Maggie's buttocks, before working them into the warm valley between them.

Max watched Maggie react to the blonde's conversation with interested, seeing the tension in her neck and back, catching the slight nibble of her lower lip.

Beau whined again and leant up against Maggie's legs, like a cat, his expression hungry, and Freya's expression betrayed her affection and indulgent attitude towards her slave. She nodded and he began to touch and stroke, his fingers and tongue working into Maggie's wet quim.

The bound girl shivered as Freya drew the soft strands of the whip across her hips. They dangled against Beau's face and shoulders but he seemed oblivious to them, far keener to explore Maggie's undefended sex.

‘Enough,' Freya snapped, and barely pausing for Beau to crawl clear she brought the whip down across Maggie's back. The strands wrapped around her, catching her breasts and making her jerk and shriek, although Max guessed that in her heighten state of anticipation even the lightest blow would extract such a reaction.

‘One!' she gasped, her muscles tightening.

Freya laughed. ‘Oh, there is no need to count tonight, my dear,' she said. ‘There will be too many to keep track of.'

After six strokes Max held up a hand and took something else down from the wall. Freya's eyes sparkled approvingly. ‘What a wonderful idea, dear Max,' she purred. ‘How very remiss of me.'

Behind her mask Maggie was struggling with a sense of panic, and worse still, the warm glow of pleasure that was already gathering in her belly. What dark magic was this? She closed her eyes tight shut. It was as if Max Jordan had opened a doorway in her soul into a world she had never really believed existed.

A female hand cupped her breast, and she smelt expensive perfume. Freya pinched her nipple between finger and thumb and then drew it between her lips and sucked. She groaned against the supple flesh and began to tease Maggie's sex, teasing the wet lips that were held open by the split leather harness. Maggie wriggled, trying to get away from the fingers, although she knew she was already treacherously wet.

‘Oh, don't struggle, honey,' purred Freya, her tone heavy with sensual intent, and an instant later something snapped onto Maggie's right nipple, making her cry out in shock and pain, and immediately the hurt was repeated on her other nipple. Maggie writhed desperately, trying to get away from the intense pain of the clamps as they chewed her erect buds.

‘Gently, my pretty,' murmured Freya, and Maggie shivered, letting the sensation settle. It was hot and raw and made her eyes fill with tears, but after a few moments by some miracle her body began to adjust, as if, once the pressure was understood, it could cope. She took a long low breath, letting her body and mind settle. It was going to be all right after all, wasn't it?

And then Freya pinched the lips of her sex. Maggie froze, felt the brush of some kind of clamp on the delicate folds of flesh, and held her breath. ‘Please, no… no,' she gasped. ‘No…'

The jaws sprang shut and Maggie screamed. The pain was like nothing she had ever felt and tears meandered down her cheeks.

‘Steady,' consoled Freya, pressing her lips to Maggie's. ‘Don't fight it, breath slowly and relax into it. It will be all right, just breath slowly.'

Maggie tried to accept the throbbing discomfort, and then felt Beau licking her again.

‘That's enough now, slave,' Freya intervened, and this time Maggie moaned not with pain but with frustration as the grovelling tongue left her.

Then before she had time to compose herself she heard something cut through the air and then screamed again as the cane found its mark. Her body thrust forward and Freya caned her again across her defenceless bottom. The first scream seemed to have barely died before another surpassed it. As her body arched the clamps on her nipples and labia seemed to bite even harder.

Maggie thought she would go mad from the torment, and then there was another stroke as brutal as the first two. Her nipples ached and her buttocks glowed. Again the blows exploded, and again and again. Maggie could hear someone sobbing and begging for mercy, and realised it was her.

Max's fingers tightened around his brandy glass. His cock ached with desire as Maggie sobbed and writhed deliciously in her restraints. She was truly magnificent. Her toned body was covered with a gloss of perspiration, her whole being alight with the pain, and yet he could also sense the tide of arousal behind it. Beau crouched at her feet like a dog waiting for leftovers. Freya's eyes were like glowing coals, her mouth open, her expression alive with excitement and anticipation.

At last she dropped the cane on the floor and grabbed Maggie's hair, wet with sweat and oil. ‘Had enough?' she spat breathlessly.

‘Yes, mistress,' Maggie sobbed.

‘Good.' Freya caught hold of the clamps on her nipples and pulled her closer still. ‘You will do as you're told next time.'

Maggie gasped with pain. ‘Yes, mistress,' she promised. ‘I will, mistress.'

Freya pulled off the clamps and Maggie wailed again as the woman massaged the blood-flow back, the apparent kindness a double-edged sword for the rush of blood was all the more painful for the stimulation. The clamp on Maggie's sex lips was also removed and then Freya looked at Guido, who was watching with interest.