Free Submission by Ella Ardent

the sensation of
pleasure, bound and possessed.
    And she was loving it.
    Rafael bit her clitoris, sliding
his teeth against it with gentle power, in the same moment that the Master
pinched her nipple. Joanna exploded with a shout, her orgasm so powerful that
she was left shaking and panting. She felt Rafael move away. Joanna was glad to
be bound, glad she didn’t have to stand up or say anything coherent. She shook
in the wake of her release.
    She wondered what the Master would
do to her next.
    She couldn’t wait to find out.
    “Bad Joanna,” the Master chided,
his voice dangerous and silky. “I didn’t give you permission to come.”
    He unfastened her seatbelt, dumped
her over his knee and spanked her hard. His other hand bracketed her waist,
holding her firmly against his powerful thighs. Joanna squirmed with outrage,
crying out at the smack of leather against her bare buttocks. It didn’t hurt
but it was humiliating, not the attention she wanted from him. She wasn’t a
little girl. She was a woman and she wanted him to take her like one.
    But no.
    “She will be silent, by choice or
not,” the Master said.
    It must have been Rafael who
jammed a roll of cloth into her mouth. Joanna struggled to spit it out, but
failed. She screamed but made only a faint sound.
    Rafael growled in appreciation.
    The Master spanked her again and
again and again, her butt heating with the impact of the leather. Rafael
hovered in close proximity. Joanna’s tears flowed and she struggled against the
Master’s hold, even knowing it was futile.
    She was silenced.
    Claimed.
    His.
    He stopped when he was satisfied
and not one moment before.
    He rolled her easily back to her
seat, flung her down and locked her in with the seatbelt again. Her buttocks
stung with the impact against the seat but she didn’t dare complain. Tears were
running down her face, tears of humiliation, slipping from beneath the
blindfold and domino. Her chest was heaving in agitation and embarrassment.
    She realized then that the
Countess had returned, because she smelled the woman’s perfume.
    “Had your fun?” the Countess
asked, laughter lurking under her words. Joanna heard the rustle of taffeta,
felt those skirts brush her knees as the Countess moved to sit beside her.
    And the Master moved away.
    “Take her back where she came
from,” the Master said, his voice hard. “We don’t need her kind at the Plume.”
He leaned closer to whisper in Joanna’s ear. “Displease me and the world will
see my pictures of you.” He snapped another, because she heard the click of the
shutter and saw the glow of the flash.
    Then she knew he was gone.
    Rafael plucked out the gag, then
the door to the car slammed. Joanna started to protest, but the Countess leaned
closer. “Shut up, bitch,” she whispered. “This is all the story you’ll get from
us.”
    Rafael slammed the driver’s door
and started the engine, and the car pulled away with enough speed that Joanna
was tipped off balance.
    She was back in her apartment, in
her raincoat, with her keys in her hand and the domino mask in her pocket, in
record time. The return trip had been the exact inverse of the outgoing trip,
although the silence had been charged.
    Rafael – was that even his
name? – had grinned at her when he ushered her out the door, then ran his
tongue over his front teeth.
    Joanna stood like a statue in her
apartment, keys still in her hand, dissatisfied. Her butt was burning. Her
nipples were aching. Her skin was tingling and her sex was itching. There were
tears on her cheeks and a new crevasse cracked wide inside of her.
    She hadn’t been in control.
    And she had reveled in it.
    What had happened to her?
    Joanna wished she could have seen
the Master. She wished she wasn’t being banished from his sphere. She yearned
for what he might have given her and made her feel.
    The truly incredible thing was
that she knew no more about the Plume than she’d known two hours before –
and she