Nightmare Master Pt. 02

He was hard, a torturer with the soul of a romantic. And he didn't get lighter either. His sessions were promised pain after promised pain. I wondered if his past playmates had started to develop something like a firearms type of flinch. When people shot, they'd start to anticipate the pain of the backlash and tense before it happened so that it fucked up the shot.

"What are we thinking about that we're so quiet, little rabbit?" There was strangely little sensation while he removed everything, using those sharps containers of his to dispose of the needles.

"I'm wondering about your past relationships and how you said you were divorced, Master."

"Ah. And what questions did that lead to?"

"Why they failed for you when you're so perfect and dreamy and evil."

He laughed above me. "This is just a guess, but I believe it might have been that last word that ended up being a dealbreaker, beautiful girl."

"But why does it work with me?"

There were clatters from the containers when he lightly dropped the needle hubs in them and he worked so quickly at removing them that it was disconcerting. It spoke of so much experience. "I'll show you why tonight. Actually, it would be my pleasure to show you." He kissed the back of my hair. "It's something that I think will make you more terrified that ever. Lay still while I clean you."

His words were never promising. It made me shiver and then I fell quiet with the soft terry cloth across my back, but that was only one of the deeply terrifying part of the clean up. But there were definitely things that were scary besides his threat, like how he seemed to enjoy the delight of cleaning his torture scenes as much as he enjoyed the setup, even if there was no longer a sense of demonic excitement about him. He seemed more like a purring cat after its bloody chase, calmly and lazily keeping his space sanitary. He sprayed off the table while I knelt to the side and he was so thorough, lovingly making sure his evil toys were cared for.

When he was done, he did another thing I was starting to enjoy, and that was grasp me by the scruff of my collar to tug me along beside him. Of course, even that had a sweet tang of fear from the gesture, because it wasn't even a cruel gesture on his part. It was just the type of thing that suggested that level of control soothed him and if he took pleasure in holding tighter to his little slave, then he damn well would do it. It made me bow my head obediently, made me feel like a harnessed rabbit, tinier than he was and skipping along at his side.

"I need to do a few things," was what he'd said and I appreciated the experience that made him end the scene so early before he had to get to those things. Because he certainly wasn't in any rush. He had left apparently as much time as he needed to end and make sure I was cared for, no matter how many aftercare hours either of us required afterwards, when I hadn't even orgasmed. I shuddered at the thought, remembering the inflation being released, the way my pussy had squeezed the toy in protest, wanting to be filled again, the walls almost painfully swollen with my arousal after the extended penetration... I had been a horny mess and his gaze when he studied the cum I dripped from his morning entertainment had been calmly distant, unaffected except for a vague amusement, so much that it made me burn.

"Here we are." He released my collar and I missed the controlling, forceful touch, but then I forgot about it when he opened the door.

At first, I clapped my hands to my mouth, squeaking. It was right across the hall from his room and slightly down from his office. And it was amazing! The bed was massive and circular, like something out of a fairy tale. There was a cage to one side and one of his evil suspension hooks hung from the center of the ceiling, but there were bookshelves, too, and- "Cosmere!" I squealed it and he smiled beside me.

But that's when the real terror set in because I danced inside the doorway and turned to meet his eyes and there was something there, something speculative. He watched me with a depraved look I couldn't quite discern. "There's a closet, although it's not as filled as I would like it to be, yet. You'll find it in sections. While in my house, you choose from the right side rack, understood?"

Oh, no. It started to sink in. My back throbbed a little from all the lingering soreness, fueling that deep terror. Past fears inspired by how quick he was with the forceps and rubber bands, how deliberate he was with the hammer, how adoring he was when he licked up any blood only served to amplify the sensation. "Yes, Master." I said it in a whisper and his eyes darkened with excited lust the way they always did. "What is... what is this?"

Darker than me. He pressed me back against the doorway, his lips brushing my forehead, and my heart didn't exactly race. This wasn't that kind of jump fear. This was bone deep, instead, and I whimpered with the thought of how much bigger he was than me. That morning he hadn't been feeling overly theatrical, as it happened, and his needle game had been for a lazy morning session on his vacation.

R and motherfucking R. I shivered when he lifted a hand to encircle my collar. For a moment, I wondered if he might kiss me with the way he watched me and lowered his face closer to mine, but he only licked my lips like he had before. Because slaves didn't kiss like that. They kissed and nuzzled their Master's cock instead. "Little slaves might find their lives easier if they don't ask so many questions." Oh, no. I whimpered and he chuckled, then tugged me into the room. He was going so fast, while I was stuck in the mindset that something was really wrong and I was in a state of denial about it. Except even in my denial, I couldn't ignore how elaborate that room was. But then my denial wouldn't face it outright and-

He carefully connected a chain to the ceiling hook and hooked the free end to my collar, short enough that I couldn't sit down. "Wait here for me, little rape bunny. I don't suggest you free yourself." He pointed to the wall and I followed the line, swallowing at the sight of the camera. His eyes were so excited, so dark with some awful intent. "I have a game in mind for tonight and I'll be a rather upset Master if you force me to forego it in favor of punishing you for disobeying. Behave." I nodded, too frightened to speak, and bowed my head, waiting on my short leash.

It was a good thing I didn't try to get free and go to the door, too, because he truly didn't take long at all to come back with my puppy bowls that he fed me from. When he sat them, he had the motions that I had seen in other Masters, this X factor that always turned me on. It was a kind of nurturing collectedness, a quiet intent to take care of someone. It was part of what made Masters so scary to me, actually, even if it was probably the softest quality they had. It struck me as erotic that my Master moved with that same intent, even if he was so very cruel in his games. That blend of cruelty and nurturing twisted together to form something that was both degrading and adoring, so that I knelt when he freed me from the leash and pressed my shoulders and I didn't fight when he tugged my collar to where he sat the bowls by the side of the circular bed. I hesitated, looking up at him, still more scared than I'd ever been in my life. But his smile was even and calm as always and he stroked my hair. "Eat, little rabbit."

Rabbit. Little rape bunny. Honey, because of the amount of cum I poured for him.

Demon masks. Red roses to match the color of my blood when he drew it. Darker than me. The real thing. Oh, no.

I ate, sniffling quietly, knowing better than to use my hands because slaves ate like puppies at Master's knees. "There will be sometimes," he said softly over me, "when I will have you eat here by yourself. You still eat like this like a good little Honey bunny. Understood?"

His tone demanded an answer, so I whispered, "Yes, Master," and ate at his knees, my pussy as drenched as I was terrified.

When he left, I felt... calm, at least, if stunned. He reassured both of us with a thorough checking and petting all over my body and left me cuddled in my circular slave's bed. After he left, I pushed the covers back quickly, and hopped out of the bed to open the door.

It was locked. I turned in a circle around me, taking in the books that I loved most, the hook from the ceiling. It looked so strangely exotic, in the way a Master might make it if he wished to flaunt how well cared for his little slave was. I couldn't keep from going to the closet and glancing at the shelves. There were ones with evening dresses that made me blink, ones with jeans and different types of shirts, all of which were form fitting. There were a few long sleeved ones and he'd claimed it wasn't overly elaborate at the moment, but to me it was far too elaborate. And then, of course, there was the shelf he'd specified, the only one he'd specified as a rule for when I had to wear it.

I sat down in the floor and stared up at the different styles of leather and lace and rabbit ears and fur, tugging my collar, which suddenly felt very tight, as if it choked me. And then my eyes fell on the piercing rings, little half hoops and barbells. I scampered from the closet and grabbed a spare blanket from the bed, throwing it over the cage to make sure it was covered up, and then I hid.

————

"How are we feeling, Honey?"

I shifted in all the ropes he had used for suspension bondage. There at the beginning, when he'd come to fetch me for playtime, I'd almost gotten enough will up to fight him. I'd even stared up at him from my rabbit cage and managed to ask through the terror and denial, "Are you g-going to let me up when you're done hurting me?"

His smile had been sadistic with that terrible excitement he always got at the sound of my fear. "Yes, little rabbit, and then it will be the same thing as last night. Bath and bed."

I'd nodded and taken his hand, wondering what I had done in coming to play with him. "Yes, Master." It horrified me a little then, that I didn't know his name and it felt right that I didn't. I followed him to the dungeon and he'd gotten to work with an elaborate form of bondage.

"I was going to keep the suspension a little more simple, but I think you need the comfort of more ropes for right now. Just relax and let it happen." Ropes, so many ropes like snakes, coiled ever so slowly around me, as if he had all the time in the world. He worked in that ease, with that dark background excitement waiting to come to the forefront and torture.

He was good at it. So, how was I feeling? Still terrified. But that wasn't what he cared about hearing. He was enjoying the sight of my fear. "Good, Master."

He paced away and chose a demon mask so that I shivered in my bondage. "I'm glad to hear it. Listen to how scared you sound, little slave girl. Let's work on directing that fear somewhere else." I shifted in the ropes that held me secure. Not a one of them was too tight or out of balance and the position he'd tied me in was a cradled one, with my legs spread wide open, my back exposed in places in a position that held me upright, almost like a secure swing. I squeaked when he walked back to me, when he caught some of the rope from behind and sent me swinging helplessly. It would have been fun if I wasn't in a dark, head fucked place. "Aww, not even a little bunny giggle."

I couldn't answer because I caught sight of the toys he had with him on the medical tray and got too distracted with begging for his mercy. "No! No, please."

He smiled. "Oh, but yes. Talking with you earlier, I think I told you that I was considering how I wanted to go about pain in a routine. I do love giving my slaves something to anticipate, but it came with other thoughts too. Like how I might go about choosing a day for your tits, your ass..." He stroked over my breasts with clover clamps and that was the toy that was the least of my worries. "Of course, I haven't played with your little cunt yet, but that's what tonight is for. And then I had the idea of how much you hate having your asshole fucked and played with and how maybe it would make things more bearable for a little slave if I were to choose a night to dilate and stretch your ass for you. Of course, I'd find ways to hurt it with fun electro toys and pepper based lubricants, but it does seem awful mean to force my slave to only have orgasms from assfuckings and pain without helping her."

I shuddered when he applied the clover clamps at the base of my nipples, choking for a moment with how terrible it was, noticing how he expertly placed the clamps so they wouldn't pincer into the holes. He crushed them from the top and bottom, rather than the sides where he'd pierced them and at first I wondered if his torture might be bad for that part, but then realized that people I knew took out nipple rings for better clamp use all the time and of course he'd know that with his needles and awful toys. He made me sniffle when he used two separate sets of clamps, one for each nipple, so he could attach weights to the other end of each. My teeth chattered when I sucked air through them and I shifted in my bondage. The wave of dizzy, stunning nausea, followed by the floating sensation of crazy adrenaline, was a mercy on his part, one that dissociated my mind from the preexisting terror I'd had along with the terror for the toy he lifted next. He held my gaze while he lubricated the most evil inflating dildo I'd ever seen in my life. And he'd mostly been kind with those toys, actually, although it felt more like that was because he'd been more interested in other forms of torture at the time. Somehow, I hadn't anticipated that he might cease to be nice with those toys and felt crazy for not expecting it. "Be a good girl for me and let's get it clear now. There's nothing you can do about it, there's no one to hear you beg except for me, and you're not getting free until I let you down. This goes in your ass, so I can squeeze the inflation and spread you nice and wide. You can fight me and I'll cane you until you give in while crying or you can behave. Either way, it happens and then I torture your pussy anyway."

I moaned, tears falling down my cheeks already, but it was more from a sense of desolate brokenness than anything. He smiled in satisfaction at the sight, a deep, sadistic sense of it too. I shifted in terror when he came back and spread the lubricant across my asshole, and whispered, "Thank you, Master," like a good, pathetic rabbit.

He was so pleased that he cooed with it. "How sweet of a rape bunny you can be. Just relax and take it while I gape your asshole into something more fitting of a torture slave." I whimpered as soon as he started and the toy was fucking massive, even when it wasn't inflated. The wide head nudged against my opening while he worked and he was smiling with how hard he had to press it to force it inside of me.

"It hurts! Please!" My clit pulsed with a horrifying amount of need when his smile only widened, his eyes cold and distant and so damned mean. "Please don't, please! It feels like-" I cut off with a shriek when he gave a particularly hard thrust, not that my words mattered anyway. I couldn't have used ones good enough to describe the terrible sensation. It was like I should be split open, an abrasive pressure of being spread far wider than anyone should be. I shrieked again with one more hard press, opening and closing my fists in my suspension bondage.

"That's it. That's the widest part of it... for right now anyway." I sobbed, actually sobbed, with that reminder. Mercifully, the toy was only obscenely wide, although not as long as some of the toys I knew he had on the shelf. Of course, the longer toys didn't fit his cruel purposes for the moment. He made that clear that his intention was to see me gape, not to necessarily stuff me. "Let's use a harness for you. I had to adjust and toy with a design specially for you and how much you hate anal, Honey. What do you say for my consideration?"

I sniffled when he came back with the strange harness to hold the toy in my ass, a design that ensured my pussy was bare again. And I thought of the room that was too elaborate, the room that locked from the outside. The room of a slave that had later to worry about with a Master who knew little of lenience. "Thank you, Master," I whispered.

"Such a good girl you're being tonight." He fixed the harness around me, a design that fit around the wide toy. And the toy was such that it wasn't a plug with a flange base to hold easier inside of me. It was one designed to stay wide to better gape and dilate my hole for him, but Master had cleverly used small straps and cords to hold the dildo in place, ones that ended up fitting like his usual harnesses in the end. By that, I mean that there was no way I was getting rid of it until he was done. "Let's see how much we can ruin that hole." I shrieked when he squeezed the inflation bulb and released it, widening the largest toy I'd already ever used, ass or pussy.

I cried in misery when he did it again. "Please! Please, stop, it hurts!"

"Aww, I know. We'll let you get used to that size for right now and go onto something else. How are these clamps? Maybe a little more weight will take your mind off having your asshole turned into a slutty fucking cavern."

I pant with the next padlock weights, then forced myself to breathe. My ass felt like it'd never be the same. It made me think of those gaping videos where the girl could lay still for hours and her hole still wouldn't be back to normal, after something like a double fisting. My world turned into that special place that only he had ever taken me to so far, that place where he ruled me because he had to when I couldn't even see through the haze of masochistic lust, couldn't think through the adrenaline blitzing through my body. It was even worse that I was swinging in suspension somehow, that all I could do was stay helplessly still and let the waves pulse through me.

He smiled when he came back to me, holding another of the tools he favored. And I didn't even have a word for what these were called, actually. They were something like forceps crossed with hideous clamps, but the eyes of them were huge and they crushed when they locked. I shivered when he stroked one down my cheek. "Now, that is a gorgeous look for you. Let me tell you about these fun things. See the weight lifting style weights?" I nodded to where he pointed, biting my lip at the sight of the 25 pound circular weights. Other sizes rested against separate dividers, too. "That's one of the things that these are for. They're rather terrible, if I'm being honest. You see, if I use these on your nipples instead of the eye screws I used last night, I can hang the hooks and chains from this center part. And they're so tight and heavy that the added weight isn't going anywhere until I'm through with my little maso slut."

"Oh, no," I whispered when I realized where this was going.

His eyes danced, excited. "You keep saying that and I keep answering the same way. Oh, but yes." He had eight of them on the tray and I breathed evenly when he lowered the first one and pinched the left side of my outer labia. "I might be subject to wishful thinking in the hopes to use so many when you have such a small little pussy, but we'll try." I choked when it fell closed, eyes going wide with the strange sensation. Somehow it hurt less than my nipple clamps in one way... and hurt way more in another. I struggled the ropes, whimpering, trying to squeal out a protest, but he was already on the second one.

"Please don't! Please, I'm scared!" I don't know where the words came from, don't even know if they were true. Actually I think they weren't true because I couldn't think straight enough to find any fear anymore. I just shuddered, unsure what to process and what I felt besides pain. My God, they really were heavy. He went to the inner labia and it only got worse. My vision blurred and I let my head fall back, then laughed one of those mad little sounds from before.