A Gentle Christmas

Ridge heard the loud crack of the whip. The sound pierced through the electric guitar solo in the rock version of “Jingle Bells” that was blaring through the overhead speakers. Sitting on a bar stool in the middle of the club he allowed his gaze to travel the room, a big square. Swinging around in his seat, he finally located the Dom with the whip standing behind one of the five roped off daises in the dungeon. The man was on the raised platform with his sub cuffed spread eagle to hooks in the ceiling and floor.
The whip was one of Ridge’s favorite toys to use and he enjoyed watching it being wielded by an expert. This Dom was an expert. A whip in the right hands became an extension of the person exerting it. Eyeing the man’s form, Ridge noted that the Dom used a style that would cause the whip to strike or bite deeply. The person who designed the dungeon did so with skill and knowledge of the lifestyle, because all of the scene areas were set-up in a way that allowed a side profile of Dom and sub to the viewers. For the whipping station it gave ample distance to allow the swing of the whip without fear of striking someone or something. From Ridge’s position he could see both frontal views of the sub and Dom.
When the sound of the whip splintered the air again, Ridge became drawn to the face of the sub. A woman with dark brown straight hair falling forward and covering both her bare breasts. Under the overhead light her skin appeared flawless and pale, practically colorless. She didn’t look to be a great beauty, nothing striking or bold about her features. If someone asked him to describe her he may have used the word plain, for lack of a better word.
However, what struck him about her was the fact she stood so relaxed. She appeared almost separated from the act being performed on her as well as the audience observing her. She did exhibit a flinch or moan as the Dom continued striking the upper part of her back, ass and thighs, but something was missing. His gaze continued to travel her form, looking for other clues and signs. Her stance allowed a clear view of her sex, hairless, like most of the woman in the lifestyle. Normally, subs that were in a scene became sexually aroused, some to the point of climax, where others may not, but usually either the object used on them or being on display in general was erotic to them. Not so for this woman. The lights allowed him to bear witness that her labia were neither swollen nor glistening with her own cream. Outwardly, it appeared as if she were getting no pleasure from the submission or the play at all. Why not?
“That’s Delilah, one of Strong Blend’s resident pain-sluts,” Mike Raymond told him, finishing up locking his subs hands behind her back and slipping onto the barstool beside Ridge. Moments ago, Mike had made his sub slip-on a vibrating black pearl thong below her short red mini that matched the green holiday sweater she was wearing. The festive Rudolph with its’ light-up nose was a little out of place in the BDSM club, but it attracted people to her, which only aided Mike’s play for her. On the bar Mike placed a wireless remote to her panties before a sign that read ‘Press Me, Sir’ in plain sight for other Doms to access. Evidentially, Butterfly was in for quite a night.
Mike was a friend of his from college and so was his roommate and co-Dom, Josh Clemson. The three of them hadn’t attended the same college, but had met doing intern jobs in the summer of their junior years. They’d all hit it off, stayed in contact and had been friends every since. Years after school Josh and Mike had come to visit him and he’d let the two of them in on his lifestyle and they’d both taken to it like ducks to water. Last years, blizzards in New York had convinced Ridge it was time for a new environment. For six months he’d worked on getting a transfer to Charlotte and it finally came through and a month later he was in his new house and office.
With all of the hustle of moving, he hadn’t had a chance to join the club where Josh and Mike were both Dungeon Masters or engage in the lifestyle they all enjoyed, until tonight. Tonight was Strong Blends holiday play-party, so Doms and Domme had their subs and slaves dressed in various Christmas accoutrements.
“Hmm, you don’t say.” Leaning his back against the bar, Ridge glanced at his friend briefly then back at the woman. Something about the words his friend used to represent her and what Ridge was seeing in her posture were not in sync. Glancing at the Dom he took note of the other impact play instruments on the table, as well as the sweat pouring off the man Ridge could tell he’d been working at her a while in various forms. Shifting his gaze back to the woman, he clearly realized what appeared out of sorts.
Her body reacted in the expected manner, arching and curving as her hands fisted and released and she rose on her toes. These were revealing signs every Dom was trained to look for in a sub.
Mike referred to this woman, Delilah, as a pain-slut, however, her face told a different story from her body. Something the Dom behind her could not see. Instead of the corners of her mouth being tilted up in peace and joy, signifying her ascension into subspace, the opposite was happening. Staring more intently, Ridge could make out the droop at the sides of her lips, the arch at the start of both her eyebrows and her eyes looked towards the back wall away from people and her chin was tilted in the same direction--shame or guilt. Delilah didn’t appear to be a novice in the lifestyle. So where was her pleasure at the act of submission? If she didn’t want to be there she could have expressed that fact to the Dom.
Why don’t you use your safeword?
“He’ll tire before she will,” Mike’s words interrupted Ridge’s thoughts.
“Is he her Dom?”
“Hell, no. Delilah is an unattached submissive. She comes in every Friday night and allows a different Dom to scene with her. She’s smart enough not to submit to any newbies though.”
“Their ignorance would injure her.” Ridge didn’t know her, but he would hate to see an inexperienced Dom ruin such flawless flesh. The woman had the perfect body for a sub. She had a slender waist and legs with thick thighs, nice round, high ass and excellent muscle tone. From what he could see of her breasts they were small, normally he preferred his women more endowed, but that didn’t detract from her appeal. Not at all.