Eros and Psyche Ch. 01-03

"Yes." I whined and whimpered. "Yes, Sir."

He grabbed a small duffle bag and shuffled me out the door. Then he opened my car door and I slid in. Then I felt the pulsing of the little toy inside me. "My little slut will have to get off on that g-spot vibrator for now, won't she? She's just such a needy whore that anyone could walk by and see what a slut for my cock she is." He lifted my dress and put a small cloth down.

"So fucking eager. How will you get through the next week or two before that little pussy gets properly fucked? Imagine, little nymph, if I took you outside right now and made you get on all fours so I could fuck you like a proper whore. Would you scream? Would you stop me? But I'd know what that wet little cunt needs, and I know you're cock-hungry slut." And the pulsing picked up speed. I didn't care who saw or heard, all I knew was that I had to get off.

"Oh my god, that feels so good." I was melting into ecstasy. I was so close...

He grabbed me by the hair and put my head on his shoulder. "Are you going to show me how much you like that?"

"Yes, oh!" I shrieked, the sound muffled by him as I pulsed around the toy. "Oh my god, that was..." I had no words for the exquisite perfection of that orgasm.

"Did you enjoy yourself? Must have, since my neighbors could have walked out and seen your wet panties and orgasm face and you didn't care." His grin was boyishly wicked. I glared at him while I pulled my dress back down as he backed out his driveway. "What? It's true."

When we arrived, Vivek's friends seemed excited to meet us. Jess was excited that my dress - which apparently she helped Vivek choose - fit me and that I liked it. And her husband-to-soon-be James seemed excited that Vivek found a woman.

"Do you want a tour or should we just leave you alone?" I was slightly embarrassed, but they didn't seem to notice that I had a toy inside of me.

"I - I'd love a tour. I'm new to all of this."

"So this is the table of impact instruments. We like the whips and especially the canes. If you're into pain, it depends on what type of pain you enjoy." I swear I turned red to the roots of my hair. There were several canes, whips of different lengths, and some paddles. "And there are the two crosses, if you're interested in bondage. And the bondage star - I really like the star because it sets the tone for the aesthetic we're going for here. There's the kitchen, and we put snacks out when we host parties here. And here -" Jess walked up to the smaller podium "I serve tea, while James sits up there." She pointed to the chair, wrinkling her nose.

"What do you mean, the type of pain I enjoy?"

"Hold out your hand and I'll strike you with them. You'll see what I mean."

Jess tried the flogger - which was a bunch of leather strips with a handle - first. It was a dull pain. "That usually brings blood to the surface of your skin." She struck me again, just a little harder. I could see James and Vivek watching us from across the room. Then she brought a wood paddle down. "That's a dull, thuddy pain." Then she picked up a bamboo cane. "And this -" I gasped when she brought it down on the open palm of my hand. "That's a sharp pain, right? See how fast I moved it compared to the flogger and paddle? The speed and thinness are part of why that stings. That would be considered stingy, if you'd like the official terms. Thuddy and stingy"

"Thud is about the mass and density. Sting is about speed and lightness." said James, walking over to spoon his fiancé from behind. "Between the two of us, we like stinging because it's more about grace and elegance."

Vivek took my hand. "She's never done pain before."

It was already magical when he expressed care in private. For him to do so publicly, with a new woman, especially since men so often act hard and cold in public because that's what society expects was another level of magic. "Yes, thank you, Jess. And thank you for letting us use your space."

"Oh, that's what it's here for. Have fun, kids. Don't do everything we would do yet," replied James as they left.

Vivek kissed me when they left. "You're lucky I didn't turn the toy on again when Jess was striking you. Watching you flinch was sexy. Now take off that dress and that toy out."

I took it off, and flinched as I pulled the toy out. "Good girl. Now, cutie pie, I've been really sweet and very gentle with you. But that's about to change. Take the rest of it off too."

"What do you mean, change -"

He grabbed me by the hair and wound a hand around my throat. "You want it rough, little nympho whore? I'm going to give you what you asked for."

"No, please -"

"Shh, it's okay. I suggest you stop fighting me if you know what's good for you." He took my bra off in a matter of seconds.

Genuine fear made me as cold as my arousal made me hot. "Please don't hurt me. I - I'm new to this."

"Well, sweetheart, you better learn quick."

I knew the broad strokes of what he was doing. But the panic, fear, and arousal at the unknown still scared me. I dropped to my knees and tried to crawl away from him. "What do you think you're doing?" He was on top of me, holding me by the waist. He pulled my panties to my knees, and spread my pussy open. "Only a slut would be this wet." Then he pulled me onto his lap and spanked my ass, hard. I shrieked and went still. "You're a very naughty girl, taking all these orgasms and getting so much pleasure from acting like a wanton little whore, aren't you?"

I shivered. "Y-yes, Sir. I'm a little whore." I parroted back, obediently, the way he liked.

"Now thank me after each spank. Then I'll introduce you to some real pain."

"No, please -" I shrieked as his hand smacked my ass again.

And reflexively, I obeyed. "Thank you, Sir." And again, and again, and again.

Then he lifted me up, pulling off my panties as he threw me over his shoulder. "Please, please be gentle," I whisper, voice choking in fear.

"Oh, but my little nymph, you want it rough and you want to be forced. So take what you asked for."

He made me stand on the slats of one of the crosses. Then he secured me, facing away from, first my wrists, then my upper arms, then my thighs, and lastly my ankles. Then I felt the flogger, gentle pain all over my ass.

I gasped when he abruptly penetrated me, then moved his fingers back to gently circling my clit. He gently circled, making me hold my breath in anticipation, then he very gently pinched, making me gasp in delight. Each little iteration took me higher and higher, until I screamed as I orgasmed for him.

Then, as I was still shivering with aftershocks, I heard a whizzing through the air and felt some sharp and focused land on the center of my ass. My sighs turned into a screech of agony. "Oh, oh, please -"

"Shhh, little slut. I've been very patient and gentle with you. Now you're going to learn what it really means to be my submissive slut. You'll take pain when I want to give it to you. And you'll learn to love it, and you'll learn that your greatest pleasure is giving me pleasure."

I shrieked as I heard the cane slice the air again before landing slightly higher on my ass, leaving behind a stripe of pain. Then he went lower, and lower still, striking the tops of my thighs. I screamed, and finally tears came to my eyes.

"No, please stop." I sobbed. He came around, so I could see him clearly, see how gracefully and elegantly he handed the cane. He sliced it through the air in a perfect X as I shivered and winced. Then he struck across my chest. He approached me from the left, and struck straight across my nipple. Then my right.

He carefully set the cane down, and pinched both of my nipples. I shrieked again, but a different feeling was starting in me...I felt a weird giddiness that made me want to giggle and scream. Like the way you might feel going down on a roller coaster or something else that was equal parts fear and thrill ride. He pinched a little harder, twisted a little, and oh my god...it felt like...I threw my head back in laughter. "There we go, nympho slut. Look at you. Taking your first caning and you're drenched and giddy for me." He teased the cane up my slippery, soaked slit as I gasped and shivered. Then he playfully rained little smacks there, harder and harder until I screamed. "I can't use this hole yet, my little nymph, but maybe I can give it a little pain instead?" I didn't know whether to beg him to do it or beg him to stop. Then he struck just a little harder so that I laughed in painful delight. It was such a weird, amazing feeling, like my brain went spacey and relaxed in the best possible way. I felt so delicate and floaty.

He twirled around, and I felt the cane strike my ass again as I shrieked. And then the other side. Then he went the other direction, as I realized he was marking my ass with an 'X', with my asshole as the center. Oh my god, he was that controlled and methodical about it. I let the spacey, floaty take over, even as I laughed and cried, it was just - the best, most relaxed feeling. I completely let go, because I could trust him. How could I not, when he was so careful and thoughtful about this? And over and over he danced with the cane, striking my ass. Then one final, hard blow, dead center again, right where he started.

In that moment, he seemed to me one of the gods, and I had given him my body as a form of worship. It was his to use. I lost that sense of self, a sort of death of ego and logic, and the birth of myself as a person who wanted to grasp all of the emotions, in all of their glory and terror. It ceased to be a game or play, and became real.

He carefully held me as he removed all the cuffs that held me tight against the wooden cross. I shivered in his arms as he held me tight. "What do you think, little nymph?" I let him hold me tightly for several moments before I could speak again.

All of my fears and anxieties had disappeared just then. They'd return, milder, but in those moments with him, they cease as they ceased then. Everything was floaty but crystal clear. "You love me."

"Yes, of course. I didn't want to pressure you with declarations of love. But yes, I wouldn't train you in this way if it weren't for love. I feel happy with you. You don't see me through the veil of accomplishments, but you don't not see them either. You see me. And you love me for me."

"Yes, of course. I knew I loved you on Wednesday, when I cried and you said you felt romantic."

"Brave girl." He kissed my forehead.

I stretched, feeling languid and sensual. "I hurt but I feel so good and floaty."

"Subspace. That's the name for that floaty feeling."

He let me roll over, and I laid on my back, knees up and legs spread. "I want you to fuck me so much. I want to know what your cock feels like inside my mouth and my p-pussy -" I had never said that word out loud before " -and I want to feel that closeness to you."

"I know, little nympho slut. You already had two orgasms today, greedy girl. You should know that when I fuck you, it won't be your terms and it won't be what you expect." He was looking between my spread legs, seeing how fucking drenched his threat got me.

Chapter Three

When I started this story, I thought Vivek would just be a controlling dom. But as I was writing their story, he revealed that he uses pain and sadism as other mechanisms to control his little submissive, and Carys loves that side of him too.

CW: CNC (read "Ch02) for how consent was established, male domination, pain, emotional and verbal degradation, canes and bondage. They also discuss racism from an anti-racist POV.

"Carys, we heard you have a boyfriend." That was my mom. I sighed. My sister must have told them.

"Yes."

"Your sister said he's in tech and doing alright. And you like him a lot?"

"Yes." I knew the 'but' was coming.

"But -" There it was! The literal word, too! "- he's Asian Indian?"

"Well, he's Indian-American, but yes. He's also perfectly nice and thoughtful and I'd like to get to know him better." I knew better than to tell them how there was something different about him or how excited I was about him to persuade them.

"I'm sure he's a lovely person. Carys, you know it will be hard to mix the families. And if you get married and have kids, you know." Well, that wasn't too terrible.

"I'm sure it will be. But it's only been a few months. Marriages and kids are a long way off. It would be worthwhile to me to marry and have kids with someone who is a good person even if he's a person of color." I gritted my teeth, knowing they were trying to be gentle and their concern was not malicious.

"Alright. Well, if you think so..." There was a reason I hadn't dwelled much in the realm of emotions before Vivek. My family didn't talk much, and we certainly didn't linger over feelings.

When Vivek and I had a longer conversation after training on Wednesday, his response was: "They have a point. Did I tell you how when I went to elementary school in the Peninsula, I was put in average classes, earned B's and C's, and was kicked off of school grounds routinely, by teachers? Then, we moved to a better school district and I was put into accelerated reading classes immediately. I became a straight A student, and had the standardized test scores to match."

I stared up at him. "No, that's awful."

"Yeah. If we had stayed, my entire life could have been different. And, if you choose a future with me..."

"Then we move to a better school district if that's the answer. Which is terrible. It's a thing that will have to be dealt with if and when it happens. I'm not so much of a coward I'd run off over something like that."

"Something tells me you really mean that, or maybe I'm hopeful that you do."

"I was wondering if experiences like that maybe are why you like control and power? That must have made you feel very powerless."

"Yes, and the self-control and drive to success to prove myself worthy. People raised to be men are taught to seek power and control, and that desire is stronger in me." And of course, in him was the mentality that's common to children of immigrants, that your parents sacrificed so that you might have a brighter future.

"I wonder why I love it so much."

"My theory is you studied the past and went into academia to escape the world and real feeling. So 'it' lets me ease you into feelings, and I do things to soothe your anxieties. And going from being a reserved professor to someone who has intense feelings is a lot, which is why we're going so slowly. But it's hot to watch you make porn for me." He grinned at me.

His analysis of me was true, but I was driven by a thirst for knowledge that until now had superseded other desires in my life. The training was a desire for knowledge. Through it, I learned about myself, my depth of my sexuality, and about him. He was and is for me one of the most fascinating people I'd ever met. Learning about him made me picture turning a prism in my hand, because when I looked at different angles and contexts, I'd see different facets of him. And it was hot to make porn for him.

"It feels so right. It's also escaping into the dynamic. It feels so real too."

He kissed me very gently. "I told my parents. To make things equal."

"What did they say?"

"Typical questions. They liked that you were educated. They reminded me that you don't know about their 'culture'. I said I already made Indian food for you. They were happy you liked it. Speculation on how we'd raise our imaginary children." He made silly, annoyed faces at me.

"We haven't even had sex yet, and our parents are already imagining babies," I complained. Now, I wonder if telling our parents so early ramped up the seriousness of our commitment and relationship. It made us think about things we wouldn't have been thinking about so early otherwise.

"Well, maybe you'll get to practice some baby-making soon," he joked.

"But I have been practicing," I whined. Earlier that night, I had practiced my blow job skills, and read some very explicit literature.

"Since you have my door code, do you want to share yours?"

"Sure."

He smiled. "Before you leave tonight. Now, take everything but your panties off."

I moved to obey. He took a thing from a drawer. It was - there was a sort of short metal pole intersected by another short metal pole. From the horizontal pole dangled two metal things.

"This is a tower of pain. These -" he touched the metal things " - are Japanese clover clamps." I stared at them. Dear god, they looked so much more cruel in real life.

He placed the flat plastic piece against my sternum. I shivered in excited, fearful anticipation. He opened one of those clamps against my left nipple as I held my breath. And he closed it. And I knew it would hurt, but I was woefully unprepared for how much. I screamed and that scream turned to a giddy shriek as I sucked air through my teeth and an awful bitter taste filled my mouth because it hurt so damned much.

"Breath, little nympho slut. Deep breaths." He ran his thumb along my lash lines, wiping away the tears. "You're a very good little masochist for accepting this, aren't you?"

"Y-yes, Sir," I chattered. He petted my hair until I stopped. The pain was still there, but now it felt almost good. It was a feeling so extreme and so unlike anything I'd felt before that I wanted to continue feeling it, to explore it some more.

Then the next one. That one made tears fall. "Good girl," he said as I adjusted. Then he tightened, so that the clamps pulled my nipples. I squealed again, rising and dancing with that pain. "That's such a sexy little sound, nymph girl."

His calm, distant attitude in contrast to me chattering, shivering, panting, and nearly fucking orgasming from the extremity of that beautiful torture. His cool made me turn even hotter with arousal. "I noticed that your nipples were very sensitive when I was caning them, and I thought it would be really fun to make them hurt more. And since you're having your period, I'm sure they really hurt." You'd never guess from his voice that he was torturing my pink nipples, making them red with pain. He cupped my breasts, which were more sensitive and full than usual.

"Please, it hurts so much." I begged, my nipples feeling pinched, stretched, and pulled at the very edge of my capacity, and feeling like I'd go mad because his cool control made me more of a horny slut than ever.

"I know. You're a very good little nymph and you make me very happy." It finally hit me that he was using praise, as he called it on that first night, whenever we did something new and painful or new and degrading. His praise was another form of control.

"Y- you're - you're complimenting me so I'll accept more of this."

"Yes, that's part of how I'm training you. Over time, you'll need less of it, because you'll know that you're my good little nymph and you'll know that you please me without needing confirmation in words. As for your training, the first week, it was mostly submission. You have some innate submissive tendencies that I picked up quickly. Now and in the dungeon, we're exploring pain, and sado-masochism. But I want to give that to you myself. You'll notice that I don't give you painful assignments. I administer all the pain."

"W--w-why is that?"

"You're so much more vulnerable now. You've felt a lot in the last ten minutes, haven't you? Look at you: you're crying, screaming, giddy, excited, and scared. And like with sex, mostly naked and horny. It feels so intensely personal, doesn't it?"

I nodded, what he said made a lot of sense. "A-are you wearing the cage?"

"Yes." Knowing that made me feel more obscene, more of a whore. I couldn't even see if I was making him hard and horny. Maybe he wasn't, maybe I was an undisciplined slut shivering with arousal.