Maggie was lost in the pounding beat of drum solo. She was
back stage at Faction’s Austin concert watch Jake Jennings pound out his third
drum solo of the night. Sweat dripped off every inch of his muscular body. She
saw each of his sculpted, massive arm muscles bulge and contract as they
pounded a fast, hard rhythm that defined Faction’s hard core sound.
Around his biceps, Maggie was surprised to see her arm
cuffs. Created especially for Jacob, she thought of the metal cuffs as bed sport
tools. She was worried to see them on here. The pain had to be constant. His
performance sure wasn’t suffering. In fact it was better than any of the past
shows she’d seen.
The lights went dark. When the lights came up Maggie was
gone. She would see Jake tomorrow. She was pleased to see him so happy. She
would enjoy pleasing him tomorrow night.
“Let’s go,” Jake yelled at his band mates. “I am so ready
for my D&D time. You fuckwads are cutting into my me time.”
“You won’t need a whip boy, I am about to give you my fist.”
Jake yelled from the bathroom as he pulled on his shirt.
“We all want the Desire pussy. Jake you just need to calm it
down. Maeve won’t even have to touch you before all that special sauce you’ve
saved for her goes running down your leg,” Dylan ribbed Jake.
“How ya know it’s special?” Bryce chortled. “Is it tasty to
Dylan?”
“Fuck ya’ll,” Dylan said giving Bryce the two-bird special
as he got in the limo to head to Desire.
Everyone laughed, but each member of Faction loved Desire.
Their fantasies weren’t tame. Desire had even fueled whole new fantasies since
Jack had first took them five years ago. Tonight Jake seemed the one ready to
burst. His favorite Dom called Desire home, and he was ready for a session.
Hell he had been born ready.
Backstage in her own dressing room. Maggie was transforming
herself into Maeve. Mistress Maeve was an Amazon warrior who took no shit off
anyone. She was 5‘9 before her four inch kick-ass boots. Tonight Maggie’s short
hair was covered with Maeve’s shoulder link blue-black hair that sported
liberal deep cherry stripes. Pulled in a teased knot on the top of her head,
her hair flowed in a warrior mane behind her. The two silver spikes were her
favorite pricking probes for the disobedient. Her statuesque frame was captured
in a tight leather harness that held loops and holders for 7 whips, four
probes, and six leather restraints – she was better equipped than Batman. Her
tight leather pants displayed a muscled ass and sculpted legs. Her boots laced
up the back of her calves and she looked like the bad ass she was. There was
only minimal make-up on her beautiful face as she placed a half-mask on her
face that covered her small, pert nose. The mask hooded her ice blue eyes and accentuated
her strong chin and defined cheeks. Her thick, sensual lips were lined, painted
red and sealed in a wet gloss that made her mouth the focal point of her face.
Transformed, she used the back hallway to the private room
where the show was in progress. She stepped on the stage as the fans were
closing. In the next instance Maeve stepped out flicking her whip and was the
first to step forward for the lap dance.
Three foot from Jacob, her whip smacked again. Jake was up
and in the next switch it wrapped around his forearm and he was at her feet.
Using her whip, she circled him, Striking close and far, using a predatory
stride as she swirled him. Adding the electric pulse to the whip tip and she
could see his shudder of anticipation as the whip danced closer to his skin.
With a flick of her crop and a push of his chest he was flat on the floor. She
stood over him, foot on his chest. Her
ass moved in time with the music as her whip circled her head. Jake shuddered
and hardened, waiting for the blow. In a crescendo of movement, her whip tapped
and touched leaving light marks. Then darker marks, ending with five lashes
leaving welts across his chest.
Without a word, she turned, and strode from the room, knowing
Jake followed.