A/N: Thank you for checking out my newest story! Coming Attractions is about the D/S relationship between Edward and Bella that takes them both by surprise, developing into more than either one imagined. I hope you enjoy! Warning to readers this story is mature content dealing with BDSM.
Thanks for reading. Please leave me a review at the end!
The girl for tonight looks nervous. I believe it will be her first live performance. I've seen her here many times, in the audience watching with unwavering eyes. I was surprised to see her name on the schedule, though I'm not sure why. After belonging to this theater for almost six years I would have thought nothing could shock me.
This building is a safe place. Every participant knows the rules and has something precious to lose, which prevents their tongues from flapping recklessly among nonmembers. I myself have my professional reputation to consider. I don't feel as though what I do here is shameful, but most of society would beg to differ. Though I do not regularly partake in the lifestyle outside these walls I find myself drawn here every Friday and Saturday, like moth to flame… a thirsty man to a desert oasis.
I cannot satisfy my cravings in any other way, God knows I've tried. I do not have a submissive outside this building. I have no desire to control another person's day to day life, what they eat, how often they exercise, who they converse with outside my home. I do not want to have a slave. My hungers do not include dictating the life of another human being. But there is something about… obedience. The thrill of knowing a woman will not move a muscle unless I give the command. That is what I crave. Dominance and power over her; knowing that she is aching to submit as much as I ache to command her. The rush of adrenaline from playing her body like a beautiful instrument. Making her body react in ways she didn't know possible. I have found nothing else in this world as satisfying.
My peers in this community do not always understand my desire to keep playtime separate from my normal life. I see it as just that- playtime. My life outside this theater is boorishly vanilla and I prefer it that way. Though my inherent nature draws me back each week, unable to resist the sights and sounds of a woman laid bare before me; anticipating my expertise in eliciting a pleasure so grand few are brave enough to seek it out.
Tonight should be like any other. I shall instruct my spectators on the finesse required to provide extreme pleasure from light bondage. This new submissive in my performance should be a refreshing change for my regulars. I see many familiar faces in the dimly lit audience. This theater, Coming Attractions, is discreetly located behind my cousin's boutique. It's an eHarmony of sorts for those of us in the BDSM population of Port Angeles, Washington. People come here on weekends to explore the lifestyle, meet others interested in finding partners, or simply to enjoy a night out where they don't have to hide the side of themselves they typically keep locked away. I enjoy the mingling, I have many close friends here, but my greatest thrill is to perform scenes for the others.
I set up my table slowly, allowing the other doms, and doms-in-training to see the meticulous details I consider that make me known in this community as the best. I check the legs of the table, ensuring there isn't the slightest wobble which would cause my new guest to feel insecure as I restrict her arms and legs from movement. My iPod is docked and ready to go on the playlist I have selected for this specific performance. Classical music is my typical choice; tonight will require slow, relaxing selections. Judging by the nervous expression of the new submissive, I might have been better prepared in queuing up something meditative. I lay out the toys I will use in tonight's performance and excuse myself backstage to my waiting submissive.
It is quite clear she needs a pep talk before we go on together. I've never had a sub safe word on stage and I'll be damned if it happens tonight of all nights.
"Excuse me, miss?" I ask to get her attention. She is wearing a long silk robe and pacing nervously back and forth. Not a promising sign. The girl looks up and smiles, though she is blushing and still looks uncertain.
"Yes?" she answers weakly.
"You are Isabella, are you not?" I ask gently. She nods. "I understand you signed up a few weeks ago to join me on stage tonight. I need to make sure you understand what we will be doing and that you have no second thoughts. We always have understudies available, you see, in case any of our new guests decide last minute they are not ready to perform."
She seems irritated that I doubt her and shakes her head adamantly. "No sir, I want this."
I eye her suspiciously for another moment and then signal for her to follow me into the dressing room with my name on the door. I sit on the leather sofa against one wall and take a bottle of water from the side table. Unscrewing the cap I watch as Isabella glances around the room at the décor.
"Disrobe please," I say evenly and then take a drink.
"Now?" she questions. I sigh. I was testing her.
"There are twenty seven people out there who will be seeing your body from every angle in less than ten minutes. If you cannot show yourself to me how can I trust you will do so in front of all of them?" I explain, not unkindly.
She considers my logic for a moment and then reaches in front of her torso to loosen the belt of the robe she is wearing. The silk gracefully floats to the floor behind her and the girl stands ramrod straight in front of me, her eyes focused on my forehead it seems. Her body is not displeasing. It is actually quite a refreshing sight. Her breasts are natural, her skin milky white and flawless. Her pussy bare as the day she was born. She is slender but not too thin. Her nipples are hard and there is a pink flushing in her cheeks. I find it endearing.
"Please, Isabella. Focus your eyes on the floor and interlock your fingers behind your back," I instruct.
She does as I ask. Her list of limits is on my dressing table so I stand to retrieve them, wanting to make sure my plan for our performance is in line with her comfort level.
"I see this list of your limits was submitted to Mr. Jenks on the 3rd. Is this the most up to date version?"
"Very well. And it appears you've had two Dom's in your past. The most recent being… last name Banner. I believe I know him," I say chuckling. "A bit old for you but I can assume he taught you properly."
I lay down the papers and circle her body a few times. As I pause directly in front of the girl she inhales a deep breath and lets it out slowly. I brush her mahogany hair away from her face and lift her chin to my eye line.
"May I touch you, Isabella?" I ask.
"Yes, Sir," she responds. Her tone alerts me that she is unsure of what I am going to do so I explain.
"To have chemistry on stage we need to acquaint ourselves with one another. I want to see how you prefer being touched."
I trace my index finger lightly down her neck and over her breast. Tugging on her pert nipple I glance to her face to gauge her response. "Too hard?" I ask.
"No, Sir," she breathes.
"Harder, then?" I tug again with more pinch, pulling her breast further into the space between our bodies.
She moans and says, "That feels good, Sir."
I smile and release her nipple. My fingertips glide over her stomach and hip, around to her ass, as I walk to stand behind her. I rub my hand over her delicate skin in circles, fighting the urge to give a generous swat to her backside. There will be no punishment in tonight's scene and better to not make her afraid of receiving one.
"Spread your legs for me, dear," I whisper. She complies immediately separating her feet about twelve inches apart. I position her arms at her sides.
I remove my shirt quietly and press my body against her back as my left hand grasps her left breast. She gasps in surprise but makes no movement. Very good. I'm aware my breath is falling on her neck and shoulder as my hand massages her supple breast and I press my growing erection against the curve of her ass. My right hand slowly ghosts down the length of her right arm and comes to rest just below her navel.
"Are you okay, Isabella?"
I hear her swallow and she replies, "Yes, Sir."
"What color?" I ask.
My right hand begins to descend to the soft mound of her sex. I kiss and suckle her neck as my middle finger slips between her wet folds and she moans very softly. I discover she is very wet as my finger slides effortlessly from her clit to her vagina. Surprisingly wet for how nervous I believed her to be earlier. I withdraw both my hands and adjust the bulge in my jeans.
"I believe we will work very well together, Isabella," I say, turning her shoulders gently so that she is facing me once again. "If you are ready please dress and meet Rosalie outside behind the curtain. She'll tell you what to do from there. Do you have any questions? Speak freely."
"No questions, Sir. I've been looking forward to this for a long time."
I smirk. "Very well. I look forward to our scene too."
I leave her alone in the room to go briefly speak with Rosalie about last minute preparations. It seems Isabella is more eager for a session with me than I anticipated. I find myself oddly intrigued by her soft curves, the gentleness in her voice, and her courage to scene in front of a room full of strangers.
"You ready, Edward?" Rosalie asks me.
"Yes," I reply as Isabella emerges from my dressing room. She walks over to my cousin and me, a brave smile on her face.
Rosalie stands behind the girl and wraps her long delicate hair into a pony tail to keep it out of the way. I move to lean against the side wall as Rosalie gives Isabella her final few instructions.
"Okay, sweetie. The stage is dark. You'll walk right out this way until you feel a mat under your feet. Kneel on it in your waiting position and keep your eyes focused on the floor. Then just follow Edward's instructions, understand?"
"Yes, Rosalie. Thank you," she replies sweetly.
Rosalie removes the robe from around the girl's shoulders and gives her a gentle nudge through the opening in the curtains.
"Tell me, Edward. Why do all our new performers always request to scene with you?" Rosalie whispers.
I smile widely at my cousin giving her no answer. Rosalie considers it a great crime against humanity that our mothers are sisters. Otherwise she would have seen to it long ago to answer that question herself. I simply turn towards the curtain and give her a parting wink.
It's show time.
The stage is as dark as the audience. The only light in the room is the glow from the Exit sign in the back corner and the backlight on my iPod. I press the play button and the soft music fills the room. As my eyes adjust to the darkness I can see tonight's submissive properly positioned on the yoga mat in the middle of the stage. Her posture is good and she remains incredibly still, her head down.
Some of the other members who do scenes at this theater converse with the audience but I prefer not to acknowledge them. It heightens my excitement to be watched, obviously, feeling liberated and comfortable embracing this part of who I am. For me it also has something to do with ego. Exhibiting to the others how I'm able to make a woman beg for my cock and scream out for more during orgasm. But I still view the scene as a cherished exchange between the woman and myself. I choose not to sully our time together with questions or commentary from the audience.
Therefore, I give no introductions and simply begin the performance with my first instructions to the new woman I am joined with on stage. My hand finds the dimmer switch on the table and turns the overhead lights to about half power.
"Please stand, Isabella," I begin.
She wobbles a little as she follows my command, likely from a loss of blood in her legs due to the kneeling. I take her hand and walk her to the table I've prepared. Her eyes are wide and she is blushing again. I see her scanning the darkness in the audience trying to make out their faces.
"Don't look at them, look at me," I instruct under my breath. She seems to calm down as her focus returns to me.
"Stand at the edge of the table. You are to be completely silent until I say otherwise with the exception of your safe words."
The soft rope I plan to use is on the table so I retrieve it and come to stand directly in front of her. The table is stationed parallel to the audience giving them a profile view. I hold the rope up for the submissive to see as I start unraveling it. To begin, the rope is draped around her neck and I ensure the lengths are even. Three knots are tied down her chest and the remaining length is passed between the legs and looped under the piece at the back of her neck. I'm careful so that the rope is tight enough that it doesn't slack but not so tight that it will leave marks. Each half of the rope is then brought forward and looped in and out of the knots down her chest so that a crisscross pattern is formed around the breasts and across the stomach. The loose ends are tied in the front at her waist. I check her body carefully and judge her expression before moving on. She seems curious.
She looks stunning bound this way and I'm eager to move on to the restraints. I take the girl's hand and help her lay back onto the table. I position her hands over her head and swiftly tie another length of the same rope around her wrists and secure them to the metal hook at the head of the table. I ask her to test the restraints so she is aware of what I have done. I find it arousing to see her struggle to move. I love how the muscles in her forearm tense as she fights against the rope.
Loud enough for those watching to hear I say, "Are you feeling alright, Isabella? Say yes or no."
"Yes," she replies too eagerly and I have to suppress a smile. So excited and we've only just begun.
I leave her legs unbound but position them open on the edge of the table. My cock hardens at the sight of her bare pussy spread out for me and I want badly to press my face against it. Instead, I rub my erection until it is slightly more comfortable and refocus my attentions on the task at hand- making Isabella scream out in pleasure under my hand. I select a flogger from the side table and without warning give her inner thigh a playful tap.
She gasps in surprise. I was certain she would slip up and make a noise from the unexpected strike to her thigh.
"Quiet, Isabella. You have not been permitted to speak," I say sternly.
My hand trails the end of the flogger along the inside of one leg down to her ankle and then back up the other. I gently shake the leather tassels over her mound a few times and then strike again; hitting her clit with the same force I'd given her thigh. This time the girl makes no sound but needs to bite her lower lip to control herself.
"Very good, Isabella," I say soothingly.
Another hit to her pussy and I move north. I trail the flogger up her torso and hit each breast twice, harder than she expects. She shuts her eyes tightly and arches her back, silently seeking more. Happy to oblige I pull two nipple clamps from my jeans pocket and show them to her. The expression on her face tells me she is excited. She is doing very well so far and I tell her so. My fingers roughly pinch each nipple into a taut point before attaching the clamps. She winces momentarily as her body adjusts to the light pinching.
"You're breasts are so beautiful, Isabella," I say as my hands begin massaging her soft flesh.
I allow my hands the freedom to caress her milky skin but not touch her clamped nipples. Her breasts really are quite remarkable, each the perfect size for my large hands. Picking up the flogger again I softy tap each nipple. Back and forth I alternate hits to the side swells of her breasts gradually increasing the intensity.
"You may respond audibly now, Isabella. But do not come until I give permission," I instruct deciding she has been quiet long enough. I want to hear what kinds of sounds escape her lips.
Immediately she moans, arching her back again, seeking the soft tassels of my flogger.
"I think you like this toy, Isabella," I tease. "Yes or no?"
"Yes, Sir," she responds enthusiastically.
I'm ready to move on and decide to incorporate the flogger in the next part of our scene. I stand at her head where she can see me clearly and lower the zipper of my jeans. I slid them off completely so I am standing in front of her wearing nothing but black boxer briefs, my hardened cock prominently displayed under the thin layer of cotton. Her cheeks flush a lovely pink and she squirms in her restraints. I take the glass dildo from the side table and the flogger and walk down to her waiting pussy.
I spread her legs farther apart and quickly slip the dildo into her vagina about halfway, pull it out, and then plunge it in as far as her body allows.
"Ahhhhugh," she moans. It's a lovely sound.
I swat her clit with the flogger held in my other hand and then resume fucking her with the dildo. Another throaty moan and I repeat my ministrations several more times. She continues to whimper and it appears she's getting close to climaxing.
"Don't you fucking come until I say so, Isabella."
Her gyrations cease and I can see the girl is trying to control herself. She breathes in and out slowly and I time the movements of the dildo to the rise and fall of her chest. I'm finished with the flogger and so carefully drop it to the floor. I bring her to the brink once more using my finger on her clit and the toy inside her. She moans again, the same ragged expression overcomes her face.
"You may come at will now, dear," I say gently.
My fingers fall away from her soft folds and are replaced by my tongue. I am kneeling on a padded stool kept under the table putting me at the precise height needed for my face to comfortably make contact with her sopping wet pussy. I resume fucking her with the glass dildo and suck her clit between my lips.
"Oooh. Gahhh! Shit!" she cries.
"Tell me what you need, Isabella," I say darkly. I'm purposely holding off her orgasm, having slowed the rhythm of the toy inside her.
"Please. Please. More. More."
"Do you like being fucked by my toys, dear?" I ask, encouraging her to keep talking.
"God, yes. Fuck me! Please fuck me, Sir!"
I cannot resist her pleas any longer and bury my face in her pussy; licking up her wetness and driving the dildo into her over and over until she cries out in bliss. I feel her body strain against the ropes and she lifts her hips to meet my tongue and hand. She screams through her release and then falls limp against the table. Her breathing is labored and erratic. I retract the toy and place tender kisses along the inside of her thighs until she has somewhat regained her composure.
My dick is hard as a rock after witnessing her come so magnificently. I run my hands all over her body as I loosen the ropes and remove them. Gently the clamps are removed from her sensitive nipples. I purposely leave the binding holding her wrists together in place and help her sit up, facing our silent spectators.
"You have done very well, Isabella. I am pleased."
After everything I'd just done to her body the girl still blushes in response to my words.
"Would you like to thank me?" I ask as I stoke my erect cock through its cotton confines.
"Yes, Sir," she replies.
I help her down from the table and signal for her to kneel once again on the yoga mat. My fingers slide under the hem of my boxers and I bring them down to mid thigh. The girl's eyes are locked on my cock. She leans in to take me into her mouth before I even give the command. Her mouth is soft and warm and I audibly groan as my cock hits the back of her throat. She doesn't gag and I realize I can fuck her mouth the way I desire most. My hands carefully grip the sides of her head and I thrust my cock down her throat repeatedly. Still no complaints from Isabella who seems to be enjoying herself, judging by the soft moans escaping the corners of her mouth.
I feel my orgasm approaching and allow myself more verbal responses to show the submissive how she is making my body react. I think about the expression on her face as she came moments ago, and the way her body looked tied by my ropes. And I think about how we are not alone, but being watched closely by twenty seven men and women who consider our sexual act a form of art.
My groaning alerts Isabella that I am about to come and I withdrawal from her perfect mouth in time to release my cum all over her breasts. She pushes her breasts forward, offering them to me. My eyes shut reflexively as I ejaculate with such force it takes my breath away. I take a moment to regain a little strength before helping the girl to stand. I untangle her hands from the restraints and look at her forearms and wrists for red marks. There are some light impressions from the rope but nothing severe. She smiles up at me and I pull my boxers back into place.
As always at the end of a scene, I take the girl's hands in mine and lean forward to place a kiss on each cheek, whispering "thank you, my dear," in her ear. On cue, Rosalie darkens the stage once more and Isabella and I exit through the curtains.