PATRIOTS: Please, believe!
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by
phair
Connor sat amid lush sheets and pillows on a low but plushy cushioned plinth. Her fingers gently caressed the leather leash between them. She found the motion relaxing and the jangle of chains that resulted from an occasional tug was almost intoxicating. Shifting forward, nearing the edge, Connor allowed herself to rub her clit against the inseam of her tight leathers as she examined her prized possession.
Sammi knelt at her feet. Naked. Hair drawn back in a loose braid. Head bowed. Mouth muzzled. Shackled; hands behind back and hogtied to her ankles. The cuffs matched the dark leather and shimmering steel collar around her neck. Her pussy remained under lock and key as it had for more than three weeks.
“Still happy you begged me to take you back to your former Mistress?” Connor taunted in a whisper as her right hand fondled Sammi’s exposed ass cheek.
Sammi did not respond.
Connor smirked. “So, now you’re quiet.”
For days on end, Sammi had asked, pleaded, and begged Connor to take her to her former Mistress Gina for training. As Sammi’s entreaties increased and intensified, Connor’s own anxiety about the rapidly approaching Golden Globes grew exponentially.
Finally, in a fit of unfathomable temper, Connor grabbed Sammi’s cell phone and barked, “WHAT’S that CUNT’S number!”
Connor grimaced remembering the bruises on Sammi’s thighs from the rough fucking that followed the phone call. “You like it hard, don’t you?” Connor asked just before slapping Sammi’s ass.
Sammi moaned.
“You like it rough like this, don’t you?” Connor whispered in her ear as she smacked the bare bottom again. “You like me to be merciless.”
Sammi moaned louder. Her eyes fluttered closed as if savoring the sensation. Ever so slightly, she eased her hips back to close the distance between herself and Connor’s hand. Connor obliged her and paddled the firm round cheek hard and fast for several minutes.
“So, you’ve discovered the key to controlling your slave, I see,” a low voice intoned from across the dimly lit room. “The more you hurt her, the more completely she belongs to you.”
Connor didn’t answer. Instead, she breathed in the scent of her lover’s arousal while she toyed with the heated, beaten skin beneath her hand. A shiver went down her spine when Sammi bucked into the embrace.
“Easy,” she cautioned and snapped the leash to settle the woman. “I’ll let you come but not yet. It would seem I’ve some business to attend to with your former owner.”
Sammi muttered unintelligibly behind her muzzle but calmed with the promise. Connor rewarded her with a couple of hard scrubs to her clit. Sammi tossed her head back and snorted loudly in relief with the small dose of attention to her aching need.
“I never understood the key to Sammi. I tried to love her but that’s not what she’s about.” The sleek platinum blonde dominatrix sneered as she stepped within arm’s reach of Connor. “You’ve got yourself a little pain slut there, Connor.”
Connor kept the soft leather leash firmly in the grasp of her left hand as she jumped to her feet. She swung a vicious backhand and connected with Gina’s jaw before the dominatrix even realized Connor was moving. Gina collapsed on the floor and was covered with Connor’s sturdy frame hovering over her cowering body.
“NEVER!” Connor shouted as she pinned the shaken woman to the floor. “You are never to speak to me without the proper address. I’M MASTER CONNOR! Do you understand, bitch?”
“Yes, Master,” Gina answered in a quivering voice. “I understand, Master Connor.”
“Good,” Connor replied with a simple nod.
She rose slowly while eyeing the cringing woman. Satisfied Gina would stay where she lay, Connor returned to her seat. She let her fingers resume their strokes to the leather for a few moments to regain her composure. Once she was sure she could remain in control, she allowed the game to resume with a finger snap.
“My slave believed you were her Mistress, once upon a time. Granted, a pathetic thing like you might seem slightly stronger than her sniveling, pussy whipped husband if even by some small margin.” Connor grinned and snapped Sammi’s leash causing the woman to straighten up while still on her knees. “However, times do change and people’s needs with them. Sammi belongs to me now. She gave herself to me. She’ll remain my slave until I decided to give her away or sell her off.”
Sammi’s chains jingled as a shudder ran the length of her. Her wide eyes turned to Connor and searched for reassurance. Connor’s smug grin indicated none would be forth coming.
“If not training your slave then how may I serve you, Master Connor?” Gina asked.
“Beg.”
“Please Master, how may I serve you?” Gina’s voice trembled with anticipation.
“Take your clothes off and bend over here,” Connor instructed as she patted the space next to her.
Sammi moaned again and tugged against the leash.
Connor hushed her. “Be still. Master’s gonna butt fuck her new bitch. You just be patient and wait your turn.”
“Please,” Gina pleaded from her place on the plinth, “nobody’s had me this way since my Master died. It’s been years. Please Connor…,”
Connor silenced her with a hard spank to her bare ass. “What did you call me?”
“I’m sorry, Master Connor, I’m sorry. Please have mercy. Please,” Gina sobbed was betrayed by the flushing on her cheeks.
“Some big tough dominatrix you are,” Connor sneered as she stood. “You’re just as fake as everything else in this town.” Connor stated as she stepped behind the woman and unzipped her pants.
Sammi’s muffled cries began anew as Connor eased out her strap on cock. Shaking her head and rattling her chains, Sammi tried to creep closer to Connor. Another hard snap of her leash stopped Sammi’s efforts.
“Enough!” Connor commanded.
The room fell grew quiet when the echo of the order subsided. Connor waited a moment to relish the power she held over these women. She took a deep breath and drew her hips back. With a forceful thrust, Connor set both her slaves screaming into the night.
“Would you describe this as a real Cinderella story?” A voice shouted from the sea of flashing bulbs and competing questions.
“Sure, you know, the one were Cinderella is a butch dominatrix with two willing slaves in her harem,” Connor thought to herself as Joyce answered the question.
“Our wins here tonight show what friendship and talent and intelligence can accomplish.”
“Speaking of intelligence,” a voice in the back boomed, “isn’t it unlikely any of the voters in the foreign press actually saw your picture?”
Pictures stopped being snapped and the other journalists stopped shouting questions.
“I mean, you only invited 200 of the smartest people to see it. How many of them are members of the foreign press? For that matter, how many people actually saw Dumbstruck? More than fifteen hundred big names and politicians have already claimed to see it.”
“Well,” Benjy tried to speak but his voice broke and sweat started to bead on his forehead.
“There are rumors the film doesn’t even exist,” another voice called from across the room.
The press corps started to jockey for positions to shout their questions and capture pictures of the clearly nervous trio on stage. Voices mixed but the content of the questions remained clear: “When will there be a general release?” “When will the rest of the press corp see the movie? “When?” “When?” “When?”
“Is this anyway to behave?” Joyce shouted the crowd down. “I mean really, how rude? Instead of allowing us a moment to bask in our collective glory, you mean spirited little trolls ruin everything! Freedom of the press, ha. It should be freedom from the press. We were just getting ready to surprise you tonight by announcing a showing of Dumbstruck on February 24.”
The room erupted in yelling and pushing. Every reporter lunged toward the stage. Connor felt the platform shudder when security raced out to force the unruly crowd back. Saul and his bodyguards hurried out on the stage and whisked Connor and Benjy backstage. Joyce happily sauntered along behind the group.
“One day, very soon, I’m going to murder you, Joyce,” Saul growled when the woman joined them in the private back room.
Connor stepped forward raising her Golden Globe, “Let me do it, Saul. It’ll be a mercy killing.”
“Stop.” Saul grabbed Connor by the wrist and removed the potential weapon. “We were going to need to do a general distribution anyway. At least, the twit created a cheap buzz. But, now I’ve got to work out the venue and such.” Saul gave a shrug, “Could be worse. You guys could’ve lost and nobody would be talking about you. The boys and me are gonna get a car ready to take you back to your place then we’ll clear a path out of here. We’ll be back in a few.”
Once the door shut, Connor looked to Benjy and whispered, “Tell me you finished it.”
Benjy shook his head no. With tears in his eyes, he turned on Joyce, “You know what, Joyce? You’re a real bitch.”
“No darling,” Joyce giggled, “I’m an award winning bitch.”
