Chapter 39

Xavier examined his handiwork. It was one of his better setups, and yet he felt slightly ill at the thought
of actually stepping back and letting everyone touch her.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

The word was a mantra in his mind. In less than a day Mae had invaded his mind and soul, making him
want things he couldn’t have. The more submission she gave, the more drawn to her he was.

He needed to see others touching her, needed the emotional distance it would provide. She could use
her safe word—if she did he’d end the scene, rather than just halting it—but he had a sinking feeling
that she wouldn’t. Mae had yet to back down from a challenge.

Her pussy was lovely—wet and pink, begging to be pleasured. For someone like Mae, who wasn’t used
to scenes that didn’t include sexual fulfillment, the past twenty hours must have been torture. He had
no doubt that she was more than ready to come, no matter who it was who touched her.

Still her admission that she would rather continue to be denied pleasure and wait for his touch was like
gasoline thrown on the fire of his desire for her.

Xavier laid his hand on her stomach. She tensed, then relaxed, almost as if she’d realized who was
touching her.

That was the last straw. Xavier stepped away, leaving her alone and exposed in her bindings. He
looked at the crowd of fifteen or so people who had gathered.

“Mae is available for you to enjoy. Fingers and mouths only. No fucking.” Mae made a strangled sound
behind the gag. Xavier raised his voice, making sure everyone heard him. “She is not allowed to
come.”

Several people chuckled. “What happens if she does come?” someone called out.



“If she orgasms then the breast whipping she has coming will be much more severe.” He put menace in
the words, wanting to scare Mae, giving her the fear as a tool to help control her body’s reaction to
what was about to happen.

She moaned, her hips lifting slightly.

Then again, if she was, as he suspected, deeply masochistic, the idea of a severe breast whipping
might only arouse her further.

Several people stepped forward. When the Dom who’d helped Mae admit her desires pulled up a chair,
positioning it so he could sit while playing with her pussy, Xavier tapped him on the shoulder. He smiled
knowingly and silently gave up his seat.

A pretty female slave was kneeling by Mae’s head, kissing her neck just above the collar, while her
owner fished an ice cube from his drink and ran it over Mae’s belly. Xavier had known that every inch of
flesh he left exposed would be considered fair game, which is why he’d been sure to cover her breasts,
saving those for himself.

Planting his hands on the barrel, he leaned forward and blew across her wet pussy lips, letting her
know someone was there.

Mae was breathing heavily through her nose, and he watched her pussy clench. Xavier used two
fingers to further part her outer labia. Her vagina was lovely, the soft folds swollen with arousal,
begging to be touched and fucked.

Xavier doubted she’d be able to keep from coming. The mind could not always control the body, but he
knew she’d fight the orgasm in an effort to obey. She’d fail, but he wanted to be the one to cause that
failure. He wanted to feel her struggle for obedience.

Smiling, Xavier lowered his mouth to her clit.



* * *

No. No. No.

Mae whimpered into the hated gag as fingers opened her pussy. She was doing her best to ignore the
person kissing the sensitive skin of her neck and the cold brush of ice over her stomach, but she
wouldn’t be able to ignore direct stimulation of her sex.

Something soft brushed her clit, the barest touch. She jumped, a spike of pleasure lancing through her.
Clenching her belly muscles, she braced herself to try to stop from coming.

Another soft flick of her clit, and now a finger was stroking her inner labia in a smooth rhythm. Maybe if
it continued like this she’d be able to fight it.

Lips pressed over her, a tongue stroked her clit, and Mae almost came.

Jerking her hips up, she sucked air in through her nose, gasping at the sudden, sharp pleasure. She’d
moved enough to dislodge the person’s mouth, giving her a chance to regain control.

The reprieve from stimulation was brief. As soon as her ass hit the barrel the tongue was back on her
clit. Again she tried to lift her hips and break contact, but didn’t have the leverage to hold the position
for long. The hand running ice over her stomach applied pressure, keeping her in place.

Fingers toyed with her pussy lips, pinching and tugging them, then a finger circled the entrance to her
body, pressing in just enough to remind her how achingly empty she was.

Something thick—it had to be at least two fingers—pressed against her entrance and Mae stiffened.
She wanted to be filled, to be possessed in this primal way, but she wanted it to be Master Xavier who
did it.



The tongue stroked her clit again, this time paired with a sudden thrust that filled her aching pussy.

Mae couldn’t hold back the orgasm. She screamed, her legs pulling against the straps, her hips arching
up. She started to move her arms but the person kissing her neck held them down. Mae bit down on
the ball as the orgasm continued to ripple through her.

The mouth and hands between her legs didn’t stop. They went to work on her clit in earnest, alternating
flicks with long licks. The fingers inside her twisted, now rubbing her g-spot with each thrust. There
were more hands and mouths on her—stroking the exposed lower curves of her breasts, nipping the
soft skin of her hip and massaging her upper arms.

Mae sobbed into the gag, her skull thumping against the wood as she sobbed in a combination of
exquisite pleasure and disappointment that she hadn’t been able to obey Xavier’s order. Not only had
she failed to keep from orgasming, it had taken less than five minutes for her to lose the battle.

And as much as she regretted that, defeat felt very good.

The mouth and fingers on her pussy stopped their sweet torment, only to return a moment later. It took
only a second for her to realize that there was someone new enjoying her pussy—the touch was
different, not as precise. The realization that she really was helpless—that she couldn’t control who or
how many people touched her—made her shudder in submissive delight. Though she’d come when
she shouldn’t have, she wasn’t draped over this barrel, exposed for use, because she wanted to be.

She was here because her Master wanted her like this.

There was a rush of cold air on her saliva-damp neck as the person there left. She could tell someone
else had taken their place, and she knew, though she couldn’t see, that it was Xavier. She turned her
face to him, straining her head to reach him.

Fingers brushed her cheek, then her hair. “Did you come, Red?”



His dark voice washed over her. She nodded, wishing she could tell him she was sorry, tell him that
she’d tried.

“I’m going to punish you for that.”


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