Santa Wore Spurs Read online

  More laughter. Sounds of people shifting in their chairs. A whisper of conversation.

  "I think that’s enough of an introduction. Now it’s time for Sara and Drake."

  He stepped off of the platform and moved back to a corner of the room. A door to the right opened and the couple Bree had met earlier strode confidently out to the center of the room. Drake, a medium height compact man with dark auburn hair and a body that spoke of hours of hard work, wore tight leather pants and nothing else. Sara, a small, ethereal looking blonde with tip tilted breasts and a waxed mons, walked behind him, head lowered. Yet even in that submissive mode, she exuded the aura of a Domme.

  Bree felt certain tonight tested all her natural instincts. She must love Drake a lot and their relationship had to be solid for her to be willing to give over the reins like this.

  Despite her disquieting reaction to Rafe, Bree doubted she’d ever be able to do this. If a sub could betray her the way Chad had, what would happen if she gave over control to someone? The possibility for emotional damage was a wall of fire she didn’t think she could walk through.

  Images began to flash on the smooth walls and Bree realized there must be cameras set up to catch all the activity. Obviously Emilio wanted to make sure the audience didn’t miss a single thing in the performance. He’d covered every angle of the platform and splashed it on the walls in sharp color.

  Bree shifted slightly in her chair. None of the performances she’d ever witnessed had used cameras. There were always angles not visible to the audience. Often they had to imagine things they wanted to see with their own eyes. Apparently Emilio had taken that into consideration when he built this wing of the house.

  Sara followed Drake onto the platform and walked immediately to the stock and pillory setup, facing the audience. Without being told she settled her wrists into the indentations carved for them and stepped into the spaces for her ankles. Drake crouched down to lock her ankles into place then rose to do the same with her wrists. Now, positioned with her legs spread wide and her arms raised and bent, the angle the tiny Domme had been presented in, looked anything but easy to take. Still, she’d used the same apparatus on her subs before, and they seemed to revel in the discomfort it caused.

  Standing to the side enough to give the audience a view of his creation, Drake pulled and tugged on the tips of Sara’s breasts, pinching them hard enough to draw a low moan of pain from her. Then he bent his head and took them in his mouth, one at a time, drawing his lips back so at least part of the audience could see her as he bit the sensitive buds. One hand lifted to cup Sara’s chin, holding her mouth closed and signaling her to remain silent.

  Bemused at the woman’s reaction, Bree pondered her ability to give herself over to his commands, when she normally held that position. What kind of internal struggle had taken place to get her there? Or did the strength of her relationship allow her to do it? Again, Bree searched within herself, trying to find any relationships she’d had, even with Chad, where she would have been willing to do that.

  As if sensing her mind had wandered, Rafe squeezed her shoulder and whispered in her ear. "Don’t miss any of the action here."

  "I’m not." She focused on the platform.

  From a table at the side that contained a number of items Drake selected a box that he opened. Walking around the platform he displayed its contents to the crowd, a pair of nipple rings studded with some kind of stones. Taking the first one, he pulled hard on one of Sara’s taut buds before threading a thin bar through spots that had obviously been pierced. Biting the tips again, he repeated the performance with the other one. Bree wondered if she wore them regularly and whose idea had it been to do the piercing—hers or Drake’s.

  Embellishment in place, he selected another box from the stage, removed whatever it contained and knelt in front of her again. Carefully he spread the lips of her cunt and licked the length of her slit. She shuddered in reaction to his touch but stayed silent, although she’d closed her eyes. Bree knew the woman prepared herself to fall into subspace, that state of mind where nothing existed except sensation and pain, the ultimate sexual stimulation and reaction. A place where a sub felt comfortable giving absolute control to a Dom or Domme.

  Drake lapped her pussy again and tugged her clit with his teeth. Then, obviously satisfied he’d prepared her, he attached a thin gold ring to the nub of flesh. Finally he rose and stood back so everyone could admire her decorations. He walked around her slowly, everyone’s eyes following him as the cameras caught the activity. Without any warning he lifted a hand and brought it down on one cheek of her ass. The slap resounded in the room. He followed it with a second, a third and a fourth.

  Bree caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She couldn’t believe how much it aroused her to see Sara facing front, completely restrained and exposed, and at the same time, be able to witness Drake administering a spanking. The audience leaned forward as one and murmured admiringly at the red marks on Sara’s ass.

  Drake reached between her thighs, ran his fingers along her cunt and lifted them to show the skin glistening with her juices. Then, very carefully, he licked each finger clean one at a time.

  Bree’s breath caught in her throat. If Sara, a dedicated Domme, could be that turned on by a little amount of restraint and punishment, how would she respond as the scene progressed? Without realizing it, Bree began to imagine herself in Sara’s place, wondering how she would react, anxious to see what came next.

  She didn’t have long to wait. Drake lifted a tube of gel from the table, squeezed out a liberal amount on one finger. The bright spotlights ensured everyone had a clear view of everything. With his other hand, he separated the cheeks of her ass.

  Emilio—or someone—must have been monitoring the cameras, because suddenly the lenses moved in for a close-up. A close-up displayed the crevice of Sara’s buttocks in great detail, even to the tiny winking opening of her anus. Drake slowly massaged the lube into her external tissues before sliding his finger into her opening to the furthest knuckle. He moved it in and out in a steady rhythm to make sure her inner tissues were properly coated and relaxed.

  After using a wet wipe on his finger he selected a butt plug from the table. He held it up and drew a sweeping arc with it so everyone could see he’d chosen one of the largest ones. Then again holding open her buttocks, he slid it a little at a time into her rear opening. Bree glanced quickly around, noticing everyone leaning slightly forward, eyes glued to Sara, watching her visibly draw in her breath as the large toy glided into her body. Bree’s own muscles clenched as if the plug had actually found its way into her body. Liquid seeped into the crotch of her bikini panties, and testified that her jeans had been a good choice of wardrobe for the day. They’d serve as a protective barrier to the reaction of her body.

  Next to her she sensed Rafe’s body tense and his arm, which he’d draped over her shoulder at some point, tightened slightly. His fingers rubbed her shoulder in an even circular motion. She knew she should shrug off his touch, but somehow she felt so connected to him, she had no desire to.

  Her mind drifted at the heat of his touch, but the crack of a whip brought her sharply back into the present. She shifted her gaze back to the platform where Drake strode around Sara, gripping a single tail whip that cracked with the rhythmic motions of his arm.

  Bree had seen many single tail whip demonstrations before. She’d even trained in the use of it and knew exactly how precise every motion had to be, every flick of the wrist, every angle of the arm. Drake’s movements displayed confidence and dexterity, so she had to ask herself, had these two reversed roles before, or had Sara taught him specifically for tonight?

  He drew a breath, lifted his arm to the proper angle and the crack! sounded as the thin leather tail zinged through the air and landed on Sara’s ass. She jerked as it made contact and left a bright red stripe across one cheek. Drake didn’t pause for more than a moment before applying the whip again, and several more times, the strokes me
asured in space and effect. Each time Sara jerked as much as the wooden restraints allowed and her soft moans drifted on the air in the room.

  Bree drew in deeper breathes and clenched her fists in her lap. She could almost feel the lash on her own buttocks.

  Rafe’s arm eased from her shoulder and his hand moved to cover hers, rubbing her tightened fingers in a slow, seductive motion. As she forced herself to relax them, her attention still glued to the platform, he urged her fingers apart and slid his fingers between her thighs, proving the jeans weren’t as much of a barrier as she thought. He rubbed the area covering her cunt lightly then lifted his fingers to his nostrils.

  Oh my god!

  Bree had often reacted to performance scenes. After all, that was the point in watching them, right? But always with a sub, either current or one she courted. Watching by herself had proven to be an abstract activity and provided no stimulation.

  Until today.

  Apparently satisfied that he’d administered sufficient punishment and stimulation with the whip, Drake tossed it to the side, selecting another item from the table. As he had with the butt plug, he held it up so both the cameras and the audience could get a good view of it. Bree had used the large butterfly shaped vibrator before, sometimes on herself alone and sometimes with a sub. When she demanded maximum pleasure, she would order him to use it on her, stimulating her to the point of orgasm then tossing it to the side and sliding his cock into her to finish the job.

  Would Drake do that with Sara?

  She slid back and forth in her seat, hardly aware of her actions, until Rafe’s fingers pressed harder into the crotch of her jeans. If she’d been in her right mind she’d have grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm away. But the sensory stimulation held captive to its effect. So, instead she squeezed her thighs together, capturing his fingers and riding them. Later she’d be embarrassed but now, she only sought elusive relief.

  Drake sat on the floor between Sara’s outspread legs, clamped the butterfly over her pussy and pressed the button that turned it on. At once Sara’s body began to shake. They could all see the automatic effect as she strained to clamp her legs together but the stocks held them wide apart. Drake played with the toy, holding it against her for a few moments then pulling it away. Each time he replaced it she threw her head back and tried to urge her hips forward. One of the cameras captured her face and the glazed look in her eyes, the signal that she gone into deep subspace.

  Little sounds rolled from her mouth again as she tried desperately to ride the vibrator, but Drake was very good about teasing her with it.

  "Do not come except at my command," he ordered in a strong voice. "Do you understand me, sub?"

  He pinched her clit hard to evoke an answer from her and she nodded her head.

  "I think perhaps we should let someone else have the pleasure of bringing you to orgasm with this. Shall I select someone from the audience?"

  Breathing heavily, straining against the restraints, Sara bobbed her head in acknowledgement.

  "Excellent. Proper response." He stood and turned to face everyone, moving in a circle so he didn’t miss anybody.

  Bree wondered if he’d call for a volunteer or if Drake and Sara had chosen someone ahead of time. A tall rough-boned man with streaky blond hair stood up and walked toward the stage, answering her question.

  "I believe that honor is mine tonight." His voice was loud and confident.

  Drake handed him the butterfly and he knelt between Sara’s legs. As soon as he placed the toy over her pussy and turned it on, Drake walked around behind her and leaned in to whisper in her ear. Bree knew he gave her commands. Signals. Special words that could penetrate the fog she drifted in. Then he began to deliver a series of rhythmic spanks. One of the cameras closed in on Sara’s face again and her expression made it obvious she’d gone so deep into subspace that everything else ceased to exist for her.

  Between the spankings and the vibrator it took only a few moments before Bree could see she rode the edge of an orgasm.

  "Now," Drake said in her ear, loud enough to register. "Come right now." The orgasm hit. Her entire body was gripped with violent shudders that ripped through her. She convulsed over and over, fighting the restraints that held her in place, her breasts heaving with the force of her breathing.

  Bree moved faster and harder against Rafe’s fingers, desperate to find the release that had built inside her. As the final shockwaves of climax rolled through Sara’s body, Bree found her own satisfaction. Her body shook and trembled as the walls of her pussy convulsed.

  The man holding the butterfly vibrator rose and passed it to Drake.

  "Say thank you," he ordered Sara.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  "Thank you for what?"

  "Th-Thank you for giving me an orgasm."

  "Good. Very good." He tucked her hair behind her ear, nipped her lobe and pressed his lips close to her ear. Now ask him to lick you clean."

  She jerked slightly, and Bree wondered if they’d planned it or if Drake had gone off script. If he had, it meant he wanted her to return the punishment when they were alone.

  Sara licked her lips and croaked, "Please lick me clean."

  "Sir," Drake prompted.

  "Sir," she added.

  The expression on the volunteer’s face showed his obvious pleasure at the task, the man knelt again, spread the lips of Sara’s cunt and began to lap eagerly. As she watched, another set of spasms rocked Bree. Rafe pressed his fingers firmly against her crotch and she pushed down on them as hard as she could. The performance on stage finished at almost the same time the last tremors left her body.

  Rafe slid his hand free, leaned closer and held his fingers under his nose.

  "Perfume," he breathed, then wrapped his arm around her again to steady her.

  Bree didn’t know what to say to him. To anyone. She glanced to either side of her to see if anyone had noticed, but apparently they were all too busy with their own involvement. On her left, a man had moved his date, or companion, or whatever, onto his lap, lifted her skirt and had his fingers deep inside her panties. Her eyes were as glazed at Sara’s. On the other side of Rafe, the female half of the duo knelt on the floor, watching the platform even as she held the man’s freed penis in her grip and licked it enthusiastically. Bree didn’t need too many guesses when she took note of his shaft’s limp state, to know he’d been well and thoroughly sucked.

  Well, it isn’t as if you’ve never seen it before. The same thing happens at home.

  Yes, it did. How many times had she watched a scene with Chad, or an earlier sub, and been pleasured while the performance took place. Lucky for her everyone focused on their own hot needs and didn’t notice the newcomer had come apart sitting there. Or that she’d allowed Rafe Morales to be the instrument of her pleasure.

  She sat back in the chair, acutely aware that his arm still rested casually across her shoulders. What was going on with her? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d achieved an orgasm that she hadn’t commanded or taken care of herself. The nasty breakup with Chad must have rattled more than her brains.

  "Show’s over," Rafe whispered in her ear.

  She jerked, startled. When she looked at the platform, sure enough, Drake had released Sara from the constraints. Supporting her with one arm he helped her take a bow with him. Then, muscles in his arms flexing, he lifted her and carried her off the platform and through the door from which they’d come.

  People began to rise from their seats, rearranging clothing, fixing disheveled hair. She saw two couples talking to Emilio, watched him nod, reach into a pocket and pull out two keys. In another moment the couples had disappeared through the doorway in the wall and more people were speaking to Emilio.

  "Private rooms," Rafe told her, seeing where her gaze had traveled. "He has four of them, outfitted with everything you could want, no matter what your preference. He’s careful about passing them out, not wanting to show any favoritism."
r />   "So I’m guessing they don’t have their own playrooms at home?"

  He shrugged. "Some do, some don’t. Some have merely the bare necessities. But even for those with special rooms, none of them compare to what Emilio has here." He grinned at her. "Like to take a look sometime?"

  "Oh." The suggestion startled her. "I won’t be around here long enough for that. I’m taking a couple of extra days after some client meetings and then I’m leaving. Besides, I don’t have a partner here or…." Her voice trailed off at the piercing look he gave her.

  "I could take care of that very easily, you know."

  Time to pull herself together. Or try to. "Look, Rafe. Tonight was a very pleasant…interlude. If I said I didn’t enjoy it, I’d be lying. But I only came today to relax with people I could be comfortable with. My life is very complicated at the moment. I only decided to stay over the weekend on the spur of the moment and I’m leaving Monday. "

  "Monday?" He pulled a cell phone from his shirt pocket and thumbed open the calendar. "By my calculations that gives me two full days to see if I can change your mind."

  Bree sighed. She should just walk out, but her body didn’t seem to want to leave this sexually enticing man.

  "There’s one other thing you should be aware of, all other evidence to the contrary. I’m a Domme. All the way. And you don’t seem like a man who’d be happy playing a submissive role."

  He cupped her chin and tilted her face up to his. "I think that’s something you never know until you try it. Look at Sara and Drake tonight." He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip, sending involuntary shivers down her spine. "It certainly worked well for them. Might even enrich their relationship."

  "But we don’t have a relationship," she pointed out. "Nor are we likely to."

  "Never say never, Bree Donovan." His voice dropped low and husky, pulsating in all the places that so very recently had responded to the scene. "You think you can drive back to Austin okay?"