Nightmare Master Pt. 01

The collar charm was a vestige of one of those little creative signals, one of my own ideas actually. It happened when a play friend of mine had brought up her darkest rape fantasies, when we'd been experimenting with twisted mind games already. And she'd brought up how she wished there was some way to make it work with a stranger and it hit me that, well, maybe there was. Of course, I wouldn't get to be the violent Dom in her nightmares, but I knew another violent Dom, too. Ivory. I came up with a collar charm that let him know who his playmate was for the night and the good times rolled, so to speak. Of course, this was after a lot of talking with each other and the result had been so goddamn fun and demented in the best way that I'd gotten that charm tattooed on me.

Evey had been marked with my charm, that evil one, the one that went with the kind of games that usually meant the person I played them with could only ever be a playmate and never a slave of mine. There were some fantasies that didn't go with those long term enslavement ideals for most. They were just games.

Why didn't they just feel like games with her? Why did they feel different? Why did seeing my mark on her throat feel like something even more twisted than those experimental days?

Why was I having fantasies of taking her against her will and making her my slave, of conditioning her until she associated my pain with my love and begged me to hurt her, even if she hated it?

Sadist, Master.

Masochist... Slave?

----

Nynaeve

Ash would kill you.

I stared down at the lighter, holding it under a twisted paper clip curiously. I was in the back of Sulfur's, hiding in the guest area, and I was doing something questionable, really questionable, but I had curiosities. A friend of mine named Devi had a brand and since the night of the man I thought of as a demon wolf, I was having increasingly violent, dark fantasies. Oh, I'd always had strange fantasies. I had a twisted relationship with the cane, for instance, with the slice of it across my ass and down my thighs, with the way it felt like it cut the flesh with every track mark left. I loved the way it sang through the air, the way my blood just raced in wild anticipation with the thought of what would be left on me, of the pain I was going to receive. I loved the thought of all the Doms who had steadied me with a hand on my lower back when I shouted and cried and cringed away, loved the memory of how they'd reacted. Some of them would coo in condescending encouragement. Some would patiently pat my ass and slowly raise me back into a position for more punishment to happen.

But I had been going down some dark video forays at nights, in Ash's guest room. I had started to look up things like tit torture and God, I'd masturbated so freaking hard to one video where a man used huge tweezer style clamps on a girl's nipples. He'd attached weight lifting sized weights to those and then used something like a small drill to pierce through the girl's nipples while her eyes glazed over and she couldn't stop the laughing smile from spreading across her face when she looked up at him. I'd turned obsessed with that smile because... I got it. Sometimes it hurt so bad that you couldn't help but laugh in a little madness, but that insanity was what made it such good fun. Of course, the way the Dom had smiled back at her made me melt with thoughts of romantic, terrible torture, of fantasy nightmares that always ended with a rose being dropped into my lap and a glowing sigil of a wolf's head marking me as someone to punish.

I stared at the heated paper clip, holding the lighter for a while, and I couldn't stop the curiosity. What would it be like to have that symbol seared into my skin? I set the lighter to the side and then took a deep breath, building my courage in a rush before I pressed the heated paperclip to my thigh.

I moaned to the sear of pain, except in the fantasy I wasn't sitting in Ash's back room anymore and I closed my eyes to fall into where I did want to be, which was under him. The demon wolf. The man with the red rose. I held the paperclip still, even if it wasn't really doing anything anymore, and stroked my clit, imagining I was in a dark, cruel dungeon, the kind from those tit torture videos. They weren't at all like the domination dungeons, either. Those had things like tables and spanking benches, things I recognized. The other dungeons, though, had far more evil setups and there wasn't a thing in them that was made to look pretty. Instead, there was a lot of uncomfortable metal bars and wooden torture setups, iron posts and huge suspension hooks, drills and needles of all sizes. I imagined being tied down, whimpering in terror with an inflatable gag, while he pressed a heated, glowing brand of that terrible wolf symbol into me. And I didn't know what that symbol meant exactly, but I could guess a few ideas. What would it be like, to have it permanently given to me, to sob with the hellish metal pressed to my flesh, so that the man with the red rose stared down at me and smiled with black sadism like the Dom in the torture video-

I orgasmed with a soft cry, growling while I quit rubbing my clit and fingered myself to every bit of bliss I could milk from my body, whining at the end with a soft, laughing, breathless gasp.

"Wow. That, somehow, might actually be the most mentally stable form of self mutilation I've ever seen in my life... and one of the more dangerous."

I yelped, looking around to meet Ash's wry stare in the doorway. "I'm sorry! Please don't tear my Sulfur's membership, please, Ash, I'm really sorry and I swear I was just thinking of Devi and-"

He held up a hand and his face was so calm that it made me calmer. "Oh, I can guess the kinds of things you were thinking of. You are many things, but depressed is far from any of them. I won't tear it, Evey, but it's not safe for you to do it to yourself and I mean it when I say don't do it again. No offense or anything, I just don't trust you to know when the clamps need to come off, for instance. You'd set a timer on your phone and when it went off to tell you to remove them, you'd press snooze on the alarm like you were saying 'just five more minutes' when getting the fuck out of bed. Jesus, I was glad when Lily fell into my lap back in the day because she was terrifying and you're somehow fucking worse."

I lay back on the bed, accepting the humiliation that I would have to go to him and ask for pain when I started getting antsy. "I'm really glad I found you guys, too, you know. Nothing made sense before I finally met Pet and she showed me this place. I did all these things and hid them from boyfriends and stuff like that. I started with a lot of piss play, actually, but then you guys showed me pain and it was the best thing ever, Ash, the actual best. Every trip is like getting to ride a roller coaster, only better because there's no lines like they have at Disney World!" He smiled gently and let me just go on, because he was Ash, and he was untouchable, ever the Master, always calm and controlled and cold and even. That was Ash. I used to have dreams about him, when I first started playing with him and Pet after I realized that she didn't mind people fantasizing about her Master, but I quickly realized that Ash might have been a total power exchange Master... but he wasn't too hard on the sadistic side and I dreamed of sadists. Still, he was perfect for these raving moments because he just let me have them and he did understand, even if he wasn't on that kink wave. "It's so awful sometimes and the more awful it is, the more amazing it is! I don't always get it because I don't understand, sometimes, how I can love things the more I hate them, but it's better when I hate them. Like the cane. It's so bad, so bad, and the stripes sting the worst. But I wish I could play with someone who would make me bleed from their cane tracks."

He leaned against the doorway. "I'm glad to hear it because you might get your wish."

My heart stuttered to the thought, to the pure terror it gave me to imagine being struck so bad it drew my blood and bruised me. I had videos of that kind of torture that I loved too. Most of the domination videos made the marks look pretty, red lines of stark impact that stood out, but weren't overly garish. But I had a few saved that gave me delicious nightmares. I'd wake up with my heart thundering from dreams that made me shudder in fear, even while I had to masturbate from how horny they made me. "Wait, what?" It was that wonderful line. I wanted it... but I didn't. I wished I could stay away... but I just goddamned couldn't.

Ash stroked his thumb across his bottom lip, studying me. "It was probably a mistake to think of your body as your own to mark, when someone like him left a collar on you." My pulse seemed to jump to my ears, where it sounded like a tribal war drum from some exotic place. Oh, no.

"But." My voice quavered with as much terror as it had held excitement to the thought. Every time. Being a masochist was such a strange thing. I got horny off nightmares and sometimes hated it. I wanted things that I hated and didn't want them, too. "But would he care? I don't know the rules yet! Is he a Dom or a Master?"

And, better question, what did this make me? Besides his little rape bunny named Honey, that is. Ash's smile widened. "It's something of a known fact that the lives of little slaves aren't very fair. I'm sure I can't tell you what he has in mind, but I can promise that he'll make it pretty damn clear if you've broken the rules."

"Ash." I looked down at the offensive mark on my thigh, staring at it with a new kind of dread. "You said it was supposed to be a one night game, right?"

He laughed, low in his throat. "Yes. Until he decided he liked you. Poor little Evey. You always said you wished for a sadist that wouldn't stop when you begged and always hated how you looked so cute when you realized Doms showed you too much mercy sometimes. I think you'll find him a little bit of a different caliber than what you know so far." His voice was flat, intending to scare, to make the darkest game all the worse for me, and it worked. I was terrified. And I loved it. But then Ash softened his voice. "Evey, look at me for a moment." I met his eyes and dreaded what he was going to ask, mentally begged him to not break the spell by asking if I was okay. I was in the potential fantasy of being forced into dark pain slavery to someone who was pure evil and I might never get another chance at something like it.

Whatever he read on my face made him smile. "Just making sure. Come and find me in three hours."

"But what for?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "I'm going to do you a favor. Start practicing less questions."

I had a bad feeling that meant I was something of a little captive bunny and that my new friend was more of a Master than a Dom. I stared down at the tiny little burn mark, so small it wouldn't scar, but it was suddenly way too visible for my comfort. Oh, this might be bad. I had never had a Master before, but I knew some things. For instance, I knew that little masos like me didn't just get punished when they broke the rules.

They got tortured because punishment felt too good.

————

When I went to Ash, my sense of dread only increased because I figured out what he wanted me to find him for. It was so he could dress me for that night and he had the outfit already chosen for me. Like the last one, the one wasn't actually overly fetishy.

The halter top had straps that formed a pentagram, as well as a strap that went beneath my tits, cupping them, and the matching bottom part was another neat little skirt. I shivered at what that might mean and then swallowed when he fixed me with cuffs, having a curious sensation of being a little slave girl made ready for an evil Master. Naturally, another slaver had to make me ready and I would be shivering, crying in fear for what would happen. Maybe I lived in a fantasy world and my Master looked like a gargoyle, as cruel in his features as he was in his games. It made me shudder to think of that, even while some part of me wanted to prance in a cute cage with the thought of being a helpless bunny captive, a little chew toy that whimpered when it was hurt.

It had been days since our last game and I'd discovered something terrible about my masochism. Now that I'd discovered it in such an extreme amount, I couldn't put the lid back on that box. It was too good of a release and outlet in my life and I had already been starting to need it, to burn to have a little punishment therapy every now and again. The rush and release satisfied some very dark part of me. It was a fact of life that people, all people, had some forms of guilt, even if that guilt was only part of their psyche. When someone accidentally got too drunk or something stupid of that nature, they could wake up with a form of anxiety at having been that way, at having lost that control. Pain was becoming my release from that, from stress, from fears. It was an adrenaline rush, a terror ride, and an expiation all in one. Sometimes it scared me, the thought of needing those things I hated.

I didn't realize it until after Ash finished dressing me, but those thoughts were apparently something of a submissive meditation for me. It was something else that I knew about, had heard of, where slaves would reflect on their submission for their Master and put themselves in the headspace to please that Master. I had a moment when Ash fixed the locks on the cuffs to think that this seemed something along those lines, for me.

And then it stopped when, as a last touch, Ash fixed my collar so that it was just so... and settled a pair of rabbit ears on top of my head, something that made me shiver.

Rape bunny. Oh, no. Ash kissed my cheek and I whimpered, in hellish heaven. "Go on."

"One second." I ran and got a twisted little toy I had crocheted, a bunny rabbit pin cushion.

Ash stared at it when I went past him, out into Sulfur's, and he shook his head with dry amusement. "Sometimes, I lay awake at night and wonder what the dreams of a maso must be like. And then I think that if we could perfect VR interrogation, we should have masochists program the simulations because it's truly a terrifying thought. God save us from demons like you, Evey."

I grinned and it gave me a little courage, being called that, enough for me to stand a little straighter with my crafted bunny pin cushion. I had only given him one eye and used yarn to make an X over the other one, like a patchwork doll. But the courage didn't last long. I stared around Sulfur's main floor and skirted to the side, looking for a demon mask, then wondered if that's what he'd be wearing again. It made me feel like a girl in pirate adventure story, trying to not get the attention of a ghost or a skeleton creature that would mean bad things. I ducked under the stairs and peaked around them, looking up to try to find him before he found me. He was so big that he couldn't be that hard to find, even if I didn't know his face all that well, right?

I froze when I saw him, when he walked through the front door. He had this way of walking that was so dreamy, at least to me. Every step was measured and purposeful, his head was always raised, and he had this Master's X factor. Ash had it, too, that self possessed security. Of course, this man had another factor about him, one that I associated with some of the sadists I played with. It was this strange mix of cruel playfulness, something that manifested in little actions, like right then, when he toyed with a set of dungeon keys, flicking them to make them clink against each other. I hid further behind the stairs, shivering, wondering why I wasn't going to him like a good bunny. Every other playmate I'd had, I had been able to bow, even if I didn't want to. All they had to do was look at me and I'd cower to please them, a good little submissive. But with him, I couldn't seem to stop myself from hiding, from making it so much worse.

Maybe he hadn't seen me. I ducked under the stairs and curled closer beneath them, making myself as tiny as possible, brushing one of my rabbit ears on the staircase.

The tap on the stairs made me close my eyes and shiver. Oh, no. I looked up through the slats and flinched beneath his gaze. His eyes were vibrant with his amusement and he wore a different demon mask this time. This one was red with curving horns above his head and it curled over the top of his mouth with fangs, but otherwise ended there in a similar fashion as the last one, so that I could still see the cruel smile he had. He held out the keys he had for one of the back, private dungeons and gestured silently.

I shook my head fearfully, hesitated, and then fit the small patchwork rabbit pin cushion through the stair slats in offering. He lifted an eyebrow and his smile widened in a way that didn't comfort me. And then it got worse.

He dropped his duffel bag on the stairs and unzipped it, watching me with sparks of sadistic intent in his gaze. It was enough to make me shiver again while he tugged out something that looked like a kit, almost like a strange tackle box. My eyes went wide when he lifted a piercing needle.

I nearly wet myself when he stabbed the bunny's torso and it was enough to make me yelp, make me sprint from behind the stairs to try to run away like a stupid rabbit. The wolf was much larger with a much longer stride and he was laughing when he caught me in a flash. Hell, I didn't even make it away from the stairs before he did. He caged me against his chest easily, while I shivered in fright and stared down at his suit cuffs, realizing he was wearing the Roissy cufflinks again. And this time he had a matching ring on his left middle finger, something that made me shiver all the harder with the thought that it was a complete fantasy. I started the mental slide to a dark, twisted place where I was a tricked little rabbit and I was never getting free again. "No. Please, no."

He shushed me, a soft little coo sound. "Don't be scared. I just want to torture and rape you a little bit. It will be fun, Honey, the kind of thing you like." He laughed at me when I moaned. "Besides, you've been a naughty little slave girl and need a nice lesson in who owns this body and who gets to mark it." His thumb brushed up my cute little skirt, finding the mark there so that I shivered. "Poor little rape bunny. Did I leave you without some pain for too long?" Christo. He held me secured and captured with an arm in a lock around my chest, raising his other hand from my thigh so that he could curl it around my throat. His voice turned lower with dark threat and evil pleasure. "I can fix that for you. And once I do, I'm going to make you burn for pain. I'm going to condition you to beg for it, make you think of cane tracks as kisses and paddle licks as loving caresses. I'll make it so you thank me while you're crying, pretty girl. I think that's only fair, that you be made to come to me for torture when I'm so kind to give you what you crave."

I was already crying a little... and loving it. He scared me to my darkest sides with a terrible blend of total control and wild cruelty. He both held me safe and terrorized me with his threats. It was a strange feeding circle for me, that his threats gave him more to comfort me with under his control, but his safe control gave him more to terrorize me with when I knew he wasn't lying with those threats. It was the worst possible combination, one that blew my mind with how consuming it was. I shifted in his arms and he lifted the hand at my throat to turn my face with a finger at my jaw. I whined when he flicked his tongue across my cheek, unable to keep from arching back in his arms in fear fueled arousal with the thought of his tasting my tears. The action made me brush my ass against his cock and I whined again to the feel of how hard he was, then closed my eyes with how his breath shook from how horny he was getting off feeling me shake. "Please don't do that, sir. Please don't."