Testing the Submissive: The Story & Confessions of a Masochist (11 page)

I stood up once he gave me the green light, and I must say, it felt so good to stretch my legs after being crammed under that desk for so long.  My first few steps were taken gingerly, but I tried to hide any discomfort. That’s when he put his hand on my throat. He squeezed. Not hard enough to hamper my breathing, but enough to remind me of who was in control. He used his foot to tap at the inside of my ankles, forcing me to spread my legs slightly further apart.

Lewis spoke:
“You did a suitable job, whore. It was passable. Maybe one day I’ll arrange a massive blow-bang for you to really get some practice sucking cock. I bet you can still taste my cum in your mouth? There are three loads in your tummy. I hope you enjoyed your lunch today. Do not eat anything else until dinner. But let’s add the taste of a bit of dessert to your slut-mouth, shall we?”

Then he reached under my dress, and two of his fingers poked into my cunt. He circled my clit, and then avoiding it, probed deeper until he felt the material. He pinched the lace and tugged on it. He tugged more and more, until the thong eventually slipped right out. The scent was obvious. I was so aroused.

“Kneel,” he instructed.

I immediately fell to the ground, and my eyes lowered to see his feet. Those same feet that teased me for the last few hours.

“Open your fucking mouth. Don’t take this out until you are out of the building. Understand?”

My eyes still lowered, I nodded. My thong was soaked as he stuffed it into my mouth.  I would walk all the way outside with it still there.

We walked out of his office and headed for the elevator. Most of the staff was buzzing around doing their thing, not paying any attention, except for his assistant, who looked at us quite quizzically as we passed. Poor girl had that ‘where did she come from?’ look on her face.  I blushed deeply, a faint smile on my face, notwithstanding there was a soaked thong stuffed in my mouth.

We didn’t say a word as we waited for the elevator.  When it did arrive and the doors opened, I stepped inside alongside the three other people already standing inside. 

We smiled at each other as I turned to face him, and the doors closed between us.

Two months
later…

“How about a new piece of jewelry today?” 

What wife doesn’t like hearing those words to start her day?

“Your clit hood will be pierced today.”
Yikes! Not exactly what I was thinking.

I was both excited and apprehensive at the same time. I’d endured enough pain that I knew I could tolerate the pain itself. But, it’s a needle after all, and not many people love the idea of being jabbed by a sharp pointed object, me included.

Lewis had already done his homework in advance. Intelligently, he selected not a tattoo shop, but rather a shop dedicated exclusively to piercings. He had already met with the two owners in advance, Melissa and Sadie, and they answered all his questions. Off we went.

Once there, I had to fill out the consent form. The anticipation was making me squirm and tingle like crazy.  I felt myself getting wet, and yet,  I worried my arousal would be noticed once the procedure got underway.  My only condolence was that, perhaps they’d seen it before.

Lewis and I picked out the jewelry together, which was no easy task.  We were torn between a smoke diamond and a purple crystal. In the end, the purple crystal won out, largely because it’s my favorite color and was bright and pleasant. Melissa informed me that the needle was 16-gauge, as far as size.

We were all set. Consent form signed, ring selected, briefing complete, questions answered. I asked to use the restroom.

“Don’t worry,” Melissa whispered to me, “everyone has a nervous-pee beforehand.”

I let out a little giggle. The truth was I didn’t need to pee however, I wanted to clean myself up because I was soaked from the excitement, and a little embarrassed about it.  Once in there, I actually considered getting myself off, just to settle down, but wisely decided I better get out there.

Melissa walked me into the room, where Lewis was sitting and waiting, and where the chair awaited me. Sadie would do the deal.  She was sanitizing the chair, and then put down one of those blue medical absorbent pads for me to sit on. I removed my jeans and panties, and then folded my panties and set them on my purse.

“Spread your legs as wide as you can darling,” Sadie instructed, “like at the gyno.”

I did so. All the while, she chatted me up. I was sure that was intentional to keep me mentally distracted and occupied. She then told me she was going to wipe the hood area and around it to sanitize the area.

“It will be cold, honey. Be ready,” Sadie warned.

It was cold, and I quivered. I also glanced over at Lewis, and he smiled at me. He was sitting very quietly, letting the professionals do their work. One thing I loved about Lewis was that he treated all people with the same level of respect, whether it was a taxi driver, a retail clerk, or a CEO.

Next, Sadie reached for the counter and grabbed a thin plastic tube about the size of the cigarette.  This would serve the purpose of thinning my hood skin. As was proper procedure, I had to verify she had the correct barbell. The clinical aspect of the whole thing added to the intensity of the moment.

Sadie continued: “I’m sure you’re aware there’s some pain involved, no matter how high your pain tolerance may be. I will be using my forearms to hold your thigh down. This piercing is a knee knocker honey, and everyone’s reaction is to close their legs. It’s a central nervous response. But not to worry, it will be quick.”

When she looked up at me, I acknowledged that I understood, “That sounds fine, you’re the expert.”

She used her fingers to get everything lined up while she positioned herself at the very center of my legs, now spread very far apart. Her elbows more than her forearms pinned my thighs down and apart.

I looked up at the ceiling, and took a deep breath…

“AHH…FUCK.”  I couldn’t help myself, unlady-like or not. She’d been right about my thighs, they’d have slammed shut had it not been for her pivoted arms. I’d been cunt-punched by a 16 gauge needle.  I had to hold still while she got the jewelry.  The barbell replaced the needle, and then the top ball needed tightening, but the worst was behind me.

I got dressed, all the while feeling a low throb on my clit. I was then instructed on aftercare, distilled water with teaspoons of iodized salt, and all that.  They even suggested to Lewis he abstain from intercourse with me for at least one week, ideally two.

“No worries,” he replied, “we’ll make due.”  Then he looked at me and winked. My mouth and ass would surely pick up the slack.

With Sadie having completed her work, Melissa came back into the room and began to remove her own jeans. She was beautiful, with a few scattered tattoos and piercings of her own. Was she about to get another piercing now?  Lewis kissed me on the cheek. 

“I’ll wait for you out front,” he said.
Huh? Out front? Aren’t we leaving together?

Sadie also patted my back, wished me well, and left the room.  Melissa, meanwhile, was now fully nude and sitting in the same chair I had with her legs wide apart. Her pussy glistened in the light.

I looked at Lewis, slightly confused.

“What?” he said. “How did you expect to pay for your piercing?”

Three months later
…

The alarm clock sounded at the ungodly hour of 4:45 am. Lewis was flying to Chicago for business, and since this was the only time I’d see him all day, I dragged my ass out of bed to make coffee.  After his shower, he was in the bedroom putting on his suit while I powered up my
iPhone – two fresh coffees and some toast prepared for both of us. My phone was buzzing immediately. I was very surprised to see a voice message and text from Marjorie.
Marjorie?
Something must be wrong. Otherwise, there’s no way Marjorie would reach out to us in practically the middle of the night.

Lewis’ reaction and initial fear was the same as mine –
did a client get out of hand?

In the voice message, Marjorie sounded panicked. She immediately clarified it had nothing to do with the network or with one of the network’s clients, but that Xochi had been drugged and taken somewhere by bikers! Apparently, she was out partying with some of her girlfriends at an after-hours bar, and someone slipped something into her drink. Incoherent and rambling, barely conscious, Xochi was carried away from the bar by some bikers in the DemonEyez gang.  Marjorie feared the worst, as did we. This was everything the network stood against. It was non consensual, to say the least, and downright dangerous. What plans did this biker gang have for Xochi? The only gleam of hope was that the girl who relayed this information to Marjorie also provided an address. The DemonEyez clubhouse was at 308 Franklin Street. Franklin Street? That was less than ten minutes away from our suite, in a grungy side-neighborhood.

Lewis sprung into action decisively and without hesitation. He tore off his suit, and threw on a T-shirt. Meanwhile, I was still on the phone with Marjorie trying to get more information.

“Tell Marjorie to phone Steve,” came Lewis’ voice from our bedroom. Steve was one of the members who had interviewed me at the Four Seasons. “Then, see if you can reach Victor.”

Through the half-open doorway, I saw Lewis reach into the bottom drawer of his dresser and unlock some sort of wooden box. He slipped something behind his back.
What was that? Was that a gun?!?

Lewis flew past me while I was scanning my phone for Victor’s contact information, “Where are you going?” I desperately asked.

He gave me a fast kiss and replied simply, “We live the closest.”

I knew there was no point in suggesting I go with him. I also knew there was no point in suggesting we call the cops. Time was of the essence. Xochi’s best hope for a quick rescue resided with my husband.

I tried relentlessly to reach Victor, but to no avail. All I could do was wait. Wait and wonder.

For the first time in years, I felt true agony. This wasn’t a whipping with my pussy tingling in need. This wasn’t the eager anticipation and anxiety I feel on the threshold of meeting a new client. This
was uncertainty over the safety and condition of a friend, Xochi – and this was an ugly feeling. I paced back and forth frantically, tears welling up in my eyes. Of all the girls, Xochi was the one we knew the least, not that that mattered. I had only met her that one time at the Four Seasons, and I believe that it was the only time Lewis met her as well. To Lewis, the minute she became affiliated with the network, she deserved his full protection, even if it meant risking his life.

Minutes felt like hours as the time passed.

Forty-three long minutes later, I received a text from Lewis, ‘SHE’S SAFE. I’M WITH HER. HOME SOON.’

To say the news was a relief is an understatement. Fresh tears fell. They must have texted Marjorie as well, and word soon spread that Xochi was safe. There was no need to call off Victor as I had never reached him in the first place.

Not long after that, the door of our suite opened, and I was there to greet each of them with big long hugs. Lewis missed his flight to Chicago and made the necessary calls to his office to explain that a family emergency had arisen. Xochi looked tired but completely unmarked. She was still a big groggy from the drugs she’d been given and from a lack of sleep – but otherwise, she looked totally fine.

“They didn’t touch me. The bikers. They saw me doped up at the bar, so they took me away to get me out of there,” she said.

I couldn’t believe it. Here, all of us assumed this crazy biker gang had kidnapped Xochi, and all the while they were the good Samaritans in this story?  While Lewis took care of business on his cell – cancelling his Chicago meeting; Xochi explained the whole thing.

She’d gone out with a few girlfriends the night before for dinner and drinks. Late in the evening, they made their way to an after-hours club. Drinks were flying, including a few shots. One of the groups buying shots were some rowdy college boys, who she suspected as being the culprits. The bikers were sitting up at the bar minding their own business but intervened when they saw something suspicious. Xochi herself was passing out at this point and barely able to speak. Basically, they provided a couch for her to have a safe night of rest and keep her away from whoever had drugged her. Xochi’s friend, quite drunk herself, and with sketchy information, called Marjorie shortly thereafter.

Xochi continued the story, telling me - she barely remembered getting to their clubhouse, but once inside one of the biker chicks immediately took care of her. The clubhouse was quite large, but it was late so many of the gang members were asleep in their rooms. Xochi was guided to a sectional couch and provided a blanket and pillow. The biker chick stepped away but returned with a tall glass of ice water for her. For the next two hours, Xochi dozed on and off, not bothered by anyone.

That is until someone pounded on the door just before 6:00 am.  Some of the bikers roused to the ruckus, and to Xochi’s utter shock, it was Lewis.

“He practically barged his way into their house, with no fear whatsoever,” she said. “In fact,” she continued, “he was so authoritative, the bikers themselves stepped back!”

Xochi went on to say that there was an obvious relief in Lewis’ eyes, when he noticed Xochi was safe.

“They didn’t touch me,” she had said to Lewis to diffuse the tension or circumvent any violence before it got started.  By now, a half dozen of the bikers had congregated in the living room and were creating a semi-circle around Lewis.

“Are you sure?” Lewis questioned her.

“Positive, Sir. They weren’t the ones at the bar feeding us drinks. If anything, they got me out of there.”

Xochi told me that the most intense moment was when one of the gang leaders looked at Lewis and said, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Her boyfriend,” replied Lewis defiantly. He lied of course, but it explained his reason for coming to her rescue.

Thankfully, the stand-off was quickly diffused. The bikers admired Lewis’ loyalty and bravado. Upon hearing
the previous night’s events, Lewis realized these were actually the good guys.  When the two stumbled outside, the sun was only just beginning to rise. In the car they immediately texted us, knowing we’d be worried sick.

Xochi and I hugged again. “You do realize how lucky you are to have Lewis in your life, right?”

“I know,” I said.

We talked for a while longer and then Xochi took a nap, this time on our couch. Lewis was able to conduct most of his business by conference call that afternoon. His colleagues weren’t exactly thrilled that he missed the business trip, but everyone made due. I was so proud of him; I wanted to do everything in my power to make his day great.  Finally, when his phone calls were over, I got to ask my husband for his side of the story. We talked quietly, so as not to wake Xochi.

“Master, why did you go there, to a freakin’ biker house, without waiting for the others to get here?” I whispered.

“I needed to get there as fast as I could. In those situations, time is critical.”

“Weren’t you afraid?”

“In the moment, my concern for Xochi mattered most.”

“I’m so proud of you, Master.”

“I’m proud of
you
, Abby. Thanks for helping.”

It wasn’t lost on me that, if Lewis did this for Xochi, he’d surely do anything and everything in his power to protect me, no matter the risk.

“Didn’t you worry they’d beat the shit out of you? They are bikers!”

Lewis smiled. And I smiled. Then, I jumped up on him and kissed him again. 

Later in the afternoon, Marjorie came to visit just as Xochi was waking up from her nap. The four of us ordered Thai food, and Lewis opened up a bottle of wine.  Since Lewis and I were no longer in the network, the girls caught us up on the latest gossip and happenings. It was fun to catch-up.

At one point, Lewis returned to our bedroom to
check his smart phone for work messages. Marjorie, Xochi, and I started giggling and getting mischievous in the living room. As soon as we heard Lewis put his cell away, we entered the bedroom. All three of us had removed our clothing, and it was time to thank our hero. Lewis smiled and sat back on the bed.

What straight man could say no to this?

All three of us descended upon him.