Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Iris
Dinner with Master Law felt a little awkward at the beginning, but by the time the lights dimmed, they were deep in conversation about their love for Schitt’s Creek, and Iris had almost forgotten what they were actually there for. She was almost disappointed they had to stop talking.
During class, Master Law had always held himself apart from the students.
Not tonight. She made a joke—he laughed.
She told a story—he listened. And he had his own stories and jokes, too.
Iris cracked up when he told her about the time he accidentally clotheslined himself on a tree in his front yard when he was chasing after his sister, Joanne.
Turned out, he’d grown faster than the tree and tried to run under a branch that he’d run under the previous summer…
but the branch had no longer been above his head.
He and Joanne sounded a lot like her and Andrew, in some ways—protective big brother, wild younger sister—but she could hear the caring, even when he sounded exasperated.
It made her wonder if she tuned out the caring in Andrew’s voice.
When she talked to her brother, she mostly heard the exasperation.
Not that she was comparing Master Law to her brother.
She’d never had less brotherly feelings for anyone in her life.
Although their conversation was completely innocuous, and he didn’t make a single move on her while they were eating, there was a simmering tension bubbling just below the surface.
Iris could feel it every time their gazes caught and could see the heat in his eyes.
The way his gaze dropped to her lips and her breasts when he thought she wasn’t looking.
And the way her body reacted to all of it.
It was flirting without actually flirting. She was attuned to his every move. Which was why she saw the way his head jerked up, nostrils flaring slightly, as the lights changed. Anticipation thrummed through her immediately.
Their meals were long gone, and Mark quickly came by to scoop up their dessert plates, tipping them a wink as he did so.
Iris smiled at him, the expression hiding the sudden increase in her pulse.
Her heart felt as though it was beating twice as fast, and all the nerves that had previously settled surged upwards.
What was she supposed to do now? Did she move closer to him? Stay where she was? What did she do with her hands?
“Iris.” Master Law’s voice was low, almost husky. “Scoot a little closer to me.”
Oh, right.
Him, Dom. Her, sub.
She didn’t have to worry about what to do—he would tell her what he wanted her to do.
Not that it stopped her heart from pounding, but she was able to relax a smidge as she followed his instruction.
She scooted closer, and he lifted his arm, so she could move right next to him, the outside of their thighs pressed together.
The heat of his body seemed to flow into her, adding to the warmth already curling through her core.
“Relax,” he murmured as the room went entirely dark.
Easy for him to say. How was she supposed to relax when he was pressed up against her, his fingers stroking the top of her arm where his hand was resting?
It wasn’t sexual, exactly, but it was sensual, and the soft strokes sent little shivers through her.
The darkness created a cocoon, only for them… but it didn’t last long.
The lights came up on stage.
A large wooden frame had been added to the stage, with chains hanging from the top crossbeam and cuffs dangling at their ends. The very sight made Iris’ insides clench.
This was completely different from being at Marquis for a class. Far more intimate than she’d realized it would be.
Squirming in the seat next to Master Law, she didn’t dare look at him.
Not that she’d be able to see much in the shadows of the booth, but it felt achingly intimate for what was supposed to be a simple scene.
A pity scene. This felt more and more like a real date with a Dom who was actually interested in her.
Stop thinking. Just go with it.
Going with the flow wasn’t Iris’ natural state—she usually asked questions the whole way, trying to find out which way the flow was going and what would happen when it got there—but right now, she didn’t have much of a choice.
This was not the time to make conversation.
She’d missed her chance during dinner, but well, she’d been enjoying herself.
Movement caught her eye as Will and Gina stepped onto the stage.
Will, was wearing jeans, chaps, and a cowboy hat, looking right at home in them, showing off his shirtless physique—a very nice physique.
Gina was outfitted in full pony play gear.
Long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which flowed down her back, and she had a matching tail between her legs.
Iris’ cheeks clenched together as she realized it must be a plug tail because there was nothing else that might be keeping it wedged between Gina’s buttocks.
Thigh-high boots with odd platforms on the sole made to look like hooves, a leather harness made of straps around her body, and a gag that looked like a horse’s bit was wrapped around her head and holding her lips open completed the look.
Iris stared in fascination. She’d never seen anything like it in person, though she’d seen photos. Marquis had a pony playroom, but it hadn’t interested her. Now, she had to admit Gina looked surprisingly sexy as a kinky pony, and Cowboy Will was seriously hot.
When they reached the edge of the stage, Gina balked, and Will’s hand reached out and slapped her bottom, leaving a bright red print. Iris jumped at the sound of flesh cracking against flesh. As if that had been a cue, a low, throbbing beat began to fill the room, tickling the edges of her hearing.
“Naughty pony, up on the stage.” Will had even added a bit of a southern drawl to his voice. Damn. That was hot. Lucky Gina.
Lucky me.
Master Law’s hold on her tightened a little, and Iris’ breath hitched as Gina pranced away from Will. He grabbed the bridle of her bit, his other hand going to his belt where a small flogger was attached. It was made of black leather and blended so well with his pants, Iris hadn’t noticed it.
Law
Seated next to a squirming aroused Iris was pure erotic torture.
He couldn’t just hear the hitches in her breath—he could feel them.
He was attuned to her every movement, every tiny quiver, every little change in breathing.
His cock was achingly hard, more from her presence beside him than the erotic tableau in front of him.
Watching scenes was always enjoyable, but it was hardly anything new. Watching with someone, with her tucked under his arm and sides against each other?
That was very new.
Using the small flogger, Will managed to ‘drive’ Gina up on stage and get her into position, so he could cuff her wrists to the chains hanging from the frame.
She stamped her foot, smiling around the bit in her mouth as Will walked around her as though he was inspecting her.
Despite her show of reluctance, she was having a good time.
“Hold still, girl,” Will ordered, swishing the flogger again, catching the underside of her breast and making Gina jerk before she settled back into place. Seated at the side of the frame, he and Iris had a pretty good view of everything Will did.
Moving his hand, Law curved his fingers around Iris’ ribcage to tease the side of her breast, feeling her quick intake of breath. He turned his head, watching her profile as his hand moved over her breast, waiting to see if she showed any sign of hesitation.
She bit her lip as he caressed the soft mound of flesh, his fingers seeking the hard nub of her nipple beneath the fabric.
“Oh…” She started to turn her head, and Law pinched her nipple through the dress, which took away some of the sting but not all of it.
“Keep watching the show,” he murmured, shifting so he could pull her onto his lap. It was a bit of a tight squeeze to get her atop his thighs with the table in front of them, which forced her to open her legs and drape them on the outside of his. Perfect.
While the new position obscured most of his view of the show, since her curls got in the way, he didn’t mind at all.
He was far more focused on how she felt atop him than he was on watching the show.
It would be easier for him to maintain his self-control if he didn’t have to deal with extra distractions.
Having the curves of her ass pressed against his aching erection was distracting enough.
Law slid his hands up her stomach to her breasts, cupping them, and heard her soft moan. She squirmed again on his lap, and one of her hands reached up to cover his. That wouldn’t do.
“Put your hands on the table in front of you,” he murmured in her ear. The music for the scene was getting louder, but she would still be able to hear him easily enough. “Flat. Don’t move them.”
Another hitch in her breath, and this time, he was certain it was because of his command rather than the scene.
His cock throbbed against her backside as he tightened his grip on her breasts.
The soft handfuls filled his fingers, spilling out between them.
Deliberately arranging them so her nipples were caught between his middle and forefinger, when he squeezed, the tiny buds were pinched.
Her squirming increased, especially now that she could no longer press her thighs together to put pressure on her pussy.
Instead, she was squeezing her legs against his and wriggling more and more as her arousal heightened.
Fuck, he wanted to sink inside her. His arousal made him rougher with her breasts, which made her squirm even more.
It was like a self-perpetuating cycle of erotic torture.
Iris
Master Law was touching her breasts.
Not just touching them, but full-on kneading them, fingers pinching and rolling her nipples, squeezing to his heart’s content.
She could feel the throbbing press of his erection between the cheeks of her ass.
The empty ache in her pussy made it even more frustrating to feel him so close, yet not where she wanted him.
Her clit was screaming with the need to be touched, especially now that she couldn’t put any pressure on it by squeezing her legs together.
Whimpering, she squirmed against Master Law, hoping her movements would inspire him to move things a little faster. This wasn’t all that kinky; all he was doing was playing with her breasts.
Playing with your breasts while you have your hands flat on the table in front of you, and you’re watching a woman dressed as a horse being whipped. Sure, not kinky at all.
It was possible her idea of what was and wasn’t kinky needed to be readjusted.
Gina threw her head back as Master Will flicked the whip up between her spread legs, hitting her inner thighs, dangerously close to her pussy.
He followed it up with the small flogger in his left hand, and the many leather strands did hit squarely against her labia.
She cried out, and Iris felt like crying out with her, her own pussy throbbing in sympathy and envy.
She might not be as much of a masochist as Gina, but she still liked that bite of pain. Craved it. It made the pleasure sharper, hotter.
As if sensing her need, Law shifted his grip on her breasts, pinching her nipples between the pads of his fingers, pulling and twisting, before releasing them and leaving her panting. The twin spots of pain throbbed, sending electric sparks through her body, straight to her pussy.
“Please, please, please, please…” She realized she was whispering the word over and over again while she squirmed against him.
Feeling his hand moving down her body to her thigh and between her legs, she thought she might combust on the spot.
Onstage, Master Will was still whipping Gina’s thighs, with the occasional stroke for her pussy, circling around her like a predator ready to pounce.
Master Law’s fingers encountered the tiny scrap of fabric that was Iris’ thong.
She felt his chuckle.
His fingers moved past it, pressing right against her clit… and stopped.
“Get yourself off, Iris.”
Iris blinked. Did he mean?
She shifted experimentally, rolling her hips forward, rubbing against his fingers. Fuck, it felt so good. She moaned.
“That’s it. Good girl.”
Despite the many times she’d now earned the accolade from him, none had felt as good as this one.
Iris rolled her hips forward again. Master Law’s fingers stayed on her clit, but he didn’t move them with her body.
He made her work for it. His other hand moved up to fondle her breast again, squeezing the soft flesh, then yanked the top of her dress down, so she could finally feel his calloused palm against her skin.
She writhed on his lap, moving her hips, rubbing against his fingers. He was motionless beneath her, making her do all the work to get herself off using him… for some reason, that turned her on even more.
Rubbing, rubbing, rubbing as she watched Will lift Gina’s legs, draping them over his arms and lining his cock up with her abused pussy.
Gina’s scream of passion as he thrust into her made Iris move even more frantically.
She whimpered, trying to rub herself harder against Law’s fingers, trying to get a reaction from him.
Pinching her nipple, he tugged and twisted, and the sharp bite of pain sent Iris reeling.
She reached down between her legs, putting her hand over his and pressing him farther into her pussy, giving her exactly what she needed.
The pressure was perfect. Iris cried out as her orgasm finally peaked, but her voice was drowned out by the music and Gina’s enraptured cries.
Writhing against Law’s hand, she shuddered and gasped as the sensations rolled through her. The waves of pleasure pushed her about until she finally slumped, panting, her hand still over his.
Onstage, the music crescendoed as Will thrust into Gina hard one last time, the two of them crying out in unison as he shuddered between her thighs. The lights slowly began to dim.
Iris felt Master Law shift beneath her. His cock was still pressing into her backside, thick and insistent, and despite her orgasm, she felt an ache of emptiness in her pussy.
Then she felt his lips brush against her shoulder.
“Naughty girl. You were supposed to keep your hands on the table.”
The erotic menace in his voice slid through her, and Iris shivered, snatching her hand away and putting it back in place on the table, knowing it was already too late.