Ashen Master Pt. 02

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.

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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.

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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.

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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. My Master opened the cage door and when I crawled out, his hand was automatically around my throat, stroking my collar. I looked up at him, horny and eager to be in his hands after the long night. Whatever he saw of my gaze seemed to intensely please him because he stroked my hair back.

"Good morning, little Pet. Let's go over how you greet me." He pulled me close to his waist and I automatically knew what he wanted. "As a sexual slave, you'll be serving my cock rather often. It's better you get used to that now." I groaned because that was something I very much wanted to be used to. I kissed him and stroked him over the fabric of his jeans, until he undressed enough to free himself. "Open up." I obeyed that before he even finished speaking, taking him in my mouth greedily, eagerly. Because it felt right to be stuffed full of toys with his dick down my throat, and I could take him much easier after I had fed on the toy mold for so long the night before.

Blowing him was something I already enjoyed doing because I knew after his training that I was good at it. He held me with a hand around the back of my head and one on my neck while I worked him, using both hands to stroke his balls and his cock when it wasn't fully in my mouth and down my throat. It was unlike my having blown anyone else, too, hotter than some of the sex I'd even had. Every movement of my head only served to make me hornier for him, make me greedier, make me higher from subspace. He drove me wild and I never wanted his hand to leave my throat, but I'd settle for the collar holding me encased, for the chastity belt holding me heated.

"Jesus Christ." Wild pleasure whipped through me at the sound of his growl and I lifted, moaning around him when he finished. I swallowed automatically and when he pulled me away he kept his hand over my collar, lifted my face with his thumb under my jaw. For a while he just stared into my eyes, as if he felt too feral from seeing me kneel, and needed to calm himself. "Good girl. It's time for that belt to come off, then for a shower and cleaning you. I warn you that you won't like it and if you struggle, I'll punish you. Understood?"

I nodded, accepting that as part of my fate, something that came from being a slave. And he was right, I hated it. Well, I hated it at first. The slave's shower was a set of chains that he tethered me with, by my cuffs. He bathed me with a sprayer that made me shiver with cold, while calmly demanding that I stay with my legs spread open still. When I didn't comply with that to his liking, he silently used the spreader bar to give me practice. It was awful, until he stroked the shampoo and conditioner into my hair.

And then I couldn't think about what I liked or disliked anymore. His touch returned me back to that special place where it was his pleasure that ruled me, his control that was perfect. I fell back under those dark waves, wondering why I had struggled against them in the first place. The enema afterwards was worse, but I lay in the floor and trembled while he gave it to me. He watched me release it, watched me piss, watched everything while I blushed in furious humiliation.

He fed me, too, and he had already promised that breakfast was the one time I wouldn't have a cock feeder. Instead, it was a kind of nutritional oatmeal, nearly flavorless and probably insanely healthy for me.

But he had a daily routine of his own and he had work he had to do. For that, he chained me over the medical table. "You'll be in the spreader bar, remembering the way I want you to be open for me, since you had trouble in the shower." That made me whimper a little since the bar could hurt after a while, but he wasn't done after that.

No, once he had me helplessly spread open and chained, he used a lubricant and a butt plug that made me tearful. Whatever the lubricant was, it felt hot, like peppermint burning me without pause. When the plug seated, I was already shivering in pain. And he made it worse by stroking that oil into my ass, the one from my very first punishment. This time, he gave me a belting instead of the paddle. For extra measure, he blindfolded me and left me in pure hellish sensation. It wasn't long before I learned that setup was what waited for me if I tried to close myself, or cover myself, from him. I was to always be open and never fight and that message became very clear.

Routines. Rules. When I heard the door open again, I tensed with both fear and joy. I felt his hand in my hair and his cool voice, ever so calm, commanding me. "Kiss my cock hello." And it was becoming very clear that being degraded did something for me, because I had left a mess on the floor that he made me clean up when he freed me from my bondage. I cowered at his feet and licked it up, like a dog.