“Lick it clean first,” I command her. A bead of precum leaks from my slit and she quickly laps at it. Her hot tongue sends a chill down my body and forces my toes to curl. I remain stiff and in control, but the feel of her, the eagerness to please, makes me want to groan in utter rapture.
I tighten my grip on the base of her neck, knowing the slight pain I’m causing her. Her thighs clench and tremble, and a sweet sound of pleasure escapes her as I lower her hot mouth onto my cock. It's a clear sign that she enjoys the pain. I don’t know how much she wants though. That’s something we need to discuss before I push her limits.
“Good girl,” I tell her, pushing her down farther until I can feel the back of her throat. I close my eyes and groan, letting her know how good she feels. I hold her down, loving the sensation of her throat tightening around the head of my dick. I pump my hips and push her all the way down, all of me cutting off her air supply with her nose nearly touching my pubes. I let her up, pulling her off of my massive cock. She heaves in a breath, her chest swaying and her fingers gripping onto the bench.
“Again?” I ask her. If she were my Slave, I wouldn’t bother. But I’m also learning her desires.
“Please,” she begs as her voice comes out with desperation and I immediately react, shoving her face down as she eagerly devours my length.
I let her move this time, and she pushes herself down, as far as I did. Widening her jaws and taking in as much of me as she can. I let my hand roam down her back to her lush ass and inch her dress up. She’s wearing underwear, but that’s something that’s going to change. I want her pussy and ass easily available. For now, I push my fingers against the thin fabric and buck my hips up when I feel how hot and wet she is.
Fuck. She’s so ready. She’s fucking soaked for this. I pinch her clit lightly, and the vibrations from her moan around my dick nearly make me cum. But I hold back my own pleasure. Our first time will be together.
I push the damp fabric out of the way and tease her. Without any warning, I push three fingers into her tight pussy as I shove her head down farther onto my cock. I pump them in and out while thrusting my hips. Keeping up a rapid pace, and loving the noises from her wet cunt mixing with the sounds of her choking on my dick.
I pull her head off of me and let her suck in a breath. She’s shaky and wobbles slightly, her eyes glazed over and spit on the side of her mouth. She heaves in a breath and then another before I release my hold on the base of her neck. All the while I keep steadily fucking her with my fingers. Stroking her walls and pushing her closer to climax.
“May I please cum?” she cries out with desperation.
“Cum for me, kitten,” I say before shoving her head back down. She sucks me vigorously, bobbing her head and hollowing her cheeks, both in an effort to get me off and an eagerness to race toward her own orgasm.
She enjoys this. I throw my head back as my balls draw up. My spine tingles, and I know I’m close. I pull my hand out of her pussy and spank her clit, smacking my wet fingers against her pussy as she screams her pleasure around my cock.
Her throat opens, and I shove my dick down deeper. I continue thrusting my hips in short pumps while I resume fingering her over and over until her body tenses.
Yes!
Her cunt spasms around my fingers, and that’s my undoing.
Wave after wave of hot cum leaves me, and she obediently swallows it all down. The feeling only adds to my pleasure. I continue pulling her orgasm from her as she cleans my dick of every last drop, her body shuddering and her soft moans of pleasure filling my ears.
The sight of her with her eyes closed, enjoying the taste of my cock so intensely, makes me rock fucking hard again. I could take her for hours.
Her thighs are still trembling from the intensity of her orgasm as I lick her cum from my fingers. She’s fucking delicious. And tight. Next time I want her cumming on my dick.
It takes a moment for me to catch my breath as I pet her hair and let her lay her head on my lap.
Perfection.
I grab a blanket from the side of the room; they’re here specifically for aftercare. Pulling her panties back in place first, I pull her small body into my arms and sit down on the bench, nestling her into my lap.
“Did you enjoy that?” I ask her softly, kissing her hair. Her sweet taste is still on my tongue and I want more, but not here.
“Yes,” she says softly, her cheek resting on my shoulder. Her hot breath tickles my neck.
“Is it what you came here for?”
She clears her throat and shifts slightly in my lap. “I’m not sure what I came here for.”
“You’re looking for a Master,” I answer her.
“Yes.”
“You found one.”
She fidgets in my lap. The lack of a response makes me nervous.
“I’m not interested in play. I want the real thing.” I speak while holding her gaze.
“I do, too,” she answers softly.
“I want you, Katia. And I don’t want to share.”
She’s perfect. I can give her what she wants, and what she needs.
Everything is exactly how I imagined it would be. Up until this point. She isn’t giving me the answer I require.
“I don’t want anyone thinking you’re not off-limits.” I can feel my heart race as I talk to her. I want my collar around her neck. I want everyone to know she’s taken. No one else can give her what I can. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to provide for her in ways she’s never dreamed of.
Her pale blue eyes fly to mine, and her body tenses. For the first time since she’s been in here, she’s showing signs of fear. Fear of commitment.
But I’ll be damned if she lets anyone else touch her. If she’s having second thoughts about me being her Master, I’ll convince her. “Are you unhappy with me?” I ask her.
“No, it’s not that. I’m just not ready.”
“In here, without a collar, others will approach you.” And I’m sure as fuck not going to allow that.
“You have my word.” Her voice is shaky.
“I don’t want your word,” I say in a gravelly voice displaying my dominance over her, and signaling the severity I feel at her denying me this request. I won’t give her an ultimatum. She’s not mine yet, and this demonstration of disobedience isn’t a good sign. But she has a past. And I’m acutely aware of the fact that her perception is different from mine. She has real fears that need to be addressed. Still, I want her marked as mine. “It will displease me if you deny my collar.”
She wraps her arms around herself and looks away, sadness apparent on her beautiful features.
She slowly raises her chin, her eyes finding mine. “That’s all I can give you for now...”
Her voice trails off before she gets the title out. But I can hear it on the tip of her tongue. Master. Now that our play is over, she’s reverting back. She’s giving herself safety. I don’t mind it, but she will have more than enough safety with me. She only needs to let go.
“What do you need from me?” I ask her, gently cupping her chin in my hand.
She’s hesitant at first, but she leans into my touch. Her eyes are closed as she answers, “I don’t know. I’m afraid.”
“You already know not to be afraid.” As her Master, I’m to carry the weight of her worries. “I want you as my Slave, Katia.”
“I have problems.” She looks away, toward the door and I can see exactly what’s going through her mind. She doesn't want to be taken advantage of, and she doesn’t know if she can handle her. That’s fine. I can soothe her worries. I have to remember that I have a very large advantage here. And she has no idea how much I know.
She needs to be comforted, probably fed, and have a simple conversation. I can try to take this slow. I don’t want to. But she obviously needs that.
“Come,” I say as I take her hand and lead her out of the playroom, toward the dining hall. There’s a show tonight. Fire play, which should be enjoyable to watc
h. It’s not something I toy with, but nonetheless it’s entertaining.
“I have to go.” Her feet stay planted, and she looks up at me as though she’s begging me for permission to leave. She’s not mine yet. That’s painfully obvious. But I’m not going to let her get away with that shit.
“You will never lie to me again.” My voice is hard. She doesn’t have to go.
She furiously shakes her head and insists, “I’m not lying.” Her voice is laced with fear. “I really do have to go. I am not well right now.” Her breathing is coming in panicked breaths.
“That doesn’t mean you need to go. If you’re in need, all you need to do is tell me.” Adrenaline courses through my blood. I’m frustrated and angry. I should have planned this out better.
“I don’t want to.” She answers honestly, and I rub my thumb on the back of her hand. This is too much, too soon. I fucking hate Joe Levi in this moment. I wanted her comfortable. I wanted to take things slower.
I kiss the back of her hand and nod.
“This was too much for you, wasn’t it?” Her eyes widen and she starts to answer, but closes her mouth.
“You don’t understand.” I do. I fucking understand everything. Had I played this right, she wouldn’t be feeling so insecure. I can fix this.
“You’ll come back here. Tomorrow night.” I give her the command. She focuses her full attention on me. Her submission is obvious. “If you’d like to continue this, of course.”
“I would,” she answers in a hushed voice.
“I would too, kitten. I understand you need time to process this. Take tonight and tomorrow during the day to think about things. And then you’ll come back here. Wait for me in the dining hall. I don’t want you coming back here without a collar on.”
She nods her head obediently. “I’ll do that.”
“You’re going to think of me tonight, kitten,” I lean into her, whispering and gripping her a little tighter, “but you will not touch yourself.”
I can see the desire back in her eyes as she whispers, “Yes”. Part of me wants to push her further tonight. Take her to a private room and talk to her about her needs. I can reassure her that I can provide for her, just as I know she can provide for me.
But she does need to process this. I need her full commitment, and without her willing to wear my collar, I don’t have that.
Tonight I will make her a list. I should have already made her a clear set of rules. She’s a creature of habit and routines, and she desires a Master. Which means she needs rules.
This is my fault. But I will make it right.
Chapter 8
Katia
I roll over in the bed, unable to sleep, my nipples hard, my clit pulsing with desire. A low groan of sexual frustration escapes my lips as I scissor my legs together, trying to calm the incessant clenching of my pussy. It’s been plaguing me ever since I left the club, along with the memory of my mouth being used for Isaac’s pleasure.
Fuck.
I loved it. I loved every second of being with him. Being used and commanded. I roll over again, my body covered with a sheen of sweat. It’s so fucking hot in here. It doesn’t help that I’m on fire with desire, primed and ready for another explosive orgasm. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I wish I hadn’t left. I need more. I want more. I should’ve stayed.
There was so much left to say to Isaac, so much to explore. God, I want him. The way he walked up and challenged the other Master for my body and then took control of me was so fucking sexy. My skin pricks as I remember the determination Isaac displayed in getting his way with me, the way he made me take all of his length.
My limbs shudder, and my clit throbs as the memory of choking on Isaac’s massive cock while he plunged his fingers in and out of my pussy runs through my mind. Another moan of frustration escapes my lips. It was so fucking hot. Isaac had been in complete control the whole time. It was unreal. He’d instantly known what I wanted. What I fucking needed.
And I need more of it. Now.
I have to go back, I decide, resisting the urge to reach down and smack my throbbing clit the way he did. I can’t wait. The only problem is I’m afraid of committing completely. Afraid of the unknown. In the club though, I’ll be safe.
I roll over again, feeling frustrated and wanting to grind my pussy against the bedding so I can get some relief. But he told me not to. I don’t have permission. The very thought makes me breathe easier. I will obey him. I will not disappoint him.
I can’t get over how powerful and commanding he was. The look in his eyes behind that mask… full of desire. I hear the roar of engines outside, cars passing by on the highway, adding to my frustration. The sounds aren’t helping keep me from falling asleep, but even if they weren’t there, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I’m too wound up and needing his touch. It’s been so long since I’ve wanted like this. Since I felt this need.
But it isn't like not being able to sleep is anything new. There’ve been many nights I’ve been unable to sleep, but for a different reason entirely. A shiver goes down my spine, and a weight presses down on my chest. I close my eyes and shake my head, refusing to go there.
I ignore the emotions threatening to smother me, suffocating me like they have night after night as another pulse rocks my clit. I’m too excited. Since getting my life back, I’ve dreamed of a place like Club X, somewhere I could fulfill my fantasies and make myself whole again. I deserve happiness in every way. Including my sexual needs, but I hadn’t found an outlet. Until today.
But he wants more. A collar. I grip my throat, my pulse picking up speed, remembering the metal chain around my neck and the spikes that dug painfully into my skin.
No, I think and shake my head, not wanting to go there. To the dark memories. But it’s too late. I can't stop feeling the sensation of the choking collar my Master used to train me. The desire burning up my body flees as a flood of fear washes over me and I sit upright in the bed, my heart pounding like a battering ram. The burning sweat covering my skin turns cold as I try to gain control.
Isaac is not like that, I tell myself. He won’t be like that.
There should be no comparison. The two aren’t even remotely the same. A collar would be the only thing that they have in common. And the title. Master. I already feel something with Isaac that I never felt with my previous Master. Respect. It’s hard to understand, though. In some ways, Isaac reminds me of Master O.
Tears prick my eyes as I remember the only Master that was nice to me. Whenever I was around him, I felt safe. He was caring, and always sensitive to my needs and wants. In a way, I hated him for making me feel safe because I wanted him to take me away and make me his. But he never did. He had the power to save me, but didn’t. I felt betrayed by that, like he’d put on this show to be nice to me when he really didn’t care about me. None of them ever did.
I pull my knees to my chest, instinctively wrapping my fingers around my ankle. I was so filled with desire from tonight’s events, I forgot to cover my ankle with my weighted blanket. But I need it now. I sit there for what seems like hours, but it’s only a few minutes. Listening to the cars pass by outside, my heart thudding in my chest, I keep trying to push away those dark memories.
It’s gone. It’s in the past. I’ve dealt with these emotions. I thought I’d come to terms with them.
Lies, the dark voice whispers inside of me. You’d barely acknowledged their existence.
I take in a shuddering breath, refusing to listen and counting softly in my head as I repeat the poem Fire and Ice over and over again. It’s a trick I learned to lessen my anxiety, long ago. Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.
I close my eyes, whispering the poem I’ve memorized and letting the calming cadence block out all other thoughts until my heart has settled and the rush of adrenaline has waned. I just need to try to get some sleep.
Sighing, I crawl off my small bed, and it groans as I place my bare feet on the cold floor and go over to the chair in the corner w
here my heavy blanket lies neatly folded. It’s weighted and not meant for this use, but it works. With it under my arm, I walk back over to the bed, climbing in and then laying the familiar throw across my left ankle.
I need it. I need to feel the weight as though it’s the shackle. Without it there, sometimes I wake up late at night, feeling just how I felt before. Right after I stabbed him to death and took the keys from his pocket, frantically searching for the one that fit the lock on the cast iron shackle that had been on my ankle for four years. The deepest scars I have are on the thin skin covering the knobby bone of my ankle. Whenever he’d drag me, replacing the other end of the chain with a weighted ball, the metal would cut into me. He didn’t care.
To tell the truth, I learned to take that pain and focus on it rather than what he’d do to me.
I didn’t fear much, but that night, when he told me he was giving me to Javier and that I should be good for him, I was terrified. He warned me that I had better not be bad and make him break my arm again. He said I was getting old, and he’d have no use for a Slave with a bum arm. I couldn’t take it anymore. Something inside of me finally snapped.
The fear wasn't fully realized until the lock came off and the weight was lifted from my ankle. I had the fear that I’d never get out. That they’d catch me and slowly torture me. That fear was so strong it nearly crippled me. If I failed to find my freedom, I knew I was dead.
Without the weight on my ankle at night, I tend to wake up feeling the same racing pulse through my blood and fear of death that nearly suffocates me.
I lie back and go still, waiting for the sleep to take me and the memories to fade. It’s this position that I learned to sleep in years ago. Images of Master O and Master C continue to haunt me, causing me to want to toss and turn. But just like all those years ago, I don’t move with the weight on my ankle, holding me in place.
Finally, I close my eyes and try to concentrate on Isaac. His calm, commanding presence. His piercing green eyes. His massive, throbbing cock. My body relaxes as the vision of my possible new Master pushes the other two from my mind. My breathing becomes more stable, and the sweats leave my body as I’m finally able to drift off into a deep sleep.
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