Page 48 of Monarch
Nothing turns me on more than knowing I turn others on by submitting, by being who I am, by presenting myself as I am to them.
I often wonder where I’d be without QISS. If Joel hadn’t brought me to this place as an anxious and apprehensive youngwoman. Would I still harbour all the fear, all the dysphoria, all those feelings of being out-of-place, of being unwanted, of being not enough – not sexy enough, not good enough, not woman enough?
It’s a question that remains unanswered for certain, but as I gasp my way through several more strikes of Mother Maria’s crop, I say thank you over and over again that I do have QISS.
I didn’t tell Mari that this is my first time returning to QISS since Lex. That we’d become something of a recognised couple here, even if we did almost always come specifically to play with others. That was why Joel had given me such a big hug in the lobby. He knew it was a big deal for me to return without Lex on my arm. I suspect it’s also why Mother Maria immediately invited me up onto the stage.
So often I’ve played up here, but with Lex watching at a table because that’s what gets xem off as much as it does me,didme, and every single time, it added to my arousal. Imagining what xe would do to me afterwards, or occasionally while I was still tied up on stage, that was half the fun.
Tonight, I feel some small measure of guilt that I have substituted Lex with Mari – deepened by their own shared history that haunts me more than I’ve admitted even to myself – not because it happened organically but because I planned it deliberately. I want to know if thinking about Mari watching me turns me on as much as it did when it was Lex. I want to know if this connection with Mari feels as strong as I think it does, if it hints at being as real as my bond with Lex became. I want to know if Mari really is okay with me doing this, being this way.
Because this absolutely is who I am. No, more important than that. It’s who I want to be, and after a lifetime being told I’m not who I am, I need this. I can’t live without it.
“Still with me?” Mother Maria asks in her sultry voice. I open my eyes to catch her gaze.
“Yes, Mother.”
“Good girl.” She winks at me, a playful expression she would never offer the crowd when she stands tall in front of them. “Let’s see if anybody else wants to play.”
Goosebumps erupt all over my body as more of my blood spreads around the rest of my body, not just the back of my legs and butt and between my legs. I love the anticipation before a stranger comes and dominates me as much as I do the reality. The not knowing. The possibility. The potential for more pain and more pleasure.
“Ladies, theys, and gays!” Mother Maria taps her cane on the floor to get everyone’s attention. She’s moved to stand directly behind me, at the front of the stage, so I can’t see her, but I don’t think for a single second people aren’t listening and watching carefully. There’s barely a noise in the room; the only sound I’m aware of is my shallow breath and my heartbeat thumping in my ears. “Roos would like to see what you have to offer her. Who would like to come and play with our sweet girl? She is still very much in need of some attention.”
The silence seems to stretch and deepen. Panic rises inside my throat at the possibility that nobody will come forward. That nobody wants to play with me. But I squash it immediately; I’ve done this too many times before to know that somebody will step forward.
Maybe Mari.
I banish that thought just as quickly. They made me no promises. This is their first time at QISS, in any kind of place like this. Even sitting and watching me is probably pushing them far out of their comfort zone. I shouldn’t be greedy.
But I am greedy. I want Mari.
Or maybe I really want Lex. Maybe I really wish Lex was here. And I’m projecting that desire on Mari.
Oh, fuck.
I tell myself it’s endorphins making my head spin and shaping these unwanted ideas.
As soon as someone has a paddle in their hand, or a rope wrapped elegantly around my body, I will be free of such fantasies and confusions.
“Anybody?” Mother Maria demands, and it very much is a demand.
There is some mumbling in the audience that I don’t catch. Mother Maria’s cane stamps across the stage as she gets closer to the voices.
“You want to play together with Roos?” she asks. The aches in my wrists and arms from being in this position for what must be approaching an hour suddenly dull.
My ears prick up, and my heartrate speeds. “Very well. Let me ask our pretty little plaything.”
She approaches me again. “We have a couple – both femmes – who want to play with you together. The Dominant wants to put their submissive to use with you.”
“Yes,” I gasp, that potential making more blood thicken my genitals. “Yes, Mother. Please.”
“They’ve requested you stay in this position,” she explains. “That okay with you?”
“Yes. Thank you, Mother.”
And so the couple comes to the stage. I don’t see either of their faces, and for some reason, that turns me on even more. The Dominant stands to the side, and I only hear their voice. They talk to their submissive in a sly way that edges more on degradation than praise, and I feel my nipples tighten when I hear what they want her to do.
“Eat her out, my dirty little whore. Kiss her welts better and eat her ass until I tell you to stop.”
