Hela... is Ch. 03 - Mortality

I put more pressure on his chest, moving up and down his cock quicker, but still maintaining my grip on him. His breathing increased, coming from his lungs in rapid gasps. Leaning forward I gripped his nipples and squeezed. I just couldn't resist the temptation. So many times in the past and I couldn't stop myself. A cry escaped his lips. Unmistakable. Pain mixed with pleasure. Whether he had realised or not he did want what I could give him. I gripped, squeezed, and twisted. The same cry. But unmistakably the pleasure was more than the pain, and the smile remained.

This was my true nature. This was me. A domme was always on top. Control. That was me and riding him was control.

"Open your eyes."

The smile changed to a grin. "That was a surprise. Something new. Unexpected but enjoyable."

"I haven't finished yet." My grin matched his own.

My speed increased, as did his breathing, and I decided to show him who was really in control. He was going to come. Quickly. Not because he wanted it. But because I wanted it. It was my nature. To be in control. To decide what was going to happen and when. His sperm flooded into me, protection no longer important. He had got what he wanted. To a degree. But more importantly I got what I wanted.

I lay beside him and we fell asleep. It was dark outside when we woke but when I looked for the time it wasn't yet midnight. Too late for dinner but eating was the last thing on our minds at that moment.

"A shower?" he said, and I nodded. I think it was something we both needed. The water was warm and comforting, as was our soaping each other, facing each other, then with my breasts rubbing his back, the feel of his length against my ass, and then towel drying each other. Walking back into the bedroom he accidentally collided with his case, balanced on a stool, knocking it to the floor, causing it to open and spill its contents.

Something unmistakable fell out. He looked at it. He looked at me. Uncertainty on his face. I looked at it. I looked at him. A butt plug lay on the floor. A large butt plug. A butt plug large enough it couldn't have been the first one he'd used.

I had brought a case and a hold-all into the room. A hold-all I always carried with me. Without a word I emptied the contents onto the bed. Handcuffs, a harness, a selection of plastic cocks in different sizes, a crop, a selection of whips, nipple clamps and chains. Plus a couple of bottles of lube.

His face was a picture. Amazement, surprise, desire. He was a submissive. Obviously as far as being fucked in the ass was concerned. I decided to give him the satisfaction he wanted. Plus more. But not just yet.

"Climb on the bed. Lay on your stomach." He obeyed me but hesitantly. "Do it. Do it now," I said, my firm voice leaving no doubt who was in charge. Mistress Hela had entered the room.

He climbed onto the bed.

"Spread your arms and legs towards the corners of the bed." He was still hesitant but he obeyed. I snapped the cuffs on and fastened them to the legs of the bed with rope. Not too tight. Loose enough to give a little bit of movement as he struggled once I began.

"This is something you've dreamed about isn't it bitch. Something you've wanted but afraid of what it would be like? Tell me."

He remained silent. He knew what I was talking about but was unwilling to acknowledge the truth. I picked up the crop and cut into his ass with a single strike. One stroke. One scream. That was all it took.

"Yes. Yes, Yeess. It's what I've wanted for as long as I can remember."

"There. That wasn't too bad was it? Now I intend to please you. Satisfy all your cravings. But first..." While talking to him I'd reached for the ball gag and had it in his mouth, and fastened behind his head before he realised what was happening. "Can't have your screams annoying the neighbours can we? They might think you're being attacked and call the cops. How embarrassing would that be? Not for me. But for you. Tied to a bed whilst a dominatrix whips you?"

The crop came down again. I struck one ass cheek and the the other alternating between the two. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. I stopped at fifty, put the crop back in the case, and picked up the multi tailed tawse. I grasped him by the hair, turning his head towards me. "What do you think of this? Nice isn't it? Those leather fronds will mark the skin on your back in a splendid pattern. Look at the tails as they slide through my hands. So soft but able to take the skin off your back." I could see the tears forming in his eyes before I'd even begun and the fear in his eyes.

I stepped back ready to strike. To his surprise my first stroke wasn't as hard as with the crop, as was the second and the third and the fourth. I could feel, without touching him but by watching his body he was starting to relax. Through his mind would be going the thoughts this wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. I gave him a couple more similar strokes before I struck him as harshly as anyone could do. His body arched, pulling against the ropes, trying to free himself from the handcuffs, and his scream muffled by the gag. He twisted his body left and right but couldn't escape

I might not be a true sadist but it's difficult to describe how I felt with the dampness between my thighs and two of my fingers thrust into my cunt. I struck him again and again, the leather fronds biting into his back, blood leaking through his skin. Bliss. Absolute bliss. For me. I knew if it was really something he wanted, if he really was a pain slut, then it would be the same for him.

I undid the cuffs and the ball gag. Looked at the red rings around his wrists. I didn't think we would be needing them again.

"Bend over the bed, please." Please was not a word I would normally use in a situation like this. It was something a domme would never say. But the conditions weren't the usual domme and sub situation so allowances needed to be made.

"You've been fucked with a strapon?" Just to make sure he understood what was going to happen, I added, "before today?"

His answer was simple. "No."

"Do you want to be fucked?" I was really wanting to get into that beautifully smooth ass. My mind was struggling to stop myself from pouncing on him like a hungry lioness.

"Yes. That's why I use the butt plug. It started a few months ago. I've wanted to be fucked. I've seen mistresses advertising but I've never plucked up the courage to contact them."

It was strange to see this previously confident man now fidgeting nervously waiting for my next question.

I selected the smallest cock in my collection, fastened on the harness, slipped the cock through the opening and clicked the press stud. I applied lube liberally to help it enter him with as much ease as possible but, because of the butt plug, and it was my smallest, I knew it wouldn't hurt as much as it always did with a virgin ass. But it would hurt!

"Lean forward. Head down and ass in the air. Reach behind and pull your ass cheeks apart. Even though you've been using a butt plug this will hurt. Try and relax and open your sphincter, as you do when you're inserting the butt plug. It will make it easier."

He followed my instruction about his cheeks and I spread the lube around his butt hole, inserted a finger and worked it in, then two fingers which went in easily. Three fingers were more difficult, despite the stretching done by the butt plug, but it had to be done. Normally I wouldn't be this considerate to a sub. A sub experiencing pain when first penetrated is one of those things which does turn me on. But a lot of things about being a domme turn me on. I positioned myself and pushed, forcing my way past his sphincter, hearing him whimper, and then pausing to allow him to get used to me.

"Okay. I've just got the head of my cock inside you and I'm going to push in further. Try to relax. Breathe."

There was a grunted response that sounded like yes.

I pushed steadily until I had four inches in and then slowly pulled back until only the tip was inside.

"You okay?" As much as he wanted it, and as much as I wanted to fuck him, I didn't get any enjoyment out of fucking someone if it was causing them agony. As against pain.

He forced the words out. "Yeah. Keep going. It hurts but it's bearable. It's what I want. Keep going." His knuckles were white as he clutched the bedclothes.

The tension was in his words and in his body but there was no doubt, in my mind, he was telling the truth. He wanted to be fucked.

Slowly I built up a rhythm until I had all six inches inside him and there was no more pain, just pleasure. I'd fucked enough guys in my time to know when they were enjoying it and he was definitely enjoying it now. I'd chosen my starter cock, one inch thick, which was now sliding back and forth with ease so I decided to select a bigger one. I sensed his disappointment at my removing myself but it disappeared when he saw me select a larger replacement.

"Ready?" I asked, not caring whether he was ready or not, "because this one is going to hurt. The last one went in easy but this one is longer and thicker. The longer length won't make much difference, but the thickness will."

It is one thing for a sub to have an eagerness, an anticipation, for something they've wanted to experience for a long time, but there is an onus on someone like me, with vast experience, to try and make sure someone like Lucas knows exactly what they are getting into.

He hesitated before he spoke. "I want this. Please."

There was a plaintive tone to his voice which seemed to say he'd waited long enough to have his desire satisfied and he was going to go ahead, no matter what. There would be consequences, one of which would be an inability to walk normally for a while. That was something, no matter how much I liked him, I was going to make sure was going to be the outcome.

I pulled his cheeks apart and placed the head of my phallus at the entrance to my target. Gently, but firmly, I pushed past his sphincter and heard him grunt.

Slowly I moved further into him and I'd successfully got three inches in when a sound that definitely wasn't pleasure came from him. "Do you want me to pull out?" He shook his head. "Would you like me to hold still for a short while so you can get used to the size?" I got an enthusiastic nod.

I relaxed, let my hands rest each side of his waist, but made sure I neither pushed nor pulled and idly looked round the bedroom. Typical motel. Neutral and bland walls and curtains, decent quality carpet to allow for the considerable number of feet using it, and basic furniture. On the other side of the room a desk with a straight backed chair and a small coffee table with two padded chairs. Cheap tv on the wall opposite the bed.

I felt his body move, pushing back towards me, and suddenly realised I wasn't sure how long my mind had wandered. His body was relaxed and his breathing was easy.

"Do you want me to carry on?"

"Yes. Please," he said, in a voice clear of uncertainty or anxiety. "The pain has gone. But please take it slow. How much more is there to go in?"

"About five inches."

"Another five inches! I'm not sure I can take that much!" The anxiety had returned.

"If you can't take any more than is in at the moment that's okay. I won't force you." I'd been in this position before and was certain he, like many before, would take it all, enjoy it and want more. Whatever he said he was past the point of no return even if he didn't realise it. He wanted to be fucked and I was going to satisfy his need.

I commenced pushing and eventually had every inch fully inside and my fake balls hard against his skin. It had taken several minutes, longer than I would normally take, but he wasn't experienced and I wanted him to look back on his first session with fond memories.

"How much more? Is it nearly in?" The question had a air of desperation.

"It's all in. It's all been in for about a minute. How do you feel?"

He laughed. "Full. This is different from a butt plug. The first one didn't feel much different except it was a bit longer. But this one..." He paused, searching for the words. "To coin a phrase, I feel completely shafted." His body shook as the laughter took control.

His body started moving in unison with my thrusts, he raised himself onto his arms and pushed back into me, jumping when I suddenly smacked him on the ass.

"Ouch! You bitch!"

"Bitch?" I smacked him again on each cheek, and kept slapping him. "You're the bitch now. My bitch. I'm your Mistress. Mistress Hela. From now on that's how you address me and don't forget it. Don't try to make me believe you're not enjoying it. Here's something else to enjoy." I dug my fingers into the inside of his thighs, making sure the nails sank into his skin, resulting in a squeal of delight at the pain and he thrust back trying to drive me further into him.

"Get up on the bed." I commanded. I pulled out and as he went to climb on the bed I shoved him hard causing him to collapse on to his stomach. "Get on your knees, faggot," I yelled. "Get your ass up. Higher! Head down into the bed." He was slow so I yelled again, "I said get you ass up! " If anyone was in the adjacent rooms they would have heard but I didn't care.

As I was screaming at him I was using the flogger on his ass turning his skin even redder. He eventually had his ass high enough for me to be able to enter him whilst I was on bent knees.

"Keep your fucking ass up, you worthless piece of shit."

All I could hear from him were moans and grunts. I put the handle of the flogger between his teeth, a hand either side, and pulled him back against the cock in his ass until I threw myself forward pushing himself onto his stomach. "Lie still, asshole. Don't move." Not that he could move with me on top of him. I lifted myself off his body, supported myself with my arms, and thrust all the way in, again and again.

"I...hope...you...are...enjoying...yourself...you...worthless...piece...of...shit...because...I am."

Each word was accompanied by a savage thrust, as hard as I could, all the way into him. "I'm going to wreck your rectum, bitch," I whispered in his ear as I lay on his back. That was quite funny, I thought, as I nibbled his ear and asked, "how's it going, bitch? Enjoying yourself?"

"Yes. Yes." He managed to get the words out, but not without a struggle.

"Yes what, moron?"

I pulled out, grabbed him by his hair and yanked him off the bed and onto the floor. "Yes? Yes? Haven't you forgotten something," I growled as I picked up the flogger. One swift lash across his back was all it required to remind him of his position.

"Yes thank you...Mistress Hela." The words coming out as quickly as he could get his tongue to work.

I laid on my back and motioned him over to me. "I want you astride me and lowering yourself onto my cock." He looked surprised. "You've been ridden cowgirl. Now you're going to find out what it feels like. So get mounted, Cowboy." He lowered himself slowly and sat there with my nine inches firmly wedged inside him. "Well?" I said."

"Well what...Mistress?" he said, nervously.

"Get to work. Ride'em Cowboy! I've been doing all the work up to now. Now it's your turn. Start fucking yourself." I gave him a quick thrust as an incentive.

He began slowly lifting himself up and down, but it couldn't have been much more than an inch. With my head back I couldn't see.

"Pull one of those pillows off the bed so I can rest my head on it," I commanded. He was quick to follow my instruction.

"Now get back to fucking yourself." He went to put his hands on my stomach to give himself more leverage. "What the fuck do you think you're doing," I yelled. "Keep your fucking hands off me. I've helped you enough. Now you're going to help yourself. Get started, and I want to see at least five inches of cock as your ass lifts."

I knew that wouldn't happen but I needed to give him a target. If he got above two inches I'd be surprised. Although I'd been mostly putting all the effort in up to now his body, and his mind, had to be feeling the effects.

"Yes, Mistress."

After only a couple of minutes I could see he was wavering and, before he could fall over, I sat up and put my arms around him. "Good boy," I said. "I wouldn't normally have put a newbie through all that but I wanted it to be as memorable for you as it is for me."

"It will certainly be memorable," he gasped. "I feel as though I've just run ten miles and then been hit by a truck. I wonder how far it is to the nearest hospital? I think I need to be put on life support."

His words, and his grin, told me all I needed to know about how much he'd enjoyed himself.

"I think sleep is calling. Actually, I think it's shouting at me." With that he climbed onto the bed, not having the energy to lift the covers, and within seconds was asleep.

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

It's weird sometimes how things from your past, entirely unconnected with the present, slip into your mind. As I lay next to Lucas, who was definitely fast asleep, while drifting away myself my mind wandered back to my first solo assignment. I didn't choose to go solo. It was my mentor who decided. He said it had to happen one day and he considered me ready. Everything was still as clear in my mind as the day it happened.

I was to take out a guy named Frank Marcus, an African-American gangster who operated out of Harlem. A nasty, and many would say psychotic, guy but not in his presence or if they thought it would get back to him. It was definitely not a good idea to get on his bad side. Even people who had thought they were his friends found out he could be ruthless if he even suspected someone had turned against him. He didn't need proof, only his own suspicions, for someone to be found guilty and sentenced to the usual fate.

I had tailed him for a week and had decided the best opportunity was the day he went to his favourite restaurant for lunch. So the next time he was there I was laid on the roof of a hotel two hundred yards away. I could have taken the shot from further away but I wanted to be absolutely certain although it meant putting myself more at risk. The barrel of my rifle was supported on the tripod, the butt resting against my shoulder, and as I waited for him I used other exiting customers to tweak my sights. It's not the most comfortable position, laying on a concrete roof, but my custom made jacket had specially designed pads in the elbows. It had been made so well when I was stood up you couldn't tell they were there.

I knew he was about to leave when his car drew up and a piece of 'beef-without-a-brain' got out and opened the rear passenger door. These guys didn't seem to understand having a routine made it so much easier for people like me. Two more bodyguards stepped out of the restaurant, one each side of the door, and then Frank himself. As usual he stopped to speak to Joey, the doorman, and hand him his usual twenty dollar tip. Then he collapsed. To be fair to his guys, they were pretty quick in realising he'd been shot and one of them started shouting for para-medics. I would have thought the neat round holes above each ear as the bullet passed through his head would have given them the clue he was no longer of this world.

Seventeen seconds to dismantle my rifle and stow it in my backpack. I knew, without looking at my watch, because it was now, after hours and hours of practice, seventeen seconds every time. I walked down three floors before entering the elevator and three minutes after taking the shot I was opposite the restaurant, looking like the typical New York student, apparently wondering what was happening just like all the other rubberneckers.