CHAPTER 42: The Virgin’s Master, Part 5

… my Master’s strokes become harder each time.

Should I speak?

At some level, I feel that this should hurt, and it does, but I embrace the pain as it transmutes to pleasure and a growing inner desire. With each stroke, I gasp, jolting as the whip burns in, but I have no urge to stop this.

The tails snap inside my thighs, flaring against my clit and my swollen folds, scalding in. My body heaves and judders, but dreamlike, I feel no desire to cease the pain. Instead, the sense of warmth, of serenity, washes over me.

Michael, still watching me, tilts his head of a sudden, eyes widening, looking at me closely. He steps forward, taking me by the chin. “Charlotte? Charlotte... Say something to me.”

I don’t wish to speak, but now, the lashing has ceased, and my Master, coming around to look at my face, remains silent, stroking my mouth with a finger, then kissing me on the lips.

Between them, they untie me from the horse and, lifting me, limp and compliant, onto the large bed, lie me gently on my back.

“Master?”

“Yes, Charlotte?”

“I want you inside me.”

He smiles, unbuttons his shirt and steps out of his jeans. Michael follows suit.

My Master whispers “Open your legs, Charlotte. Let me in.” And dreamily, I raise and part my knees.

As he lies between my thighs, my Master’s cock pushes at my engorged entrance, easing inside, and I cry out at the incredible sensation as he enters me. As he penetrates, my body welcomes him, pulsing and trembling, an electric response that seethes through me in a bubbling, brimming surge towards orgasm.

Michael sits to one side of us, stroking my face. His cock sits high against his stomach, quivering in time to his own heartbeat, and to the rocking movement of the bed under my Master’s thrusting.

My climax comes quickly, rising from my glowing depths, to pulse waves through my core and thighs. I almost weep as I hug close to my Master’s chest, at the exquisite gift that he gives me. My scalding cunt clutches and throbs, as I arch and scream.

Above me, eyes soft in his stern face, still moving within me, my Master watches as my orgasm passes, before, his own climax arising, his head drops and he murmurs something soft as he spurts into me.

Immediately, he withdraws, rolls away from me, and Michael takes his place, smoothly penetrating my already slick passage. Despite having already climaxed, my pussy clenches at him as he enters me, my Golden Lover, thrusting with slow steady movements of his long beautiful cock. He is so gentle, stroking my face, kissing my breasts, massaging my shoulders with his strong hands as he builds to his own climax.

Eyes squeezed closed, he gasps and jerks as he comes, grinding into me, pressing tight and filling me with his creamy stream.

Stated and gasping, he lies still, deep inside me, for a long moment, before, heaving himself away from me, he rolls aside.

“Come on, Charlotte. Let’s get you home,” says my Master.

Between them, the two men raise me to a standing position, button the beautiful dress back onto me, and then Michael, sliding his arms under me, lifts me; carrying me through the crowded watchers, out of the building back to the car. He places me on the rear seat and then gets in beside me, his arms clasped around me.

The cool outside air jolts me awake again. Shaking my head to disperse my strange, dreamlike state, “Are we going home?”

“We are,” says my Master from the driver’s seat. “How do you feel, Charlotte?”

“Um, I’m fine. A bit odd that’s all. I’m not sure what happened to me there, but I’m fine really.”

Michael turns my face to his, looking at me carefully. “Yes, you are alright.” And he kisses me on the forehead.

My Master twists backwards briefly to look at me, and at Michael, then nods and returns to his driving.

Back in the apartment, despite my protests, I am put to bed.

I am not sleepy. I insist on sitting up, so Michael, speechlessly, presses a mug of hot chocolate into my hands, quietly laughing as he does so, then sits on the bed beside me.

“What happened back there?” I demand.

“It happens sometimes in those situations,” says my Master, perched on the bed-edge to the other side. “A combination of sexual arousal and reaction to pain produces endorphins in the brain...” He sees my blank expression.  “The brain’s pleasure chemicals...” he explains. “It can produce a sort of trance. Some call it ‘sub-space’. You went in there faster than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“And you’ve seen a few, Master?”

He gives me a long look. “Yes, Charlotte. I’ve seen a few, as has Michael.”

Hugging my mug of chocolate, I wonder how much I can safely say. How much do I want to say?

“Master?”

“Mmm?”

“Marcie said...”

He and Michael glance at each other. He gives me a long look. “Marcie said... What?”

I gulp down some of the chocolate, then gasp at my burned tongue. My Master takes the mug from my hand, placing it on a side-table.

“Marcie said what?”

Feeling uncomfortable, but knowing that I had better finish what I started. “She said that you, both of you, used to be at the clubs all the time, that you had...” I choke on my words.

“Go on...”

“That the two of you had been through every ‘sub’ for miles...”

“Any more?” His expression is carefully blank.

“And that suddenly, you had stopped a few months ago. That you both vanished and everyone wondered what had happened.”

Michael stares up at the ceiling. My Master looks down, apparently studying the pile of the carpet. After a long hesitation, he speaks.

“You happened, Charlotte. You. You happened to both of us, and a game we had been playing together for years, suddenly wasn’t very... rewarding, anymore.”

He and Michael exchange another, longer look. He continues. “As I told you Charlotte, neither of us believed you would come back to us after that first week. But we had lost our appetite for the games we had been playing, and then... you did come back. And you kept returning to us.” He takes my hand and kisses it. “Why would we go chasing after something that had become pointless, empty, for us, when we have you?”

Michael finally speaks. “You never talk of a boyfriend or another man. We thought you would, but you don’t...?”

I speak slowly, choosing my words. “No, there’s no boyfriend, no-one else. I did try, went on a couple of dates, but it wasn’t the same. I wanted you, both of you. Whenever some guy got interested, we would go out, have a couple of drinks, see a movie maybe, but I just found myself thinking about when I am here...” I trail off, at a loss as to where I go from here.

Michael leans across, and kisses me, full on the mouth. It is long, and passionate and loving, and says everything that words struggle with. As his arms enfold me, I return the kiss.

“So...” says my Master, watching us from the side. “Where do we go from here?”