The Evening’s Entertainment

Toby checked his phone, not so much for time, but for any messages. Nothing yet, but there was still time.

He returned the phone carefully to the inside pocket of his jacket, and looked around. He knew he was a little early, but it gave him some time to himself; time to chill for a few moments before the evening ahead.

His colleague Tom had invited to an event at a club he attended. He was vague on detail, having only heard about what went on. But he was keen that Toby attend, not just because of the event, but because he thought he may give Toby an opportunity to meet someone new. He teased him that if he was alone for much longer, he could no longer claim to be a Dominant, so he should find a submissive soon. Toby would just shake his head and smile in response.

Toby spotted Tom walking over, stood, and fastened his jacket. Toby was slightly struck by the woman he was with; leather from the shoes up to the corset, and severe black make-up.

Tom laughed as he approached.

“Do you ever not wear a jacket?”

Toby didn’t always wear his jacket, but tonight wore it for a reason.

Tom’s laughter subsided a little when he saw the glare from his Domme.

“Mistress Ella, this is my friend Toby.”

Ella carefully regarded Toby, before slowly offering her hand. Toby got the impression she expected him to get down on his knees and kiss her hand, so he quickly grasped it, shook it before slapping his other hand on top.

“Nice to meet you at last,” he said loudly, grinning.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he added, winking, a gleam in his eye.

Tom had hardly mentioned her, and was always reluctant to talk about her, no doubt because that’s the way she wanted it. But Toby had intended to unnerve her a little, and judging by the sideways glance she gave to Tom, he had succeeded.

“So, where’s this club of yours?” he said, changing the course of the conversation quickly.

“Oh, it’s just down here,” said Tom, a little nervously under the glare of Ella.

The three of them began walking in the direction Tom had indicated.

“So, did you manage to finish your piece of work today?” Toby asked. He thought it more diplomatic to steer away from relationship details such as ‘How long have you two been…’ etc.

Tom began to explain the issues he was having, and how he was being delayed by a colleague, when Toby’s phone bleeped.

Toby waved his hand apologetically as he reached for his phone and read the message. As he took in the contents of the message, a grin widened on his face.

“Some good news?” Tom asked.

“Oh, just something for later on,” Toby replied.

“You do know the club’s open until 2am. You weren’t planning on leaving early were you?”

“Is it? I might have to make other arrangements then.”

Toby hadn’t forgot about the closing time, but wasn’t going to let on to Tom his plans for the evening.

Tom gave Toby a quizzical look, while Ella merely rolled her eyes.

They arrived at the venue within a few minutes, and Toby glanced around. There were a few faces he’d seen before, but then he caught sight of a very familiar face. He looked away quickly, cursing under his breath.

“Everything alright,” Tom asked.

Tom’s question took Toby by surprise.

“Yes, yes…” he answered quickly, aware that Tom was regarding him a little more closely, knowing something was wrong.

Toby dared not look over again, for fear Tom would spot the object of his consternation. Her long, wavy brown hair, her big brown eyes, her full red lips; Antonia was well known to Toby, being the object of his desire for some time now. He wanted to possess her, to own her completely, her mind, body and soul. She stirred something within him that he hadn’t felt for a long time.

But she was always surrounded by other Doms who wanted her attentions for themselves. A popular submissive, and a very selective one too. She was spoilt for choice, and Toby would never get a look in.

But still, though in his mind he did not have a chance, he didn’t feel comfortable being there tonight with her there. He felt what would happen would put her off completely.

Toby spotted Tom watching him, so he excused himself, and went off to the toilets for some time to gather his thoughts alone.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!

He went over to the sink and splashed his face.

Not her! Not here! Not now!

He regarded himself in the mirror; it seemed every crease and every wrinkle on his face had come to the fore. His shoulders dropped forward, his dominant posture went, as he leaned over the sink, his mind racing.

Much to his regret, he was now committed, whatever the consequences.

He stood, and pushed his shoulders back, chest forward, and breathed in slowly. He took back control of his facial features, projecting a neutral expression.

He breathed out.

Two more breaths, and he was back in control – he was the Dom again. He clenched and unclenched his fists, and rolled his head around to ease the tension in his neck. He dried his face, and took one last deep breath before he strode out of the toilets.

He was somewhat relieved to see Tom and Ella sat down with drinks already; that would make things easier. When Tom spotted Toby, he stood.

“I’ll get your drink,” he called over.

Toby shook his head.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get my own.”

He turned to the barman, and spoke just loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I’ll have an Earl Grey tea please.”

The barman nodded, and turned.

“Wanker!”

It was a female voice behind him. Toby stiffened and slowly looked around.

“I beg your pardon,” he said in a measured tone.

“Wanker!”

Toby blinked incredulously. And though unnecessary, he spoke again, with a challenging tone.

“I’m sorry?”

“Wanker! Only a complete tosser asks for tea in a bar, never mind Earl Grey!”

Toby was caught off guard momentarily. This was Antonia, his dream submissive, calling him out.

Her expression changed briefly to one of uncertainty until Toby regained his composure. It was his turn to catch her off guard as he sped over to her table, grabbed her hair, and pulled her out of her seat, sending her sprawling across the floor.

In the corner of his eye he saw Tom stand, and was relieved when Ella grabbed him and pulled him down again. Tom just watched, open mouthed, as Toby dragged Antonia towards a wall, pulled her up, and pinned her against it by her throat, squeezing slightly.

“I’m sure that isn’t what you really meant to say, was it?” he said, narrowing her eyes.

“Wanker!” she rasped through his hand.

He closed his hand a little more. Though her face began to change colour, she remained defiant, so he slapped her across her face.

“Wanker!” she croaked again.

“Then I shall turn you into wank fodder, because that’s all you’re worth,” he replied, reaching for the knife he had concealed beneath his jacket.

He heard a gasp when the blade was produced, He released his grip on her throat slightly, still holding her firmly in place, as he began to slice his way through her clothes. First the blouse, revealing a beautifully lacy bra; she had gone to some effort. Then the skirt, revealing the stockings, suspenders, and lacy panties that matched her bra; she had definitely gone to some trouble tonight – he hoped she had a change of clothes with her.

He was grateful for the fact that though sizeably endowed, she was not so large breasted as to require an underwired bra, so the bra cut off with ease, letting her delicious looking breasts free. Putting the knife between his teeth, he slapped each one of them hard, feeling some satisfaction as he watched her flinch with every stroke.

He released his grip on her throat and quickly grabbed her hair, forcing her down to her knees.

“You were saying?”

“Wanker!”

He stroked the blade of the knife up and down her throat; he saw a flash of fear in her eyes as he did so, and smiled a wicked smile. He brushed the blade against her lips as he spoke.

“I think we need to fill that filthy little mouth with something,” he said, a menacing tone to his voice.

He felt gratified to see her face change completely. Her mouth wavered, unsure of how to deal with him.

“You’re a filthy cock-sucker, and that’s how you’ll be treated,” he said.

He saw the relief in her eyes.

“I’ll bite your fucking cock off, you wanker,” she retorted.

He dragged her to where Tom and Ella were sitting, and forced Antonia’s head between Tom’s legs.

“Start sucking, cock-sucker. You’re going to drink every man dry in this house tonight.”

He slapped her ass hard to reinforce his command.

“Fuck off, wanker,” she said, but unzipped Tom’s fly, and took his semi-erect cock into her mouth and began working on it.

Toby felt it was a pity to cut such beautiful panties, but it had to be done. He then stroked her inner thighs up and down with the blade.

“That’s it, cock-sucker, that’s all you’re good for!”

He was impressed by her technique; a mixture of hands, her lips, tongue, as well as deep throating.

“Make him come as quick as you can,” he said, as he began to pat her clitoris with the flat of the blade.

She worked harder on Tom’s cock – Toby wasn’t sure how long he would last before shooting his load into the back of Antonia’s throat.

Toby looked up to see Ella regarding him closely. He winked at her, and smiled, hoping she got the message.

Ella withdrew her crop and placed it against Tom’s neck, pulling his head back by the hair.

“Don’t you dare fucking come,” she spat at him.

Ella had got the message alright.

“Those stockings are much too fine for a dirty slut like you,” Toby said, ripping large holes in them.

“Now make him come quickly, otherwise I’ll start cutting,” he said, as he pushed the flat of his blade against her clit again to emphasise the point.

Antonia began to work harder.

Ella climbed up on the seat, and began to slap Tom’s face hard, leaving his cheeks red.

“Don’t you fucking dare come in that whore’s mouth!” she hissed.

Of course, such discouragement would only turn on a submissive male even more. Toby chuckled to himself, as he watched what he could see of Tom’s face turning red with attempted restraint.

“Come on, whore,” Toby growled. “Make him come!”

He moved the knife between her buttocks, where he gently dragged it across her arsehole.

One of the secrets of safe knife play is it you have to have a very sharp knife, and Toby’s was exceptionally sharp. He was also very familiar with it, so he knew it would not require much pressure to tear apart her flesh. Antonia squirmed, but Toby managed to anticipate her moves so as not to cause any damage.

He noticed Tom swallow and close his eyes, so Toby pushed Antonia’s head right down onto him; she gagged for a moment, and then gurgled, Tom’s come dribbling out of the corners of her mouth.

Toby grinned to himself.

He pulled Antonia’s head off his cock, and pulled her head upwards, and teased the knife between her lips.

“Now swallow the lot!” he demanded.

She opened her mouth, and he used the knife blade to ensure she didn’t close it again as he inspected the contents; indeed the greedy girl had swallowed the lot.

Her removed the knife and grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks with his hand, and made her look into his eyes, his face severe.

“You’re nothing but a filthy common whore,” he spat. “You’re not even worthy of me wanking all over you, cum-slut!”

“But I would swallow every drop, sir,” she replied.

Toby was taken aback again. He dragged her along the floor, and spun her round, and slapped her face before spitting on it. He didn’t much approve of the act, but it somehow seemed appropriate.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied.

He grabbed her throat, and slapped her face a few times, only to be thanked again.

Toby grew angry, with her, and with himself. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and regained his self-control. She watched him intently as he did, and he returned her gaze.

Conscious of the crowd watching, he release his grip, pushing her backwards.

“On your knees before me, whore!” he said coolly.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, kneeling, and bending over until her head touched the floor, her arms stretched out along the floor, her hands almost touching his shoes.

He wanted to stroke her skin softly. He wanted to strip the torn stockings from her, and make her look beautiful again. He wanted to pick her up and take her away to care for her properly. But that wasn’t why they were here.

He realised all eyes were upon him, awaiting his next move.

“You shall not be so insolent again!”

“No, sir,” she said quietly, but loud enough or everyone to hear.

“Do I need reinforce this lesson?”

She paused for a moment.

“That is up to sir.”

A good answer. Toby was surprised at how quickly she became compliant. But he had to follow through.

A knife he can hide under his jacket, but crops, paddles and floggers are a little more awkward to carry discretely. Although not his favourite tool, he unfastened his belt and drew it from his trousers.

He walked around behind her, spending a few moments to admire her derriere. He’d dreamed about play with that adorable arse; teasing, fisting, seeing it with a decorative butt plug. But tonight it would not be his fingers, tongue or toys she’d be feeling, but the sting of his belt.

He folded it round, and held it across her buttocks; he noticed her clench a little in readiness. A piece of ginger would have been good about now.

“I will give you six,” he said.

Someone snorted, to Toby’s irritation.

“And you will count them.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

He paused, and heard the snorter whisper “how predictable.”

“How is your French?” he demanded.

She paused a moment.

“It’s okay, sir,” she replied.

He smiled.

“Then you will count in Welsh.”

He could almost sense her thoughts; should she say something, or should she stay quiet. Obviously this was a new one on her.

“Yes, sir,” she answered, clenching her buttocks.

He struck her with the belt; not too hard, as he didn’t know her limits.

He waited.

“One,” she said.

He struck her again.

“Un!” he said. “We shall start again.”

He struck her again, a little harder. Her buttocks rippled in response.

“Un.”

He struck again.

“Deux,” she said.

He struck her again.

“Dau,” he said. “Start again.”

He stroked her bottom with the belt for a few moments, and drew back and struck.

“Un,” she said.

He hit again.

“Dau.”

And again.

“Drei.”

He knelt beside her, and pulled her head up by her hair.

“Tri,” he said.

“Sorry sir,” she said, her eyes lowered.

“Then pedwar, pump, chwech,” he told her. “Got it?”

“Yes sir,” she said.

If he’d continued, he could have had her arse beyond red raw. Doing this, he was putting the onus on her; if she wished to be whipped within an inch of her life, then she could choose to get them wrong.

“We’ll start again.”

He struck.

“Un.”

And again.

“Dau.”

And again. Her cheeks were getting nicely marked.

“Tri.”

She shook her bottom  slightly after the next stroke – he was obviously at her limit.

“Pedwar.”

He eased off slightly for the next stoke, and heard her sigh.

“Pump.”

He placed the belt across her buttocks, holding it still, building the anticipation, both within her, and their attentive audience.

The room got even quieter, he could almost hear her heart beating. Nobody moved. It was as if time had stopped.

That moment.

Toby stood perfectly still, and Antonia held her posture perfectly.

She was a well-trained submissive.

Toby eked out that moment a little longer.

With his final stroke, he made it sound worse than actually it was. There was a gasp somewhere.

“Chwech,” she replied after a few moments.

She knew how to play a crowd as well.

“Thank you sir,” she said, still in position on the floor, her arse cheeks glowing.

He took a breath.

“Now get up, and get out of my sight!”

“Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

She quickly got up, and hurried to the toilets. Toby glanced over quickly, and winced at the sight of her torn stockings.

He sat down, and took a sip of his now cold Earl Grey tea.

Everyone in the room, watched for a moment, and then turned back and started their conversations.

Tom looked at Toby open-mouthed, while Ella smirked. A well-dressed woman in her mid-forties walked over.

“That was a little intense in places,” she said.

Toby looked up, and vaguely recognised the woman.

“I’ve seen you perform before,” she continued. “That’s why I booked you for this evening.”

Toby raised his eyebrows, before thanking her. He was wary of ‘fans’.

“Had you worked with that girl before?” she asked.

Toby shook his head.

“Never,” he said.

“Do you have a submissive?” she asked.

Now it came.

“I am quite particular about whom I choose,” he said.

“I’m sorry?” she said.

He realised she wasn’t asking to be his submissive, just if he had one.

“Oh, no. Not at the moment. I don’t do this when I have, as I concentrate all my efforts on my sub. But in between I top, and these performances help me keep my hand in,” he joked and smiled.

He noticed Antonia emerge from the toilets, dressed in a sweatshirt and jogging bottoms. Practical rather than elegant; Toby admired that for a moment.

“I find it rather interesting,” the woman was obviously intrigued. “How many performances do you do?”

“It depends. Sometimes a couple a week.”

Antonia came over towards them. Toby smiled at her. No permanent injuries. Toby noticed that someone had cleared up the remainder of her clothes from the floor whilst she was getting changed.

“Do you have a regular partner, or is it always someone different?”

He watched as Antonia got down on her knees, back perfectly upright, her head bowed, her eyes lowered before him. A perfect submissive pose.

“Usually it’s whoever the agent can find who’s available.”

Toby was getting a little distracted with Antonia silently kneeling before him.

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but noticed Toby was distracted by Antonia.

“Well, please excuse me,” she said, looking between the two of them. “And thank you both for the entertainment tonight.”

She wondered off, leaving Toby to focus on Antonia. He was aware that Ella and Tom were watching, so he leant over and whispered in her ear.

“It’s over now. You can go back to your friends.”

She looked up at him.

“But sir-“

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’ve finished.”

“No.”

She spoke quietly.

“I want to be yours, sir. Not just for tonight.”

Toby regarded her; her eyes looked into his, almost pleadingly.

Her was the woman he’d dreamed about for the last few months, on her knees, offering herself to him.

All the things they could do together, her willingness to submit, her acceptance of her punishments. He had never dreamed he could have anyone like her, and was surprised she was her, now, before him.

He took a deep breath.

There was only one possible answer he could give her.

He lifted her chin, and looked into her beautiful brown eyes.

He opened his mouth, and breathed in. He could kiss those luscious lips of hers.

He exhaled.

He said the only thing he could possible say to her.

“No.”

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About ~T~

Saucy scribbler of fun, filth and fornication. Gentleman and Master of his own Domesne. On Twitter @Author_TMasters & facebook.com/Terry.Masters.BDSM.Author/ View all posts by ~T~

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