I went to stand too and Claudio put his hand on my forearm and stopped me.
“Guests need not stand.”
I noticed he didn’t stand either.
“Oh ...” I said, less than intelligently.
“The subs stand as a sign of respect when the Mistress of the establishment stands. Mind
you, no one told them to do that. I can’t remember when it started. But they do it all
the time now.”
“I see ...” I said. I was still clueless. I mean, what the hell was a ‘sub’?
There was movement in the semi-darkness. Andrea was leading Josephine out from the side
of the stage on a leash. They stopped in front of the large shadowy ‘X’ in centre stage.
A spotlight came on over a microphone at the side of the stage, and my eyes were drawn to
it.
Chantelle stepped into the beam of light, and the wall lighting in the hall dimmed. She
slightly adjusted the microphone and took a sip of the new drink in her hand.
“Welcome members and guests. As we clearly have the best behaved subbies here tonight,”
she smiled and shook her head, “I am going to provide an exhibition, and kindly Josephine
has volunteered.”
Warm, soft applause and “oohh’s” and “aaahh’s” came from behind us. Claudio and I joined
in, clapping quietly.
Three spotlights cut through the darkness and illuminated Josephine. Andrea had
disappeared. Everyone quietly applauded again. The plentiful light aided me in
identifying the shackles, wrist, and ankle cuffs that held her spread-eagled, and in
place. She was facing the audience and her eyes darted around, squinting through the
spotlights. She saw me and seemed to smile but it was hard to tell. She had a pink ball
strapped into her mouth between her teeth.
She was covered from shoulder to mid-thigh in a thin, gauzy, light-blue material, which
was almost see-through. The sight set my cock stirring in my pants. She kept looking at
me too.
“St. Andrew’s Cross,” said Claudio.
“The big X?”
“Yeah.”
Music with a strong beat started. Andrea reappeared from the left of the stage, carrying
a hot pink flogger across her hands. She kneeled down before Chantelle and bowed her
head, raising the flogger up like an offering. Before taking the flogger in her hands,
Chantelle shrugged the floor length, black silk dress she was wearing off her shoulders.
It dropped to the floor in an inky puddle and she stepped out of it. A round of quiet
applause and murmuring accompanied this startling event.
Chantelle stood proudly, dressed only in what appeared to be a quality set from
Victoria’s Secret. Tight black French knickers hugged her ass and she was almost busting
out of the black three-quarter cup bra she was wearing. She looked awesome and her body
was better than I imagined it would be. The look was made complete by the shiny, black,
knee-high boots she wore. Being up on the stage, and with the heels of the boots, she
looked a foot taller than she was. She stood strongly and proudly, without even a hint of
embarrassment. Her dark brown hair was up in a pony tail, and with a whip in her hand,
Chantelle looked like a dream and a nightmare at the same time. She took the flogger from
Andrea, who then scurried away. My cock stiffened further in my slacks.
Chantelle turned, facing Josephine on the cross. She raised the pink flogger in her hand
and began swinging it through the air in a side-to-side motion. It was almost like she
was watering the garden with a hose. She looked like she was in a trance. I watched her
carefully.
The handle was held quite low, and perpendicular to the ground. The movements were
laconic, almost lazy, or was it a timing thing? Either way, there was a kind of
disinterest in the way Chantelle swung the small pink whip through the air. Like she was
teasing Josephine. Close but not touching. The ‘swish swish swish’ of the flogger
through the air became the only sound in the hall as the crowd settled and was all but
silent.
I was getting uncomfortably hard and squirmed a little in my chair, rearranging my
package. Claudio leaned into my ear and whispered.
“Watch Josephine, Roger.”
Josephine was actually arching up off the cross trying to reach the whip. I couldn’t
believe it. Her fists were clenched and her body bowed in the middle as she strained to
push her hips forward. My breath caught in my chest as I watched her watching Chantelle.
Her eyes were ablaze with ... something. Passion? No. Excitement? Maybe. Need? It
couldn’t be. But that’s what seemed to fit best.
Need.
The ‘swish swish swish’ of the flogger became punctuated by a ‘snick’ sound as Chantelle
made contact with Josephine’s mid-section. By my reckoning, it was a few inches above her
pubic region. By raising or lowering her arm a similar distance, Chantelle began to
‘snick-flog’ Josephine from the top of her pussy, to just below her breasts. The way she
was using the flogger tonight was different from the way she showed me in her office this
afternoon. I was fascinated.
I looked around. Everyone was intently watching the scene. As I went from face to face
I wondered if Chantelle or Josephine had their attention? I shook my head clear of all
the questions I had, and turned back.
Josephine still was arching her body at the whip, but had begun whimpering and moaning
softly. The arc Chantelle passed the whip through was now wider. The ‘snick’ sound was
louder. My cock was harder. I pushed it down the leg of my slacks.
“She is so good at this.” It was Claudio again.
“Yes she seems to even like it.”
“I meant Chantelle, Roger.”
“Oh yes, of course.”
“... But you are right.”
“Hmmm?” I could barely drag my eyes away.
“Josephine. She enjoys the flogger.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Not like you imagine.”
“I see ...”
I could see a sheen of perspiration twinkling in the lights reflected off the two women.
Chantelle caught the tails of the flogger in her hand mid-swish. She lifted it up
something like a slingshot, and flicked it at Josephine, hitting her squarely on the slope
of her left breast.
Josephine moaned and trembled. Even her thighs were trembling! This was the method
Chantelle showed me against the desk in her office. I sat up straighter in my chair.
‘Fffwap’ was the only way I could make sense of the sound. ‘Fffwap ... fffwap ... fffwap
...’ with irregular pauses in between, like Chantelle was taking careful aim.
Josephine seemed to know which breast Chantelle was about to flog and twisted her body
after each ‘fffwap’, to present the other breast. Her soft moaning was almost continuous,
punctuated by an ‘ugh’, each time the tails of the flogger hit. It was intoxicating to
watch.
Josephine’s attire was becoming stuck to her body with sweat. She may as well have been
naked. For three or four minutes she had her breasts flogged. She let out little cries
of what seemed like anguish now and again. On one occasion I looked across at Claudio,
and he had his eyes fixed on the stage and was smiling and nodding softly to himself.
Like he knew what was going on. I was to find out later, Josephine had four orgasms while
being flogged. Four!
Chantelle ceased her front-on ‘attack’ and moved around to Josephine’s side. In this
position she was able to whip Josephine in the way one usually imagines a whipping would
take place. But in a manner similar to ‘watering the garden’, it was reasonably gentle,
and certainly not ‘hard’. The tails of the whip were directed at, and hit, Josephine’s
pubic mound. I know this not just because it looked like it, but because the shift of
thin material she was wearing had molded to her every curve. Even that of her pussy. It
was plainly visible.
Josephine’s reaction to Chantelle flogging her pussy was instantaneous. Chantelle was
muttering something to Josephine while swinging the flogger. I have no idea what it was.
All I know is, at the first strike, Josephine shuddered and moaned loudly. The crowd
burst into slightly more energetic applause and I joined in. On and on it went with the
strikes to Josephine’s pussy occasionally surprising her by being directed instead at her
breasts. She was dripping with perspiration, and still she strained against her bonds,
reaching with her body for the tails of the flogger.
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