Finn Ch. 11: Forte

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She resisted the urge to grab a fist full of red hair and slam Maddie's head into the wood floor. "I don't think it would be a good fit."

"Why not?" Maddie questioned, her smile disappearing. The excitement in her eyes darkened, reflecting back the offense she took to the statement.

She held Maddie's stare, uncaring of how she felt about the harsh statement. She would never allow him to be given to a domme who's only enjoyment would come from breaking him. And she had be careful not to strip away his masculinity, and she wouldn't allow anyone else to, either. "He's sensitive."

"Those are the best kind!" Maddie exclaimed, smiling again. "They're so easy to humiliate when they're sensitive."

"I have to go meet Lexa." She turned around before Maddie could stop her and tried to maintain her composure as she walked out the door.

She stormed down the hallway then threw open the door to the room Lexa had disappeared into. "He's not going to Maddie!"

"If you keep him you won't have to worry about it," Lexa replied, looking up from her phone.

Why did Lexa have to make it sound like it was her decision? What if he didn't want to be kept? "I don't keep slaves."

Lexa stood up from the couch and went to one of the cabinets. She pulled out a bottle of Patron and two shot glasses then sat on the floor by the coffee table. "Come drink with me."

"Why?"

"Because you need a drink, I need a drink, and unlike our men, we're not on alcohol restriction," Lexa said, filling the two shot glasses to the brim.

She walked over to the table and stared down at her friend. "Why do you need a drink?"

"I always need a drink after I watch a domme get enslaved," Lexa said, then pointed to the other side of the table. "Sit."

She went and sat down on the floor then picked up the shot glass. The clear liquid burned down her throat and Lexa instantly refilled the glass the minute it hit the table. "What is he going to do to her?"

"We all know Master Aaron likes the show of strength and power, but he's bound by the same rules we all are," Lexa said, then emptied her glass again. "And women come from far and wide to spend even an hour in his dungeon so he must be good at whatever it is he does."

"He's not going to Maddie." She took another shot then slammed the glass back down on the table.

Lexa quickly refilled it and her own. They both rocked their heads back then scrunched up their faces until the fire cooled. "What's wrong with Maddie?"

"She's a sadist!" she shrieked, then paused for a moment when the floor moved beneath her. "I won't let him go to a sadist." He would never mentally survive in the hands of a sadist.

Lexa's hand grabbed the Patron bottle. "He likes pain, though."

"Loving pain." She took another shot, her anger subsiding as the warmth in her stomach moved towards her head. "There's a difference."

"Who do you want him to go to?"

Only she knew what he needed. She knew how to take care of him, just how far she could push him and when to bring him back to a safe place. No other domme would know, and what if they weren't interested in learning? "I want him to go to a good home with a kind mistress. He's a good boy. He doesn't need to be beat down."

"Okay. We'll put in the ad approved home only," Lexa said. Her flush face smiled as she raised her glass to her lips.

"And if she doesn't want him anymore she has to give him back to me until another home is found I approve of," she added, noticing the Patron no longer burned when it hit her lips.

Lexa nodded, laughing. "Okay, you get first option of buy back. Anything else? Does he have any bad habits? He's house broken, right?"

"Yes, he's house broken. You can leave him in all day. No crate needed." She laughed but it was more a reaction to the alcohol than a reflex from how she felt inside. "He needs to be kept on a short leash. He does better that way." She pictured his hand reaching for his neck and wondered if he had decided on a collar yet.

"Okay. Anything else?"

"He's not going to Maddie."

"We established that already."

She took another drink, the dim light firing through the diamond on Lexa's finger catching her eye. "Are things the same as they were when you and Ian first got together?"

"What do you mean?" Lexa asked, refilling their drinks.

"Do you still enjoy torturing him? Does he still squirm when you do?"

"They aren't the same." She shook her head then tilted it to the side. "Now they're better. And yes, of course he still squirms, I just now know exactly what to do to make him."

She looked down into her empty glass, watching as it doubled into two. "How are they better?"

Lexa's drooping eyes looked around the room. They glanced up at the bars hanging from the ceiling, then around her shoulder to the Saint Andrew's Cross leaning against the wall behind her. "This is all fake," she said, taking another shot. "It's a game. You and I, we play the game well, but it's still just a game. I walk through the door and get into character. I'm the perfect madame. I have to be. You're the perfect mistress, just like you have to be. And they all behave like the perfect slaves they have to be."

She listened intently, well aware Lexa spoke a truth everyone in the community kept hidden. She grabbed the bottle of Patron and started to refill their glasses. The clear liquid spilled over the table as her hand-eye coordination continued to deteriorate.

"With Ian it's different," Lexa continued, drinking what had managed to make it into her shot glass. "It isn't a game. We go home and he finds comfort in his place, and I find comfort in mine. I can allow the lines to blur anytime I want but the minute I want him back on his knees that's where he goes because that's where he wants to be and that's where I want him. I don't have to worry about him losing respect for me just because sometimes I allow him to take care of me. Just because he's on top of me doesn't mean he's topping me. But here that's how everyone would see it. It isn't who they want me to be."

She attempted to stand up then quickly crashed back down to the floor. She managed to pull herself back into a seated position then looked across the table to Lexa. "He's not going to Maddie."

************

He had been on his knees in his room for almost two hours waiting for her. He was getting worried and repeatedly checked his phone even though it had never rung or dinged. It was already after midnight when he heard someone pounding at the front door. The knocking persisted incessantly while he pulled on pants then made his way down the hallway.

"I can't find my key," she said, shoving her purse at him as soon as he opened the door. The collared slave standing next to her threw his head back, taking a swig of a pretend drink, then smiled. She didn't seem to notice and stumbled her way inside.

"Thanks," he said to the slave, shutting the front door then wrapping his arm around her waist to help her down the hallway. "Did you eat anything, Mistress?" he asked, thinking food may help.

"Yes. Did you?" she asked, putting her hand on the wall for balance as she headed to her room.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Who's pussy did you eat?" She spun around to face him, almost falling over.

"What? No!" he said, shaking his head. "I had a hamburger."

She narrowed her eyes, assessing him for a moment. "You better not be servicing anyone else's pussy," she finally said, then turned and continued staggering towards her room.

He linked his arm through hers to keep her upright. When she reached her bedroom she threw open the door then flopped down stomach first onto the bed. She didn't land in the middle though, so her legs kicked around off the edge.

"Are you going to try to take advantage of me?" she asked, rolling onto her back.

"No, Mistress." He knelt down on the floor and began unzipping her boots.

"Why not? I thought that was your forte."

He smiled. Even in her drunken state she had to know he would never overstep his place. It was true in the past he had his drunken excursions. And many of the women he had them with probably woke up the next morning regretting their decision. But this was different. Not only because he wasn't drunk, but also because he would never want her to wake up the next morning and regret allowing him to touch her.

"Fuck that feels good," she moaned while his hands massaged her legs.

He smiled again. His eyes moved up her thigh to the exposed flesh between her legs. It was a place his mouth now spent many hours but was always eager to go back to. His erection began pushing against his jeans, bringing back memories of the first time she had brought him to the château. It was also the first time he had worn a collar. Even then he hadn't been able to say no to her.

"Do you want to take a shower, Mistress?" he asked, rubbing his thumbs into the soles of her feet. Whenever he was drunk nothing felt better than a hot shower.

"Okay. Where is it?" she said, fumbling with the buttons on her jacket.

"I'll do it, Mistress." He stood up and unbuttoned it, then slid it off her shoulders. She stuck her arms up over her head and he grabbed the hem of her dress and slowly pulled it off. When she went to stand up she stumbled forward.

"Careful," he said, trying to steady her.

"Are you telling me what to do?" she demanded. She tried to shove him away but lost her balance and he grabbed her before she hit the floor.

"Not at all, Mistress." He bit his lip to keep from laughing and they slowly made their way the few steps to the bathroom.

"Get out," she said, trying to push him back out the door.

He knew he may pay for being insubordinate tomorrow, but there was no way he was leaving that bathroom. "I'm sorry, Mistress, but I don't think it's safe for you to shower by yourself."

"Fine, but I have to pee first and I'm not into that so you need to get out," she said, continuing to push her hands against his chest. "There aren't any golden showers in this adventure."

"Okay, that's good to know," he replied, thankful she had limits after all. Especially when it came to that. "Please be careful, though, and let me know when you're done. I'll be right here."

"Stop being so fucking bossy!" she yelled at him through the door.

"Can I come in yet?" he asked when he heard the toilet flush.

"Yes."

He turned the shower on and put his hand underneath the stream, waiting for the water to warm up.

"Okay," he said, grabbing her arm to help her step in.

Goosebumps covered her flesh when she stepped under the flow. "Don't you want to get in here with me?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress."

Her eyes stayed on him while he stripped. When he bent over to push his pants to the floor her will reminded him it was still in its place. Since he had been wearing it the majority of the time for several days now, its presence was no longer as distracting as it had been originally.

He stepped into the shower, grabbing her when she took a wobbly step backwards to make room for him. She reached forward, raking her nails underneath his sac. He grunted and jerked back, hypersensitive due to days of teasing with no release. She laughed and turned away from him, letting the water run over her chest. His hands clenched together, preventing themselves from running over her body without permission. Even though his head knew his need would be left to build up for another day, his body didn't seem to care. It reacted to her every movement and stood out begging for her attention.

He grabbed a pink loofah and poured soap over it then ran it down her back. It was an easy way to manipulate touching her without actually touching her, and in her current state she didn't seem to notice.

"You're such a good boy," she murmured, turning back towards him.

He lathered the soap over her breasts and watched it run down her stomach. Then he scrubbed softly over her stomach to watch it run between and down her legs. He hesitated before moving his hand to where some of the suds still lingered, but decided it would be worth any punishment she could inflict.

"I thought you said you weren't going to take advantage," she said, spreading her legs farther apart while he rubbed the loofah between them.

"I'm just trying to help, Mistress," he replied, hoping she didn't notice his mouth turning up at the corner. He got down to his knees so he could continue down her legs and tried to keep his eyes on her feet when she turned around again. She bent forward just enough to ensure every part of her he loved tasting was visible and only inches from his face. He wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her onto his mouth. She was so close he could taste her already. But he didn't have permission to taste her, not until tomorrow morning.

"Are you ready, Mistress?" he asked, unsure how much longer he could resist keeping his mouth to himself.

"Yes."

He reached forward to turn the water off then grabbed a towel. Her eyes stayed on him while he ran it over her body, diligently making sure no drops were left. When he was certain she was dry he quickly ran it over himself then helped her to her bed.

"Where do you keep your pajamas?" he asked, though he had never seen her wear any.

"Pajamas? I'm thirty years old. I don't wear pajamas." She laughed and crawled under the covers then rolled onto her side to look at him.

He knelt down by her bed, unsure if he should leave. "What time do you want me to wake you up in the morning?" he asked, positive if he woke her up at six thirty she would beat him in a way he wouldn't enjoy.

"Eight..." she said, then furrowed her brow, "...thirty."

"Okay. Eight thirty."

"Where's your collar?" she asked, staring at his neck like she just noticed its absence.

"In my room, Mistress."

"Go get it."

He hurried to his room and grabbed it off the nightstand then knelt down by her bed again and handed it to her. While she buckled it around his neck he wondered if he should remind her she hadn't removed her will. Normally she took it out when they were at home. But when he realized she probably wasn't going to put a chain on him tonight he decided not to.

"You look so sexy in a collar," she told him, running her fingertips over the leather. "Do you know how long I waited to collar you?"

"No, Mistress."

"Twelve years. Fifteen years..." She laughed, looking up to try and calculate in her head. "I don't know. I'm a behaviorist, not a mathematician. What's sixteen minus thirty?"

"I believe thirty minus sixteen is fourteen, Mistress, but I'm not a mathematician, either."

"Okay, well, since neither of us are mathematicians, we'll go with thirteen." She ran her hand through his hair, letting her fingers linger in the short strands.

"Why did you wait so long?"

"Because that's how long it took me to be ready for you." Her hand moved back to his collar, tracing over the metal ring. "I wish you didn't have to leave," she said, her smile fading.

"I don't." He assumed she meant she wanted him to stay with her tonight. He wanted to stay, even if it meant sleeping on the floor by her bed.

"No. I guess not," she said, her eyelids already half closed.

He listened as her breathing evened out, waiting until he was certain she was asleep. Then he went to his room to grab the pillow and blanket off the bed. Sleeping on floors wasn't new to him, but doing it sober was. So was doing it somewhere he actually had a bed he could be sleeping in. But he loved being where he could hear the sound of her breathe.

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AnonymousAnonymous7 months ago

I love this story but it's so much work! Finn is embroiled in this ongoing existential crisis. It's a tense read. But, really well written. It makes me think of so many things, not least the allure and addicting nature of fantasy, this relationship, witchy women like Morgan, the thrills and perils of femdom, whether or not erotica is kind of bad for you, and so much more. I read a femme fatale noir novel called Sunburn, by Laura Lippmann, recently, and the protagonist Polly, reminds me of Morgan in a way. This story punches way above most other femdom stories, it is both enticing and disturbing.

AnonymousAnonymous8 months ago

Thank you for another amazing chapter

AnonymousAnonymous8 months ago

He is becoming more and more pathetic. He is losing his essence, he’s turning into a piece of clay.

ioan1234ioan1234about 3 years ago

I don't know for which time I'm re-reading this series, but I love them. It makes me burn from the inside in a good way. I love it! Great series!

VancouverManVancouverManalmost 5 years ago
Loved it

One of the best!!!!

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