Ashen Master 1
Ashen Master 1
Sex Story Author: | Payne_Hall |
Sex Story Excerpt: | Like her, my moral compass did not point north and I had evidently already set my eyes on something I |
Sex Story Category: | BDSM |
Sex Story Tags: | BDSM, Discipline, Fiction, Male/Female, Romance, Slavery, Spanking, Toys |
Ash
My life was singularly the greatest life ever fathomed, for two reasons. One, I was dead inside, the events of my childhood leaving me a hollow shell of a person. I was delightfully, wonderfully empty, devoid of pain, sorrow, love, rage, and the entire rest of the spectrum.
Two, I owned and lived in a fetish club. My small apartment resided in the back of a place called Sulfur’s, where all manner of debauchery and sinful gluttony took place. My bed was a monster fetish bed, complete with a cage beneath it. I didn’t just play in the world of domination and submission. I lived it. I had my own private dungeon adjacent to my bedroom adjacent to my playground and even when I took a break from working in the midst of the night, I could still hear the lustful house music pulsing through the walls, driving the blood in my veins that never reacted to anything else. I ruled that world, teaching safety courses on play styles, driving the fringe edges happily.
You see, I was the perfect dominant, the perfect master, because of the very fact that I was forever cold inside. My patience was never ending and I adored to teach, loved to train. But this wouldn’t be a very good story if I had been allowed to stay like that, would it? My life would have stayed that perfect cold emptiness where I reigned like a god and a king. I had started branching my business out, building night clubs and dance clubs. I was always horny and never went home alone.
But maybe you’ve guessed already what happens next. Maybe you already know that life doesn’t stay that clean, that perfect, even for someone like me who had perfect control over everything including my life, submissives, and slaves in training. Control was my drug.
And then one night, my world went upside down. I’ll give you one guess what sentence comes next. It’s three words.
I met her.
————
It was an open door night. Now sometimes my brother would come and play at the club because he kind of owned it with me. He didn’t own it so much anymore because he was getting married and his interest had only ever been mostly capital to begin with. So he’d given me full reign lately because he just didn’t have the time anymore and we both knew I was more than ready to deal with the stress and decisions now. But sometimes he still played. Not on open door nights, though, because he hated those.
They were when I let people in to try to find outsiders who might like to become full time membership card owners. You see, when I kept things mostly exclusive, people could play harder and darker kinks on private nights. But that meant I had to let people come and play on light nights to get to know them. And I loved those nights. Sure, I had to watch everything for safety and heavily monitor the private rooms, but it was worth it. There was usually more people, more lust, more fun. Even more enjoyable was the fact that there was also this air of shyness on these nights. Newbies would play with their clothes on, light exhibition displays to test the waters. It made me glad to see it, happy that people felt safe enough to try out their curiosities in my safe haven.
So when I saw her dead in the center of my open play area, wearing absolutely nothing except for a sash that read “birthday girl”, I stopped dead in my tracks. Newbie shyness? Not with her. She was manacled by light chains hanging from the ceiling and her dom paced around her with a light whip, flicking her tits to make her squeal. His name was Matt and he was one of my regular players.
He gave me a look that said he was having the time of his life. And then he lifted an eyebrow and gestured with another look that blatantly said, “Hey, want to play?”
Fuck me, but I definitely did. She had this beautiful sheet of straight ice blonde hair and these eyes that looked at me with excited fear when Matt noticed me. She wanted more fun and I wanted to give that. So this wasn’t even a closed scene. This girl was open for more people.
Even Deirdre hadn’t been so bold when she first stepped foot through my doors. Even she had tested the waters first. This girl was a wild flame of pure recklessness and delight.
Matt grinned at me when I stepped to her side and pinched her nipples so that she cried out. “Oh, please! Please!”
He laughed. “It’s her 21st birthday so she just made your cut to walk through your doors.”
I smiled at her. “Barely legal and oh, so bold.” I slapped her tits, one time each, then pinched a few of the stripes Matt had already left on her thighs. He was a fun loving Dom, a light player who just enjoyed a one night stand every now and again.
“Oh, god…” She was whining beneath my touch, arching desperately for more. Oh, she was nothing at all like any other submissive who came to bow to me. Those loved to please, craved to serve my needs. This one thrust her hips in shameless chase of her own pleasure, untrained and wild in my hands.
Matt held out the whip and I took it with a laugh, swinging it up against her pussy so that she shrieked and jumped. She thrashed in her manacles so that I had to force her back to position with my arm around her. “She’s not a very still little thing, is she?” I said it conversationally and she closed her eyes, moaning to my objectification, shrieking when I flicked the whip against her pussy again. God, she had even left that bared and offered for use and play. I took advantage. If she wanted it tormented, I would certainly oblige.
Matt grinned and drove his fingers into the same pussy I had just hurt. Her cry rose in both volume and desperate sexuality so that we both laughed at her. “Definitely not. She’s untrained and greedy as fuck, but she’s a horny little birthday slut, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yes, sir.” She answered it breathlessly, needy for pleasure.
And that’s when I saw it, the thing that would damn me. “Look at me,” I said sharply, slapping her cheek to get her attention. Matt seemed to notice the change in my voice and tilted his head curiously, but I ignored him for a second, my focus on her. She stared at me with those sexy, desperate eyes, trembling and so very horny. And I held her by her hair and flipped the whip in my hand to tease her dripping cunt with the handle so that she tossed in my grip, her eyes rolling with wild pleasure.
And I saw it again. It was something that should have made me angry, something that was drama on a night when no one wanted any goddamned drama. “You bad, wicked little fuck.” But my voice wasn’t angry, not at all. The words came out amused from me, actually, because she put me in a little bit of a predicament.
You see, there were certain rules and protocols at Sulfur’s. As you can imagine, alcohol was a highly restricted thing. I controlled it with hand stamps and paper bracelets. Once someone started drinking they got one of each and couldn’t actively play anymore, but they could stay around all they pleased and be a voyeur because everyone got off on that. And it was actually really rare that I had people try to cheat and drink more, but when they did my bartender had a long enough memory to recognize them.
But oh, my little birthday demoness hadn’t tried to get away with alcohol. No, she was high as a kite on something that I felt pretty sure was on the line of harder drugs. I shook her by her hair. “You had to sign a fucking agreement to get in my door, girl.”
She stared at me, her playtime fun interrupted by my change of pace. I kept myself quiet though. No one needed to know about this conversation, mostly because I wanted to handle this one for myself. “What do you-?”
“Do not play the stupid card with me.” I stared into her eyes, holding her still. God, if I was smart I would send her on her way home and not consider her for a card to get in later. Ivory would kill me if he knew the thoughts I was having, what I was going to do. We had both agreed that drugs were a no-go when we wanted to allow harder fetishes. It wasn’t fucking safe and it fucked up the entire atmosphere. No one liked it or wanted it.
Evidently I wasn’t being smart tonight. No, I was being impulsive. How interesting.
She shivered when I stroked her pussy with the whip handle again, thinking and fantasizing. I didn’t want to make her leave, you see. I wanted to bring her to heel. “Don’t tell on me. Please? I’ve dreamed about this place for months and months. Please?”
I grinned at Matt. “Don’t tell on her, she says.”
He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Damn it. And that was fun too. Do I need to do anything?”
“No, you’re fine.” I looked at the girl in my arms. “Say goodbye, birthday girl.”
“Wait! But I-“
Matt cut her off that time. “He’s the owner, love. Whatever you did, you’ve already told on yourself.”
Poor Matt. I felt a little bad. He didn’t care enough to ask what was up because he fucking hated drama. So if I said that I would handle it, he was more than happy to leave her in my hands because he knew she’d be safe there. That’s why he only took light one night play stands and why he didn’t go overly hardcore, either. It wasn’t his thing, which made me sad I might mess up his night. “Sorry.” But then I brightened. I could fix it though and I rather liked fixing things. “But oh, Deirdre is upstairs and she has her cat stuff.”
He brightened and grinned. “See you around.” For his little birthday playmate, he wryly shook his head. “Good luck, bad girl.”
Easy. Awesome. Little drama and no one around really knew anything was up. It was just her and I and she looked up at me, her high fucked up with this turn of events. “Please. I’m sorry. Please don’t make me leave.”
I considered her, undoing her chains and letting her wrists down. “What are you on?”
She swallowed. “Ecstasy and Adderall.”
I winced. Great. Drug cocktail. “Clever combination, I’ll give you that. Ecstasy for the pleasure, but focused with the Adderall so you can better hide it. I almost didn’t even notice it and that’s no light playtime drugs either.”
“I gave it some thought. I didn’t want red eyes from the Vicodin or THC and I couldn’t just do the E because it makes you scatterbrained and- I should shut up and stop talking now.”
Dear lord, she was a chatterbox on the stuff and I just let her keep talking in amazement while she damned herself. “Realized what you were saying a bit too late, did you? So it wasn’t spur of the moment at the door and was thought out. That’s good to know.” Yeah, I wasn’t going to go easy on her. But God, she was a delight in this weird, deranged way. She swallowed and tried to bite her tongue while I considered my options. “Let’s see. Not just breaking my rules, but apparently you were so very eager to get in my door and yet, you wanted to be greedy on your birthday, wanted to have your cake and eat it too. What a bad fucking girl you are.”
She winced. “Please. Please, this is everything I’ve ever wanted in my life. This is amazing.”
By then I had pulled her to the side and I lifted my eyebrow. “If it’s so fucking amazing, then why did you have to enhance it with your drugs? Why not come in sober to enjoy the entire experience for what it is? And did you really just decide to walk into a den of doms and sadists and think you’d play with one while hiding drug use? How arrogant do you have to be?”
She would have been sobbing if the Ecstasy wasn’t obviously giving her a fun time. It was clear that she looked somewhere close to wanting to panic. “I didn’t think about it! I’m sorry, I really am. It just sounded good and those two together feels good and I wanted to be here and it was my birthday and-“
I held up my hand because she was working herself up. “Hush. You’ll find it’s hard to move me to anger. Alright. I believe you.” And I did actually. That level of recklessness and spontaneity made perfect sense with what I had seen of her so far. Such delicious abandon she had. Somehow, her drug abuse fit with those qualities I admired most in her. She was a wild little bundle of energy, her eyes vibrant even if they were glassy at the moment. Now that I thought about it, it made perfect sense that she would have zero control. I didn’t know her but suddenly I was very interested in knowing her. Such a brazen little creature. How wonderful would all that impulse be when it was trained to submit? I had found that the most wonderful slaves were the ones who were filled with emotion and rash behaviors.
She was more of those things than I had ever seen in anyone else. She was practically made to be a slave. I knew that from the very beginning, sensed it from that icy place inside of me where I controlled and dominated. There was this cold freezer place inside my mind where I naturally existed when I topped or trained. It was like a cool mountaintop where I observed every little detail in the world around me without ever letting it touch me.
That cold place had never been so strong than the way it was when I looked into her eyes, drug addled though they were. Perhaps that’s why I responded the way I did. Because for the first time, I responded on an impulse and did something so very unsafe.
“Let’s see. I’ll make a little deal with you, one you don’t deserve. I’m feeling generous tonight, however.”
She swallowed, staring up at me fearfully. Her eyes were a gray that was hilarious because they were a contradiction. It was such a dull color even while they shone with so much glittering, rainbow emotion. “What kind of deal?” She finally asked it softly, still naked except for her sash.
I smiled. “Ask me to punish you for being such an impulsive, selfish girl. And if you do, I’ll not only allow you to come back. I’ll give you a probationary membership card as a potential eventual vetted player. But you have to ask for it like a good girl and be sure to let me know how bad you feel and how sorry you are. If you can convince me, maybe I’ll accept and you can earn back a second chance.”
God, Ivory would have fucking murdered me. But I had to make it a really good offer for her, one she wouldn’t resist, because, you see, I really wanted to feel her body shaking beneath my hands while I taught her what real discipline felt like.
————
Jezebel
I stared up at him, working through the offer in my head, even though it was all pretense. Sulfur’s was everything I had dreamed it would be for months, since I first heard of it and been so upset to discover that I couldn’t get in until I was 21.
The drugs had been a dumb idea, I’ll admit it. But it was my birthday and Ecstasy felt so freaking good. I really had to learn to stop keeping drugs around all the time. My self control was shit so when I had them just laying in the bathroom, I took them out of boredom.
But the only thing tripping me up was the fact that this man scared me. I had chosen a light play dom for my birthday because that was my go-to type. I liked to submit… kind of. Okay, I didn’t know if that was true because I had never actually submitted, if I was being honest. The light doms were always so easy to manipulate for me. I had this youthful appearance and I’d perfected things like my makeup to be baby pink and doll-like so that when I gave my top a doe eyed glance, I could always guarantee a good few orgasms out of the playtime. They pet me and teased me and flirted with me and I could wrap them around my finger and pretend like I was submitting without actually giving up control.
The owner of Sulfur’s had such a cold gaze in such a controlled way that I doubted my sweetheart eyes would do a thing to help me. “Um. What- what kind of punishment… s-sir?” Manners. Manners were good in a place like Sulfur’s.
He lifted an eyebrow, watching me thoughtfully where I sat, still naked before him save for my sparkly birthday sash. “So manipulatively polite. And it’s a fetish club, bad girl, so I’m sure you can use your imagination and think in the right direction.”
I shivered. His voice was hard and unforgiving, like his eyes. It screamed of cold control so strong and intense that my body couldn’t help but react. I had an attraction to people who displayed self-discipline because I had none of it in my life. None at all. It was kind of a nightmare sometimes but it was also kind of fun. So while I was attracted to those qualities, I also carefully avoided them. I was scared of real submission and how it would make me feel, scared of feeling something that might be too real.
But I really wanted to stay in Sulfur’s. His deal was impossible to pass up.
“Well? I’m waiting. Is my offer kind enough or are you going to leave? My patience is long, but not endless.”
I flinched and then decided to try my sweet doe eyes. I looked up at him with my most pathetic ones, blinking just the right amount. “Please don’t be too mean. Please?”
Wrong. Fucking. Idea. He answered by grasping my chin in a grip like iron and I instantly went wet between my legs just to feel it. I lifted up to him, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that I was a submissive female and he was a dominant male who was so beyond my usual sphere that he shattered my kinky radar. I liked to think of it as my dom compass because doms always had little tells that let you know what they were. For instance, they would stare at a potential playmate and finger their belt or let their eyes linger on her throat when she didn’t have a collar. It was hard for me to get interested in anyone unless that radar went off, unless I was on drugs or they were enough of a toxic asshole to let me pretend. The owner of Sulfur’s so dominated, though, that he felt more like a god of the bdsm world. He took my flirty little compass and threw it disdainfully against the wall to shatter it.
I trembled in his grasp, shook. “If you tell me what to do again or try to manipulate me with those Bambi eyes one more time, I will escort you out myself. One fucking chance, girl, and don’t play with me again. As it is, you don’t seem at all repentant. I suggest you try if you’re so desperate to be here.”
He wasn’t mean but he was so hard. Like stone. And he was unfeeling too. There was nothing that suggested humanity in him and that’s what scared me most of all. But even while it frightened me, my body turned so aroused and needy because here was someone who could handle me, someone who wouldn’t let me get away with these rule breaks. Everyone else did, literally everyone, and here finally was someone who might be able to calm my hellish existence. That’s what my body reacted to anyway.
My mind wanted nothing to do with him and his stunning control. My mind wanted to continue having my Hunter S. Thompson fun until the LSD took effect outside of Las Vegas.
But I really wanted to stay in that club too. I really wanted that card he offered. So I swallowed and gathered my courage and tried to keep my doe expressions out of the apology. “Please, I’m sorry I disrespected you and broke your rules and caused you drama during a play night. I’m sorry for ruining a scene and that I potentially ruined my playmate’s night. Please, please punish me to teach me and let me have another chance.”
His gaze cleared of its mild irritation, though it was still like granite. “Bloody hell, girl. That was fascinatingly good.”
I shrugged and looked down. “Adderall does make me focus well and I do know how to play. I know the rules.”
He laughed. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. With your sweet little girl voice and your polite manners. No, I don’t doubt at all that you know how to play with light little doms and how to manipulate them for a one night stand to give you orgasms like someone wanting candy. But those are ones like Matt who just want a fun time and don’t want anything deeper, who never actually demand any real power exchange.” He caught my chin again and forced me to look at him. The look in his eyes made me shiver with fear running up my spine. “You look at me when I’m talking to you, girl. You see, I think you’ll find me a little less open to being manipulated. So let’s see how you fare with some real discipline lessons. If you can survive, you’ll earn a play card. I would love to punish you, wicked kotyonok. Come on.”
I followed, feeling like a scared little fool. God, it was only supposed to be a party night for a party girl. I wasn’t as bad as my flower child days where I had done a lot of LSD and hopped on trains across states out of curiosity a couple summers ago and I had thought that was something.
He made me feel like I still had a long way to go and that made me shiver. I had never been so self conscious about my distant ways.
————
“What are you going to do to me?” He led me through a back door in the upstairs of the club and I had been mortified to realize he lived in that place. God, I had fantasized about getting in the door for months, longed for it, and he lived there and never had to go home. With the sudden jealousy came a spout of drug fueled excitement, where I’d told him he was lucky and it was amazing and I wished I never had to go home. And then I’d stopped when I saw his expression, so vaguely amused and patient while I rambled on.
Every step after that had made me more and more afraid. When he opened the door to his back office, I realized there were toys even back here and they weren’t the beginners’ toys that were allowed on open door nights like that night. Canes and full whips and all manner of hard play implements lined the walls.
This was his motherfucking office. I swallowed at the knowledge, watching his steps. I walked sporadically, in nervous skips, while his walk was even, calm. Jesus. Holy Jesus. I was so far out of my league it was insanity.
Alright. You can do this. It’s just one time and he’s not that bad. Just don’t look at his eyes too much. But of course after I thought it, I couldn’t look at anything but his eyes. They were like shards of the most calming ice, soothing me and my wild edges. Even the drugs had started to become boring in my life lately, the ups and downs of serotonin use and depletion from Ecstasy becoming so predictable after I took it once a week. But those eyes… Like soothing stars. They reminded me of pictures of space, how vast and empty it looked.
“Are you even fucking listening to me?”
Shit. “I’m sorry.” His eyes narrowed and I shivered. “I’m really sorry, honest. I was just thinking that I’m scared and I shouldn’t look at you too much but looking at you calms me down so I can’t stop and I really am sorry.”
His mouth relaxed. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something else to calm me. “Take your sash off and bend over the desk. You’ll work yourself up imagining things if I let you get that far.”
I obeyed, shaking again at the strict note in his voice. He wasn’t anything like my fun, playful dom who hadn’t taken a lot of control at all. That dom hadn’t even insisted on things like honorifics, had just wanted to lightly play. No, this man’s very voice and every mannerism demanded I call him “sir”, even while he made me shy to say that word, made me scared to draw his attention to me at all.
He was entrancing though, impossible for me to ignore. He wasn’t even an overly large person or anything like that, but his sheer self possession and exacting command was the real giant part of him. I trembled when he got a bottle of something that looked kind of like lubricant and a paddle. “Oh, God…”
“Hush.” It quieted me, that voice, and I finally closed my eyes to just let it glide over me, to feel the comfort of obedience. And it was a comfort, to be directed, to feel like I was under some kind of structure when my life continually spiraled out of my control. There had never been any structure at all in being a wealthy orphan with a trust fund. No, I was blatantly a spoiled brat who was also too smart for my own damn good sometimes. When I opened my eyes again, I felt a little more secure, a lot more collected.
Just pretend like it’s a game.
But almost immediately my mind retaliated, This doesn’t feel anything like a game.
No, this felt real. This felt like I’d trespassed against a king of some kind by playing games and was going to pay for it. My thoughts shut up as soon as he turned back to me, everything going so still it stunned me. My body waited for his orders and command and my mind followed suit, going peaceful.
I loved it.
His eyes softened at whatever he saw in my face and he came back from the filing cabinet with a stapled couple of papers, flipping to one page in particular. When he set it down in front of me, I whimpered. It was the agreement I had to sign to walk into his play bar.
My heart thundered even while my mind was still blank and blissfully quiet for once in my life and I jumped when I felt him stroke my ass, rubbing whatever was in that lubricant bottle into my flesh with a medical glove on his hand. It was cool at first, soothing, and his petting was even, circular motions. I sank into that touch, gasping when he finished off his strokes with four slaps, one to each asscheek and one to each thigh.
By the time he walked to the trash can, threw away his glove, and came back, I realized what he’d rubbed into my skin. Well, I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I knew what it did. The burn from
his slaps sang into my flesh and the oil he used ensured the burn went on… and on. I glanced at the paddle and had to look back to his eyes to calm myself because it had holes in it and it was long and thin, hard finished wood. He met my gaze for a moment, holding it, and then pointed to a sentence on the page.
And by that time I had a feeling I knew what that sentence would read, where this was going. This is a lot less fun than Secretary made it seem. No, the oil wasn’t in that movie and this man was pure iron control that didn’t allow for any reprieve or argument. There wasn’t a touch of lust in his gaze, not that I could see, and that’s what made it all the more humiliating and terrible. Because I was dripping, my sex swollen with need, and I could feel the amount of cum between my legs. Surely he would notice with those eyes that had noticed my drug use even though I had hidden it really well. There was no way he wouldn’t be able to tell.
If he did, he didn’t address it at first. I couldn’t decide if that was worse or not because there was no heat at all in his voice. He was perfectly collected and I was laid absolutely bare. “Spread your legs wider and read that sentence.”
I obeyed him almost automatically and I was somewhere far away from my body, in a kind of shock that I would find myself here and with this man. God, his voice was merciless. It was terrible.
It was amazing. Peace flooded through me along with the fear and a hot throbbing desire somewhere deep in my being. “There is no playing under the influence at- oh, my God!” The paddle strike shocked me with how badly it bloody well hurt. My body jarred forward with the force he could put behind it and the oil burned into my flesh, searing it. I mouth the words “oh, my God” again into my arm, even while I curled my hands into fists and tried to think.
“We’ll be here all night if you can’t even finish the sentence. I suggest you give it another shot and try harder.”
I looked back to the paper almost eagerly, dying for more and dreading it all at once. It hurt, yes, but it was so much control and my body was heating to a wildfire desire as if it knew without thinking that I was on a one way track to hell and this was the kind of discipline that I needed. Pleasure flamed from it. “There is no playing under the influ-ence! At Sulfur’s! Oh, please!” The cracks were so loud that they commanded my attention, just like he commanded it. My usually sporadic mind couldn’t even think over the sound of them. He had all of my attention.
“Again,” he said softly.
I snorted through my nose, my pussy quivering in need, and I was suddenly insanely aware of the absence of sensation on my sex. “There is no playing under the influence at Sulfur’s.” I had to gasp through it, the paddle crack in the middle that time. My flesh burned and I closed my eyes, not even reading anymore, just saying the words by rote. “There is no playing under the influence at Sulfur’s.” God, yes, this was what I craved. It was as if some void in my soul had been filled and I could be safe. “There is no playing under the influence at Sulfur’s.” The crack took my breath away and I had to refocus, taking some discipline from his iron control, loving him for it. He had so much and I had none but he was kind enough to let me borrow it, to teach me this feeling. “There is no playing under the influence at Sulfur’s.”
“Ah, you like this. Your ass is lifting back in anticipation for every paddle strike and your little cunt is dripping on my floor.” I said the words he’d given me in breathless reply and took the paddling with it. “You’ll have to clean that up with your tongue when we’re done.” I said the words again, closing my eyes, burning alive. Peace, calm, stillness. Hot, flaming arousal. I said the words again and he chuckled. “God, it’s like a transformation.” He wasn’t wrong and I said the sentence, moaning with the next crack. “Now, let’s see what we’ve taught you. What’s something we don’t do at Sulfur’s, little birthday girl?”
Fuck me, I knew the answer was only allowed to be what he’d given me. For the briefest moment my bratty personality wanted to say something different but for the first time in my life, I was too scared. “There is no playing under the influence at Sulfur’s.”
“There’s a good girl.” I clenched my fists and unclenched them for some kind, any kind, of outlet for my arousal, desperate as it was. “And your pussy might be so very horny and needy, so red and swollen and in pain, but I tend to think that all that painful need will only serve as a better reminder for you to exercise better discipline in the future. I might be wrong, though. What do you think?”
I closed my eyes, knowing the answer and thinking that it was evil of him to ask it like that. It was a lot harder to not deviate from the only sentence I was allowed to say and beg for his mercy, for an orgasm. This desire hurt on a deeper level than sexual need usually did. This was a kind that was fiendish for more release and more of his safe, wonderful discipline. I swallowed, thinking that there was no way he would give me that release after what I had done and begging him for it would only make things worse. I had to force the words out with a soft whimper, miserably saying it. “There is no playing under the influence at Sulfur’s.”
The paddle crack was sharp and I felt my legs shake, closed my eyes in defeated submission. I was forced to admit that if he didn’t want me to cum, then I wouldn’t. He had me under absolute power and I didn’t want to leave it. I kind of wished I never had to leave it and its safety.
“Good girl. Maybe I was wrong. That took some restraint to give me a proper answer.”
Dare I hope? “Th-there is no playing under the influence at Sulfur’s?”
He chuckled, amused, and paddled me again. “There isn’t. Now, when I give you an introductory card, what’s something you aren’t going to do?”
That shred of hope for some release from the wildfire he’d started with this act that made me feel so fucking safe made me squeal the words eagerly. “There is no playing under the influence at Sulfur’s!”
“That’s right.” The paddle cracked me harder than any of the other times and my ass felt like it was in flames from the oil searing it. It felt like I should be bleeding, though there wasn’t any trickling. “You’re going to be a good girl and not make me regret this. And what’s something that good girls don’t do?”
I shouted the sentence out, realizing there were tears on the tip of my nose. “I’m sorry! I’m really, really sorry!” I broke, finally, and sobbed full on tears onto the paper and his desk, whimpering in pathetic sadness that I had caused drama and messed up someone’s fun, kinky night. It was hard for me to feel empathy, but this man shoved my face in it like I was an errant dog, made me face it, and suddenly I could and absolutely did feel bad. The dom hadn’t deserved my bullshit when I got caught, had only been interested in a fun night.
The tears poured down and there was a soft sound behind me and then I squealed, feeling two of his fingers penetrate me. “What are you- wait, I- Oh!” He twisted his hand and I whimpered, pleasure assaulting me.
“I have always thought that the sweetest little slaves come from the most uninhibited, emotionally capable little submissives. I wonder what you would be like with a little collar, kneeling and eager to serve once you’ve been trained.” The thought placed the image in my head of me at his knees in that office, naked and without a shred of reserve or embarrassment, waiting for him to use me at his pleasure.
Arousal shot through my body, coursed through my veins like so much spiky poison. It was something so much more dangerous and intoxicating than the drugs. “Ah, you like that idea.” I couldn’t hide it, not when I was drenching and pulsing around his fingers, my sex dying for him to continue talking and taunting. And yet he merely stroked his fingers inside of me. Where other doms had spanked me to work me up for a wild fuck, he was nothing like that. He left me to hump his fingers, left me pushing back against the desk, while he was so unaffected and detached. “You like that idea so much you’re close to coming for me.” He was right. The blood was starting to roar in my ears and the flames of punishment on my ass were making me wild. “This gives us a problem together. I have a general rule of training and playing that suffering, disobedient girls are never allowed orgasm.”
He pulled away and I sobbed miserably, but I didn’t fight because there was still the terrible guilt he’d forced me to feel. “Please. Please.” I mewled it against the desk, wondering if he would give me any kind of release at all or at least give me more pain to make this feel better.
“Exceptions to my rules cost you something, Pet. I do make them, but you’ll have to make a deal with the devil, so to speak.” I looked up at him, sniffling, pathetic, humiliated. God, I was on Ecstasy and my emotions were still a mess. They were all over the place, a whirlwind inside of me.
His eyes anchored me enough to let me speak and think a little more clearly. “What do you mean?”
He stroked my hair, the paddle laid to the side, and his eyes were stern amusement. Still like ice, still like protective stone that could keep me safe from even myself. “Well, this was all so you could earn an introductory card. I can make you cum, make you scream so loud it’ll hurt your fucking throat, but if I do then it will cost you, say, five more punishments. Just so I can be sure I get my message across, you understand.”
“F-five?”
That cool amusement deepened. “Five. I think a week, less a day, worth of punishment with orgasms will make up for one without.”
Five. With. Orgasms. Five more where I could see those safe eyes and feel his control, borrow it for just a little while. “Yes, please, sir! Please!”
He laughed. “I had a feeling you might agree that to be fair.” I didn’t care about his softly mocking voice, didn’t care that I had agreed to five more days of pain, didn’t care about anything besides getting his fingers or anything else back inside of me. I whimpered when he lifted the paddle instead and held it in front of my face. “Now, show me how grateful you are for my lesson. Kiss my paddle.”
God. Every degradation was another flame, another spark on an already insane bonfire. “Yes, sir.” I obeyed because I wanted these wild things. They somehow felt restrained even while they fed my need for depravity and dark intensity.
“Good girl. Now thank me for your punishment. Be a polite, good little submissive for me.”
I moaned, arching on his table. “Thank you for my punishment, sir.” My voice was breathy and didn’t even sound like myself. No, this girl sounded sweet and happy rather than giddy and insane.
“Very pretty. See how good you can be with some discipline? Let’s see how five more days will do you.”
He didn’t give me his fingers back. He used the paddle handle instead and I choked, clinging to his desk with my nails clawed into the hardwood like a lioness in a frenzy. I squealed when he filled me with the handle, sobbing and whining for more. I was facing a transparent chest of dildos and forced to acknowledge that this was on purpose. Fucking me with the object of my punishment was another lesson, a harsh one.
And I didn’t care. No, I lifted on the table, my world narrowed down to one concern and that was finishing this, finding my release. He held me still with one hand on my lower back and pumped me so hard and fast that I could hear the filthy sound of all the cum I had dripped. And I would love to say that it was the sex that threw me over, but it wasn’t. It was the fact that he was barely even touching me. He stood distant from me and when I looked up at him, he watched with a deliberately dispassionate gaze, as if completely unaffected.
It was the fact that while he pumped me and watched with that gaze, he finally lifted an eyebrow and softly said, “Go on. Take what you need like a good little slut.”
I squealed to the sound of that voice, so cruelly cold and calm while I fell apart, the orgasm so dark and from a deeper place than any other orgasm I’d ever had. I had never felt so safe to let go, had never felt like such a plaything under such controlled hands.
It terrified me how much I loved it, scared the hell out of me. And I had agreed to five more days of it.
He pulled away when I was still trembling, only to lift me by my hair and hold the paddle handle to my lips. “Open up and clean this.” Obediently I did, still high from that intense pleasure, loving every filthy word, delighted by the fact that I was licking my own mess off the toy that had punished me. He frowned while he watched me and pulled the paddle handle away for a moment before he lifted me to stand straight in front of him, his hand still in my hair. “I said to clean it. Open up and suck, girl.” I moaned and obeyed again, but this time he took over, thrusting the handle between my lips while I closed my eyes and tried to not climb towards orgasm again. His facefucking was brutal, tickling my throat so that I choked and whined, but he made me take it, twisting it so that it was licked clean. “That’s how you clean my toys off. Now, let’s try the floor, kotik, and this time if I see any cum left on it, we’ll start it all over again without the orgasm, until you get it right.”
I dropped to my hands and knees and licked while he placed one of his Harley Davidson boots on my neck and made me bow lower.
And even after all that? He still wasn’t done. “Now, place your hands on the back of your neck, spread you legs like a horny little bitch in heat, and stay on your hands and knees in the fucking floor until I come back and get you.” And he left me just like that, placing the tear stained entry agreement beside me so that I could see that sentence for the next thirty minutes of time out.
There is no playing under the influence at Sulfur’s.
————
Ash
Jesus, mother of fucking Mary.
That place inside of me where everything was icy and sterile, where I noticed everything as if I were standing on a mountaintop? That beautiful place that was where I had been made to rule from?
It was a hundred times more with her beneath me. I don’t know why. Maybe it was because she was so obviously out of control, so clearly craving it. But it was something almost transcendent in nature with her bowed in front of me and bent for punishment. I had always felt a moment of connection with my partners because in that special clarity, I felt almost godlike, like I could see everything about them, notice every muscle tension and expression.
With her? It was like being connected on the deepest possible level. I just knew everything to say and do. I knew without considering it that I had to be cold and distant and have complete control to earn her submission. However badly I craved to fuck her, I couldn’t do it and somehow, in that state, my discipline and self possession had been something that made even me amazed. It had been impossibly easy to ignore my raging hard on. I had always been good, but no one was that good. No one could be near that heady, intoxicating scent that she gave when she was dripping cum and not struggle for a brief moment to keep a sense of restraint. No one.
And yet I had been that good. It had been something surreal, like a Chinese finger trap. However hard she pulled at my self control was as hard as it pulled back. Her temptation made me all the stronger with every breath I took of that delicious, hot scent of her.
God, the cream she had dripped. The only thing missing when she’d been bowed beneath my boot was a belt wrapped around her neck for me to pull and torment her with. I would have tugged on it while holding her down just to feel the power rush up my arm, feel the tension up my muscles, and feel that magical knowledge when I saw her back arch in panic that let me know I had to give slack.
And when I was away from her, I didn’t even jerk off. Don’t get me wrong, my body craved the release, but I didn’t want to break her spell. Denial had never been my thing, but this feeling of powerful rush was the most exquisite hell. From the first taste of her humiliating service, I was hooked. She was the one who had been on drugs, but it was almost like she had given them to me instead. I burned for her, had to have her.
How to approach that topic with her? That brief insight and connection, as deep as it was, gave me a decent bit of knowledge. She was a wild little thing, flighty as all hell too, and obviously without many moral boundaries that most people had if she was indulging in drug use of that caliber. But more to the point she was without inhibition, a sexual creature who indulged in hedonistic behaviors, and she was a joy of emotional range.
Those were all delightful qualities in a slave and I hadn’t met someone who had them in such full nature as she did. She would be something exceptional after a month of conditioning.
You, Ash, are getting way the fuck ahead of yourself.
God, was I ever. I sounded like a narcissist, taking her as a foregone conclusion. I stopped and blinked, realizing that while I was lost in my thoughts, my steps had taken me to my own private dungeon, the one I so rarely used. I had shaped it with the intention of training a real slave sometime, as a room of pleasure conditioning, a Master’s room. I traced my hands over the locks and sighed. “Well, fuck.”
Because I realized that I’d already made up my mind, even by that point. You see, I had never really gotten to use my dungeon for its original intention. I had never gotten to have my true slave. It had taken a few years before I realized that my training dungeon fantasies might not be something I could make into reality.
That same cold place that made me the perfect master? It was the same place that ensured I couldn’t get close enough to someone to enslave them. Submissives I had been with wanted more, but I didn’t have that kind of more to give. There was no depth beneath my surface. There was only more mastery and more dominance, more of that perfect ice.
And sometime when I had her under my paddle in that light little punishment session, I had made a decision.
I was going to have my fantasy and she was the slave who was going to star in it.
To read the rest of this story, you need to support us, over on Patreon, for as little as £1.99
Join here: patreon.com/FantasyFiction_FF
Rate this story
Average Rating: 0 (0 votes)