Sadist's Fire Pt. 01: Begging

I blinked, his commands processing. "Yes, Master."

Even his eyes were soft for the moment and it was hypnotic for me. I stroked the fabric of his jeans with my chained hands, the metal clinking together with the motion, and the sound of it drew his gaze down so that he smiled in approval at the sight of my bondage. "My friend, as you call him. He has a name and he's not my friend. It's Dustin."

I wanted to ask more and then didn't have the guts to question. Instead, I nodded with the information he gave me. "Dustin," I repeated.

He stroked my hair and I nuzzled his palm. "He suffers me to give him the harder playtimes he wants, if I'm being honest about the exchange." Suffered him? I nodded, considering that. I couldn't really judge that because it was similar to what I was doing, suffering his cruelty in return for... I didn't know what for. I only knew that I craved more of him.

"And goes to his partner afterwards," I answered quietly.

He caressed my cheek. "Yes. As you so boldly noticed, I don't swing that way, but it's true what I told you. Females are softer than males and the harshest pain toys aren't often their thing. My odds of finding someone rough enough are increased if I go to males."

"That makes sense." And it did. Statistics were a point of clarity in the midst of whatever was happening between us, a welcome one. I moaned when he stroked one hand down to my breasts, his fingers caressing over my bared nipples. He stroked them gently, hand tracing a circuit of my tits.

"Just accept what I want to do to you tonight. I had a long day."

I leaned into his touch, hands trailing over his thigh and the musculature there, wondering if he was tense after that long day, wondering if he felt things like stress. Was this how he relaxed? His hand stopped its circuit at my tits and went back to my hair, then crossed to my lips where he pressed a finger into my mouth for me to suck and nurse it. "Yes, sir," I finally whispered around him, closing my eyes in bliss.

He went back to stroking my hair and lifted the water to my lips instead and I compliantly accepted it, gladly even. "You're a weapons engineer," he finally said quietly.

"Yes, sir," I answered, and my voice was calm, eerily so. Despite my terrors, or maybe because of them, I felt a strange sensation of peace in this man's care and presence. And it didn't shock me that he knew I was a weapons engineer. It seemed the most natural thing that he would take advantage of publicly available knowledge, although the thought of him scrolling through, say, Facebook did seem strange for me. Not because he was too old or seemed out of touch, but because he seemed as if he should be among more mystical surroundings, not normal tech. "Since I finished my degree."

His hands were still on me and I had the image of a pocket watch being swung before my eyes. I willingly fell to the lull of his touch, lifting so he could more easily toy with my nipples or trace my lips as he wished. But I payed attention to every word he spoke as well, respectful to him. "That's rare. Most have to experiment. Did you have any doubts while getting your degree, any trials that made you hesitate?"

"No, sir. Well, no more than the basic curiosities. The science buildings were on one side of the campus, while most liberal arts were on another, and I remember sometimes having to go across for requirements like English and that the atmosphere felt different at times. I wondered if a liberal arts path would be less stressful, then didn't care." I hesitated, then smiled shyly. "Although, Dr. Harris' Vector Calculus class almost broke me at times. I had to smoke or eat THC before some of those tests because it was the only way some things made the most sense."

A blush crossed my cheeks at the confession, that math weirdly made more sense to me when I was on a substance and that I had, for whatever insanity reason, made a career out of a lot of that math, and I couldn't quite meet his gaze. I instead stared at his torso, my chains rattling when I stroked his knees. So at first when I heard him make a soft sound, it stunned me. It took me a full few seconds to recognize that sound.

He was laughing, with calm and delight in his voice. I looked up to see his smile and it transformed his face. He looked younger and beautiful, his dark hair swept back like usual, and the gray that kissed his temples looked sexier than ever. Rather than the stern appearance I was used to, there was even a spark of light warmth in his eyes, a contrast to the petrifying cold I had seen. I felt my lips curve up, into a grin of delight at having pleased him.

"Dr. Calloway?" I squeaked, in sheer terror at the voice that spoke behind me. The circle of his influence, of his protection, had encompassed everything and I had forgotten that the place around me even existed. There was only him, and I quivered, having jumped to his leg and hidden by his side, as close to under him as I could get. The voice wasn't even mean or dominant, wasn't something I should ever be afraid of, but I cowered beneath my master.

My leash was held taut in his hand and he pressed his thumb to my lips. "Quiet, little plaything." I shivered at the form of his addressing me and nursed his digit, sucking like a kitten. "How can I help?" I shivered again when he spoke over me, remembering the softly professional way he had first directed at me.

"Ash said to talk to you about something." The male voice spoke with a sense of hesitancy and I glanced up to see the man looking at me, curiosity in his eyes.

And an interest that made me shiver, a very sexual interest. I fearfully curled into the hand that stroked my hair, still serving the fingers in my mouth, wondering if my master intended me to serve in other ways. But of course I knew the answer to that. If it amused him to see me serve, he would command me to do so. He didn't give that command yet and I nuzzled him lovingly, curling to his protection, to his horrifying sadism.

"I assume he told you to start with those words." I recognized a slight, dark amusement in my master's voice and my lips curved up around his finger. His darkness was infectious and I understood something from the exchange. My master would respect someone like Asher Lavrov and Lavrov would know to send a potential client to Master. He would also know that Master wouldn't care much unless Lavrov added his name to it.

The insights I had had to the dark god above me had revealed much. He wouldn't have needed to care at all. His personality was such that he wouldn't feel like caring unless there was some reference involved, which told me that, with his job, he must have relied on pure talent. That was something I found rather impressive when his stature and personality were not approachable entities and he had a resume that involved celebrity names.

I sucked his thumb with the enthusiasm inspired by how empty my pussy felt, just by the pleasure it gave me to be in his presence. His hand paused its stroking in my hair when I smiled, then stroked down my cheek in a silent speech exchange between us. He might not have known the exact reason why I was amused and suddenly so very horny for him, but he knew the emotions. He thrust his thumb forcefully between my lips, fucking it in and out.

"He did." Lavrov had the measure of my master then. I delicately pet his wrist, a loving little gesture. The voice above me was sheepish, submissive.

"I don't want to talk business at the moment, since it's off hours, but I'm interested. Here's the card and I'll be in the office ‪at 8 tomorrow‬. If I don't answer, I think you'll like my secretary. She's wonderful."

But of course she would be. He was clever enough to hire a safeguard, a buffer between the abrasion that was his personality and the rest of humanity. I tilted my head in a worshipful manner. You're so godlike, master. So resourceful. My tongue was light and begging on the pad of his thumb. Even the man above me seemed respectful in his answer. "Of course. Thank you. May I ask about-?" He didn't finish the sentence and my master withdrew his hand from me, so that my lips felt empty. It seemed strange for a drunken moment, that he should stop abusing my mouth before it was swollen in appearance.

My leash was tugged and I followed it to where he commanded, curling between his legs. He leaned down to speak low in my ear. "When I show you off like this, cup your tits and spread your legs to display your pussy. You're a sex toy and my whore, remember? Act like it."

I obeyed, going hot and needy. I looked up at the stranger speaking to my master and placed my palms beneath my breasts, lifting them in offering. I spread my thighs as if ready to take cock, remembering the last session where anyone could have used me. The leash choked me with how tight my master held it and I stared up at the submissive male, more sexual than I had ever been in my life. Calloway spoke above me. "You can ask about my toy." I blushed fiercely, the lines between real life and this fantasy blurring in a terrible way. This was someone who had approached my master about, presumably, body modification or some other cosmetic surgery. And he stared down at me with a sense of awe in his eyes, a look that made me shudder. I had the most surreal sensation of being an exotic, or beautiful, slave and of being used to make my master appear even more distinguished or terrifying. There was a strange disconnect that made me lift between his legs, cum running thick over my thighs.

"Your toy."

Was he a male sub? It disappointed me if he was, but it also didn't matter. Everyone who could approach my master was someone above me. The dominance was only something that would make me more comfortable with my position at my master's feet, but not one that truly mattered. The leash was strict around my throat, the collar tight, but if I could go back I wouldn't want either changed. I gazed up at the man who stared down at me and arched my tits to make myself more enticing. My master stroked my hair. "Yes, and you can fuck her again, but not tonight."

Again. My hands tightened where they cupped my tits in such a slutty manner, understanding making my pussy clench in sheer lust. His words weren't meant for the man I stared at and I knew it by the way his free hand cruelly cinched my nipple when he spoke. The leash held me so close to him and I stared up at the man above me with all the arousal inspired by this twisted encounter. This was who had fucked me during the last session I'd had. This was the man who had so abused my pussy before my master had found me filthy and dissatisfying. God. It was terrible and... and...

It was the greatest thing that had ever happened to me. I know I kept saying that with everything my master did to me, but they were all so fucking amazing, every one of them. The man, submissive as he was to my master and as low as I was to even him, smiled at me wickedly. "Of course. I just wondered. Thank you again and I'll talk with your secretary tomorrow."

He walked away and the exchange was lost in the millions of exchanges of the world, but not to me. I was still held up in reverential offering, still dazed and delirious. My master held the leash taut and bent forward, speaking low in my ear again. "I can smell your fucking cunt from here. Do you want to finger yourself, little fucktoy?"

A toy. Oh, yes. I was most certainly his toy, the only thing that was less than an animal, less than even the male who was submissive to him. I hadn't even recognized that man as any kind of dominant type or sadist and yet I had already been a toy for him too. I shifted, in a private form of misery. "I- y-yes- no, Master? I don't know, Master!" Tears sprang to my eyes again and I quaked, a little mess where he held me.

"No? Try to explain it, then. Go on and do the best you can." His tongue gently trailed across my temple.

I spoke without thinking, only knowing the darkness inspired by his intense blend of cruelty and whatever kindness had been the beginning of the night. "I'm a toy," I sobbed miserably. "A set of holes for use. Toys don't masturbate. Toys are used for it. Toys are foul and dirty and don't deserve their own pleasure." The tears fell and my leash was tugged again so that I was forced around between his knees, facing him instead.

His cock was so fucking hard from making me cry, huge enough for me to instantly turn my gaze to it. I parted my lips with a gasp, and trembled enough that my chains rattled again. "Good girl," he said, voice twisted and approving. My eyes shot to his and I shivered at the glance of triumph he seemed to have, the tears in my eyes still there, but lessened slightly. His approval was both terrible and made things easier. "You're right. Toys are foul and filthy and they don't deserve their own pleasure. Toys also require maintenance and they're worthless when they're broken." He spat again and I moaned when it hit my cheek, shaking in the worst kind of desire. I was forced to admit that it made me thrilled when he did that, too, because my pussy clenched and the cream from it made a mess on the insides of my thighs even while I trembled. I turned hot all over when he manipulated my leash with one hand and undid the zipper that restrained his huge cock with the other, so that the thick rod of his flesh was finally in my face. My mouth opened in worshipful greed, an action that was so instantaneous it was sick and he laughed at me, having to hold me back from taking him in my throat. And instead of despairing to the thought of him laughing at me, I thrilled to my master's cruel amusement even while tears stung my eyes again. He made a cooing sound above me. "Easy, little fucktoy. I know you're a filthy fuck and you're horny and eager, but you need to listen to me and obey first and foremost. Understood?"

I was so terrified of him that it was very understood. "Yes, Master," I answered softly.

"What did I say my day was like before?"

My eyes stayed on his and I answered instantly, even desperately. "Long, Master. You said your day was long."

He paused for a second, studying me where I ignored any painful arousal I felt. Because I definitely did ignore it. My deified master tested me on his needs and my attentiveness to those needs and I was a slave at his feet, one that was fervent and needed to reassure him. "Good girl," he finally answered softly. "For future reference, it will be often that I have long days. It happens. When it happens and when I get hard, I want my toy to blow me nice and slow, understood? I want a throatfucking long enough to make me forget how long the day was. I'll give you hints for any pace changing, but beyond that, I want you to take your time and give me a nice toy use."

I shifted closer between his legs, nodding. "Yes, Master."

He fitted himself with a condom and I stared, eagerly bowing my head when he stroked his hand in my hair and pulled me forward. I opened my mouth and throat, bracing for what I already knew was coming, which was pain and soreness from how large he was and what he expected of me. I already knew that I wouldn't be allowed to lazily blow him and use my hands for what wouldn't fit down my throat. I knew that from his other time using me. Just the thought made me want to cringe.

I forced myself down to his base, pulling back to lick my lips so I could go farther... then farther... a little more. He sighed above me when I swallowed him down and had no more left to take. I stayed like that for a bit too, getting used to the feel of deepthroating him so I could better do it the next go and the next, taking comfort in the knowledge that it got a little easier to take with each time. His hand stroked my hair and I finally lifted up in a slow motion. A long day, he'd said. So he wanted a longer throatfucking to make him forget about it.

I closed my eyes and licked, my lips curving up at times in a blissful smile. He'd also said that he had long days a lot and it was a fact that made me thrilled. Because I loved getting to be used like that. It was something that would become my favorite thing ever. Every lick I gave was adoring, every stroke of my mouth was dangerously infatuated. It was the most wonderful thing in the world to get to serve my demon in such a leisurely way. The soft fabric of the lingerie he'd dressed me in felt all the lighter and more delicate. My collar felt slim and gentle and my cuffs gleamed under the soft light, small black bands of my subjugation.

Eventually, I sucked him deep again, lovingly caressing my tongue over the head when I pulled back up, and that time he spoke above me. "Finger yourself until you cum. Like I said, toys are useless if they're broken. Take what you need and do it now, where I can see how much of my whore you are."

It was carelessly said in that cruel manner that made me shiver, but I didn't cower from it anymore. I let the delight work inside of me instead, enjoying the condescension in his permission. With his cock still down my throat, I curled close so that I could stroke my clit, my chains rattling at the motions. The sound made me moan and I delighted in sucking him off all the more. Pleasure filled me, along with so much humiliation and submission. The mixture was a dangerous concoction that made me feel high, so high, as if I was floating. The world fell away again until there was just my master and I and the rest didn't matter. Everything faded and it was perfect that it did because every sense of mine zeroed in on serving and pleasing him, on revering him. I came with a shudder while he lazily twirled my leash in his hand. He let me up from his cock to finish my orgasm and I got the chance to look at him, to see how he was so casually relaxed in the chair. It was sexy as hell, how he was leaned back, his head tilted slightly in catlike decadence. He opened his eyes to glance down at me, a faint smile crossing his lips.

And then the moment was over and I was back to blowing him, wondering what image we made to others before I forgot about others again. His breath hissed between his teeth an immeasurable amount of time later. And I thrilled when he grasped my head and held me down on his cock, his hips thrusting slightly when he orgasmed.

"Good girl. Stay here." He placed my leash in my mouth and I held it, curled up by his empty chair and a little dazed with joy, stunned that I had gotten praise from my cruel master. And then I glanced up and realized I had been watched, as if our thing had been a scene. I curled closer to the chair, shy and afraid without his presence over me.

And then he was back, having quickly cleaned up, with his jeans zipped and buttoned again. I dropped the leash when he held out his hand for it and when he sat down, I hid between his legs again, resting my head on his lap, happy when he allowed me to do so. I calmed to his touch, wondering when things had gotten backwards, when I had started to see him as protection rather than something I should be protected from.

And then, of course, eventually the magic had to end. He unclasped my collar and reached down to free me from chains I never wanted to be free of and I must have made a pathetic sight when I looked up at him to take my clothes because he touched my nose with a small smile. "There, there. It's not so long for this time. ‪Friday at 7‬."

7 again! I nuzzled his palm, wondering if that meant something like this again.

But it turned out I was fortunate for the week and got a surprise on Thursday.

————

I was at the mall after work, looking for new rings for my different body piercings and a new stuffed animal to adopt. But also because I loved the speed of the mall in such a large city. When there were so many people, everyone was always in a hurry and everything was always frantically paced. The energy never failed to make me excited, like a pick-me-up. Even if I was depressed for whatever reason, I could come to the rush for a small thrill of a sort and come back to life. And I was just deciding which store I wanted to go to first, deciding on if I wanted to get a pretzel, when I looked to a window on my left and did a double take.