Buying the Virgin

Chapter 43: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Forty-Three

My Master finally breaks through the crowd. “Charlotte! Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“Um, yes Master. I’m fine. No, I’m not hurt… I …er…”

I run out of words and turn in appeal to Michael.

“Steve and Marcie didn’t want to take ‘No’ for an answer. Charlotte explained the rules of consent to

them.” Michael’s tone is bland, but his eyes are bubbling with laughter.

Now it is clear that I am unharmed, my Master is also clearly struggling not to laugh. Each holding an

arm courteously for me, he, with Michael, accompanies me to their chosen room.

“Where did you learn to punch like that?” he hisses out of the side of his mouth. “I saw him go down.

You have a fantastic right-cross.”

“Girl’s regional boxing champion in my year at high school,” I explain. I am worried. “Have I gotten us

into trouble, Master?”

He chuckles. “I really, really, don’t think so. What’s he going to say? That a female sub, six inches

shorter than him, laid him out on the floor with a single blow?”

“A girl’s got to be able to look after herself, Master.”

He shakes his head. “You still manage to surprise me Charlotte. If I’d known you could do that, I might

have trodden more carefully, the night I took your virginity.”

Michael is beaming.

“What’s Michael looking so pleased about?” I mutter.

“You seriously don’t know?”

“No, Master, I don’t. I thought you were both going to be mad at me.”

“You were jealous, Charlotte.” I saw your face, and so did he. Marcie wouldn’t leave him alone, and you

were jealous over Michael. You just proved to him that you feel strongly enough about it, to fight for

him.”

“Looks like we’re all learning things about ourselves these last couple of days doesn’t it Master?”

*****

The two of them lead me to the same room we used on the previous occasion we were here. Laid out

as a Medieval dungeon, the walls are racked with flails and whips. There is a padded bench with

restraints at either end, a very large bed, and a sort of diagonal cross, again with cuffs for wrists and

ankle.

A man is waiting there, handsome in a severe sort of way. He is tall and fair-haired, with cold, blue

eyes. He stands, leaning back against the padded bench.

“Ah, James, Michael, there you are. And this must be Charlotte.”

My Master turns to me. “Charlotte, this is Kris. He is going to be entertaining you for a while now.”

I falter. “Master?”

He returns my gaze, levelly, unsmiling. “Intense? Yes?”

I drop my head. “Yes, Master.”

Michael gives my hand a squeeze, then, his hand on my back, propels me gently forward towards Kris.

I stand before him, uncertain as to what is expected of me. Kris circles me, looking me over, almost

stalking. “I was not here last time you visited us Charlotte. You made rather a good impression, I

gather, on that occasion. You have made even more of an impression tonight.”

He reaches over to one of the racks of ‘tools’, making a show of choosing, before picking out a riding

crop. Nearly three feet long, supple and intimidating, it is leather-bound, with a small black tongue on

the end.

Swallowing hard, I begin to wonder what I have let myself in for.

But my pussy is purring….

How can I get off on this...??? How?

Kris, still standing back, looking, strokes me with the tip of the crop, tracing the outline of my body

through the dress.

“Nice outfit, Charlotte. A gift from your Masters, I imagine. They always did have good taste.”

“Yes, Kris. A gift from my Masters.”

Sharply, he tilts my chin up with the tip of the crop. “You will address me as ‘Sir’, and only if I invite you

to speak.”

If he invites me?

Nervously, I glance at my Master, at Michael. My Master is expressionless. Michael lowers his eyelids

in the smallest of reassuring gestures. But both are watching me closely.

Intense? Yes. And I asked for this.

The crop taps at the back of my neck, at the fastenings on the halter of my dress. Kris addresses my

Master.

“Take it off her.”

My Master steps up close behind me, undoing the two tiny buttons which are all that hold the dress in

place. He says quietly, “If you don’t want to really feel it from him, be sure to do as you are told. Kris is

not so… restrained, as I am.” Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

Restrained?

The sparkling dress slides down, puddling at my feet, leaving me dressed only in black lace panties

and high heeled shoes. Kris bends to pick up the dress, laying it carefully to one side, then continues

his circling, caressing my now naked skin with the crop. He traces the soft leather tongue of the crop,

with the lightest of touches, over my cheeks and lips, the curve of my waist, my loins, my breasts.

Inside, I am growing warm and liquid. Outside, the flush of arousal is rising in a wave over my stomach

and breasts, colouring my face.

“Very good Charlotte. I like a sub who knows what is expected of her.” The leather tongue circles my

nipples, which crinkle to hard nubs.

“Do you like to be watched Charlotte? You may speak.”

“Watched, Sir?”

“Yes, watched. Do you enjoy an audience while you are being fucked?”

I hesitate, then, “Yes, Sir. I do.”

“Good. Turn around.”

I turn to find that the viewing gallery to the room is packed. Startled, I look all around; so many

people…

“You have made quite an impact tonight, Charlotte. I suspect that some of them just want to see you

fucked. And some want to see a sub punished for stepping out of line. What do you think? Should I

punish you for that? You may speak.”

“Sir, I don’t understand you.”

The crop is under the line of my breasts, lifting their heavy weight a little. “Charlotte, I saw your

performance out there. You hit a Master. No sub should do that, whatever the provocation. Your correct

course of action should have been to call your Masters for assistance; not to lash out.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

The crop swipes across my nipples, both of them, with an accuracy that speaks of much practice. It

stings, and I yelp. Electricity sizzles down through me, and my panties flood.

“I did not tell you to speak.”

I bow my head and remain silent.

He continues. “Your Masters have put limits on what I may do with you this evening Charlotte. I thought

you would like to know that. But, within those limits, I’m going to discipline you for what you did.”

I am trembling with… What? Fear? Anticipation? Arousal? My pussy streaming hot juices, I am afire.

He’s barely touched me.

“James, Michael. If you would.”

My Masters each take me by a hand, bending me forward over the bench. Arms outstretched to either

side of me, my face pressed sideways against the padding, I am shackled to the hoops at either end.

They start to cuff my ankles too, legs spread, but Kris interrupts them. “No need for that. I like to see

my subs struggle. I’ll enjoy watching her trying to escape.”

He reaches under me, hauling my hips upwards. Shoulders down, ass up, I am displayed and

presented. Panting now, in the half-light of this ‘dungeon’, a hundred pairs of eyes on me, my world

feels surreal, dreamlike.

Am I trancing again?

The crop slides down my spine, slowly, sensually, sending a shiver that runs through me and raising

goosebumps along my arms and thighs.

“You can keep the shoes on Charlotte, but you don’t need these.”

Kris tugs at my panties, pulling them down to my ankles with the tip of the crop. “Step out of them.”

I obey, struggling a little, to get them past the spiked heels of my shoes.

Shoes kick inside my ankles, not too gently. “Spread ‘em. Just because you’re not cuffed there, doesn’t

mean that everyone doesn’t get a good view.” He pushes my ankles wider apart. Then, the crop

strokes down the back of my knees, my calves, and back up, inside my thighs, tracing the lines of my

sex.

“You might like to know Charlotte, what some of the limits are that your Masters put on me for tonight.

Would you like to know?”

I have not been given permission to speak, so I nod.

“They tell me you are going on a beach holiday, so you will be swimming, wearing bikinis and so on.

So, they have told me, that I cannot leave marks on you that will last more than a day or so.”

The crop-tip probes between my legs, over my clit. “That gives me quite a lot of lee-way you know.

Some places just don’t show marks……” And the leather tongue glides over my pussy lips.”

“If it was purely up to me,” says Kris, “I’d have you covered in stripes for your holiday, just to show you

what it means to behave yourself, but I can’t do that….” The tip pushes in, probing into my pussy.

“However, there are other options….”

“How many cocks d’you think you can suck in a night Charlotte? Shall we find out? There’s any number

of volunteers out there. I’m going to get you good and wet first. That won’t take long. You’re dripping

already.”

He dips fingers into my pussy, pulls them out, glistening with my juices. He holds them up, displaying to

the crowd, then sucks them clean.

“And do you know what, Charlotte? I’m a bit of an expert with this thing. I know just how hard I can

come down on you, and how much of a mark it will leave.” And with that, the crop comes down hard on

my presented butt, sending white heat slashing across me.

I scream, reflexively struggling against the pain, trying to escape it, but at the same moment, my pussy

convulses and gushes.

Kris kneels behind me, licking at me. He peels my pussy lips apart, and runs his tongue through me,

pushing inside and licking me out.

“Wonderful,” he says. “Just as I thought. You love it.” Then he bends closer to me, speaking more

quietly, although loudly enough for my Masters to hear. “Tell me Charlotte. What are your safety words?

You may speak.”

“Yellow, Sir. And Red.”

“Good girl. You’re learning. Now, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to suck cock, while I fuck

you from behind. Your Masters too. Every cock you suck, if I don’t think you’re trying hard enough,

you’re going to get another kiss from my friend here.” And he taps my stinging ass with the crop, to

make his meaning clear.

“And for the avoidance of doubt, I expect to see you swallow. Are we clear? You may speak.”

“Yes, Sir.”