JO

My latest submissive experiences her first public exhibition.

Part One

Chapter One

Stepping into the sparsely occupied foyer of the stereotypical Manor house of a well heeled fetish club, approaching the counter, she obediently follows in my footsteps. A full flowing crimson cape encircles her body, the silhouettes of her firm breasts pressed outward against the clinging and nearly translucent chiffon material. Shoulders arched seductively back, her cuffed wrists beneath the cape interlock across her buttocks as we step through several inquisitive onlookers. One foot leading directly in front of the other in her six inch stilettos with each short, measured stride, she remains an obedient distance behind and to the side as her dark eyes remain focused toward the floor.

The pleasantly surprised expression of the host as he hears the rising murmurs, glances up toward me, then toward Jo’s impeccably made up presence is quite understandable; after all, this being her initial visit to the club its his first time seeing her. Me, I’ve been known to bring a submissive or two to the club in the past. As I stop and turn, without as much as a smile I reach out, part the top of her robe fully exposing her almost overly large but naturally firm breasts. Carefully aligning the spreading cloth to curl around the tanned globular mounds allowing the material to drape down, I expose her highly mounted areolas with the firm buds of the slightly darker nipples protruding, jaunting apart as they glisten.

Spreading the edges of the cape further back across her smallish, almost boyish hips, I expose the overall even tan of her otherwise naked body to my old acquaintance behind the desk. Glistening, her flattened stomach gently hollowing beneath her ripe, pendulous melons as her abs ripple with each measured breath, the parted slit between her legs’ exposed beneath her baby smooth, freshly shaven pubic area. The invitingly puffy folds of her labium only partially concealing the nub of her clitoris, the moist encircling flesh appears to twitch while the thigh, calve muscles of her sleek, thoroughbred legs flex as she balances herself in the pair of black, spiked heels.

Watching him watching her, sensing the other’s attention being drawn toward us as they step closer in unison like insects to a campfire, I glance toward her myself, watching the slightest of a twitch of her left breast, even a noticeable jiggle of the nipple with each heart beat. With the obvious attention I must admit to my personal amusement, even arrogance at having total control of such a specimen of beauty and submissiveness to flaunt in front of the members lucky enough to be present for this occasion.

Having her professionally made-up for her presentation, her dark woven hair hanging down, disappearing beneath the cape in a nice tight braid reaching the small of her back, her mascara, eye shadow, her obediently parted ruby lips perfect, I can just imagine the envy in the room, the other’s thoughts of her youthful body being mine for the taking, to do with as I please, as I certainly frequently do.

Casually reaching for the cape’s neck clasp, unfastening the clip, sliding the flowing crimson material back off her arched shoulders, the faded, barely visible remnants of multiple whip marks of over a week ago are exposed in full view of the mounting onlookers. The hushed murmurs overwhelmingly favorable, besides the stilettos, only fixed wrist cuffs; unshackled ankle cuffs and a matching black chocker collar complete her otherwise naked body’s ornamentation. Leisurely folding, laying the robe across the desk, reaching behind her, retrieving a rolled up leader chain from one unclenching hand, a short riding crop from her other, I clasp the chain to the front of her chocker collar. Positioning the tip of the inflexible black crop beneath her chin, tilting her head upward, I teasingly glance around the patrons as I cup a bare breast, tweak her puckering nipple a couple times between my thumbnail and forefinger.

Hearing just a hint of a moan as the tip of my nail disappears into the edge of the hardening nub, catching the briefest of a glance from her darting eyes, flexing my wrist; I allow the end of the crop to flick across just the tip of her other nipple. ‘Thwack!’

Her eyes again darting downward to obediently focus on the floor where she knows they belong, I appreciate the murmurs, the obvious anticipation of the ever mounting group, now including inquisitive