Nightmare Master Pt. 01

There wasn't any guilt in Master's eyes. His even expression made it perfectly clear that every motion was still controlled and still deliberate. He paused to tug the chains of the clover clamps again, taking a moment to pull them, stretching the lips of my pussy painfully, and some sense of brokenness sank in. Pain on top of more pain. He squeezed the bulb of the inflatable toy in my ass and I heard a dark, sexual moan, only realizing it was me making that sound after the fact. I floated higher than high, so that even when I blinked in that moment, it was a motion that fascinated me when it didn't have pain with it.

Master met my gaze and his smile was sinful, his demon's mask earned. "Four more," he purred.

I breathed out, stunned into a sense of timelessness, screaming with the next stripe. He was making me bleed more, too, I knew, and I watched his face to see how much he enjoyed that fact. Another stripe made me tremble and I was down to two.

He paused there, though, and lowered his free hand between my legs. I watched with a low moan when I realized why, when cum dripped from my cunt onto his fingertips. "Look at how much you like this. I'm learning a lot about you tonight, little rape bunny. It almost makes me want to fuck your drenched little pussy again, but I promised you a hard ass fucking instead."

I couldn't even think straight enough to remember that I hated anal. That sensation of pure, fiery need in me was already so intense that the anticipation of his thick cock up my ass was only more kerosene on the fires of hell. Because my arousal was every bit as hot as my asscheeks felt. I watched him lick the cum from his fingers, watched him smile wickedly at me, then squealed with the next bloody stripe. One more. Just one.

He made it count, swinging hard, so that I shrieked. And then he got even worse. "Just a few more, maybe? Since you like it so much that you're dripping, yeah?" I sobbed while he laughed and he did it because he was fucking evil. He struck the cane and ripped even the little bit of hope he'd given me back on another whim while I cried in misery, then struck it again because he could.

"I hate you," I whimpered.

"Aww, I know. That was terrible of me and so cruel, too, wasn't it, Honey bunny?"

I didn't trust him even when he sat the cane to the side. "It was torture!"

"I know." I gasped when he trailed his nails up my ass again, then blinked and shivered when he bent forward, his tongue brushing up my ass.

But I moaned, and I mean loud, when it sank in that he was laving up some of the blood. "You're evil!"

His laugh was breathless and I shrieked when he lapped up my drenched slit. The abrupt shock of how horny I actually was being brought to my attention through the pain was so intense that I didn't even care about the added pain of his removing the clover clamps. He laughed breathlessly against my pussy with the sounds I gave him. "God help us both that you like that fact, Honey. Come here. We're almost done. Just a little more suffering for me."

I twisted frantically when he released the inflated toy in my ass, shuddering. "No, no! Please, please, I can't take that, too. I can't, I really can't!"

"You can take what I say you can. God, you're such a fucking flirt. It's going to hurt even more too, with how hard you're making me with your struggling and begging." Oh God, oh God, oh God... I pant against the table when he finished undoing the harness and took out the toy and he wasn't kind enough to add more lubricant to make it easier. I was panting when he quickly undid the bar I was bent over so he could remove it from beneath me, using the pedal adjustment for the table to lower me down for him to fuck and use. It felt like an eternity before he finally pressed his cock head to my tighter hole, while my eyes went wide, and I couldn't even tell if it felt so long because I burned to have him or because I dreaded it more. It was a strange thing that there was already so much pain that I actually didn't hate the sensation as much as I usually did, too. I just felt more and more of an emotion that could only be called "frantic".

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God." I gasped it out, repeated it over and over, then clawed my hands when he pressed a cane welt. "No, please, oh, it, I, hurts, so bad..." The words were a meaningless string, one that excited him. He growled above me in his reply and shoved his cock particularly deep in my asshole so that I shouted. "No, stop, please, please!" He wrenched another cane welt and I squealed. "No, stop it!"

"Does it hurt?"

I shuddered, a full body reaction that caused me to squeeze on his cock. His voice was low, animal, and so fucking horny. "Yes, it hurts so bad! I hate anal, I hate it!"

His laugh was eager. "Do you want me to stop?" I choked in ecstasy with the question because even asking it made him harder inside of me. His thrusts, even then, were controlled but they were so violent.

"Yes, I want you to stop, please, it hurts! Please, I don't want you to anymore, please, please!"

He moaned above me, a sound that was almost drunk with sheer heat, and it was enough to set me off. I had never been able to cum from anal, but I jarred forward with an endless cry of twisted bliss from how much I'd pleased him by begging. I squeezed on him so hard that it hurt me to feel it and he hissed above me, his pace turning wild, so rough it felt like being turned inside out. I was shaking, unsure of the sounds I was even making anymore, and so freaking beyond sanity that I wasn't sure I'd ever want sex with anyone else after him.

"Oh, my God... Oh, my God..." I was whispering it when I could think straight again, in a shaking voice filled with awe and wonder. He was still pounding inside of me, his pace brutal, and I loved it, I fucking loved it. It wasn't even like I could have orgasmed so soon after that intensity, either, but it felt like being a used little slut and it was amazing.

I shuddered when he finally, and it took forever before it happened, growled above me, going still while he pulsed his release inside of my ass. His body jarred in those same jerks from before while he finished, the only thing he did that seemed out of his control, and then he finally went still with a last, low sigh.

It felt like an age before he finally moved above me, before he gently undid my cuffs. "Honey?"

I whimpered at the degrading name, wishing he'd use me all over again. "Yes, Master?"

He stroked my hair and there was a smile in his voice. "One more rule you should get used to. The only time you're allowed to cum from now on is with something in your ass."

The thought made me moan all over again, made me thrilled to the depths of my being that it wasn't a choice. If he said I wasn't allowed to cum, it was pretty fucking clear by then that I wasn't going to. He had that much control, that he wouldn't let me disobey him. He was that good with his sadism, that it didn't matter if I willingly bowed to him. He could just as easily make me bow and preferred to do so anyway.

That was the moment that I realized I was in love with someone I didn't completely know. I was so fucking in love. He was terrible, a nightmare, the worst. He had moaned so loud when making me tell him how much I wanted him to stop, by making me call what he was doing rape.

He was fucking beautiful.

————

Seth

No one thinks to warn a dragon about the dangers of a little bunny. Why would they? Bunnies were so small, so frightened, so sweet, and dragons were always the ones you had to watch for. They were big and mean, with armored scales, and they breathed fire and when they coveted, they took by jealous force.

Why would anyone ever warn the big, bad dragon of how cute bunnies were when they chattered up to talk to their monster captor? And why would the dragon ever think to be wary of that moment when they held a little bunny caged by their coiled tail? No dragon would ever think their rabbit would even want to talk with them, let alone how downright sweet they would be. And the way they tapped the pads of their cute little paws together in thought? There wasn't any harm in that.

And there definitely wasn't any harm in stroking their soft fur and delighting in how cuddly they were. It was the kind of thing that made a dragon snuggle close to his little torture toy, so close that he'd never notice when an arrow went right through the single unguarded part he would have. His heart.

Even when I left the collar on that first time, I still had thoughts of a game in mind. It was threatening and dark and the kind of thing that would make her wonder what was real and what wasn't, but it wasn't the kind of thing that I intended to end in my home dungeon, exactly. When I told Ivory I wanted this one, I had meant as a play slave. My thinking had been that she would tire of me and my overbearing bullshit like most did, but her sunny, strange disposition would be something to pull me back in after divorcing my slave. So, even then, I might have fantasized over having her total slavery, in the way that any sadist might, but it wasn't in that game.

After the second time, it hit me that I wanted her. For real, I wanted her. Somehow, someway, I wanted her slavery and I'd get it no matter what I had to do to persuade her for it. At first, I thought about doing what anyone should do with that kind of relationship, which was talking about it. But I held off when I let her up from her bondage, since it wasn't the right timing.

I ended up holding off entirely for a different reason, though.

She staggered when I helped her up, staring up at me with this look that concerned me for a moment. Evey had one hell of a pain tolerance and it'd taken some careful watching to the way she reacted to pain. Even then, I'd been erring on the side of caution. I walked an extreme line, but only with years of practice from watching every last nuance, from knowing what to look for. The unconscious muscle spasms, for instance.

I held her close, the Sadist in me sleeping so that the Master could have his fill of care. "Nice and easy." I licked up her cheek, tasting her tears again, and couldn't keep from a slight purr of a sound. First, her blood... and then cum for dessert after that. And more little maso tears. Jesus, I wanted to drink gallons of those tears of hers, how hedonistic they were in her thrill ride chase through hell to find bliss. "Look at me, Honey."

She obeyed, her eyes lifting back to my face where they'd fallen to stare at my chest. She whimpered slightly, then her eyes widened. "I... Oh, my God, you're so bad."

I loved hearing her say things like that, too. She didn't say it like any of the past ones did. She said it with something closer to reverence, something that stroked my ego, not that it needed any more encouragement. "So they tell me, little rabbit."

"Can I kn-kneel? P-please? Can I kiss you l-like you showed me?"

Still, though, it gave me concern that she was stuttering like that, that she was shivering. It wasn't that it scared me exactly. It was more so that it was actually a new reaction for me and I don't even mean the actions themselves or anything. I had seen things like the shivering before at the end of a harder scene. I just hadn't seen it the way she did it, specifically. "Of course you can, little slave bunny."

She moaned at that and I had to grasp her collar to help her kneel when she almost fell at my knees. She moaned again when the action made her sit on her still bleeding cane tracks and the sound was arousing enough to make my inner Sadist stir, when he should have been sated for a time after a hell of a scene like that. I stroked her hair, loving the way she pressed her lips to my crotch, even if I couldn't quite get hard again yet. She whimpered, giving me kiss after kiss, still with that strange sense of shuddering, of breathless eagerness to please me. I tilted my head and watched her until she looked up at me and she was happily crying, my emotional little maso slave. "You're so bad."

And that's when it sank in, what was different. She stared up at me with awe, fear... and total adoration, a kind that made me blink in stunned shock. I had been adored before, but it was a different kind I learned to recognize, a kind borne of a submissive's sense of need for the security that came from that factor that made a Master a Master. It was this form of infatuation from having someone safe to bow to... until, of course, it became clear that I wasn't safe to bow to. Oh, I had control in spades usually, but it was how I used the control that made me dangerous.

Her adoration? It wasn't like that. It was something closer to zeal and reverence, like someone looking up at a god. I couldn't stop from a shy grin. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yes! Like, crazy bad. That was absolute agony. It hurts so freaking bad."

I felt like I could wag my dragon's tail. It was nothing at all like the way other people had said it, when their love turned to terror and it wasn't fun anymore. I touched her nose, staring down into her eyes. They were so dark, like mine, but hers were warm with chocolate tones. "Maybe the lingering pain will stop a little pain whore like you from hurting yourself again. Bad little bunny. A slave's body isn't her own anymore."

She lifted, shaking still, but now I knew better. It was with excited relief, some strange concoction of having survived and being winded over it. "It's Master's." She whispered it, in wonder, and I smiled mildly in approval.

"It is."

"That's you." She said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and I had that sensation of a submissive gifting me a crown again, making me a ruler. I nodded, thinking things through, and that was when I knew I couldn't talk with her.

I couldn't ask her for her slavery, not with the way she looked at me after what I'd done. Not when she stared up at me, kneeling on bloody cane tracks, with this starry, stricken gaze, like I was the most beautiful thing she'd ever gotten to kneel to. With her, I was learning, the Sadist and the Master could exist together. Because, with her, some things had to be given and some things I had to take.

With the way she looked up at me, it seemed like the most obvious thing in the world that what I wanted was something that required a mix of both, and it had to be done right for her. Even if we only knew each other as Master and Honey, even if I still didn't know all the other details, I knew that about her. She was easily the most gifted masochist I'd ever met, something dangerous, and I had to make it good. It felt whole and right that her kind of gift had to be earned with careful consideration and prowess because once I had it, I could nurture that gift into something truly evil.

One way or another, I'd make it so fucking dark and bring the worst nightmares to life so well that she'd never want to leave my side. But first, of course, I had to figure out other things in life, things like what kind of pastimes my little slave would want for her free time. I stopped her kissing my cock by grasping her collar's O-ring, tugging her along beside me thoughtfully. I only realized how comfortable it felt to take control of her like that after I sat down and realized what I was doing, how she was crawling frantically to match my pace. It was the kind of thing that had once made me flinch with those thoughtless actions, how harsh they were. It was also the kind of thing that ensured I gave up on vanilla relationship attempts really goddamn early in life.

Except, with her... She stared up at me with adoring excitement, crawling along so eagerly that I didn't even have a chance to flinch over it. Her eyes lit up when I sat in a chair to the side and drew her between my knees, settling her there. "Place your hands on my knees, keep them there, and don't shift on your tracks to try to soothe the pain." Her eyes darkened with lust and I smiled when she obeyed. "Good girl. Let it sink in like a good little torture bunny. But I had a question." She looked up from where her hand stroked my knee and I smiled. "I tried asking Ash, but he couldn't give me the answers. Do you ever braid your hair and, if so, do you pull the braid when you're angry?"

Her eyes lit up and she hopped on her knees, carefully not brushing her ass to soothe the fire still there, suffering as she was commanded. "You know the books!" She glanced at her hands. "If I promise to not rub the pain, can I use my hands to talk?"

"No." I said it shortly, control settling into my harder edges in a way that soothed me. "Exercise self discipline and leave them where I said."

Her eyes darkened with arousal again, so that I felt all the more soothed with the fact that she liked me... for me. "Yes, Master." She breathed it and then kissed my thigh adoringly. "And I have not ever tried to wear my hair in a braid like that," she said with a giggle. Her hands twitched as if it was actual torture for her to hold them still. "It's long enough to, though."

I stroked her long, dark hair, the warm undertones a stark contrast to my own. "It is. It's the right color too, pretty bunny."

"What other books do you like? Did you like the ending of that series?"

I snorted. "I felt like the only way we were ever getting the ending of that series was when another author took over."

She giggled happily. "Speaking of that, I love any and every book in the Cosmere. You don't even understand. It's crazy. I have a word count in the millions of an investment in that universe."

"Oh? I haven't read any of his others, actually. I've mostly kept to the older authors. The Belgariad, Shannara, the epics."

She squealed and I felt a sense of deep ease and pleasure, of comfort at being able to talk about something like this with her. This was someone who liked me, who was okay with how awful I was, and she wasn't cowering in fear with these outside conversations. She had that golden, rare mental resilience that was as valuable as her masochism for me. "You have to! They're so good, like crazy good. And they're all feel good stories, too! All of them! And there's one that's so romantic. Dalinar is secretly my book world husband even if he doesn't know it. He's so dreamy and oh my gosh, the magic systems are a blast!" She talked on and on, while I smiled and asked soft questions.

And so the little bunny found a dragon's weakness, though she had no idea that she had found it. She talked eagerly and my more quiet nature enjoyed how hyper she was, how happy. Of course, I enjoyed the sensation of stroking my little future slave, petting her hair, delighting to how soft it was. She nuzzled my knees and my arms where I held her, staring up at me with no less adoration even if she wasn't still in my crafted nightmare.

Eventually, she started to wear down and I held up a rose when her sentences became more spaced, tugging it from its box in my duffel bag. Her eyes went wide at the sight of it. "Open your mouth."

Her obedience was without hesitation, both fearful and worshipful. She stared at the rose with trepidation until I let her see the thornless stem closer, and then I smiled and placed it on her tongue carefully, between her teeth so that she held it there.

After that, she was silent in my arms, holding her rose ever so gingerly. I closed my eyes and pet her while she cuddled closer and now that she wasn't thinking of more to say, she was feeling the effects of such an adrenaline rush, which was the idea. I hadn't gotten my fill of aftercare the last time, which had been on purpose with the type of game Ash and I had initially agreed on. But I fully intended to have it this time. I wanted her adrenaline crash to myself, where I could cuddle her and stroke her.

I was so far lost in her that I didn't even realize what time it was or how long I'd been holding her, after she went still and sleepy on my knee and I curled over her, stroking a thumb over her forehead while I considered the amorality of my intentions. Because my thoughts were how I was holding my slave and she would be my slave one way or another. It might be tricky with my friendship with Ash and Ivory, but she was mine and didn't know it yet.