Ashen Master 2

Jezebel

After he used my name, I thought it was all over with, and it left me so frazzled that I spoke without thinking, asking him questions like that about his past because it felt like something had definitely happened there. The more I learned about him, the more it seemed clear that he was capable extreme violence. Strangely, I couldn’t say that I had any fear of that violence. Whatever it was, I knew that he wouldn’t ever truly hurt me. He was too steady, too calm. Even when his crop felt like it was too much, it never was. He was perfect like that and he looked at me with possession, not murderous intent. I had played with some shady people before, too, when I needed to satisfy my dom compass somehow and didn’t want real control, so I knew dangerous violence and he wasn’t it. I knew that without even thinking about it.

But I was still curious. What kind of lines had he crossed? What kind of violence had he done, and why? What would drive him to it? I wasn’t sure what made me think that he had been driven to do something terrible, except to say that he had this air of confidence when talking about it that seemed to speak of experience.

But he left after the movie we watched and I sank against the door, breathing a kind of strangely disappointed relief. He had replaced all thoughts of my drugs lately, fueling me with a kind of continual fear and adrenaline. Each time I toyed with him and teased him felt like another time when he might just decide he tired of waiting for me to give in. It made me flinch to remember calling myself his slave to his face. 

And yet, I had lain in bed after the night with Deirdre and Lily, and thought that it was wrong for me to have gotten pleasure. That had felt like the most strangely perverse bit of everything that had happened. I had dreams that night of his watching the two of them until they left, and then using my mouth for his release while I was left horny at his knees, eager for more, and pleased to have his approval and the taste of his cum.

God, what was happening to me? I was in a constant state of arousal and even though I was masturbating more than ever, I felt less satisfaction from doing it, too. My whole body felt like it itched for his dominance, for just one aggressive curl of his fingers around my throat, for one more flick of his crop to command me to be still and stand straight for his viewing pleasure. But he wasn’t giving me any of that at all now. He was letting me tease him while taking my own release from his touch, and that was driving me even crazier.

I thought about the night he held me and forced me to look at his dungeon door in silence. He hadn’t said a word, and there was nothing but pure menace and threat in his hold. I had merely trembled with my ass up, my face held low, looking at that door and knowing what it was. He hadn’t even needed to clarify. I knew with every fiber of my being what lay behind that door.

Why wasn’t I going to him now? He was right. What did I have to lose by giving him just a month? I was bored as all bloody fuck when I wasn’t flirting or playing with him. He was my only friend and I was even running out of books to read. So why not just kneel and say okay to that one month? I wouldn’t be bored anymore and I could lose myself to him.

But I needed it to be a struggle. I didn’t know why that was the case, only knew that it was probably fucked up, and that I definitely didn’t care. His force would be something to make me feel all the safer. On some basic level it felt like proof he could take care of me, that if he had the strength to subdue me, then that meant he was capable in some way. I knew animals acted that way, specifically predators. They instinctively had to be forced because force was indicative of better hunters. It didn’t make sense for humans though, unless Norman was onto something with some of his theologies, with the thought that some instincts came from hunter-and-gatherer days, and that humans were the most basically violent of any other predator.

I turned all of those thoughts over in my head while I went to the bathroom, going through the mental possibilities, thinking of him and buried instincts. The only thing that mildly kept the arousal at bay anymore was taking a bath, and these weird mental logical trails, but even they were turning purely sexual in nature. Even so, I tried because I was kind of going insane, kind of dreaming about him every night now.

I got my toothbrush and lifted my head to the mirror, only to try to scream.

The creature behind me cut me off before I could, clasping one hand over my mouth, while the other arm wrapped around me with a wiry strength that I knew well. And then I got even more terrified than before, when I realized what was happening.

God, it was him but he was wearing a demon mask, a terrifying fitted skull shape with curling horns above his head. And what was more, he wasn’t in a cock cage anymore. No, he was hard as hell against my ass, and I bucked back against that length with a groan behind his hand, even when every instinct told me that this was my last chance to run. If I didn’t want to end up on my knees in that dungeon, if I didn’t want to lose the entirety of my freedom by the end of the night, then this was it. But I only started to fight after I arched back to his length and felt how large he was.

And then I struggled, horny and frantic and needy in his arms. I wasn’t thinking at all, which was amazing to me. God, no, I was all need, all feeling, even when I rammed my elbow back against him. But that only resulted in his grabbing my arm and pulling it across my chest in punishment. If I managed to even hurt him at all, he didn’t show a thing or make a sound, but of course he wouldn’t. His control was so perfect that he had worn a cock cage for weeks now, without letting me see a bit of his denial pain, until he wished to let me know. Everything was always, perfectly, on his terms and this was no different. 

He chuckled in my ear and grappled with me, cooing with little shushing sounds, as if trying to ease the fear of a small animal that didn’t know what was happening was for its own good. “That’s enough, lovely girl. Was this your Hannibal Lecter fantasy all along? Was this how you needed to feel your V for Vendetta desire come alive, your Phantom of the Opera romanticizing made real?” I moaned when all of my secret daydreams came back at me, but of course, they had never been so secret had they? I had teasingly shown or referenced all of them to him. I couldn’t look away from that mask in the mirror, from how he looked at me with such possessive violence in his gaze. God, my pussy was drenched, hotter and wetter than it had ever been. “Fuck, I can smell you, kotik.”

He laughed when I struggled all the harder, a dark sound, and I whimpered behind his palm, which he took from my mouth. “Going to scream out?”

But he already knew the answer that. No, I never was. I had only been about to scream out of a jump scare, and I would never scream for help now that I knew it was him. That sense of endangerment grew even more terrible and I grappled against his touch, while he lightly forced me to my small college apartment bedroom. He tore at my yoga shorts, shoving me back so that I fell on the bed, and he tugged them down. He got one leg free before I recovered and tried to kick him, but he caught that easily, laughing, and all he’d needed was one leg free anyway. He was so slight, but his strength was pure anyway, and he was so exact, composed, while my struggles were panicked flailing.

But I did find one opening. He reached for my hand to turn me on my stomach on the bed, and I shoved, hard enough to break his grip on my waist. I ran for the door, kicking off the yoga shorts, and reached it right as he reached me. And that time, he locked one hand around my throat and used the other to shove two fingers into my pussy, letting me have my hands free.

I didn’t do a thing with them. We moaned together, his a deep growl and mine an animalistic gasp of sex. I fell to my knees on the floor and he followed, shoving me forward and thrusting those fingers so that I obeyed his touch with a soft cry. “That’s it. That’s enough fighting. I was going to use this hot little pussy, lovely, but now that you made me work so hard for our first time, I think I’m going to make it a nice, hard anal raping instead.” He undid his jeans just enough to free his cock, and I had to bite my wrist to keep from screaming with the pleasure when he pressed inside of my pussy. Just as quickly he was gone, only using it to lubricate himself with the cum I poured for him.

I clawed at the scratchy carpet when he pressed into my asshole instead, burying my face into it when cold sweat broke over my body from the sweetest pain. But he wasn’t having it. He hissed and pulled me up with a fist in my hair instead. “No, you watch in the mirror when I have you. Watch yourself when you submit.” Obediently, I did, staring into the mirror on the back of the door, whimpering at the sight of him in the theatrical mask. He looked down at me, watching his cock press inside of me centimeter by centimeter, watching my pain at the pure debasement of it. His lips parted with a heated pleasure at how it must have looked, and I…

I crouched low, arching so that he could have me better, lifting so that he could use me harder and feel me in more pain for him. The sight of his desire, of his pleasure made me mentally soar and that sweet, searing pressure only threw me higher, as if I had been tethered to a wire. He had left my shirt on and I scrabbled suddenly, because that was wrong and I knew it. He was the Master who could wear clothes when he wanted, while I was supposed to be naked in front of him. 

“Good girl,” he whispered in approval when I yanked the rest of my clothes off, and freed my breasts for him to see. His gaze went to them in the mirror, momentarily distracted from the image of my asshole being stretched around him. He was hurting me and it was the most wonderful thing I’d ever felt. I pulsed around his dick, quivering around him in such a way that even I was aware it was happening. “Cup your tits and punish your nipples for me. When you feel pain, your asshole squeezes on me and you want to give me more pleasure, don’t you?”

I wanted that more than I’d ever wanted anything. His patient teacher’s voice made me love him even now, even if it meant my pain. And I was happy to obey that because somehow the more pain it caused me to please him, the more satisfying it felt to do so, too. So I cinched my nipples, crying out with how hard I hurt myself, and his eyes lit with a dark light. “What do you say for the chance to please me?”

“Thank you, Master!” It came out of me like a dance I had known my whole life. I knew this. I knew it so fucking easily that it was like breathing for me.

“Such a good girl. You should have behaved sooner, though. Now that I’ve felt this tighter asshole, I won’t want to use anything else for a while when we’re training you in the dungeon. And you do belong in the dungeon with me, don’t you?”

“Oh yes, Master.” I gasped when he thrust the rest of the way into me, and finally my body processed the pain and fullness until all that remained was the sharp edged bliss of pleasing him, of being where I belonged. This had been the right way all along. This had been why it felt so wrong to tease him and leave him unsatisfied, while I took my own orgasms. I cried out when he withdrew and sawed back into me, tumbling even further into subspace, flying so high. I twisted my nipples and thrilled to his pleased grunt in response, looking up at his eyes through the bone white demon mask. I saw him through a haze of desire and groaned when his eyes lifted to meet mine in the mirror. 

He looked like a dark god above me, his hands around my waist. He used his grip to pull me back in a strict, hard rhythm and every surge of him in my asshole made me more aware of every sign of pleasure he gave. I thrust my tits out and the motion drew his gaze, made his eyes darken with his delight in the view. I dipped lower in more submission and he growled a low sound of approval. I stared up and hurt my tits, the way he would if it were his hands instead. Time lifted away into something endless and there was nothing but my bowing, letting him use me. He didn’t speed up, didn’t change his rhythm, instead keeping to his harsh pace, riding me into the floor like I was a little animal.

And I no longer fought him at all, didn’t even so much as beg for an orgasm. No, even that much didn’t feel right with the way he dominated me. If he wanted me to have an orgasm for his pleasure, he would give me one. If he wanted me to have more pain, he would give that too. That latter one was what he decided on, slapping my thighs between his strokes, so that my body tensed and tightened around his fucking. I was torn someplace where I was dying to cum from his treatment, but I also kind of didn’t want him to be nice enough to allow me. Part of me wanted to be left to burn for him when he took me to his dungeon, wanted to know that my Master was sated on my body, and I was the one who had been used.

He hissed a moment later and grabbed my hair, abruptly quickening his pace to something brutal and violent and I pant from the feeling and then I gasped when I felt him go still, moaned when I felt him fill my asshole with his cum. Automatically, from far away, I heard myself say, “Thank you, Master!”

Because he’d filled me and hadn’t given me release and I loved him for it, wanted to bow at his feet in gratitude for it. And he let me do that too. He lifted me to my knees and circled around me, his cock softening slightly from his release. He slapped my cheek gently. “Open up. You clean my cock the same way you clean my fingers and toys.”

I spasmed with bliss and obeyed eagerly, licking his cock in a slutty way, the way I knew he wanted me to. I sucked greedily, cleaning him and making sure to get every inch of him. When I finally pulled away and met his gaze, he had a faint smile and there was a sense of serenity now that the next steps forward were so very clear, and I couldn’t even think of resisting.

I burst into tears instead, wrapped my arm around his calf so that he chuckled and stroked my hair. “Please, love me!”

“Such an emotional little slave. Look at me, Pet.” Obediently I did, looking up while he bent forward to stroke his fingertips across my wet eyes, lifting them so that I could see the tears on them. While I watched, he licked them off and winked. “I already do, and already have.” I went still while he fitted my pink collar on me and this time when he closed it, I bowed my head with the sensation that it wasn’t coming off for a long while.

————

Ash

There was nothing like having her in my dungeon. My blood raced when I unlocked the door and held it open. I stood to the side and made her walk in before me, made her look me in the eyes in acknowledgement of what awaited her. And she did, brave little slave. She looked up, swallowed nervously, and walked through the door so that I followed, locking us both in together.

I wrapped my arms around her while she shivered and took in the sight of the cage in the corner, of the medical table that was centered against one wall with a light that would display her, of the bed that was slightly less of a monstrosity than my own was. She looked around at the implements on the wall, at the suspension hook from the ceiling, at the spanking bench and restraints and harnesses. “This is going to be your home for the next few weeks,” I said softly, and she shivered, but her head fell back against my shoulder. She arched to my touch while I kissed her head and tucked her hair back behind her ears. 

I took my time now that I had her, even though there was a kind of delicious pain in it. My body craved to have her right then, but I forced myself to turn her in my arms, to lift her cute little shirt over her head, unhook her bra. Each motion felt like an eternity, a thought that made me smile. I had to keep track of things like time, but in this windowless place, she would soon lose track of it and everything else, except for the art of pleasure and giving it. The sight of her nipple under my thumb seemed to taunt me with that thought. The sight of my hand sliding down her cute little workout shorts, and cupping her pussy while she lifted with a cry was even more so a tease. I pulled those down and tossed them to the side with the rest of her clothes. “You won’t be needing clothing for a while. I have different clothes for you.”

She stood, shivering with nerves, while I paced away from her to get her wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs. Eventually she’d feel insecure without them, the same way she had once felt insecure without clothes. I had chosen metal for her a while ago, because it was easy to keep clean and multi purpose. Each one would move a little ways on her wrists and ankles, so I could do things like shave her around them, and each one was sturdy. She watched me while I locked them on her, securing her. “I have a lot of rules in this room, but all of them can be summarized into two ideas, Pet. The first is you obey and you show respect. Whatever I want you to take, you take. Whatever I want to fill these holes with, however I want you to serve, you will. Understood?”

She nodded, her eyes wide, and she glanced fearfully at the gleaming silver cuffs on her wrists. I took up the crop since it worked so well and tapped her cheek. “Eyes on me. You’ll have plenty of time to get used to those cuffs, but when I’m speaking and training, you look at me unless I say otherwise. Answer me out loud.”

“Yes, Master.” Her voice was hoarse, afraid, anxious. It was all the delicious things that made me feel my control with every syllable.

“Good girl. The second idea is that everything in this room is for my pleasure and that includes you, your orgasms, everything. When I want you to cum for me, I’ll command you to. Asking for it is a good way to end up with more suffering. If it pleases me, I’ll order it, understood?”

“Yes, Master.”

I smiled. “Good girl. Let’s start with some basics, some things you already know. From now on, now that we have those two things clarified, you’re on your speech restrictions until I say otherwise.” Her eyes went wide and she opened her mouth in a panic, but I clasped my hand over it before she could argue. She whimpered instead and I stroked my thumb over her cheek. “No. Hush. You’ve done this before and it’s no different here. I’ll be displeased if I have to get the gag to reinforce it. Is that really how you want to begin?”

She hesitated, but then shook her head, brow furrowing. But she was calmer and she went still, eyes on me like she knew. “Good girl. Trust me. Now, let’s start nice and easy. Kneel in your slave pose, the way I like. I want to see you that way, with your pretty cuffs and collar in this room.”

Her eyes cleared, which was my intent and goal. I enjoyed her fear, but I wanted her to be nice and cozy in this room, wanted her to feel comfortable. It was a harsh room and she would sleep in chains, would learn to feel safe in them, but the key was that I wanted her to feel at home. I wanted her steadied while she slept in regular penetration and bondage. But we would get there. I’m sure she expected me to use her hard and often as soon as I got her in that room, but training took a priority. I wanted her well disciplined before I took my pleasure, and that meant first thing was first.

I was going to condition her to hunger for cock and cum. I wanted her to crave it even more than orgasms and I had already planned out exactly how I was going to do it. I had already planned out all of her conditioning routines actually, but that was the first one I was going to start with.

But even before that, I paced around her, tapping her thighs with the crop to make her spread wider. I lifted her chin with the slapper so that she had to raise up, snapped it against her tits so that she’d thrust them out. She sank down into the obedience easily when given the security of repetition, the comfort of familiarity.

————

Jezebel

Oh God, he had only just started and I was dying already. Cum ran hot and sticky between my thighs, so that every motion made me more aware of my arousal. It wasn’t just that he had used me so recently. It was also the sheer power and dominance in the way he looked in that room. When he crossed to get the cuffs, my skin turned flush with need. When he commanded me to spread wide for his viewing pleasure, my pussy clenched on air and felt so very empty. I had to work to think straight and I stared up at him, giving him my attention without looking away, because I couldn’t even look anywhere else anymore. There was nothing so wonderful as the sight of him in that room with that crop. He was a god, a distant creature who I got the joy of serving.

And I got to see him like that for a whole month, got to feel his instruction with each and every crop lick, with each hard command. “Good girl,” he said when I was posed correctly, and it felt like ecstasy. Shivers of pleasure ran down my spine at the sound of those words. “Let’s see you standing now.” But when I made to stand, he lifted an eyebrow and chuckled, stopping me. “You’ll learn to automatically clean up the messes you leave.” He tapped the floor where I had dripped cum and I groaned, bowing low to lap it up, closing my eyes with my desire. And oh, there was so much of it.

“That’s it. Now you may stand.” I obeyed, vision turning hazy with greedy lust, but I tried to ignore it, remembering what he had said. His pleasure. If it pleased him to have me orgasm, he would make me do so and until then, I wasn’t so much as allowed to beg or ask for one. So I stared into his eyes instead, thinking of that phrase. His pleasure. It helped a lot more than I ever would have expected it to. 

I automatically spread wide, obscenely wide, like he had shown me with the spreader bar. I arched my back, so that my tits were displayed, and clasped my hands behind my neck, so that I was defenseless and open. And it made him beam with pride. “Good girl. You remembered well.” I moaned when he tapped the crop between my legs, watching him smile while he teased me. The haze of lust turned insistent and I made a sound, whimpering with desire, though I didn’t dare speak. He didn’t want me to, and I was scared of his displeasure in the same way I craved for his pleasure. He switched between tapping my clit and the lips of my sex to slapping my thighs and I rose up on my toes, giving over to the sensation.

And that’s when he stopped. I whimpered again and his smile deepened, his eyes darkening with satisfaction at my obvious arousal and discomfort. Instead of answering it, he circled around me and stroked a hand around my waist, instead asking, “Are you hungry?”

I had to work to even focus on the change of pace. I made to open my mouth, but he was kind enough to stop me with a finger over my lips. “It’s a yes or no question,” he said softly. “Nod or shake your head.” And there was no anger. There never was with him. There was only stern reprimand when I failed him or strict reminder that I shouldn’t fail him. This was the latter. I thought about his question, trying to think. Yes or no? Wasn’t that supposed to be easy? But my mind said that I should be hungry while my body said that I didn’t feel that way, but that was probably only because of nerves. And food would be a bodily pleasure that might temporarily get my mind off the unrequited pleasure I was suffering. “Pet, that’s enough.” He smacked my cheek so that my mind snapped back to focus on his eyes, on his pleasure. There was exasperation in his gaze and that made me whimper. “My patience is not without end. Yes or no, it’s simple.”

I nodded, mostly because I hoped food would get my mind off of how horny I was. And that assumption? Oh, it was dead wrong.

He smiled in encouragement. “There, see? It was that easy, Pet. The next time you let your mind go, I’ll refocus your attention with clover clamps.” I shivered with dread and nodded that I understood perfectly. My focus was to be totally on him. Bad Pet. No. “But I’m glad to hear you’re hungry. It gives me a chance to acquaint you with your new predominant form of eating. Breakfast will be the only exception. Come here and let me show you how it works.”

He pat the spanking bench, which made me curious as to how this would go. I watched him warily, suddenly cautious as to what kind of food would involve the spanking bench, but I lowered my hands and automatically got to my knees to crawl to him. It had been another lesson of his that he preferred my crawling and it was obvious I pleased him by remembering. He pet my hair lovingly. “Bend over and reach your hands down to these bars here.” He indicated the other side of the bench and when I crawled over, the result was an actually fairly comfortable position. There were two little holders for my knees, and they were cushioned so I could stay in that form for extended lengths of time. He chained my ankle cuffs to the strange backwards stirrups and then chained my wrist cuffs to the bars that I held. When I was safely cuffed and tethered, he checked me over with a loving brush of his hand down my body, and then he went and got a strange kind of post, adjusting it so that the top was level with my face.

I felt my eyes go wide when he came back with a molded cock toy. And I wasn’t sure, but it looked a lot like one of the realistic shapings that could be molded after a partner’s cock. While I watched, he fixed it to the attachment at the top of the post. “Open up, Pet.”

I had a brief moment while I opened my mouth to realize that I was starting to think of myself as Pet, not Jezebel. And then I realized that my thoughts had started turning to the third person, as if I were a toy, an object, not someone. But then I was too busy choking on the toy to think about it.

“Shh. Such a good girl. Just accept it. Relax your throat.” I obeyed, my pussy pulsing in need at whatever this was. Hadn’t he asked about food? I didn’t care much anymore, lost to the thought that I was likely sucking a mold of his cock, and enjoying the thought of having practice to better please him in the future. I had to work to relax my throat and take the toy, had to focus on swallowing to get the entirety of it down, and his relentless coaxing helped.

And then I had finally reached the end and my lips pressed a button on the base, so that a spritz of thick, chalky liquid hit the back of my throat. I swallowed automatically while my mind went crazy with the most intense and depraved arousal I had ever felt. I snorted around the toy, moaning, and he pet me to soothe me again. “Easy. Let the arousal wash over you. I know it turns you on and I’m afraid you won’t be getting relief for a few days yet. I like my slave horny and ready for me. I enjoy seeing you drip cum so that you can clean it with your tongue. You don’t mind to suffer a little for me, do you, Pet?” I shook my head even while I whined with a wild desire at what he was doing to me with nothing but a cock toy. “Good girl. You should have enough room to move on that toy nice and safe. Why don’t you try it for me? I have to take care of the bar while you eat, but we need to make sure my little slave is safe. Go on.” I groaned with tears in my eyes.

And he was right. I had more than enough leeway with my chained cuffs, and the cock toy post in front of me moved at my touch so that I could fuck it with my mouth. I sucked on it, thrust it deep down my throat until I felt the spritz, and then pushed it away so that I could breathe easily. There was no danger at all of suffocating while he worked, of having problems. And I knew instinctively that these were the things he was worried about.

I looked up to meet his eyes where he watched with perverted joy. “You’re going to be a slut for cocksucking, Pet. How deep do you think the conditioning will go? Will you start to salivate when you see cock after a week of taking food from one? At the very least, you’ll get a lot of practice on the shape of my cock.” I moaned with eager lust at the thoughts he gave me. I had once heard that hypnotism only worked if the receptor’s mind was open to the suggestions. You couldn’t just hypnotize someone to anything. They had to be willing on some level.

I wondered if conditioning had similar effects if its receptor was willing. Because I was more than willing, eager for what might happen from his twisted training.

I sucked the cock toy that fed me while my pussy dripped with desire for what was happening to me, for what he was hoping to do to me. Oh, yes, I was insanely willing for what he wanted to do. I fed myself the chalky fluid that simulated cum, moaning, and the hardest part was that I had to work to refrain from orgasming. There was no stimulation on my pussy or asshole, but the twisted perversion of what he was doing got to me so fucking much that I had to focus to not cum from it.

Which made me hotter because my own denial made me horny with the thought that it was to service him. Everything done in submission made me burn and in slavery, that meant even eating made me burn alive with desire.

————

He started routines instantly, beginning with that night. When he came back from taking care of Sulfur’s, I was lost in a daze of painful desire and my mind wouldn’t go down those long winded journeys. All I could focus on was my Master and what he said, the look in his eyes. I jumped in anticipation when he opened the door again and looked up to him with my mouth full of the toy molded after his cock. He smiled with his head lifted slightly, as if he were taking a minute to enjoy the sight of me finally bowed and subdued, the way he had been so determined to have me. That look made me lower my gaze, not because I was thinking of disobeying, but because the act of lowering my eyes felt submissive in a natural sense. I quickly learned that even if it felt naturally submissive, that did not mean that it pleased my Master. He corrected me with a crop strike to my cheek. “No. I want my slave’s gaze on mine, so look at me.” And I instantly obeyed. His look cleared and he seemed pleased.

“Much better. Let’s see how you’ve done.” I watched him open the custom toy and pull out something like a cartridge. He studied it and placed it back in the end. “You’ll have to suck cock quicker than that from now on, Pet. The next time I set you up for food, you finish it, or you’ll take the cane in punishment.” The inferno of desire inside of me flared and I moaned. “Quiet. Open up. I’ll help you finish this time since you’re getting used to it. And I’ll show you how you should do it for yourself.” 

By help me and show me, he meant brutally fucking my face with the toy. He lifted the stand out of the way first, and stood in front of me, having set the crop down for a time. Instead, he grasped my chin with one hand while he gave the stern command to, “Open.” When I obeyed, he thrust the toy between my lips, and I lifted. At first I choked with his abrupt working me, but I had gotten used to that cock shape down my throat and swallowed the reflex down, taking it. I blanked my mind and just accepted what my Master desired. “Look at me.” When I did, my pussy spasmed from the look of strict ownership in his eyes. “This is how you eat, understood? Don’t forget this.”

Christ, I definitely wouldn’t. He fucked the hole in my face like he had fucked my asshole, and it wasn’t something I would ever forget. I held his gaze, stared into the cold distance there, and burned alive from it. Even this, food, was a way for me to be used or trained for better use. He kept going until the cartridge was empty and, as per his devious intent, I felt strangely satisfied and full. Where I had been physically hungry before, I no longer was. I sank into that feeling, letting it take effect in me. He pet my hair, while I stayed still for a while and soothed under his touch.

“Come on. Let’s get you to sleep now. It’s been a long day for both of us.” It had been, but it was a good day, one I was glad had happened. Despite all the fear I had once felt, I was deep in the most comfortable waters I had ever known. Oh, I was still scared, but his petting me and keeping me on edge made it difficult to stay scared. His twisted routines distracted me too much, as well.

For instance, I forgot all my fears when he left me kneeling by the cage and came back holding the chastity belt, a butt plug, and a large dildo. Instead I felt new terror, like how I might actually go crazy from that. Speaking and begging didn’t cross my mind. I cried out, though, and scrabbled away, whimpering pathetically.

And damn him, but he didn’t do anything at all in response. He just stared down at me with that implacable, flat gaze, a silent message that this was what was happening and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. It succeeded in making me crawl back to him, but I gave him my most pathetic gaze. Was this punishment? I thought I had been doing so well.

His eyes softened when he had me kneeling up on my knees before him. Master’s touch was soothing and careful while he inserted the dildo first, then the butt plug. Both applications made me groan and I cried just a little, scared that I really would lose my mind. “Hush. This is how you dress for bed now, that’s all. You’ll grow used to the arousal, used to the need. It makes you a better slave for me when you feel so eager, Pet, and continual arousal is a slave’s natural state. Behave for Master and get into your cage.”

I crawled into it, insanely horny. He did one last thing and that was to feed a chain through the bars of the cage, which he clipped to my collar. I felt a tremor of fear when he went to the light switch, wondering if I had ever mentioned my fear of the dark.

But when he flicked the light off, it became apparent that I had either mentioned it or he had noticed it, because there was a night light in the corner of the room. I covered up with the soft fleece blankets in my cage and tried to fall asleep while my holes were twitching around the toys that held me.

The first night was the hardest. I woke up four times from the toys holding me in extended penetration, feeling hot, feeling needy. All I could think in those moments was that I missed my Master and his touch. Everything made sense under his voice and touch. But then my back touched the bars of the cage and the chain attached to my collar rattled and, when I shifted, the metal of my cuffs twisted around my wrist and ankle.

And I felt secure again, falling back into sleep while my body kept itself naturally lubricated around the toys stuffing me. No mercy, no release. Just slavery.

It was terrifyingly one of the greatest, most peaceful, feelings I had ever experienced.

————

More routines. More control. He wrapped me in layers of both of those so tightly that it felt like home, felt like something I could never break from and didn’t want to break from. When he came to me in the morning, he woke me by rattling my chain, and I jumped awake, moaning when I automatically pulsed on the toys inside of me.