by Red Phoenix
I’ve chosen to meet her in the office building of a family friend who runs a successful trading company here in LA.
I sit down behind Pyotr Gagarin’s massive desk, pleased with both the size of the furniture and the distance it will put between Samantha and I. The chairs facing the desk look miniscule by comparison—just the way I want it.
I stiffen when I hear the two of them just outside in the hallway.
I look to the heavens and mutter, “God, I don’t ask much of You, but I’m asking now. Give me the strength not to kill her.”
I remain seated as the door swings open and Thane enters the office. He gives me a nod, silently asking if I’m still okay with Samantha entering the room.
Although I am not, I nod back, trusting that God will prevent me from strangling her.
Thane gestures to Samantha and I hold my breath as she walks in.
The bitch is as beautiful as ever, with her long blonde hair and those killer legs, but instead of feeling intense attraction toward her, I only feel vile loathing.
Before she can meet my gaze, I turn my attention on Thane. He is the only person who matters to me.
“Samantha appreciates you agreeing to meet with her,” he states.
I huff in irritation, not bothering to look in Samantha’s direction, but I can already feel my rage building due to her proximity.
“Yes, thank you,” she echoes.
My eyes narrow as I turn my head and stare at her, growling ominously under my breath.
She immediately drops her gaze to the floor, noticeably trembling.
I sit back in my oversized chair, forcing myself to slow my breathing while my fury increases with every second that ticks by.
I haven’t asked them to sit yet.
Realizing this is a mistake, I glance at Thane, ready to tell him so but ut he speaks first.
“Samantha has something she wishes to tell you.”
Deciding to get it over with, I glare at her. “Out with it, then.”
Samantha lifts her gaze, but the moment our eyes meet, she immediately falls to her knees. “I’m so sorry, Rytsar…”
“Never call me by that name again!” I howl, incensed that she would dare to use it.
Samantha’s face crumbles in sorrow, but she nods meekly to indicate she understands. Taking a deep breath, she begins again. “I have no excuse for what happened. I know that. But…I am more sorry than you will ever know.”
My eyes narrow as I grip the arms of the chair, not trusting myself to speak.
Her voice falters as she continues. “If I could take back what happened, I would.” She looks at me beseechingly. “I will do anything to make this right.”
“There is nothing you can do,” I state emphatically.
I watch as she shivers on hearing the finality of my tone.
Tears come to her eyes. “Send me to jail. I’ll willingly serve my time. But, please, don’t forsake me.”
I scowl at her, unmoved.
Her bottom lip quivers when she informs me, “I’m going to a counselor, and I just joined AA. I will never touch another drop, I promise.” She glances at my comrade. “Thane even suggested I serve under an experienced Domme so I can learn by example.”
I huff in disbelief. “You serving under another?”
She nods. “Yes, because I have no business being a Dominant until I understand the needs, desires, and struggles a sub faces.”
I roll my eyes, not believing she is capable of being a fulltime submissive.
“I will do it. I give you my word,” she declares.
“Why? Why do all that?” I demand, suspicious of her motivation.
She swallows hard before answering. “I cannot give up BDSM now that I’ve tasted it, but I have to guarantee that what happened with you never happens again.”
I huff in anger. “It should never have happened in the first place. I told you to stop numerous times!”
“I know…” she whimpers, cowering under the intensity of my fury. “I’m devastated that I hurt you.”
I glare at her in disgust. “You betrayed me on the deepest level a person can.”
Tears fill her eyes as she chokes out, “I know…”
“There can be no forgiveness—ever.”
She shakes her head, not wanting to hear it. I glance at Thane with a look of I told you so.
He immediately speaks up, telling her, “Samantha, you didn’t come here seeking forgiveness.”
She closes her eyes and nods. “No, I did not.”
I don’t believe it and growl under my breath.
“Repeat out loud what Durov just said,” Thane commands.
Her voice catches when she says. “There can be no forgiveness…”
I say nothing, letting the minutes drag out uncomfortably for her. I want every second to be torture.
When Samantha can’t take the silence, she opens her eyes to meet my gaze. “But I love you, Anton.”
I stand up, balling my fists to prevent myself from jumping over the table and strangling her right then and there.
With finality, I tell her, “You are dead to me.”
I hear her gasp as she crumples to the floor.
I look at Thane. “Get her out of here.”
Turning my back on Samantha, I start counting, forcing myself not to move as rage consumes me.
I love you…
The words echo in my head as the pain and humiliation of that night comes rushing back, and I have to clench my teeth to prevent myself from screaming.
How dare she make that declaration after what she’s done?
Thane helps Samantha to her feet, and I can hear her quiet sobs as the two walk out of the office.
The flood of adrenaline my anger has incited makes it difficult to keep still, so I conjure up a vision of my mother and continue counting slowly.
Relief flows through me when I hear the door close, followed by the hollow sound of Samantha’s stilettos echoing down the hallway.
I’ve survived.
Opening the drawer of the desk, I pull out my vodka to celebrate.
Thane meets me later that night to check in with me. “How are you holding up?”
I sigh as I think back on the meeting. “As long as I never have to speak to her again, I will be fine.”
“It’s unfortunate that it required Samantha seeing you face to face for her to fully understand the extent of the damage she’s done.”
“What was up with that fucking declaration?”
Thane shakes his head. “I was shocked when she said it.”
“You don’t tell someone you’ve assaulted that you love them,” I growl in disdain.
“No, but it does explain why she was determined to meet with you, despite our multiple warnings. She’s been seriously deluding herself.”
I frown, uncertain that the meeting had any lasting effect on her. “Do you think she understands now, comrade?”
He looks me in the eye. “The meeting today destroyed any illusions she had.”
“At least I can hold onto that,” I tell him.
I gaze up to the heavens. “I give thanks to God and my sweet mamulya that Samantha still walks among the living.” I look back at Thane. “All those feelings came rushing back the moment she entered the room.”
“I regret that you had to endure it, brother,” he states sadly. “I wish I could have spared you.”
“Knowing she’s remorseful did help to hold my anger in check.” I stare at Thane. “I trust you will do everything necessary so no one else suffers under her hand. I would not be able to forgive myself if she assaulted another.”
“I feel exactly the same way,” Thane says, then vows to me. “I will be unfailingly vigilant.”
I nod, knowing he will not fail me—or Samantha. And that gives me some semblance of peace.
Thane looks uneasy when he asks, “I’ve noticed that you haven’t been to the dungeon for months. Why is that?”
I feel the knots in my s
tomach start to twist when I admit, “I am not the man I was, comrade.”
“It’s an essential part of who you are. I remember when you told me that BDSM takes the physical and mixes it with the spiritual so you can experience internal balance.”
I grimace, haunted by my own words.
Thane looks me directly in the eye. “You need to experience that again, brother.”
I shrug, growling like an angry mongrel. “It’s not possible anymore.”
“Why?”
“Without my ’nines, it feels as if my arm has been cut off.”
“You can’t think that way,” he insists.
I frown, irritated that Thane is trying to tell me how I should think. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I disagree.”
When I snarl under my breath, he smiles in response.
“Trust me. I know exactly what you need.” He puts his hands on both my shoulders and turns me around, pushing me toward the door.
I reluctantly follow behind him as he leads me to his dorm building.
Once inside the room, I stand with my arms crossed and a scowl on my face as I watch him rummage through his closet. My jaw drops when he produces my cat o’ nines.
I never thought I would see her again and stare at my ’nines as if I’m seeing a ghost.
“I had to keep everything in case you decided to press charges against Samantha. When it became obvious that you weren’t going to, I threw it all away,” Thane explained. “However, I couldn’t get rid of your cat o’ nines. This instrument is a part of you, my friend. So, I cleaned it thoroughly several times, determined to make it as clean as the first day you wielded it.”
Staring down at my ’nines with affection, I slowly hold out my hand, taking it from him.
The instant I touch the tool, I feel the spark of our connection. Tears flow freely when I tell him, “I’m indebted to you, moy droog.”
He smiles. “I knew you needed it.”
I swing my ’nines for the first time in months. The muscles in my arm and back stretch as the wicked tails cut through the air and it suddenly feels as if I can breathe again…
Thane stares at me, grinning. “It’s good to see you’re back.”
I sigh with pleasure as I swing her several more times.
“I think there is only one thing it’s still lacking,” Thane states.
I stop for a moment, tilting my head when I ask, “What is that, comrade?”
“It needs to be anointed with the grateful tears of a sub.”
I nod my agreement, looking back at my ’nines. “That is exactly what she needs.”
Thane glances at his watch. “Luckily, the dungeon is open. What do you say we head straight over there?”
“Have you eaten?” I ask when I hear his stomach growl.
“No. Have you?”
“Nyet.”
He reaches into a bag on his desk and throws something at me. My reflexes react and I catch it before I know what it is. Looking down at my palm, I see a green apple.
“I’d like to fill up on scenes tonight rather than food,” he explains.
I throw it into the air and catch it before taking a bite out of the tart apple. With the juices still dripping from my lips, I nod. “I couldn’t agree more.”
I’m surprised by my increasing anxiety when we arrive at the old warehouse which houses our secret BDSM club.
Normally, I only feel a sense of relief, as if I’m returning home—but not tonight.
I hesitate, having second thoughts about coming here. “This is a mistake.”
“No, it is not,” Thane assures me, pushing me toward the entrance. “This is exactly where you need to be.”
I start to back away from the door. “I can’t…I’m not that man anymore.”
Thane stops me. “Do you remember when you told me what the key to being a Dominant is?”
I look at him, shaking my head.
He presses his hand against my chest. “Being a Dom comes from here, and the core of who you are hasn’t changed.”
I’m about to protest and insist he’s wrong when I hear a squeal behind me.
“Oh my goodness, it’s Rytsar Superstar!”
I turn to see luna fall to the ground in a bow of supplication. “I’m sorry, Rytsar! It just flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. I know I must be punished.”
Seeing her bowing before me ignites my dominant nature. Although I give her a look of disapproval, inside I am pleased.
Her enthusiastic greeting infuses me with confidence.
“Luna, we have spoken about this before,” I scold.
She presses her head to the pavement. “Yes, Rytsar.” Her voice is ripe with guilt. “You told me never to call you that in your presence.”
“So, you understand the reason you must be punished?”
“I do, Rytsar, and I gratefully submit.”
Since punishment is expected, I cannot shirk my duty. However, I have already decided what exquisite torture I will make her endure before I deliver multiple orgasms she won’t forget.
I appreciate the difference luna has unknowingly made for me tonight and will reward her for it—after I punish her.
With renewed confidence, I step up to the door and knock.
The guard on the other side asks, “What is the one truth?”
I look back at luna and smirk. “All is fair in pleasure and pain.”
She drops her gaze, biting her lip in anticipation.
I nod to Thane, grateful he’s pushed me to return here. Walking through the entrance, I head down the metal staircase to the basement. A woman cries out in pain on the other side of the heavy door, sending a pleasant jolt down my spine and hardening my cock.
Yes, this is exactly where I need to be…
I open the door and stride into the dungeon, taking a deep breath as I savor the smell of sex, leather, excitement, and fear.
I notice the room breaks out in excited chatter when I enter. Luna, it appears, is not the only one who has missed me.
Subs who are not exclusively collared start crowding around me, begging to be my first for the evening.
I look down the line of submissives who wish to taste my ’nines again and my gaze lands on a curvy woman with a mass of tight, brown curls framing her face.
I haven’t seen her at the dungeon before.
She stands apart from the others, glancing at me shyly with a beguiling smile I’m drawn to. Her wild hair makes me want to fist a handful of it and pull her head back so I can watch her cries of pleasure as I fuck her.
My eyes drift to the cane she’s using to support herself.
I start walking toward the girl, watching her smile grow and a blush color her cheeks the moment she realizes I’m coming straight toward her.
I glance at her throat to make certain she isn’t wearing a collar before I ask, “What is your name?”
“Christy.”
I decide to call her by the first letter of her name. “Cee. That is your name for tonight. You may call me Rytsar.”
She lowers her eyes. “I’m honored to call you Rytsar.”
I open my tool bag and produce my ’nines. “Have you played with one of these before, cee?”
She swallows hard. “Only once, Rytsar.”
“Would you like to experience it again?”
She blushes a deeper shade of red when she answers. “I’ve only heard good things about your expertise with the cat o’ nines.”
I frown, reading between the lines. “Does that mean you did not have a good experience your first time?”
Her eyes widen as she opens her mouth to speak. “To be completely frank, I don’t think the man who wielded it knew what he was doing.”
I raise an eyebrow and ask her, “Why would you be willing to risk that again?”
She glances around at the other subs. “Everyone has had only high praise for you, Rytsar. It would be a shame not to know the true nature of the instrument
when handled by an experienced Master.”
I stare at her, trying to keep my emotions in check. If I had any doubts about my place here, young cee has erased them all. These are my people.
I’m needed here.
“I will start out slow. However, do not be ashamed to use your safeword at any point. The only kind of pain I want you to experience is the kind that makes you fly.”
She smiles, bowing her head low. “I promise to use my safeword, Rytsar.”
I take her aside to learn the nature of her disability and the areas that I need to avoid. Once I have her body mapped out in my head, I tell her I am ready to begin.
She suddenly starts crying and looks down, embarrassed by her tears.
“Are you having second thoughts?” I ask.
“No…it’s just that most Doms are scared to scene with me because of my health condition. I never thought someone as talented as you would give me a second glance.”
I put my finger under her chin and lift her eyes to meet mine. “I find the challenge exhilarating, not daunting, cee. As long as you are open with me, we will both enjoy this session.”
I feel her tremble as fresh tears fall down her cheeks. She swipes them away hastily. “I don’t normally cry. I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize. I happen to enjoy a sub’s tears.”
She smiles at me gratefully. “You aren’t nearly as scary as people led me to believe.”
Chuckling softly, I tell her, “Wait until you feel the caress of my ’nines, cee. I will introduce you to fear.”
Her pupils grow wide, and she swallows hard again. “I can’t wait.”
“Undress for me,” I command huskily.
I step back and start swinging my ’nines as I watch her strip. I purposefully observe cee as she undresses, not only to admire her body, but also to note which movements cause her the most pain.
Her courage is something I admire and can relate to. To face excruciating pain every day and continue on—we are more alike than she knows. While hers is physical and mine is internal, the struggle is similar.
She is a warrior and, today, I plan to treat her like one.
When she is completely naked, she stands before me, sighing softly under my gaze as I walk around her. Grunting my approval, I take in her feminine curves and the artistic tattoos that cover her skin. I can sense that she is shy about being exposed but is brave enough to bare herself to me in front of the others in the dungeon.