Nightmare Master Pt. 01

Our sounds became tangled in each other when that was the thing that threw me over the edge of torture into agonizing, shameful bliss. Mine turned into shocked cries and shrieks of release, while his became wild little growls of delight with how I unwillingly squeezed him in orgasmic spasms. "That's the spirit we like," he hissed in my ear, and the sound was so menacing that it made me cry out all over again, so that he chuckled wickedly.

And then wrenched my head back with a hand in my hair in a control hold, sinking his teeth into my shoulder while he rode out his own animal orgasm, hard jerks of his cock inside me until he finally snarled and held me on his lap, his hands holding me still with periodic, violent spasms that were in sync with the way his cock pulsed.

I sniffled, feeling numb, dazed, and he made a purring sound behind me when he finally pulled back from his lock on my shoulder. He stroked the little spot of lingering soreness and pain, as if satisfied at having marked me, and the motion was so carnally possessive, so feral that it made me shiver in fear all over again. His voice was sated when he spoke, latent violence roiling through it like a cat that had its fill of blood and was merely waiting until he was hungry again. "Poor little rape bunny. That was awful and mean, wasn't it?" I shuddered and he laughed. Even when he was done, he was cruel, playfully taunting at the pain he gave just because he could, because he felt like it, because I was weaker and he had the ultimate form of masterful control. His sadism was all the more clear when he lowered his voice in soft menace, his displeasure swiftly clear. "I expect an answer when I ask a question."

Even worse, there was more of that terrible eagerness in his voice, which made it all the more clear that he might have gotten off and he might have hurt me, but his sadism was a demon as evil as his mask suggested it was, and it was ready to play again. All it needed was an excuse. I shivered. "Yes, sir, that was mean." My voice shook.

The low threat was controlled and gone as easily as it had risen for him when he answered, and he shushed me again. "Poor, scared little rabbit." His lips were almost gentle at my temple and his tongue was almost soft against my cheek. "It's all over now." His hand circled my collar and I whimpered in terror so that he laughed, but he only held me, only delicately toyed with the charm. "It was so much fun for me, but not at all for a little rape bunny, was it?" I moaned and it wasn't entirely a moan of fear, either. "You struggled so prettily and your tears tasted so good that I think I'll keep you for a little longer. Let's keep this pretty collar on for a while, when that charm fits so well on your throat." I couldn't keep from sobbing miserably at that, but he only laughed again, and his hold around me tightened, while he nuzzled me. He was a monster, a demon, the worst, even worse than the stories of Ivy and Ash. He shushed me again, pressing his fingers to my lips, and I wasn't even sure where I ended and he began anymore. I shuddered again at that thought.

In the darkness, his mask glittered when I turned and his eyes were hard to even see. He pressed the forehead of the mask to my forehead and I hesitated, then pressed my lips to his jawline curiously, as if I could pretend I knew him. He lifted his hand, but it wasn't to hold me the way a boyfriend might hold his girl. It was to grasp me by my hair in another control hold and I whimpered. After what he'd done, I finally went still the way I usually did. "Fucking flirt," he whispered softly.

No kisses, but he held me tighter than any lover I'd ever had. No sweet little lines, but his eyes burned with intensity after our fucked up game that wasn't a game. No loving caresses, but the threat and viciousness in his touch was more powerful than any caress ever could have been. No Prince Charming in his eyes, but the possession of the evil dragon burned all the hotter for it.

When he finally stood up, he paused for a moment to stand over me, as if it gave him pleasure to see me bowed and numb after his sinful use. And I didn't have it in me to deny him that. I just quivered in a state of emotional masochism and subjection, thinking that I had never felt this totally controlled or submissive with any other playmate. It was his heady mixture of force, cruelty, and careful mastery. I don't know how he blended some of these ideas together, only knew that he did, and the result made me shiver when he pat my head because even that was some strange concoction of disdainful degradation and soothing control. "Such a pretty little Honey. Next time, we'll get to know each other better with my cock up your ass. And, little rabbit, you shouldn't go into rooms you're not supposed to. It's not safe and we'd hate for something to happen to you." With that, he let something soft fall into my lap, and he was gone, more laughter echoing behind me, a phantom in my night, a demon quick with his torture and gone as easily, a wolf that fed and disappeared into mist.

I stared down at what had fallen into my lap and shuddered when I held it up to see it better in the darkness. It was a single red rose, like those that circled his wolf insignia, and it was enough to make me stand up too fast, so that my knees shook with the aftershocks of the adrenaline ride that had rocked my world. The hot rush of fear and heat and intensity left me shuddery and I had to work to think through a mental daze, making my way to the door, unsure of what my intentions were. I felt hollowed and empty, in a way that was more exquisite than anything I'd ever felt in my life. A DM saw me walk out of the storage room and froze and I couldn't even think straight enough to remember his name, but he knew mine. "Evey? Are you okay?"

It was Ash's voice who answered behind him, so that I had the vague impression that my demon Master may have left, but not before he'd fetched a friend. "I've got it." I held onto my rose, still trembling, and the DM stood back, tilting his head curiously. Ash met my eyes, his expression carefully controlled, and I shuddered to the thought that I might have found someone who had a brand of control even more dangerous than Ash's iciness. His lips quirked a little, in concern or something else I couldn't tell. "How'd it go?" I staggered the rest of the way into his arms and collapsed with my head against his shoulder, shaking all over, my neck sore from where a demon had bitten me and left his mark of possession, my tiny collar charm in the hollow of my throat, attached to a collar that wasn't discreet at fucking all. Ash tilted my head to meet my gaze. "Evey?"

"That. Was. It was..." I trailed off, holding to him while his concern seemed to deepen.

"It was what?"

"Amazing," I finally moaned. "That was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced in my life, Ash! Who is he? What does he look like? What kind of hobbies does he have? Ash, tell me, tell me! Please, what's he like? Does he like cookies? Does he likes gifts?"

He stared at me, blinking for a long moment before he finally answered softly. "He didn't take your collar off."

"He said he was keeping me a little longer! Was that part of it? Was I supposed to be a summer slave present to a friend, like something from a Gor story? What did you do? Was it all just a game?" I felt frantic and frayed and so damned wild now that he was gone. That evil demon, that terrible wolf, the big red button I shouldn't have pressed.

Ash hesitated. "It was actually supposed to be a game after I messed with your head, but he was supposed to take the collar off. I didn't keep one of the keys because he doesn't change things like that..."

I squealed and Ash blinked again, as if unsure what to make of any of it. "He really is keeping me! You're being serious! He's like a demon and he's locking me in my collar tower and keeping me for a while so he can use me like a rape bunny, like a maso slut and he named me, Ash, and it was so. Fucking. Dreamy!"

He watched me and cut me off eventually, which was to say, "I think I just mixed fire with kerosene and it can't be a good thing."

"Are you kidding, it's wonderful!" And I couldn't stop raving.

He only spoke one more time and that was to softly say, "Evey, you're staying here for the summer with whatever this is."

"And I get to stay at Sulfur's with you and Pet? It's like Christmas in summer, Ash! This is the best year of my life and when do I get to see him again? Wait, don't tell me because what if he doesn't want me to know? I'd be a bad Honey bunny and that's where the names came from and surprises are the best things ever anyway! He was so mean, Ash, so mean and he's awful and it's wonderful and he's an even worse demon than I am, he's so terrible, like, so terrible!"

He let me wear myself out, watching with a sense of bemusement that I didn't think straight enough to recognize until I managed to calm myself down through the realization that my nightmares really were coming true.

----

Seth

I stared down at the demon mask, blinking in a faint sense of surprise at the direction I had found myself taking. More than a little shocking, it was something that astonished me.

Lack of control was not, in any regard, my thing. If I had a plan for the night, I did not change it. Oh, I left myself open for a certain amount of variable deviation of that plan, but a full on left turn? No. Hell no. Fuck no. I hated that.

Except for this one time, when I didn't? There wasn't even a mild sense of irritation at having some of my control taken from me. I considered the demon mask in a sense of amazement, stroking my thumb over one of the fangs above the mouth, the gargoyle visage and snarl a theatrical piece of fun that I had designed when Ash, Ivy, Christopher, and I had been coming up with ways and silent signifiers to play darker games with some kind of safety hold on it. I hadn't seen that wolf symbol since those days, but the mask was something I loved to keep. Apparently, Ash had kept his own too, using it to love on his little slave and it was true that the demon had started out as a dark signal, but it had been paired with the kind of caring theatrics that went with romance for us.

It had felt like romance then, but what did that make her, now, after all these years? Fuck me, I had to admit that it had been her who numbed me to my loss of control, her who had soothed my own demons into outright taking her for more than just a game. If I'd been in a gray area before, I'd for damn certain bypassed that.

And I didn't even care.

I know it wasn't any excuse, but... her. I had played so many games before, but there was something different about her. Whenever I had chased her down, then grabbed her in the storage room, then gotten darker... and darker, the game and atmosphere with her was something just goddamned different. It was this sense of kinky compatibility that fed into the awful things I said and did. I'd started dark and it'd been like a downward spiral that just kept going.

I hesitate to say it, because it sounds crazy, but for the first time in my life, my dual nature didn't feel like an internal war. Other scenes before had come with this stressful sense of being on a balance beam. Before, it had felt like I was using the Master side to get to indulge the Sadist and using the Sadist side to give the Master wounds to soothe.

Not with her. With her, it felt like the Sadist only fed and enhanced the Master. It felt like hurting her only made the Master's kissing and licking her tears all the sweeter in a sense of even contrast, a perfect blend of yin and yang, a darkest dance of extremes.

I didn't understand, but I craved to learn more about that balance from her. Sadist and Master. Torturer and caretaker. Tyrant and king. Rule by terror and rule by devotion.

Demon and angel. That's how I thought of the twin sides at any rate, in my romantic daydreams.

I looked up at the sound of footsteps in my office doorway, meeting Ivory's eyes. "Ash is keeping her at Sulfur's." He tilted his head. "You totally intended to go along with his game, didn't you? Evey got to you, yeah?"

I had to smile sheepishly, guilty as charged. "I've never deviated from what I meant to do. It felt too dangerous with some games." I leaned back in my desk chair, frowning. "It still feels dangerous, but..."

He laughed. "But her? Yeah, so said a lot of sadists, but I for fucking sure don't have room to judge. And we knew she was trouble anyway. Just... Fuck, just be careful, okay? She knows the lines between fantasy and reality so it's not that. It's just that... er."

I frowned. "She not okay?" I had been certain, but the Master in me became rather insecure. The Sadist loved to leave a tearful, sobbing submissive shamed and humiliated on the floor, empty and abused and used. But the Master chafed to the thought that he hadn't gotten his fill of aftercare and cuddling. I wished I had her slavery for real, so I could leave her shaking and crying, bleeding in the humiliation cage... and then go back and reassure both of us all I liked during the night, so I could kiss those tears and lick them clean before I lapped her still drenched pussy and delighted in the mixture of tastes, the salt of her tears and the sultry delight of cum all in one while I purred over how sweet she was.

Ivy laughed, though, and it made me tilt my head. If I'd left her in the bad kind of pain, he wouldn't be laughing. "Er. No, she's fucking great. Like, really great, Seth. Do you get what I'm trying to say?" He ran a hand through his hair when I shook my head, curious. And then he finally just said it. "She's a fucking crazy maso and she's in love with you. I'm telling you to be careful with her heart because this one is something else."

I froze in my stroking the demon mask, stunned for a moment, and then couldn't keep from a bashful smile. "Really, really?" I'd had every indicator that she was having a rocked out, not so good, maso fueled head trip, but... "She liked me?"

Ivory snorted and held out his phone. "Here. Ash told me to show you this so you'd get the warning he's giving you."

He pressed play on a recording and I blinked in pleased delight, leaning forward to the sound of a gorgeous little bunny, the thought of her bringing an uncontrolled smile to my face. Such a sensually enticing, delectable little wolf's prey she was. And her voice! Oh, even over a recording it was excited, easy to read, her heart on her sleeve. She had that quality a lot of slave's had of being all on the surface and easily controlled. "It was the greatest thing ever and he's so dreamy and he's a friend of Ash's, isn't he? Pet, he was mean, like so mean! He was pure evil and you always talk about Ash wearing the demon mask and how much you love it and this was so beyond perfect!"

Oh. Shit, this was why Ash was afraid. She was a lovely little bundle of trouble who would never call it too much and would let me have my dark way with her. I couldn't keep from the excitement to that thought either, couldn't keep from feeling a twisted pleasure that my demon had his victim to feed on and she wouldn't stop his worst pains. I felt like I should be a dragon with a tiny little rabbit caged by my tail wrapped around it. I imagined her using her cute little paws to push at the massive coil, finding herself effectively held prisoner until I desired to torture her again. And when I wanted that, I would lift her up by her ears, so that she squeaked in terror, and I would rope my tail in layers like Dante's Minotaur to indicate which level of hell she would suffer next, for my amusement instead of her sin.

Of course, in between rounds I'd stroke her fluffy bunny ears with my dragon's claws and keep her warm by lighting a cozy fire with my flame breath. It was an amusing little picture, one that aroused me and disturbed me with how attached my fantasies were to her. It had been one game, one, when I had been hesitant to even try playing again. I didn't know her, didn't even know her hobbies. Did she like to read? What music did she like? What kinds of movies? I didn't know a thing about her.

Except... I knew how her tears tasted. I knew how her voice turned surrendered and pathetic when she begged me to stop, to have mercy on her. I knew how her pussy squeezed my cock harder every time she struggled against me and didn't think she even realized that it happened. I knew how her shoulders shook in her fear in such a sexually enticing way and I knew how she flirtatiously begged me to stop hurting her when the belt whipped her ass in strikes too soft for a pain player like her.

I knew that I craved to know more. I wanted to know how she looked when I got into the real torture, drawing her blood and piercing bars through her nipples, ones I could hang hellish weights from while she shuddered in torment and pain. I knew that she inspired lurid, awful fantasies for how I was going to make her scream when I raped her asshole open... and how I'd lap her tears again. Even better was how she started to cry more with how I licked her tears, instinctively sensing my excitement and turning all the more afraid in her perfect maso hell.

Sadist. Master. I stared up at Ivy. "I really am sorry that I deviated. I'm sure he doesn't like that more than I do.

"But, Ivy." I hesitated, then just admitted it to myself and out loud. "I want to play more with this one."

He shrugged. "Okay, then. Just remember that she doesn't have the experiences that you do and doesn't know what kinds you have had."

I looked back down at the demon mask, smiling, even if I didn't answer him. Because I thought he was somewhat wrong, you see. Oh, she wouldn't know my past experiences, but she had to know something about them from the feel and emotional charge alone, just like I could do a little guesswork about her experiences. I thought of the way she'd shivered in surrender under the belt, of the way she'd gotten more afraid when I reacted with twisted excitement. And I could guess a few key things, like the fact that she knew a thing or two about sadists. She knew the sting of the belt. She knew pain and fear and she could play in their dark territories.

Nynaeve. That was her real name, though she went by Evey. I remember Ash telling me her name, smiling his secret smile when he wouldn't fully tell me the game he had in mind. I had tilted my head and asked him if she tugged her braid, unable to keep from the reference, but it had made me aware of the age difference between myself and my playmate, too. She was named after a character in a book that had come out when I was in middle school.

He didn't give me a picture, though, nothing else to go off of. He just said I'd know when I saw my little headfuck partner and I would be pleased. And he'd been right. Everything about her had been perfect. Her dark hair and dark eyes were every bit my type and she had these tits that were gorgeous and full under that slutty little party girl shirt along with an ass so enticingly shaped that it made me think of all the punishment I could give it. But the collar charm was what really got my attention.

Back in the day, Ivy, Ash, and I had been part of a circle that tried to come up with creative ways to play edge games that were on that ledge of too extreme. It'd started with some masochistic friends of ours and no one had the dark side of fantasies like a masochist. See, a sadist could come up with ideas but we had things like our guilt and incredulity to temper our desires. A masochist didn't have either, something we discovered fairly early on. We ran into a lot of gifted playmates who wanted that dark side thrill, on the edge of too much and too hard, and we'd gotten creative with things like rape play games.