Nightmare Master Pt. 01

Oh, God, and that. Those pervasive little rituals. I kissed his cock through his designer jeans and he had foregone the suit that night, not that he needed it. He wore a leather jacket with matching leather gloves instead and I nuzzled his hand when he stroked me. "Good evening."

It was breathless and he laughed. "Good evening back. Come here, little bunny. Did you have fun modeling and being a tease?"

I lifted up how he manipulated me, thrilling to the small sparks of pain when he used a hand in my hair to control me. "Yes, Master. I'm sorry I was a tease."

"No, you're not." I giggled and lay on the table the way he settled me, then moaned when he lifted the heavier fabric of the dress, baring my ass. "Then again, you shouldn't be, I suppose."

"Oh, please..." I whimpered to the way he stroked up the back of my thigh. He tugged the rolling chair to my side and took off his leather gloves, watching me through the same demon's mask he'd worn while caning me. I kept my head tilted to the side so I could see him, fascinated in a twisted way with how he looked at the tracks.

It wasn't anything like the way Pet's eyes went wide with horrified dread or the way Ash studied it to see how my "date" had gone. Master's eyes were dark with something that could be mistaken for lust, except I'd seen his lust and what caused it. This was darker, deeper. He caressed the lowest line, tracing it, and the mannerisms were more satisfied and adoring than they were lustful. "How sexy. Did you like them?"

"I loved them." I whispered back to him and closed my eyes, feeling like I was falling through a never ending mental abyss. Was this how slavery felt like for Pet? I wasn't sure, but if it was, then I never wanted to leave it.

"I think my favorite picture was with that black sheer thong." His hand disappeared from stroking me and then I yelped when he spanked a mark. Hard. But that dissolved into another moan when he went back to stroking.

His spanking again made me shiver because it was nothing like other times I'd had it happen. It was with the intent to hurt, rather than the intent to be erotic. I loved the way he didn't try to entice with pretty images. He went the other way, the way of horror, and went for twisted torture images. "Thank you," I gasped, then moaned when he spanked another mark before stroking me again, his fingers trailing across the welts. It only got better, too, when he slapped again, then leaned forward and licked up one of the lines before he pulled back again.

"It made me realize a problem with my next scene with you, the first one in my dungeon." A shiver ran down my spine at the reminder because I knew it was going to be awful. The first scene in his dungeon. God, what would ever make me agree to go to him and his own domain for an entire weekend? "What I have in mind isn't going to leave many marks like these, pretty bunny." He spanked three times rapidly, so that my skin started to burn. "But since you liked them so much, we'll have to see what we can do to fix that."

Oh God, I'd only enticed him to give me more pain. I shuddered when he leaned forward and kissed the marks again, laving his tongue up over them, massaging his hands over my ass in a circle while he did. And then it sank in that maybe I hadn't actually done anything because he seemed to love the marks enough on his own. So maybe I'd always had that extra pain waiting. "I'm going to make you scream," he whispered. "And there's not going to be anyone around to hear a thing, even if they could. There's no one at my place besides me and no one who will save you, little rabbit." I cried out when he stroked his fingers between my legs, gently massaging up my slit to feel how drenched I was. "Ah, you like that thought. Naughty little maso." He slapped both hands down on my ass cheeks brutally and I felt like I could melt. He was so freaking mean... And it was the best thing ever. He soothed back over the pain he was flaring with soft strokes over the marks and I felt dizzy, with the blend of softness and of cruelty in how he made the tracks flare all over again.

Because his spanking did feel soft to me by that point, even then. And that's what made it sink in that this was his version of romance, when he was being light enough that I wouldn't protest him in terror, when I wasn't crying. It sank in that he wasn't going to fuck me that night... because I wasn't begging him to stop or telling him no and that was how I got cock from him.

And then it sank in that I was already getting used to that fact. I shivered under his palm when he slapped, lovingly twisting a cane line to make me shudder and whimper. This was his romance. This was his version of needing to see me because he missed me, his version of a date.

I started to get truly terrified for Friday.