Nightmare Master Pt. 02

The devil I knew. I had thought that I would never know the wonderful torment that was the absolute broken hopelessness he had give me that one night. I didn't know how, but he had found a way to give me that sensation again and it wasn't in the way I expected. I had been ready for violence, had been braced for a wild night at Sulfur's where he would grab me and cover my mouth, snarling erotic threats in my ear. We had played that game.

This one was worse. This one was way worse. I bowed my head and shivered, then shivered harder when he reached over to stroke my hair, knowing it to be that twisted form he had of caressing his distraught little slave.

————

"No! No, please, stop!"

He laughed behind me in his dungeon and when we'd gotten to his house was when the ability to fight finally kicked in. He'd been gleeful when I ran when the door closed, chasing me to the fireplace while taunting me. "You know what's coming to you, you little maso slut. You're so fucking far gone that you couldn't leave until you were locked in with me and you're going to get what you deserve, what you know you deserve." When I'd managed to get away long enough to hide behind a sofa, he'd been a monster chasing me, like something in a horror movie. "Come out, come out and play, little rabbit. I just want to torture you until you scream and rape you a little bit. Come on, it'll be fun."

That last word was an emphatic snarl when he grabbed my ankle and I shrieked, letting the terror have its way. True, I couldn't protest him out in the light - because I was his - but here in the safety, where no one was around to judge and I was sheltered in the demon's haven where it was okay to be a maso, with the sadist bad enough that he could handle it when I loved to make it rape? I could be as scared and tortured as I liked and he could be the big, evil monster in the night.

And it was the most amazing thing I never hoped would happen when most sadists wouldn't even make me bleed. I had always felt like Drusilla from Buffy. "You won't even hurt me just a little bit."

But after that chase and after he took his prize to tie me in the dungeon was when the real pain came.

"No, I don't think I will stop. Come on, say it again for me. Say the words."

I sobbed. He'd already gotten my arms spread out over me, using chains and bolted ceiling hooks to hold me, and was fixing my ankles the same way, so that I felt stretched wide apart. And even worse was the head harness that forced my face up and back. "I'm a filthy maso slut and I deserve to be tortured."

"Good girl. It's so much better when you just admit to it, isn't it?" I was already fighting and the axe hadn't even fallen yet, the threat and promise of what this scene would be, and I thought it would be bad. I really didn't know how bad, though. "You know." His breath was hot at my ear when he finished. "I wondered how to do this. It did seem so lacking in drama to take you like that, but I really couldn't resist that hopeless look of misery you get. Your eyes glisten like you're about to cry and it's so damned cute. But then I thought that if I did it that way, I would have to make this scene a really bloody good one. I sifted through fantasies I'd had over the years, ones I rarely got to indulge, ones I never got to indulge, and others I hadn't considered. I thought about changing up the tit torture and we'll do that eventually, but it's one you've already got the idea of." I sniffled, waiting, dreading. My suffering was his to dictate... and he had already established that he didn't have any mercy. "So I kept considering. Over and over pain soothes you, little rabbit, for instance. I considered how it needed to be something to help you bask in all the torture, to let you fade back into happy slavery like a good girl. I wanted something that would be good enough to make you cuddle up in your cage without fighting, even if you know that this time you aren't leaving again.

"And I settled on a fantasy that I haven't gotten to make real yet, one I've been dying to live out. It's a sadist's perfect dream to have a little victim that's all his, one to mark from the tips of your fingers." He trailed up to stroke my hand while the tears started. "And down to your toes. All except your beautiful face and we won't mark that up, but everywhere else." Oh, God. It was going to take an age for him to do that and the amount of stripes it would be was more than anything I'd ever gotten to do. I shuddered, realizing why my head was pulled back, why he'd fixed my hair in pigtails to keep it out of the way. He didn't want me jerking too much when he marked my tits, for instance.

I was shaking when he pulled away, as best I could in my spread eagled, stretched bondage. I didn't even try to brace myself for it, although I wished I could find my way back to that slave mind from before. It'd be better somehow to wait for that amount of pain. "Please don't," I whispered one last time. "Please."

"So pretty." He sighed it adoringly. "But, like always, I think I will. Let's start with the cane on your thighs and ass. We'll have to switch things up for places like your back when there's too much vital there to hurt and we never want that, beautiful rabbit."

He came back with the evil cane that he loved the most. "B-because y-you can't really harm me when y-you want to keep hurting me for always."

He stroked my ass with the cane. "For certain, that's true enough, but I don't think it's the correct words. I think, little rabbit, it might be better to say that I'd sooner wound myself than do something unintentionally harmful for you. Or you might phrase it in a certain other way, one I'll condition you to know more completely than you know anything else in life. It's a concept I'm certain a masochist like you most definitely understands, but maybe hasn't placed in words yet."

I shrieked when the cane stripe slashed my ass, and he didn't go easy even though this was going to be a strenuous night. He made it clear he was done talking and this was the real thing, no going back, with the bridge burned. I closed my eyes and it made me grateful that he started with hard pain first, because I'd had one foot dipped in that quicksand still. It was like I'd had just enough leverage to hold myself out of it, but I didn't entirely pull back, because I was just waiting on an excuse to stop struggling and fall back under the warm, awful surface with him, where I so badly wanted to be anyway.

It took a little while, true. My ass felt like it'd never be the same and I was shrieking for him when he started with the cane on my thighs. He gave me a break to trail his tongue up my ass, while I moaned to the knowledge that he was laving up the blood. It earned me a chuckle and the pleasure of him pumping three fingers in my pussy, which spread eagerly open to accept him and sounded like porn.

That was when I laughed a little breathlessly, when I reached that place, that wonderful place that only he had taken me to, where pain turned into... I don't know the words. It became something wild, something fierce, something animal. This was him, who he was, and it was me, too, and I didn't feel guilty about it anymore when I reached that place in his dungeon.

"It's because you love me!" It was an excited, flirting cry, borne of something awful and dark, which made it all the more wonderful. He had reached that moment where he went to choose a mask and turned on his playful music and he cupped my cheek, standing to my side with the cane at my tits to start his marking there. The whip waited to mark up and down my arms and legs and back, where I knew he'd be more than careful enough with the kind of experience he had.

"What is?" He watched me, stroking the cane over my nipples in silent threat.

"Why you can't really harm me ever. It's because you have to keep me to hurt me more, since you hurt me because you love me."

"That's a good girl." He striped the cane over my tits and I yelped. "We'll call this another kind of kiss you're allowed, in your new life."

"Oh, please!" But I knew what to look for, what to see. It was in the way he smiled so freely while tapping the cane to strike me again. It was in the way his eyes blazed with that heat when he saw the mark he left and it gave him such possessive pleasure. There were a lot of reasons why it was love for us. My body was his to mark and he adored to mark it.

But I think the biggest reason was that he turned more into... himself in his dungeon. I think those weights he always seemed to carry with him were something that went with those feelings of self loathing and guilt that a lot of people had, those same ones that I used pain to relieve myself of. It was like he found me on his level enough that he could finally be who he wanted to be.

I was glad for that because that almost insane place was who I wanted to be, too. It was always almost insane, too, always almost a throw into madness, but never fully because he couldn't break me for the same reason he couldn't harm me. I wouldn't be as much fun to be around if I was truly broken or insane.

Well. That was my own romantic maso reason. Of course, for him, it was because of the love thing, too. Well, okay, and secretly, definitely, for me but it was just so much more fun to pretend otherwise.

I moaned when he paused his caning my tits to squeeze and slap them instead, tracing his thumbs over the lines on the curves. "God, Honey bunny. Just saying it's because I love you doesn't cover it, though. Sometimes it's painful, how good it feels. You suffer all of this for me, you play the worst games with me, and you let me abuse you in the worst ways. And the marks of it are..." He trailed off, staring down at the lines with this look that made me smile, even while I sweat a little.

"They're your kisses," I repeated with a giggle. "But they're better because they leave marks and you get to see me cry when you give them, every time." Because, even then, I was crying a little. It would always make my eyes water.

He lowered his lips to lick some of the tears in response, a soft purr escaping him. "Romantic little rabbit. I'm going to cover you in them, like a uniform I put in your skin. And soon, you'll start to think to yourself with every cane stripe that your Master is loving you. After that, it won't be long until you crave for the next thing you dread... and the next."

"Oh, no!" I yelped it again when he stood back, slicing the cane down my thigh so that he could hear me protest when his affection made him feel more violent. I tumbled through the sand, down into darkness, and let him curl over me like a demon possessive of the prey it intended to feed on forever.

The best thing about being an extreme maso slut, at least for me, is that I could have these insane romance fantasies and let myself have fun being crazy. And then when it was over, I could come back off the joy ride, like hopping off a roller coaster and jumping up and down to say, "Again, again!"

And now I had a gorgeous demon to let me ride it as much as I liked. Of course, it came with a price of enslavement, but when a price like that is really another roller coaster that's just as fun? Well, it's a little hard to mind it.

————

I moaned, rolling over on the floor at his feet the next morning. My Master was in his office, working, and now that he wasn't on a vacation, he was setting other routines in day to day life. He gave a small laugh above me, glancing down from his laptop. "Little rabbit, you're going to have to learn to be quieter on those days when I want you here at my side."

"I will, Master, I promise, but can I talk for just a little today? It's special."

"I suppose it is, at that. Go on, but understand that the next time I tell you to quietly bow at my side while I work, you'll suffer punishment if you make me regret my lenience today."

"Oh, yes, Master! Thank you for today. I'm so excited that my heart is going to explode and it's so special and you're so kind and evil! Look at how pretty you made me. It's so sore and dreamy and I'm such a maso slut and it's the best."

His laugh was even more pronounced at that. "Well, if I ever had doubts of your self security, I'm reassured for the time being, at any rate."

"Look at all my marks, Master! And the ones on my ass with the big paddle are like big abrasion burns..." I purred with that one. That had been absolutely awful after the cane stripes but he'd come back with a pale wooden, massive paddle and told me to count to 25 twice, once for each asscheek.

At that, he did look down again, with a kind of fondness. "I don't need your bad influence to have more of a reason to keep looking at them. Especially with that nightie and those rabbit ears."

I grinned because he'd let me choose those last two for myself. Because he was an awesome, awful, terrible, sadistic, wonderful, adoring Master. It had taken me an hour to find the right outfit to adjust it just so and I'd ended up with a lacy nightie that flared open down my abdomen. The sheer pink of it matched my perfect rape bunny ears and I was coated, covered, in marks. It'd been so wonderfully horrible. He'd been as bad as his word and everything! Whip stripes ran in lines down my ankles and the cane had left welts all over my tits and thighs and ass and a longer whip had been carefully taken to strategic parts of my back and when he'd finally released me from my tethers, I'd fallen because I couldn't even stand anymore. But he'd fallen with me, over me, in a frenzy, where he'd kissed the marks all over me, all of them, his tongue lapping where he could find blood, and I'd been so dazed I couldn't even protest when he lubricated himself and fucked my ass, whispering in my ear that I was his gorgeous slave and I was such a good girl and he had the intention to make me associate every last mark he gave me with how much he adored me. He'd pressed his cane welts and called them kisses, making me repeat it while he bit me, while he reminded me that slaves had different kisses with their Masters than others had together.

Every sore motion felt like heaven. "It's so beautiful and perfect! I'm so pretty and covered with love..."

My phone interrupted his reply and I lifted it up to show him, grinning, so that he rolled his eyes when he saw Pet's name on the messages. "Go on and use the mirror to take pictures and model. I know you want to. Look at me, little slave." His tone had turned hard on the last word so that I met his gaze seriously, remembering his emphatic voice telling me that slavery was not a game to my Master. "Play in here as you like. You do not leave my office and you will not ask to for a change of clothes."

I tried to suppress my grin, nodding. "Yes, Master." But he shook his head when it was apparently too obvious and I quit trying to hide it when I was terrible at doing so anyway, choosing to grin eagerly. I pranced in front of his mirrors and took the pictures while he chuckled wryly. I made sure to get all the lines and welts, especially the ones that had bled, and they were terrible to look at the next morning. Master looked up when I giggled at Pet's answers. "She's telling me I'm fucking crazy."

"She's also not a hard masochist, ridiculous rabbit."

I snickered. "I love hearing how bad I am from other people, though."

"You're at least as bad as me and that's saying something. When do you get your class schedule?"

"Oh, right! I got on early enough for all the times I signed for, it turned out. Here, I'm sending it right meow." I shot it to him in a message and he opened it. "Pet's in, like, half of them, too, and oh, oh! I just realized that we both have pretty collars now."

The most wonderful thing about my Master is how he let me have these moments at his knees and he was ever calm about them. "You do. If you're done, come back by me. I made it clear that I like you by my side, so when you're not busy, that's where you should be, little slave."

I crawled back to his side and happily sat there, resting my head on his knee and thinking he was the most wonderful, terrible, amazing, awful, patient, painful Master ever.

The night where he marked me all over was enough to break me back to where he wanted me, to drag me back to the mindset where I was a little possession, well tortured with his care. I went quiet when he went back to work, cuddling close, sore all over, almost asleep against his thigh.

"Master?" He looked down at me, eyebrow lifted, and nodded for me to ask. "What happens now? W-will it be like that weekend?"

His lips curved and he shut his laptop. "Now is as good a time as any to stop, I suppose." I swallowed when he got the riding crop from his desk side. Normally, crops were wonderful and not terrible, but I was so damned sore. "I let you have freedom too long before pulling you back to me. Let's go over some basics. What's your name?"

I smiled shyly up at him, nuzzling the crop when he stroked my cheek with it. "Honey. My name is Honey."

He tapped my lips in stern control. "Good girl. And what's my name?"

"Master."

"That's it. Who branded you?"

"You did."

"Who soldered your collar?"

I fell back to that night where it had seemed so terrifying. "You did."

"That's it." He crouched in front of me, crooking his finger through the O-ring of my collar so that I fell forward on my hands and knees. "The way things went was an oddity between us, it's true, but what I said that night still stands. You're my slave and there is no ring involved, save for that collar around your throat. There are other things to talk about, aspects of life that you will have input with and we will go over them this weekend together. For right now, what happens is you stay at my side, you obey what I say, and you suffer when I wish." He leaned forward to kiss my forehead because slaves of his did not kiss on the lips. His words were dark, soft, and emphatic when he whispered the rest. "This is what's happening. There's nothing you can do about it.

"And there's no one coming to save you."

I curled into his arms and whispered the rest. "And, really, is it such a bad thing?"

"Good girl. That's the spirit we like. Come on. It seems obvious that some of the relaxed leniency I've given you made you insecure. We'll go back to stricture until you're used to it." He tugged me with a hand at the scruff of my collar again and I smiled happily, bowing my head. "Let's go to my room so that you can serve me a little bit and get rid of that confusion right now. Tell me the ending phrases."

"This is what's happening," I repeated happily. "And there's nothing I can do about it."

And because my Master was an evil, perfect Master, he gave me a little pain as a reminder.

And because he loved me, he gave me just a bit more, with no one coming to save me from his love, although he was quite careful about keeping his love taps and kisses gentle, since I was so well adored to begin with.