On the Stage - Part 2 [M/f] [public] [consent] [voyeurism] [punishment] [overstimulation] [blindfold] [possessive] [praise] [degradation] [humiliation] [no sex]

Part 1

In the middle of the otherwise pitch-black room sat a brightly lit stage. It was on a raised platform, perhaps one or two feet off the ground, with steps leading up to it on the side opposite where a bed sat. The bed was large, fitted with restraints dangling at each corner. There was a small bedside drawer on its left side, which I assumed contained toys, but there were also toys elsewhere on the stage. Hanging on what could’ve resembled a clothing rack were whips, restraints, gags, and toys, almost like a wall of devices to be used by a torturer.

It made me so damn nervous, seeing that, but especially when eyes began turning towards me and Archer. Before we could get to the stage, though, Archer stopped me and grabbed my face. “We are only doing this if you want to,” he said low enough for only me to hear. “Say peaches right now, and we’ll go back to the bar and relax the rest of the night. No one will judge you. No one will be upset. This will only happen if you tell me you want this.”

My heart ached at his concern and sincerity. I hadn’t realized just how unnerved I’d become from seeing so many people in this room, all waiting for me, but hearing Archer’s reminder steadied me again.

I knew no one in this room would be allowed in here if they didn’t respect my consent and boundaries. I think that was what made me nod and say, “I want this, sir.”

Archer smiled, wide and proud, and my heart swelled. “That’s my girl,” he said, kissing me once. And with a hand at the small of my back, he began leading me towards the stage.

We’d talked about this before, back when we’d learned of this club, and I’d expressed interest in doing something public like this. This hadn’t come out of nowhere, but it still surprised me, though what surprised me most was how much of a thrill I felt in my body as my heels clicked on the wooden steps.

There had to be dozens of people, all facing Archer and me. It was difficult to ignore the feel of so many eyes on me, making me rub my elbow, but Archer seemed confident and in control.

I could hear some people chattering amongst themselves, even a few comments about us. I felt a bit like I was being dissected, yet I didn’t want to leave. Not yet. But I knew if I changed my mind, Archer wouldn’t be upset with me, nor anyone else.

Archer stood in front of me, the bed at my back, and grabbed my chin in a firm grip. I heard several audible gasps at that move. “Do you want to know what I had planned for you tonight, Bailey?”

There was nothing to do but nod.

“I was going to lay you down on this bed,” he started, swiping my hair away from my shoulder, “and tie you to it. I was going to peel off those flimsy little panties of yours and go down on you until you were begging for me to stop.” He toyed with the strap of my dress as I struggled to get control of my breathing. “And then I was going to fuck you and make you scream my name for everyone in this room to hear.”

I swallowed. “And now, sir?” I couldn’t keep my voice from shaking.

He tugged the strap down my shoulder, then did the same on the other side. “Now, since you had to be a little brat, I might not even touch you at all.”

“Please, I’m sorry,” I tried.

“No you’re not,” he countered, reaching behind me to unzip my dress. “But you will be.”

My dress slipped to the floor, leaving me naked save for my collar, shoes, and soaked panties. I felt so many eyes on me, tracking my naked body, every curse and every dip. My nipples stiffened, my hands turned to fists at my sides, as Archer gently lay me down on the bed.

And just for me to hear, he whispered, “Peaches, and it’s all over, okay?” I nodded, earning a kiss to my cheek.

Archer began by strapping my wrists to the restraints at the top corners of the bed, then did the same with my ankles, spreading me wide on the bed. The bed was low enough that everyone could see my spread body, and I could do nothing to stop them from getting their fill of my naked skin and flesh.

My panties were a mockery of modesty. They were drenched from my recent orgasm, though the lace was flimsy and revealing enough already that it likely didn’t matter. I was practically naked, or at least I felt that way.

My head was propped up a comfortable pillow, letting me watch as Archer stroked his fingers through the various whips and restraints hanging on the rack. He was toying with me, I knew, letting my mind imagine the horrible things he could do to me in front of all these people.

I bit the inside of my lip when he tugged at a painful-looking whip, examining it for several long moments. I slumped with relief when he moved on, earning a few chuckles from the crowd.

Assholes.

But I couldn’t deny how much my body hummed under their attention, how much I was throbbing and aching between my legs as the dark shadows surrounding the stage stared at me. I didn’t know what they saw, but whatever it was captivated them enough to remain wholly focused on me.

It took him a minute to find what he was looking for. Archer returned to the bed with a blindfold dangling from his fingertip, and I obediently raised my head to allow him to put it on me when indicated.

If he had chosen the blindfold to be a comfort to me, it wasn’t working. There was nothing I could do to forget how many people were seeing me like this, bound and spread wide, nothing I could do to imagine I was anywhere else.

I felt Archer kneeling next to the bed, leaning over me to place his mouth by my ear. “Tell me rule number two.”

It was neither for my benefit or his, I knew, to have me say one of our most important rules out loud. “I’m not allowed to come without your permission, sir.”

“Good girl.” He kissed the side of my head. “Don’t you forget that.”

I frowned beneath my blindfold, but I nodded. He stood and walked away somewhere, and I heard him grabbing something.

A loud buzz greeted my ears a moment before a vibrator pressed against my underwear.

I yelped and writhed at the shock that shot through me. It was a wand, which I could tell from the shape and the damn intense vibrations. I rarely used one myself as it was simply too much, and Archer knew that, and yet here he was, forcing me to feel those intense vibrations against my most sensitive parts.

And that he was doing this in front of so many people—

The vibrator pressed close to my clit, my underwear a pointless barrier. Archer pressed the toy so tight against me that I could feel the fabric slipping between my lips, sticking to my skin. The sweat certainly wasn’t helping either.

Archer pulled the vibrator away without warning, leaving me slumped in the bed, catching my breath. “We’re only just getting started,” he cooed. “Don’t tell me you’ve already had enough. You have a long night ahead of you.”

Then the vibrator returned.

On and on it went, buzzing through my entire body. It was so intense that, at first, I felt nothing but uncomfortable, and yet the combination of sensations, of being watched, of being bound and blindfolded, of being forced by my husband to feel these vibrations, it all made the buzzing start to feel good. Still overwhelming, but with each passing minute as I got more and more used to it, I began chasing the pleasure Archer was feeding into me.

I couldn’t stop from moaning, but begging felt too mortifying in this crowded room, so I just let it happen, even as I was getting closer to another release. I knew he wouldn’t give in any time soon, anyway.

But the vibrator was so intense. He had it pressed so closely that I could feel nothing else, and at that point I was grateful for the blindfold, just so no one could see the tears brimming in my eyes from the sheer intensity of it.

And my climax was approaching. I was close, so achingly close, and I didn’t want him to stop so I stayed quiet, but then pleasure spread throughout my body, and oh God, oh God, oh God—

I let out a scream when the vibrator was wrenched away from me. “No, please,” I begged, then promptly shut my mouth.

“Please?” Archer mocked, earning a chuckle or two from the crowd. I heard him moving, then felt his breath the right side of my face. “But you look so pretty when you’re needy and desperate, baby.”

I shivered as he grazed my nipple with the backs of his knuckles.

“Don’t you want these people to see how pretty you get when you’re begging for it?”

I bit my lip, because I had no good answer to that. All I managed was a “Please make me come, sir.”

He let out a little growl at my tone. “Pretty girl,” he praised. “My good little girl.”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Then say it.”

“What?” I turned to face him, forgetting about the blindfold.

“Say you’re my good little girl. Go on. Loud so everyone can hear you.”

Humiliation soared through me, sharp and burning hot, and yet it was so very easy to obey him. “I’m your good little girl, sir.”

Several audible groans emanated throughout the room, mostly male, including from my husband. “So fucking obedient, aren’t you?”

His hand gripped my thigh, the other groping my breast and tugging at my nipple hard enough for me to cry out. “Yes, sir. Always for you.”

He trailed his hand closer to where I needed him most, to the place where I was drenching my underwear beyond repair. “Look how wet you are,” he teased. His finger hooked into my panties, pulling them to the side and baring me for everyone to see. The urge to squeeze my legs together was strong, but I couldn’t even if I wanted to, as I was still spread so, so wide by the restraints.

Archer spent some long moments stroking his fingers up and down the length of me. I shivered with each graze of his fingers against my clit, electricity coursing up my spine with each little touch. “So responsive,” Archer teased. “I wonder what you’ll do if I do this…”

He pushed two fingers into me so fast I could do nothing to stop him. They pushed so deep, even when I was clenching them tightly, and a whimpering moan slipped from my lips.

“Good girl,” Archer praised. “Just let it happen.”

I relaxed as best I could as he continued fingering me, so achingly slowly. I could feel my release coming, somewhere distantly, as the feel of Archer’s thick fingers inside me made arousal pour into me.

“More,” I said between choked gasps, gritting my teeth.

“More?” Archer mocked. “Demanding, aren’t you?”

Before I could muster a reply, he pulled his fingers out. I opened my mouth to protest, but what came out instead was a loud, shuddered scream as my husband slapped me between the legs.

I whimpered just as many in the crowd gasped or moaned. What they were doing, I had no idea, but it felt as though a million sets of eyes were glued to my naked body, suffering for their amusement.

I was still throbbing with pain when Archer placed the vibrator between my thighs yet again. I let out a few useless protests, but they faded away into a wet sob once the vibrations picked up.

“Remember to ask nicely,” Archer reminded me, as though I was a petulant child.

I still nodded, of course. What else was there to do?

And so I lay there, letting the vibrations work through me. Pleasure began building rapidly, everything from the moment we got out of the car pushing me closer and closer to this moment. I tried to keep it at bay, as I was sure Archer would make me publicly beg for hours before letting me come, but I couldn’t stop from slipping out, “Please let me come, sir.”

I expected him to say no, but what I instead got was a sincere “Be a good girl and come for me, Bailey.”

As though his permission was all I needed, my climax crashed into me, and I fell. It felt as though I was floating five feet above the bed, still gloriously in view of every person in this room, as pleasure shook my limbs and flushed my skin.

I need a shower, was my first thought when I relaxed again. I was so damn sweaty from all this.

Only Archer didn’t remove the vibrator. He kept it at just the same speed, just the same pressure, and though I tried to protest, all that came out were moans and gasps and whimpers.

My second orgasm came minutes later, and my third followed soon behind that.

“Please stop,” I begged of Archer. “It’s too much, sir.”

“You can take it,” was all he said.

He knew what I could take, so the message was clear. Unless I called my safeword, I would lay in this bed with the vibrator tight against me until he had decided I’d had enough.

A fourth climax crept into me.

It was torturous, all this pleasure becoming too overwhelming, and yet I had nothing to do but lay there while he made me come and come and come. But despite how overwhelming it was, every part of me was still screaming how much I loved this, being at his mercy in such a public space, being forced to take anything and everything this man gave me.

I didn’t want him to stop, not even as the fifth and the sixth orgasms hit me like a sledgehammer, not even as Archer taunted and humiliated me with his words.

It was only when I’d hit the seventh that finally, mercifully, the vibrator shut off.

Tears soaked the fabric of my blindfold as Archer slowly peeled it off. The bright lights blinded me, but what I found once I cleared my vision was Archer with a soft smile on his face, radiantly proud of his wife, his submissive.

I smiled back as he wiped away my tears. “Such a good girl,” he said low enough for only me to hear.

I blinked, then I looked around at the still thick crowd. Some looked starstruck at me and Archer, others were making out with whoever was nearest. I caught Travis with his fingers between Mira’s thighs, and the two of them were far from alone in finding their own pleasure while this was happening.

Slowly, as though the blindfold had been some cue, the lights in the room began turning on, and people began mingling out. Mira and Travis remained by one of the walls while everyone else left, just as Archer was busy untying me and wiping sweat from my face.

“You did so well,” he praised, hugging me. “My good fucking girl, Bailey.”

“Thank you…” I whispered, hugging him back.

We remained there for a while before Archer gently said, “There’s a room in the back where we can have some time for ourselves. We’ll have aftercare when we get home regardless, but if you want to relax in there, we can do that. There’s a bed, a TV, some water, some—”

“I’m fine,” I interrupted before he could make a whole list. “I don’t want to stop yet.”

He frowned at me. “Stop what?”

“Being your submissive tonight.”

The grin he flashed me was wide and proud. “Then let’s get you dressed again, little girl.”

My panties were likely permanently ruined, but I let Archer wipe my body clean of sweat before slipping the dress back on me. It was only then that Mira and Travis made their way over to us, the former hugging me tight.

“Oh my God, that was awesome,” she said into my ear. “You did great!”

I chuckled. “Thanks.”

Archer slung a possessive arm around me once more, and I so very easily slipped back into our power dynamic, letting him take charge of everything. Travis grinned at him, winking, and the four of us made our way to the exit.

When we went back into the main floor, I saw Zoey by the bar, grinning at us. I shot her a shy smile back, but Archer, like the caveman he was, hugged me tighter as though staking his claim.

Still, all four of us sat with her, and as we got to chatting, I remained by Archer’s side, his submissive wife, glowing and happy.

All I could think for the rest of the night, the drive back, the aftercare, for the rest of the week, was just how badly I wanted to do this again.