Voyeur Read online

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Voyeur

  ISBN #978-0-85715-027-1

  ©Copyright Sierra Cartwright 2010

  Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright February 2010

  Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-melting.

  VOYEUR

  Sierra Cartwright

  Chapter One

  “Tell me what you see.”

  Marnie jumped. A bit of her martini sloshed over the side of her glass, spilling onto the polished hardwood floor.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Master Zachary?

  A shiver chased down her spine. Although she’d never met him, she recognised the sound of his commanding baritone. She’d dreamt of him telling her to strip, to drop to her knees, to suck his cock. Now, with him so close, the reality of his voice sent a delicious thrill arrowing through her insides, making her hot and wet. Well, hotter and wetter than she had been only a minute ago. Damn. This man was the stuff of fantasies.

  She started to turn to face him, but he closed his strong, forceful hands around her shoulders, keeping her firmly in place. “No. Stay where you are.”

  Her response to his voice, to his touch, surprised her. She didn’t normally have this kind of raw response to any man. Not only did he unnerve her, but she was a bit embarrassed to have been caught staring shamelessly at the erotic act occurring on the other side of the glass. “I was about to move on.”

  “Liar.” His tone was warm, taking the sting out of the word. Impossibly, then, he moved in closer. She could all but feel the rub of his jeans against the bare skin of her legs. She should have worn leather pants, or, at the least, tights. Against her ear, he whispered, “You want to watch every moment. That’s why you’re here.”

  “Yes,” she finally admitted. Master Theodore and his submissive wife Susanna were in the observation room. She was naked, on her knees, gazing up adoringly at him. Her breasts, with their hard, beautiful nipples were cupped in her palms, as if she were offering them, and herself, to her Dom.

  About once a month, the couple opened their spectacular English country home to like-minded people. Attendance was by invitation only. Fortunately, one of the men who worked in her office, Darius, had been taken to the Waters’ Estate by his Domme, Jennifer.

  Tantalised, Marnie had spent half a year badgering him with questions and begging for an invitation. Last month he and his Domme had come through, and she’d been allowed in as their guest. She’d met several of their friends, and she’d seen Master Zachary interact with a submissive, but Marnie hadn’t really gotten a chance to explore. This month, however, she was here on her own.

  She’d love to be one of the people observed, instead of just the voyeur. But she knew that was impossible. She lacked the confidence, and, well, frankly, disliked her body. Despite eating more lettuce than a rabbit, consuming enough carrots to turn orange, forgoing enough chocolate to send Switzerland into bankruptcy, and sweating at the gym three times a week, she had bulges and ripples where they should never be.

  “Marnie, isn’t it?”

  Her heart skipped a beat, then slammed the next dozen together. “How do you know my name?”

  “I make it my business to know all of Susanna and Theodore’s guests, particularly the unescorted submissives. Very unusual.”

  She smiled, but it felt fragile. Had he known she’d watched his scenes? “I’m more of a voyeur, as you’ve ascertained. I’m not much of a submissive.” But if she were, it would be with this man. He didn’t need a set of weights. He was just simply blessed by the gods with a body that wouldn’t quit. No way in hell would he be seeing hers without clothes.

  “You’re not much of a submissive?” he repeated. Was that disbelief that dripped from his voice? “This entire night is dedicated to dominance and submission. And you haven’t moved from this place for at least ten minutes.”

  “Ah…I find it interesting. A curiosity.”

  “Are you wet, Marnie?”

  She blushed scarlet. She was glad he couldn’t see her, and that she couldn’t see him.

  “Marnie? I asked you a question. Is your pussy wet?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Tell me.”

  “Yes, I’m wet.” But it had nothing to do with the forceful way he held her. Or at least that’s what she told herself.

  “So you can be honest,” he said. “Why do you hedge, I wonder? What are you afraid of?”

  “I run an accounting firm. I deal with government regulations all day long. Nothing scares me.” She tried for an air of lightness she didn’t really feel.

  “The things I’ve seen would scare a stone statue.”

  She believed him. She knew of his reputation as a fearless leader in battle; she’d heard rumours of a woman he’d rescued from behind enemy lines.

  He eased himself a bit closer, and she felt his warmth, his strength. Okay, so she was a liar. She was afraid of something. Him.

  In front of them, Master Theodore took a bit gag down from the wall. The beautiful woman continued to stare at him, and without being told, opened her mouth. He placed the gag between her teeth, checked it for fit, then buckled the strap tightly behind her head.

  At the sight of Susanna’s compliance, a bizarre buzzing seemed to sound in Marnie’s ears.

  “Describe the scene to me.”

  It wasn’t a suggestion or a request. Instead, his words were an order. Zachary Denning was a man accustomed to being obeyed. The problem was, until now, even though she had her private daydreams, she wasn’t a woman accustomed to being told what to do.

  “I’m waiting.”

  Her fingers tightened on the stem of the glass she held.

  Despite her embarrassment and the rush of nervousness, she began, “Master Theodore is helping Susanna to stand.” She took a steadying breath. “She’s moving to the centre of the room where there’s a table. It appears to be a massage table.” She could hardly believe she was doing this.

  “Keep going,” he encouraged.

  “She’s bending at the waist, and lying across a table. He’s securing her wrists to straps that are fastened to the far end of the table.”

  “So she can’t move?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “She’s helpless? So he can do whatever he wants to her?”

  “Yes.” This time, her voice was even softer.

  “And since she’s gagged, she can’t say anything. She can’t ask for mercy. She can’t protest. She can’t beg him to stop.”

  Marnie couldn’t answer.

  “Do you wonder what it might be like to be in there? To b
e completely helpless to your Master’s whims? To have others watching you?”

  Her mouth was dry. She took a sip of the martini and tried to pretend her hand wasn’t shaking. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

  “I will have to beat that out of you.”

  “What?” Her breath froze in her lungs.

  “Your propensity to lie,” he explained. “I won’t tolerate it.”

  If he hadn’t been holding her, she’d have run. “I’m not a—”

  “Your mouth says one thing.” He cut her off. “But your body says another. You’re trembling. You’re curious. And both of us know you haven’t told me to go to hell.”

  Why hadn’t she?

  She tried again to turn, but again he was unyielding.

  “Put down your drink,” he said.

  He moved with her as she leant forward and placed it on the window ledge.

  Marnie told herself she wasn’t submissive. It just made more sense to put down the glass rather than risk a second spill.

  “I want your legs shoulder-width apart.”

  Like Susanna’s were.

  She couldn’t do this.

  “Now, Marnie.”

  Reluctantly, she obeyed, terribly aware of how short her skirt was.

  While they watched, Master Theodore slid his hand between Susanna’s legs. The woman arched her back, as if silently asking for more.

  “Tell me what’s happening.”

  “Master Theodore seems to be stroking Susanna’s…” She trailed off. “Her clit.”

  “And does she seem to be enjoying it?”

  “Very much.” As much as possible, Susanna seemed to be begging for her Master’s touch. Marnie couldn’t help but picture herself in Susanna’s place, with Zachary’s strong fingers parting her labia.

  Master Theodore moved away. Susanna’s hips swayed side to side gently and invitingly.

  “What is Theodore doing?” Zach asked.

  “Oh. Ah…” Her eyes widened. “He’s getting a butt plug.”

  “How often do you wear a butt plug?”

  “Me?” Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t.”

  “Never?”

  “Never,” she reaffirmed.

  “We’ll correct that.”

  Could she drown in her own mortification?

  As they watched, Master Zachary squirted lube onto the egg-shaped piece of heavy-duty steel. Then he very deliberately walked to the far end of the table and crouched in front of Susanna, showing his submissive the plug.

  She turned her head to the side so she could pretend it didn’t exist.

  Master Theodore smiled, seeming to stare straight at Zachary and Marnie. Impossible, she knew. You could see into the observation room, but not out.

  “Are you wearing knickers?” Master Zachary asked.

  What? The man, with his constant changes of conversation and intimate questions, made her head spin. “Yes. Bikini briefs.”

  “Take them off.”

  She could refuse. As he’d already pointed out, she could tell him to go to hell. She could insist she wasn’t a submissive. She could run and hide like her rational mind told her to. But something darker and deeper yearned for something more.

  Master Theodore walked behind Susanna. He gave her a sharp slap on her right buttock.

  Marnie gasped.

  In the observation room, Susanna didn’t squirm away from the nasty looking plug. Instead, she arched her back and rose onto her tiptoes, offering her arse to her Master.

  Marnie reacted to the sight.

  “You want to know what it’s like,” he whispered against her ear. “You want to know what it’s like to have your Master pushing something inside you while others watch.”

  Yes. Yes. She wanted to surrender, too. She wanted this kind of relationship, maybe without the same kind of intensity.

  She was honest enough with herself to realise she’d come back here tonight, even without an escort, for a reason. She was fascinated, and somewhat frightened of that fascination.

  She’d secretly hoped to find someone to push her beyond her boundaries.

  “You want to know what you’re missing. So find out. Remove your knickers.”

  While he continued to hold her, his grip on her firm, she reached under her skirt and removed her knickers, stepping out of them.

  “Good girl.”

  Those two words sent a shock wave through her. Who could have imagined she’d react so strongly to his approval? She crouched and snagged the black cotton knickers from the floor.

  “I’ll take those.”

  She hesitated for only a moment. Did he have any idea what size they were? With an embarrassed sigh, she wadded the cotton into a little ball and offered it to him.

  “Definitely wet,” he said, shoving the knickers in his back pocket. “Surprising for a non-submissive.”

  She felt exposed and naked, wanting something she didn’t dare name.

  In the observation room in front of them, Susanna squirmed as Master Theodore pressed the cold plug to her anal whorl. He delivered another sharp smack, and she stilled.

  In the glass, Marie could see the reflection of Zachary standing behind her. It was unsettling, not being able to meet his eyes. Unsettling and thrilling.

  Master Theodore pushed the plug part way in his lover’s arse, then he pulled it out again. Susanna turned her head from side to side.

  “I’m not sure she likes it.” Marnie squeezed her own arse cheeks together in mute sympathy. In the observation rooms, she rarely saw anal play. She’d seen plenty of bondage and rope play, a few beatings, even some nipple torture. When a Master required a sub to wear a plug, it was often in place before the scene was opened to viewing. Watching this alternately repulsed and fascinated.

  “What’s he doing now?”

  “Pushing it partway in, then pulling it out.”

  “Fucking her.”

  “Fucking her,” she repeated. “It has to hurt.”

  “It can. Certainly it can be uncomfortable. But there are ways to make it tolerable, even enjoyable. For Susanna, a lot of her pleasure comes from the fact that having a huge piece of steel up her arse appeals to her Master.”

  “She does it because it pleases him?”

  “The dichotomy of Dominance and submission. She truly gets pleasure from his joy.”

  As they watched, Master Theodore stroked his fingers down his lover’s spine. She rose up a bit higher, emphasising the sexy length of her calf muscles, then she turned her toes inward a bit.

  Master Theodore bit the side of her neck. As she tried to escape, he took advantage of her distraction and sank the plug all the way in.

  “Just so you know, when you take a plug, you’ll do it with a bit less fuss.”

  The idea terrified her. Her mouth dried. “I…I need to be going.”

  He loosened his hold. She wasn’t quite sure how to react. Slowly, she turned to face him.

  “You still haven’t told me to go to hell.”

  Oh God, oh God. No, she hadn’t told him to go to hell. Suddenly, she knew she wasn’t going to.

  His eyes were deep and vibrant. She’d seen that colour once before on a holiday in the Austrian Alps. The glacial lake had been deep, clear, crystal blue. She was as startled now as she had been then.

  His hair, military short, emphasised the strength of his facial structure. His jaw was square and firm.

  A small scar bisected his right eyebrow. Another cut a jagged line across his right cheek, descending to nick his upper lip.

  Tiny grooves were carved next to his mesmerising eyes. He’d seen more of life than she ever would, and it gave him an air of confidence, of mastery. And she was ensnared in it, by it. She wanted him. “I’m not a sub,” she whispered, wondering whether she tried to convince him, or herself.

  “I see.”

  “I’m not.”

  Neither of them moved.

  Then he put a hand into her hair. She’d pinned it up before leavin
g her flat, and she’d secured it with a pair of beautifully carved wooden sticks. Now, he’d dislodged it, making a mess of her updo. He pulled back a bit on her hair. She was forced to meet his gaze. He was relentless, but the pressure wasn’t painful. Earlier, he hadn’t let her look at him, now this demand was every bit as difficult to meet.

  “If you were honest, Marnie, what would you tell me right this moment? I don’t want to hear what your uptight upbringing tells you to say. I want you to forget about what you think polite society would approve of.”

  She had no choice. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t hide. “If I were honest, I’d tell you that…”

  He waited. He was utterly patient. He never tried to hurry her along.

  She tried again, “If I were honest, I’d tell you I don’t want to go home alone. I’d tell you I’m curious; scared, but curious. I’d tell you I have fantasies. I’d admit I did come here this month for a reason. I’m a voyeur. But part of me wants to be a participant. And I’d have to tell you that I have some hang-ups about my appearance.”

  “If I were honest,” he said, “I’d tell you I’m intrigued. I’d say I think your body is curvy and sexy and that you’re right, you have hang-ups, that others don’t see you the way you see you. I’d also let you know it’s been years since I’ve played with someone as innocent as you are.” He smiled. “And I’d tell you I want to be the one to corrupt you. And I’d tell you I want to yank that skirt out of the way and fuck you up against the wall.”

  “Oh.” My. She glanced away, but with sustained pressure against her skull, he compelled her to look at him again. “I may be curious, but I’m not a sub.”

  “So you insist.”

  That odd little shiver skipped through her again. “I don’t want to be tied up while you shove something up my arse.”

  “No?”

  “Not at all.” Unblinkingly, she met his gaze.

  “I don’t want you tied up while I shove something up your arse.”

  “Oh. Well then. We’re in agreement.”

  “I want you tied by my will while I shove something up your arse.”