It's Always the Quiet Ones Pt. 02

She squealed when I flicked the whip again, spreading her legs so wide to give me better access even when she trembled at the anticipation. It was the same way someone might want to stand in line for a terrifying roller coaster, the same way they might wait even longer to ride in the front seat so they could anticipate and feel more fear. Thrill was practically pulsing through her, so much of it that it infected me. I teased the whip up her thigh to hear her moan, sadistically chuckling a little when she spread and shook. And then I flicked her again and she arched with bliss at the pain, at the exhilaration, at the subspace. But I could only stripe her twice more before she was thrashing, her whole body shaking with the effort of trying to not orgasm. "Please, please! I can't hold, I- I'm so close and I'm trying and please-"

"Shh." I set the whip on the floor beside her and stroked her hair. "Deep breaths." But even while I said that, I thrust my tongue between her lips, kissing her brutally while she moaned into my mouth because I needed to taste her cries. I tried to pull away, repeating it. "Just breathe." Only to thread my fingers in her hair and do it again, drinking in her desperation like water. I pulled back away a third time, stroking the pink stripe in her blonde hair. "Breathe." And this time I managed to refrain and she shivered, inhaling shakily and whimpering. She choked when I stroked my hands down to pinch her nipples but then whimpered and took another breath. "Good girl. Stay with me. Don't worry, kitten, you'll get yours so long as you keep being good for me."

She moaned before she managed to answer. "Y-yes, sir. Thank you, sir, for being patient."

"Such good manners." I kissed her cheek and smiled. "I have some jewelry I think you'll like."

She watched me go back to my duffel bag, where I got the sets of clamps I had for her. And she was so far gone to delirium that she sobbed out eagerly at the sight of them. "Please. Oh, please."

"Breathe," I reminded her, going back to her side. I had brought three sets of these and I showed them to her, holding the gleaming silver chains so that they clinked in front of her eyes. "I brought all different kinds. Let's play a slide scale game. How intense are you feeling up to taking it, kitten?"

I should have known better than to ask. Her eyes lifted from the sparkling chains to my gaze and she instantly shifted and answered, "As much as you want, sir. I trust you."

Every time. Every fucking time, it was like a blow to my chest. "Are you sure about that, Hunter? Right now I'm feeling about as intense as I can get."

She nodded again. "Yes, sir. I'm sure, sir."

"Alright." My voice was soft and I felt a little regret in the midst of my eagerness to play with her, from that small part of my mind that was still trying to refrain, trying to keep my heart safe. But when she gave in and accepted all I wanted to do without questioning what it even was? I couldn't resist. "Brace yourself." Her nipples were already so tortured and ready for the clamps that I didn't even need to tease them first. I did indulge though, and bent forward to lick the first one before I let a set of harsh, but small, clover clamps fall closed on it. I gave the other nipple the same treatment while she was still crying out from the sudden sunburst of sensation.

"Oh! Oh, one second please, sir!"

I stroked her hair. "Breathe. Let the pain sink in. Let it empty you out until there's no more worry, no more stress, nothing but obeying. It just makes more room for my cock inside of you, baby."

Her moan in response made me smile while I knelt with a second set of clamps. Her cries were desperate, almost crazed, when I clamped first the right outer lip of her pussy, and then the left one. I stood back up to thread my fingers through her hair, staring into her eyes. The look in them was something I could get drunk off of, something dangerous. "Look at you," I whispered. "Such an intelligent girl, but not at the moment. That's what makes me hottest in these moments, baby. You're so creative, so bright, and I get the joy of reducing you into this slutty little animal." I kissed her, but it wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a punishing kiss for making me feel insane with my own desire for her. However much of an animal I made her was what she made me. It made me almost angry, how blatantly volatile I was with her. It was a bad idea to keep seeing her and I wasn't going to stop because I just couldn't fucking help myself.

Case and point? I pulled away, growling, and tugged the chain of her nipple clamps so that she cried out again. "What do you want? Tell me out loud, you filthy little girl."

"I want you to fill me up so it hurts again! Please, sir!" She ripped against the chains holding her wrists, finally breaking in her need.

I tugged the clamps on her pussy and then stroked her clit so that she squealed and shuddered with the effort of staving off her release. "Tell me you loved my fisting you, then."

She sobbed out the words, fraying. "I loved your fisting me, sir!"

"You did, didn't you? God, the way you watched it..." I went back to my bag and got a dildo. It was a basic, somewhat large, toy with ridges down the sides for more stimulation. I went back to her with it and unhooked the chains tethering her cuffs so that her eyes widened eagerly and I laughed at the reaction. "Look at you. Look at how excited you get knowing you're going to be fucked like my own little toy. You have to work for it a little for me. You're going to fuck your pussy open with this while I have fun with that toy in your ass. Understood?"

Fuck yes, she did. She nodded eagerly, her eyes greedy on the toy in my hand. "Yes! Yes, I understand."

"Good girl. Go bend over the bed."

————

Hunter

I jumped to obey him and he was driving me out of my mind with sheer pleasure. I still had a chain between my legs and breasts and they swung when I moved, but I didn't care. When I bent over the bed, I flinched when the action pressed on my crushed nipples and then moaned because every sensation made me hotter and hotter. I thought he could maybe take a knife and start cutting and the feeling would only add to this. Because it was all just intensity, even more so than when he'd fisted me. I had thought that would forever be my favorite memory, but now I wasn't sure. His short whip had felt like it was opening me up, had felt like every strike was laying me bare to take more, to surrender more. I didn't completely understand it, but I knew that the pain had both aroused me beyond belief and made me feel as if I should be on my knees before him. The look in his eyes when he'd assessed the blows only intensified the feeling because he'd looked on me as if I was a prized possession.

And his words? It just makes more room for my cock inside you, baby. God. God!

"Sir." I whimpered it just for the pleasure of calling him that. "Sir, please." Just for the pleasure of begging. I closed my eyes and pretended that after he was done with me, I would get to kneel outside of his shower, waiting until he needed me to dry him off...

"Hush. You know what to do." I opened my eyes back when he placed the dildo in my hand, my vision hazy with lust. His gaze was on mine and I couldn't look away, even when I used the clamps to spread my pussy and moaned when the action both caused me pain and made me feel how wet I was. He turned his gaze lower when I stroked the toy over my hole and I whined when I felt resistance. With the large plug in my ass, it felt impossible to fill myself with the dildo too. I had to work and tease first, whimpering, and he watched me struggle to do it, with one hand on my lower back, his eyes dark with an intensity that would have frightened me if I didn't trust him so much.

I cried out when I managed to force the head of the dildo inside of me, shaking all over from how tight it felt with the plug. When I made to withdraw from the feeling of too much, he covered my hand with his own and his voice was a growl. "Don't you dare let up. You take it." I whined and arched and he made me obey him, made me take it, pressing my hand so that the dildo was forced inside of me. "That's it, kitten. Feel every inch. You wanted to be stuffed, didn't you?" Pain shot through me with the feeling of being too full, almost beyond bearing. Almost.

Instead, it was exquisite. Even this threw me deeper down into the water of subservience. "Sir." I whimpered it, trying to tell him that the pleasure was too much. I couldn't fight anymore. "Sir, I- I'm- Sir!"

He covered my hand still and gave a final shove in answer, so that the dildo seated as far as it would go and I felt myself drowning in bliss. I cried out with the orgasm, barely registering the sensation of him slapping my tormented ass and tugging the chain between my legs, one hand still pressing on my lower back. "That's it." His words were a fierce whisper and I bucked up to him, riding out the orgasm but needing him even more than I needed it. It was terrible to orgasm before he did. When I did I only needed to serve him more. It seemed a sin that I should have this wonderful relief and then fail to please him. Once I came, I had to obey whatever he needed, had to kneel to him until he finished his own relief. I didn't know why it worked that way, only knew that the moments between my orgasm and his finish were like a terrible stasis. It felt dangerous because in that time?

I would never say that safeword. I wasn't capable of it, couldn't fight a single command he gave me. "Fuck yourself, baby." He growled it and I obeyed, roughly pumping the toy. I still encountered resistance but it didn't matter because he'd commanded me and I had to please him. His cum felt like something to be earned and I needed it. In me, on me, down my throat, wherever he wanted to grace me with it. But he didn't yet. Instead, he pulled the anal plug from where it was seated and I squealed when he did, arching. His laughter was a rough growl behind me, something fearsome. "No, don't struggle. You take what you're given like a good girl." He thrust the plug inside of me, making sure to stop before it could comfortably seat, fucking me open with the widest parts of it while I struggled to keep up, panting into the dungeon bed. "Are you my little anal slut? Are you my fucktoy?"

Fucktoy. Oh yes, that was exactly what I was in this state. He could have me in any way he wanted me like this. He could make me crawl by his side out to the main area where everyone could see and I'd do whatever, say whatever, he wanted me to so long as it'd make him cum and give him pleasure. "Yes, sir! Please, sir, please use me!"

For an answer, he worked the anal plug so hard that it rocked me on the bondage bed and I couldn't take anymore. Again, I came, sobbing into the padded leather surface, choking out ecstasy when I didn't want to. But he forced me through orgasms like a trial and I was left shaking from that one while he finally removed the plug and I heard the rip of a foil packet. "Keep fucking yourself with that toy," he growled above me. And it took some focus to remember to obey that command when he pressed inside of me, his cock so much better than any toy ever could be. Plugs were good, don't get me wrong, but a hard length of his flesh, painfully forcing inside of me, even with a lubricated condom?

"Oh, please!" It turned me into what he had said before, a mindless animal reduced to a body for slutty pleasure and desire. I lifted for his touch, squealing when he pressed inside of me, feeling raw and full, so full. He pulsed inside of me and even after fucking me with such a thick plug, he still had to fight for every millimeter. "Sir! Master, please, I-"

He cut me off with a hand around my throat, forcefully pulling me back while he thrust forward and I couldn't even cry out, was only permitted a weak gasp through my closed airway. My eyelids fluttered closed and I whimpered, surrendered and abused into perfect submission. "That's it. Give over to Master. Let me have you. Let me use you and don't stop using your toy."

I obeyed, lost to his will, and it was the best thing I'd ever felt. He worked inside of me, sawing out while I struggled to pump my pussy open so that the result was my frantic efforts and his controlled railing of my asshole. My words blended together when he released my throat, meaningless profanities that were pulled from me. He growled above me again and his own voice was a feral, cruel sound above me. His curses twisted around mine and he rocked inside of me.

I squealed through another orgasm, viciously pumping myself with the dildo. Without even thinking of what I was doing, I reached back to claw his thigh and he let me, his breath shaking with a soft laugh at how desperate the action was. In retaliation, he lifted his hands from my waist to my tits and released both clamps there at the same time. Sensation screamed through me and before I could process it, he released the clamps on my pussy, slapping my right thigh instantly afterwards. "I didn't say to stop."

"Yes, sir! Oh, I'm sorry, sir." But he only laughed at me again while I remembered to thrust the dildo, crying out choked sounds of need.

"Are you my good little puppy, my little pet?" He held me down with one hand on my shoulder and the other clawed into my waist and his voice was ragged. The sound of it seemed to match my whimpers of desperation, letting me know that he was every bit as far gone to this as I was. It was wonderful to hear it and I needed him to slake that hunger on me, had to have him finish this.

"Yes, sir!" And there was nothing else I wanted to be either. I spread wider for him to have better use, arched for him to be able to thrust harder and he did and it was wonderful and I was fraying because he was fraying.

"Fuck, God fucking fuck, fuck, fuck, Hunter-" He moaned above me, banging out his orgasm in that way he had where his strokes turned shorter but harder and faster too. I lifted with a sobbing cry of bliss and he answered with the most animal groan I had ever heard. He went still with his finish, but bent over me so that I felt his lips against my shoulder blade in a tender kiss. "Damn you, kitten." He covered my hand where I still mindlessly worked the toy, still obeyed him even in the shock of what had occurred. "You can stop now, baby."

I whimpered, shivered under him, unsure of what hollowness I felt after such wild intensity. "Yes, sir."

"Easy. How about we come back from this one a little differently? That was intense, yeah?"

I turned my head to look at him, feeling strange, feeling raw and so very vulnerable. It scared the hell out of me, how it seemed like my soul and heart were lay so bare, as if I had set them out, and he could potentially leave me shattered and wounded. Eventually I would be fine if he did that and I knew that. I'd go on about my life more guarded than before for a while and then reconcile some heartache and rationally that was obvious, but in the moment? It wasn't so easy to dispel my terror like that.

But looking into his eyes, I realized he knew all of that. He might not know the specifics but he knew something of my fear and he was looking at me with such gentleness and security, despite the roughness and violence of what we'd just done, that it made me realize something. I wanted him, in whatever way he would have me. It wasn't exactly that I wanted to date him or anything like that. No, it was something a little more dangerous than that.

I wanted to serve him at his pleasure. The more pleasure he could take, the better. And that was worse than being in love with him, if I wasn't in love already. Because this put me totally at his mercy when I wasn't even sure he had any interest in having me at his mercy. I prayed to God his mercy was kind, if he was interested. "Yes, sir. Yes please, sir. I'm sorry. I don't know w-what's wrong." Liar. I did know what was wrong.

His next words nearly made me whimper in fear. "Easy," he said softly. "It's okay. Sometimes it happens. Let's role play some." He turned my cheek, smiling so gently, and kissed my jaw. "Let's act like you're my slave," he said teasingly.

————

Let's act like you're my slave. I grinned at him because it was the normal thing to do, but inside my fear deepened. "Yes, sir." Let me be your slave.

Bad. No. That was a selfish thought of me. Ugh. Goddammit, I wasn't supposed to be attached to him at all! He eased the toy out of me before he helped me to my knees, turning me to face him. The end result was that I looked down at his feet and something about that felt perfect. The brief terror from the comedown of our scene was soothed, but in its place I felt other terrors. He sat on the padded bed and stroked my hair gently, having chosen gym shorts for the night. And he was just as imposing in such casual clothes as he had been in a suit. His voice was teasing when he spoke too, but it was strained, as if he was trying to be light, but still stuck in the intensity with me. "Let's see. How should we make a little slave girl show her gratitude for such a hard fucking from her Master?"

I nearly shuddered at those words, warmth filling me from head to toes, as if it spread from my chest. Like him, I tried to make my voice light and playful. "Oh, I know that answer." But like him, there was a little too much seriousness in my heart and the truth was I did know what he might like after that. He was tense and taut and I craved to please him, so I had an idea of exactly how to serve him, though he hadn't yet commanded me to do anything like what I did next.

I leaned forward and started at his ankles, gently rubbing the ever present tension there with my thumbs. His hand stilled on my head for a moment while I rubbed, massaging up his calves. I soothed up in even motions, thinking that would give him the most pleasure. I hadn't ever done it to anyone else before but I knew how I liked to rub lotion into my own ankles.

I dared to glance up at him after a moment and smiled shyly when I saw him watching me. Just his gaze made me bow a little lower, made me glance up at him with a nervous submission. It was the silent equivalent of asking if I was pleasing him. He smoothed my hair back. "Oh, is that how little slaves show gratitude? I have to admit that's a gratitude that feels amazing."

They were flirtatious words but there was another conversation between us too, in the way we looked at each other, in the way his gaze turned more dominant instead of less. We were supposed to be coming back down to earth, but it didn't feel like either of us really wanted to. I answered back, smiling playfully. "And then, as a good little slave girl, I would say thank you, Master, for being so nice and giving me a hard fucking."

In the stories, the bottom was always held or something while the top soothed them, but I discovered that serving my Dom was a far better aftercare. I rubbed up to his thighs, smoothing my thumbs in gentle circles, delighting to the feel of touching him and the thought of giving him pleasure. "And then I would beg for the chance to serve your pleasure again and tell you how grateful I am that you accepted my submission."

He made a soft sound in his throat while I worked circles around tension spots and I didn't meet his eyes anymore because it felt too intimate while saying these things to him. But his next words made me look back up at him. "You would hate it, kitten," he said softly. "Serving me more? I'd-" He cut off with a dark little laugh. "I like control, a lot of it, and it's not out of insecurity or anything like that. It just gives me pleasure to see my orders obeyed. And I wouldn't always give the same orders to you. They'd change. One week I would take chocolate away from you, and not because I think you eat too much of it or for health reasons. It'd be so I could get hard while thinking of you going by a vending machine on your way to classes and considering your options, knowing that wasn't one of them. Or so I could walk by the desk one night and see you eating skittles when I know you usually eat a Hershey's bar. And then the next week I'd make you stop drinking soda, just so I could see you with a coffee instead of an energy drink, because it'd turn me on. It sounds like stupid, little things and it is, but after enough time it's the stupid, little things that grate on people's nerves." He was quiet for a moment and then softly said, "The problem with it is that I would never tire of those little things. I would constantly remind you that being a slave meant you were something lesser than every single person you might pass in the hallway. I would bring up how they could freely eat chocolate as they liked and you couldn't. I would play games where I would make you think of random people as another Master in your head. I would make you acknowledge being a lesser creature in general."