Nightmare Master Pt. 01

"But of course he is. I take it he's mean and harsh and an extreme sadist, too?"

I do remember seeing something in his eyes there that made even drunk me tilt my head before I forgot about it and just recklessly kept going. "Yes! As bad as Ivory or worse. He loves making me bleed and forcing me to take crazy kinds of pain. He loves the cane too and when he realizes I hate anal so bad, he turns awful, sir, and he keeps me in really humiliating forms of bondage."

Ash was laughing, I remember. "And how real do you want your forced enslavement to be?"

"As absolutely real as possible. As close as I can get to the worst forms of terror, even darker than you and Pet or Ivy and Two. The darkest and worst." I remember my head falling back with a wave of the alcohol hitting me harder.

Ash stroked my hair and I remember hearing Pet over me too, but I couldn't remember how long that was from the last pieces of conversation I could recall. There was a fade somewhere in there, but I do remember Pet being on the other side of me so that I was in between them by that point. And I do know I was still fucking talking like a suicidal little maso, still confessing, and you want to know who else was to blame? Pet. That's who. Pet was at least a little bit at fault in all this.

Because I definitely remember one part from her. "Oh, oh, oh, does he make you cry every day, too?"

"Every day! So he can lick my tears and tell me how cute I look when I cry."

Ash laughed. "Evey... This isn't easy for me, by the way. You're throwing me in an extremely gray area. Actually, you know what, it's not even gray."

"What do you mean?"

He stroked my hair and I remember an image of him staring down at me, his eyes twinkling. "It means it's hard to replicate something like Ivory did and even he knows that was questionable territory. I have your psych eval, though."

I'd been the one to get that done with a kink friendly therapist, so I could play twisted mental games and keep check. "Yup! I'm actually quite sane and down to earth, believe it or not. Despite what everyone thinks when they hear some of my proclivities, I can pull out of games when they're over."

And that's where it ends. I remember Ash mentioning something to the effect of my having proven my sanity's resilience with games I'd played in Sulfur's, remember Pet saying something back to him, but that's all I got. I just know that I still kept motherfucking talking. But one last word to the wise. Be careful what dark fantasies you wish for out loud when you have really good friends... who just so happen to be really well connected in the kink world.

----

Seth

It started with a text from Ivory Lavrov. You should come to Sulfur's tonight.

That was it, but it made me smile. You should come to Sulfur's tonight. And he had chosen a clever night, too, the bastard, a night where he knew I'd be open to suggestion.

I had helped Ivory and Ash start the night clubs out of our college dream of having a safe place to indulge in extreme kinks. This was back when we all became friends through light dungeon parties and got along so well because we all thought that those dungeon parties were fun... but that we wanted something a little more. Back in a college apartment, Ivy rediscovered his brother and we'd dreamed and come up with some of the rules we'd set, a circle of hellraisers trying to be safe about it and figuring out how, people from different parts of life who had one unifying factor, our love of hard kink.

I stared down at the back of my left hand, where my wedding ring used to be, thinking it through. I went out to eat with Ivy every week or so, met up with Ash sometimes, but I hadn't been to a dungeon or to Sulfur's in a year to the day.

It was the same amount of time it'd been since I'd been married to my last slave. We'd been together for three years and we'd tried to make things work for another two after that before calling it quits because you just didn't give up on something that intense very easily. Before that, there'd been two others, slaves too. After a certain amount of trying, though, it made me stop and think, "Maybe it's me. Maybe that's what's wrong." So it'd been a year.

It was a lot easier to think that way when the truth was that I just wasn't a nice person and I especially wasn't a kind Master. Hell, there were some accusations that still made me flinch. It was Ivory and Ash who helped the most, actually. Ivory was the one who rolled his eyes at my emo moments. "How many masos have you met? Because however many it is, it's not all of them. Look, you just haven't met the right one yet. Take it from someone who gets it."

And then it was Ash who snorted at my "Maybe I'm not what I thought I was" moments. Those "Maybe I'm not a Master at all. Maybe I'm just abu-" And he'd never let me finish the sentence. He'd cut me off right there. "You keep talking and I'll beat the shit out of you." And honestly, that'd been enough to make me fall quiet. Ash was smaller and slighter than Ivory or I was, but I felt like he was the kind of cold eyed dog I maybe didn't want to tangle with when I was feeling low.

But after a year... I stared across my home office at the wrought iron cage I'd kept. The truth was my house was just littered with clues at the demons I liked to dance with. Sure, it had started with a dungeon, my fantasy land, but then it'd overflowed when I just couldn't keep it contained. A paddle in a drawer in the sitting room, a riding crop in my office, that kind of thing until you finally started getting a little bigger, just a little, and then the ball kept going and ended with a cage here and there instead of a small toy. It probably made it all the more terrible that I was slightly romantic at heart in some ways, when mine was a twisted kind of romance. I hadn't gotten rid of all of those clues because I just couldn't. They were special, something I couldn't have a relationship without, even if I tried. I remember back in college trying to date this vanilla girl and feeling awkward the entire fucking time. I'd try to keep some of the blacker thoughts to myself and knew I failed when she stared at me with this gaze of speculation and rebellion.

The dungeon where it all started was a few doors down from me and it was one that held some pretty fantastic memories, one that my slaves hated. What was worse about the kinky people who were attracted to me was that, by nature, they were the type of person who couldn't help but touch a hot stove when they knew it'd hurt them. From what I could tell, I was someone they thoroughly enjoyed the thought of... and never enjoyed the reality of. It was terrible too, getting to see the adoration and thrill turn slowly, but surely, to nothing but fear.

Even worse was how much I liked the fear and couldn't resist wanting more of it, by the hell of my own nature. It was impossible enough to find someone who enjoyed the reality of total power exchange, was the type of thing that was a hard turn off for most. And it usually took a special kind of nurturing, careful Master to make it work well and I had that. I actually did, believe it or not.

The problem was with the other traits I had. Those traits that wanted a slave to love... and one who would fight me, one I could force. Jesus Christ, sometimes it felt like I was a special kind of fucked up. It was like someone had taken a turn dial on both the aspects of control freak mastery and extreme, violent sadism and cranked both of them up to the highest settings to make me a unique brand of an intolerable asshole. Hell, even I hated being inside of my own fucking head sometimes.

I stared at the cage and had to smile. Fucking Ivory. I'd ended up over at his house a couple weeks ago and started drinking, only to get started on the subject of her. The last one. The one who'd really driven the point home. "You're fucking evil sometimes, Seth. Like... I know you say that to everyone to warn them, but you need to say it a few more times." I spun my desk chair in a circle with the memories, then glanced down at my phone when it lit up again.

I'll take you to see Lamb of God in concert next month, if you come out and play a game tonight, Smaug the dragon. It's twisted and everything.

The memories answered one more time, when I got up a little bit of excitement at the thought of what Ivory would call a twisted game. I can't handle that when I want to make you happy so bad.

What the hell. It was just going to Sulfur's and it wasn't like that was the kind of place people went to when they were interested in relationships. I mean, sure, some of them were, but most wanted a hardcore playtime.

My whip hand twitched. It'd been a year. Take it from me that it's a long ass time to go without holding a whip or cane or other fun little terror toy, especially when I had a room full of my favorites two doors down. And yet, there were still all the voices from the past in my head. Holy hell, they said you were terrible, but you really are.

Ivory messaged me again. You know what, fuck you. I know you're reading these. I'm picking you up and you're coming to Sulfur's, you goddamned antisocial jackass.

I grinned. Well, at least I had good friends. It struck me as poetic sometimes that I got along so well with the Lavrov brothers. Ivory was the perfect sadist and Ash was the perfect master. They were two sides of an intensity. And then there was me, trying and failing to blend both intensities together. A Master could only wear the crown his slave adorned him with and ruled with respect. A Sadist was a tyrant who took what he wanted and ruled with fear.

How'd you blend those two extremes when part of them didn't want to be blended? How did you go about that when part of being a Sadist was that you didn't want to talk and wanted to force? I still didn't know.

Bloody hell, it's just going to Sulfur's to hang out. What's the worst that's going to happen?

The worst that could happen turned out to be Ivory and Asher Lavrov. At first, I was even just going to dress casually for it, too. A lot of people who went to Sulfur's loved the dress up thing and who wouldn't? Any night you went there, you were guaranteed to see all kinds of latex, leather, fluffy cat ears, and everything in between. For me, I wasn't intending to try overly much. Hell, I wasn't even sure I was ready to try this at all, but the atmosphere would be nice. Still, though. I studied the harsh, wrought iron cage across my office, thinking of the memories.

I really did want to make some new ones. On second thought... I changed my mind on the outfit and wore one of my day suits instead, fixing the Roissy cufflinks with a sense of old affection and nostalgia. The rise of inspired playfulness made me consider a few other playful antics, ones I might have the means for. What can I say? Old dogs, old tricks, and all that.

----

Nynaeve

"How do I look?" I spun in a circle in the back of Sulfur's and Pet laughed.

"Perfect!"

Ash had already gone out and was ruling his fetish bar like a king, or at least I liked to think of him that way. It felt romantic and terrifying to think of him as some kind of ruler, even though the description would make him roll his eyes with my maso dramatism. "Thank you guys for the earrings and the pretty collar charm. It's so perfect!"

Pet grinned. "Ash is the one to actually thank for that. Well, Ash and Ivy's jewelry store."

"Wait a minute. They came from Ivory's jewelry store? But I can't take that because-"

"Hush." I turned around to Ash's voice and he smiled at the sight of me, his eyes lingering on the collar charm. "They fit you well. Besides, maybe it will stop someone like you from getting all emo with those bullshit thoughts of not being a real submissive because your kinks are off."

I blushed, but grinned too. They had gotten me two sets of earrings and a collar charm that went with my favorite play collar. One set of earrings was for the top piercings and they were little Roissy circles with tiny diamonds in them. Even better, the second set were handcuffs that hung beneath those, with matching tiny diamonds.

The collar charm was easily my favorite though. It was a little bit of a strange design, one I didn't know. Ash said it was a symbol from the early days of Sulfur's, back when it was just him, Ivy, and a circle of their friends fantasizing about a place to safely indulge in heavy kinks. It was a strange pendant with a wolf's head engraving, small roses surrounding it in a circular design. I touched the pendant and Ash smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Come here." I went to his hands, like an idiot lamb to its slaughter even then, and tilted my head when he gestured for me to turn around, holding a lock up for the back of the collar, something that made me pause. Ash often gave me play collars for my nights at Sulfur's, due to the whole being scared of me picking up an inexperienced Dom thing. The thing was, though, that he had never locked any of those collars.

"Should I be scared?" I asked him.

He smiled. "Let's call it a different collar for the start of what's hopefully a wonderful summer."

I grinned, even if it didn't exactly answer my question. "Cheers to that!" And I turned around for him to fix the lock, facing Pet, and it was Pet's expression that gave a little more away. Something in it gave me this feeling of... not quite fear. Even then, it wasn't quite fear. It was more a sense of anxiety, perhaps, or wariness. I looked down at my strange little shirt and skirt outfit, and that was something else that Ash and Pet had gotten. It wasn't exactly even fetish clothing. It was just this cute, short flowing skirt with this halter top that tied around the neck, a leather strip tight beneath my tits to make them stand out more. And no shoes, either, but that wasn't all that strange, being a barefoot little submissive. My cuffs were the only heavy gear, as they were more like leather arm guards with straps up the sides to tie them together.

I finally looked up at Ash. "Am I in a game?"

He tousled my hair affectionately, having snapped the lock shut. "No. Games can be left."

I tugged at my collar and that's when the thrills of fear and adrenaline started tingling up my wrists, through my abdomen. "What do I do now?"

"For right now, you just do the same thing you usually do. You trust me, Evey?"

I laughed at that because I honestly thought I'd trust Pet's Master through a lot. Ash was cold and even, and his rules and expectations were always crystal clear. He kept every promise he made, good and bad, and he'd shown me this wild world. "Yeah, I trust you with my life, Ash."

"Okay. Then, no matter how bad it gets, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere." Now, that was terrifying. I nodded at him slowly so that he smiled and nudged me towards the door. "Just keep that in mind and go hang out for right now."

Pet had this grin on her face and I wondered how much of whatever this was had her in on it. The dramatic air of theatrics had Ash's name all over it, but Pet wasn't innocent either. See, the truth was that the more of Pet it had in whatever it was, the more awful it was likely to be. Ash was amoral sometimes, but he was ever the Master, ever careful, even if he was exacting. Pet, on the other hand, knew what a bottom could take and knew my secrets and how bad they were. I felt like she was the one to watch for.

I made my way through the Sulfur's hallway and out into the main room, wondering what I might be watching for. Ash said to just hang out, but there had to be something I was waiting for, there had to. Letting me know that much without letting me know what was up and then being given a warning felt like being told, "Somewhere hidden in this building is a big red button. Don't press it."

Obviously, now I had to find it and press it. I jumped at the sound of a whip crack and grinned at the reaction. Whips were common enough in Sulfur's, but the feel of whatever game I was in made me more antsy, more afraid, more jumpy. I turned to watch the whip scene for a moment and had to sigh happily when it was Ezra and his Toy. Toy loved the whip and Ezra was so good with them. It always felt like delightful romance to get to see them together, the way they never talked during their scenes. And they never, ever did. They didn't have to. All he had to do was caress the whip up her back a certain way and she was so used to him and his pain that she just knew what each different touch meant.

So. Dreamy. I smiled all the more when he scraped his nails up her marked back and she moaned in pain, then continued on to the bar. It almost felt like encroaching on sex to stay and watch their whip scenes too long. I waved to Vincent, the bartender, and then wondered who all was in on whatever this was. What was I part of? What was I looking for? I paced up the stairs to the balcony, wondering if I was playing tonight at all. For a moment, I just looked over the side at some of the scenes below me, holding the railing and watching the whip scene from a distance, thinking through how scared I should be for that night.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe I should be really terrified after that night when drinking. My blood raced a little more when I considered it, when I placed it together with where I was and what company I had started to keep in life. Maybe I had made a bad decision or two. Maybe I had a lot of pain waiting to come to me. I shifted on my toes, touching the collar, thinking of going to Ash and asking how I got it taken off. Eventually, though, I turned and leaned against the railing, merely toying with the charm at my throat, torn between wanting to breathlessly laugh and wanting to run far, far away. I had a curious sensation of being a carefully, lovingly adorned little plaything for some dark, twisted, Story of O inspired purpose. Although, part of that sensation probably had a lot to do with the symbols in my pretty earrings. There was something really twisted about it, something that made me feel tense with the strangest blend of terror and excitement I'd ever had in my life.

I turned back to go to the stairs again, only to stop. Because I was pretty sure I found it, the big red button. Him.

----

For a disconnected moment, I thought it was Ash because the fitted demon mask was exactly like the kind Ash wore, only this one was jet black with silver features. He wore a black suit, a black shirt under it, and a silver tie that matched the features of the mask so the effect was surreal and dramatic. Even his hair was a jet black in color and what was more was how this man was far too big to be Asher Lavrov. He was more among the size of giants like Ivory. While I watched, his right hand twitched while his eyes were fixed on the charm at my throat.

I matched him, I realized in a sense numbness. I was dressed down in black and silver too, like him. And then, on the heels of that thought was the idea that he was darker than me in his features. I had always thought my brown eyes dark, but his struck me as coal black. My hair had only the faintest senses of chocolate in the locks, but his was stark behind the mask. Instead of my warm brown highlights, his looked as if it should have been highlighted with cold, dark blue.

Darker than me. I backed away from him, shivering in fear at that thought. I was supposed to be the worst little maso I knew. I hadn't met a sadist to make me want to tap yet and I always begged for more, always. I was bad and I cooed happily over the most twisted dynamics, over evil rape fantasies, over wicked things and horror scenes. I liked Nick Scratch in Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, not Harvey.

Darker than me. His eyes lifted from the charm on my collar and they glittered when he met my gaze, like shards of black ice behind his mask. All it took was one look and the terror sank in all the harder. I had dreamed and dreamed of someone as dark as me. I was the demon little plaything whose pain tolerance always outlived a sadist's guilt.