Sex Slave's Enormous Problem Pt. 03

I knocked. Waited. Bren answered.

"Hi." I said, in slight shock. Of course he'd be on this shift, they alternated rooms every night.

"The client awaits you in the dungeon." Bren's words were strong and calm, no inflexion with regards to our previous talk. Strangers in the night.

I nodded and removed my robe as I entered the waiting room. This room was like the others, the contrast to the dim hall was startling. Everything was in shades of silver and grey. It had a very relaxed feel, intended to help with the debriefing from sessions, games... scenes...

Large overstuffed sofas with blankets and throw pillows in various shades made the room feel like the inside of a storm cloud. I handed my robe to Bren and the memories started to come, slow at first. I tried to block them but they insisted. Flashes of pain, pleasure, all wrapped up together. Hours, days, weeks of need, wants and complete consumption in a world that didn't exist but to my body was all too real.

"Are you ready?" Bren asked.

I nodded, already settling into the familiar role.

I felt strangely calm, all the anxiety of the day seeping away. I walked slowly over to the entrance, the soft thick carpet making it difficult to stay balanced, well, for most people. This place was like home, a very unhealthy one.

I opened the solid wooden door, silver of course and walked in. The smell, oh holy god. Caleb.

Masculine musk and leather filled my senses. My palms, damp, wanted to reach out and touch everything. The room was obsidian, like walking into pure darkness and the bondage equipment that lined the walls sat in precise lines exactly as before, just slightly less black than the rest. The only light came from gold, inset lights that made the walls glow. To the right, an enormous bed with an ebony frame and silk sheets that shimmered like jewels took up so much space. To the left, two huge leather chairs sat on high legs with great curved backs.

The client sat in the one to my left; he draped his solid muscular form over it like a living, breathing blanket. His tight, black jeans blended seamlessly with the chair and the shimmer of his pearlescent white shirt gleamed against the darkness, the contrast startling. His long legs dangled over the side, his torso lay flat, sinking into the cushion. He hadn't heard the door; I'd always enjoyed when he didn't know I was in the room.

The door clicked back into place and his head whipped around. It was like a cool glass of water after trekking through the desert, like time had stopped, the whole world frozen. Our eyes met and he moved so fast it didn't register until he was two feet from me.

I stared at him like I could absorb him by sight. His eyes were a golden brown and smiled at me even though his perfect lips showed nothing. His short, almost black hair looked dishevelled and his matching eyebrows were raised with a mixture of anticipation and confusion. As he stood there, all tall and masculine, covered in smooth skin that was naturally tan, I couldn't remember why I'd stopped this.

"Mistress." he whispered.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, the addiction and the power.

The questions rolled off my tongue like liquid metal.

"Limits?" I demanded, firm but soft.

"Same." He replied

"Safe word?" I added

"Black."

"Non-verbal?"

He raised his hand to show me the ring, it changed colours when the button was pressed and the wall lights changed to reflect it.

"Punishments?" my voice almost cracking, but it held.

"No change. All in play." he breathed heavily.

I paused; the next question would be it, no turning back. Like I could have anyway. I'd been done for before that door had opened.

"Do you consent?" my voice harder now.

He smiled, all perfect white teeth.

"Yes, Mistress." Sultry, sexy, perfect.

The stage was set.

I turned towards the mountain of equipment and strode over, letting my ass do the talking. I know he was watching me and he would stand there as long as I let him, as long as I allowed it. The rush was incredible. Caleb Winchester, at my mercy once again, or maybe I was at his... that was the problem, wasn't it? Dee, I was here for her. The thought was sobering but only until I ran my hand over the leather stand. Home. I looked over at him and took in all six feet and god knows how many inches of perfection and pushed months of abstinence and pain into one sentence.

"Take off your shirt, by the buttons, slowly. Then fold it and place it on the chair." My voice held all the authority of a queen.

He started to act but hadn't said a word. So this was how he was playing it? Well, two could play at that game.

"Chester?" I said, my tone holding all the disappointment I could muster. The pet name that I called him when I was unhappy making his eyes harden for a moment. There was no one who got him like I did, sure as shit, nobody knew all of his dirty little secrets like I did.

"Are you trying to make me unhappy?" that disappointed tone holding strong.

"No mistress."

"You're making me unhappy, Chester." my tone harder.

"I'm sorry mistress."

"Shall we try that one more time? I know you may be a little rusty." the humiliation of the words cut him, the insinuation that he would forget the rules by accident punishment enough.

"Take off your shirt, by the buttons, slowly. Then fold it and place it on the chair." again, solid and unwavering.

"Yes, mistress."

"Very good." I added, a slight upward tilt to my mouth; we needed to get back to the trust. It hurt somewhere I didn't want to look too closely at. His attempt to provoke me showed the trust was dented. I should have expected it after so long but it didn't mean it wasn't difficult. My body was held erect by the heels but I was shaking inside. The routine of it all felt so natural, so easy, that I could practically feel the pieces of myself falling back into place.

I watched him reveal inch after inch of his amazing, athletic body.

"Now the trousers, take it slow."

He was bare foot and wore no underwear, so when he was done his gorgeous, naked form was exposed. Part of the torture for me was getting him redressed until later and doing this all over again. I pulled out a pair of leather chaps with a thong and lace up crotch; he was only partially hard so he wouldn't be in too much discomfort while putting his very substantial self into them. The top was basically all straps, like my outfit but it gave the illusion of being bound and had lots of hoops and buckles for texture.

"Get dressed, quickly. You have one minute." I ordered

"Yes mistress."

I admired the swift accomplishment of the task, the timer was only just coming to an end as he clipped the last buckle into place. Darn. I was trying not to salivate.

"Come over to the stand and put your arms behind and above."

"Yes mistress."

He moved like molten lava, smooth, hot and consuming.

The beam he stood against had flexi-straps, so when I tied his hands together above his head and linked them to the beam he still had movement. He could pull them down to his waist if he liked but it was an effort. He had to work for every inch. The heels made me slightly taller than him, which helped me to reach. I pressed myself against his side as I handled him. His body froze. I paused for a second and then stepped back. Admiring the view.

This where it began, the reason why I fell so hard.

"Caleb." His head whipped up, his mind clearly wandering.

"Kiss my ankle." the words like fire.

"Yes mistress."

He moved towards me and I pushed my foot out into his path. He knelt as far as he could, his arms straining and I rested my heel on the stand in front of him.

His mouth moved towards me, every inch bathed in anticipation. His shoulders strained and as his lips touched my skin I let out a hiss. The perfect teeth that had flashed at me earlier were now edging towards the sensitive part of my ankle. The straps from my shoes making it an effort.

"Now use your teeth, gently, low pressure." I added.

He did and my resulting moan made him tense. I think he was shocked. He ran his lips and tongue around the bones in my ankle like he was a starving man licking ice cream.

That was the thing with Caleb. He would have gotten the call from the Superior, been shocked, excited and thrilled that I was back but also wary. I hadn't left on the best of terms. My relaxation into our old patterns had both calmed him and put him on edge. I'm sure that the constant conflict of emotions was making him hard under all that leather. He knew he was safe, we'd established that a long time ago but the ring also protected him, as a heart rate monitor,. The Superior was alerted if it got too high and she would check in with Bren, who was her eyes and ears here. He was in the other room, listening.

As he relaxed, the play began in earnest.

I had him lick as far as he could go and then bite my inner thigh. Teeth were one of the things I just adored. The pressure of it, the texture and the threat that the person could really hurt you if they wanted to, what a rush. His reward, claws. I dragged one metal nail after another down those perfect abs. I could see him finding it hard to breathe. His eyes rolled back in his head. The more pressure I applied the more he panted, eventually going limp in the restraints and falling forward a little. Then the resistance kicked in and he stopped. I released his arms, with the order that he wasn't to use his hands, then had him kneel and finish licking up my leg. The slow, long tongue strokes were torture for us both. My hands were clenched, the claws digging into my hand. He took his time and made as much eye contact with me as he could.

Caleb loved to touch, so not being able to from will power alone was torture, the good kind. My heart was pounding as his mouth got closer and closer to where I wanted it. He was nearly at his prize when I made him stop and back off. I grabbed one of the standard vibrators from the display and moved back onto the cushioned bench that I had rolled over from the other side of the room. It was like a chaise. Adjustable, so I made it tall enough that his face was level with my pussy and started to fuck myself, teasing. I slid it in slowly, the dripping juices of my pussy making it far too easy. When his eyes were practically begging, I ordered him to take it in his teeth and fuck me with it. He did. His face brushed up against me as the warm, wet, synthetic cock filled me. Holy shit, this was good. Watching me, but not being able to touch; he was whimpering and shaking within minutes. His face was covered in my fluids. My insides were throbbing and the orgasm was hovering on the horizon. The straps of my outfit cut into my skin just enough to create a delicious friction and I felt amazing.

The carefully constructed emotional walls I'd built were starting to crack and it was getting harder and harder to remember why I was here.

I wanted to hate this but I was loving every single thrust. He moved harder and faster, sensing my orgasm. The waves of pleasure radiated from my core, my hands found my clit and my nipples, insides clenching as the ecstasy consumed me. I relaxed back on to the chaise and gave him the order to pull the toy from me. There was a delay, so I looked to him to see what was wrong. He was just staring. Mouth around the bottom of the vibrator, eyes wide in awe.

"Chester. I said to pull it out and place it on the floor. Do I need to ask twice?" My voice still heavy with orgasm. Trying to be firm. Mostly succeeding.

He stayed still, a fraction of a pause like he was coming back to himself. I should let it go. It's been a long time but that wasn't how this worked.

"Oh, Chester. Now you've been bad...Do you remember what we do to bad slaves?"

He snapped back into himself, head shaking slightly before he could catch it.

"Where, oh, where did I put that blindfold?" I started towards the drawers in the back wall and pulled out a long length of material. It was slightly transparent as to let in light. Caleb Winchester didn't like the dark.

I picked up my whip as I moved back towards him, a long, thin cane and I lifted him by putting the tip of my whip under his chin. I secured his hands by his sides and tied the material around his face, just once so the light still came through. His panting due to the anticipation of even a little restriction in his vision, helped to make it seem darker than it was. His heart was pounding, his palms tightening into fists. I ran the cane up his thighs; he liked a touch of pain. He whimpered as the cane got to his more tender spots, his cock bulging within the material of the chaps. The cane trailed his thigh, a quick tap just to bring his attention back, I know his mind wanders. Then up that flat, golden stomach and another quick slash, harder this time. He moaned, part pleasure part pain. I stepped in close and whispered,

"Have you missed me Caleb?" he froze, a breach of protocol, the questions in this section of the game are never about me, always about him and his life. I ask and he answers, like therapy I suppose. If I don't like the answer, well there's always more blindfold.

He nodded, slowly. In that moment the dam breaks. All of the wanting, the thrill of the illusion of power slammed into me and I felt bliss, better than any orgasm.

"I will ask a question and you will answer, slave. Reply 'yes' if you understand. "

"Yes."

"How is the business?"

"Going well." his voice is like caramel on apples, sweet with a little bite. Clients don't speak about the outside but our arrangement subverts it. Him telling me things I shouldn't know, well. that's just part of the fun.

"Your wife? Is she well too?" I ask, not really caring for the answer but I know bringing her up makes him annoyed, which makes him horny.

"Yes, she is well mistress." his words drip disdain.

"It sounds like you're unhappy with me, slave?" I press the tip of my claws just under his ribs.

"No mistress." the disdain is gone, just pleasure. His eyes close as he basks in it.

I get as close as I can, it's time to play my hand. I press the full length of myself against him. My pert tits against his chest, my exposed pussy against the leather pouch. His cock is straining to escape. I run a claw under his crotch, adding pressure so he can feel it through the material of the chaps. He growls and shudders.

"I used to think you had the biggest cock I'd ever seen, until the other night," I whisper into his ear. He goes still. Not a question, so he doesn't answer.

"Apparently that isn't so," I add with a little venom, sparking his jealous streak.

"Did you know that Caleb? That there is someone with more...substance than you?" the smile fills my words, "Answer me, slave."

"Yes." He replies, the words laced with anger, he is not happy at all with this. Oh, fun.

I drag my teeth along his ear.

"Yes. What?"

"Yes, Mistress." He moans.

"Shall I ask this man to fill me? To watch me scream? Hmmm, I would need his name for that, wouldn't I?" I pause, "Answer me."

"Yes, mistress." contempt is rolling from him; so much I can taste it.

"What is his name, slave?" I ask, adding a little more pressure to the front of his body.

"Luca, mistress. His name is Luca de Vitro."

"Is he a friend of yours?"

"Yes, mistress." He's shaking from the strain of the play. He wants this but it's against the rules. Part of me loves it, part of me hopes he will forgive me.

"That's good, I'll be sure to tell him you say hello as he shoves his enormous cock into my tight slick folds." I whisper softly into his ear.

Caleb moans and shudders, I'm sure he just came.

The thought nearly kills me and before I realise what I'm doing my lips are on his. His hands rise to touch me but he's reluctant. The kiss is the signal for the game to end; it means that I concede that I want him. I move his hands to my sides and he rips the blindfold off and his chaps soon follow. His cock is full and perfect and I can't wait to feel him. Now it's my turn to be tortured.

Caleb picks me up carefully and carries me to the bed.

The silk sheets catch the studs and buckles on my outfit but it won't be on for long. He crawls on top of me and starts to undo me, with every strap it feel like he's ripping away more of my emotional armour. I'm naked but for the shoes, those will stay on till later.

"I missed you, Kinsey." he whispers ,kissing my full lips like I'm air and he's suffocating.

"I missed you too." It slips out before I can stop it, it's true, god damn him, it's so true.

His hard body is pressing against me, his cock demanding entrance. My claws are digging into his ass and he has my other arm pinned above my head.

"Tell me you want me, Kins." He almost growls, "Tell me it killed you too."

My eyes fill with tears, fucking no. I will not cry.

"I want you. I was broken without you." It comes out hoarse, I hate that it's true, I hate me, I hate what he does to me.

Dee thinks I'm so strong, that my envy was for her client but that's not it, the jealousy was for the beginning, where she might feel special, the hope that it wouldn't turn out like this but I know it almost never ends any other way. I don't want this for her, to just get a piece of someone, she deserves better.

He starts to work his nine inches of warm, throbbing pleasure inside me and I'm back in the room. I wrap my legs around him and dig the spikes of my heels into his back and ass. He groans and pushes in deeper. His eyes locked on mine. I feel so full. The feel of the silk on me, so smooth and mixed with his amazing skin almost undoes me. I'm slick and dripping so it just glides in and out. He fucks me, filling me, his tip bouncing against my cervix, mixing pain and ecstasy. I feel the start of fireworks in my core and he steadies his rhythm.

Our bodies sliding against each other is almost too much to bear after so long. His lips meet mine and he follows the line of my jaw down to my neck. I tilt it slightly to allow him access and as his teeth graze my skin, I moan his name. Caleb bites me in response, thrusting harder as his pleasure matches mine. His hand wraps in my hair like a rope and he pulls it tight to keep my head at the right angle. Waves of bliss fill me, consume me as his cum fills me up. He bucks and bites harder. I scream for him and he releases me from his teeth, kissing me, moaning my name, over and over like a prayer.

He rolls off and lays half draped over me, my leg entwined with his. I kick my shoes off and he pulls the silk sheeting over us. I have the passing thought that I'm glad I'm not the one cleaning them and then it's gone. I roll my head to meet his eyes and he smiles. The tears are back, pushing for release. That smile, that open and loving smile, is my own personal hell. The worst thing is that it's real. He loves me, he fucking loves me and I worship him. I never say the words, I avoid admitting that because can it really be love? I'm owned by this place, I choose him but is it real love? If I'm not really free, can I really choose? I don't know but it's as close as I've ever gotten. It made me come here like an addict, every night for years. It made me build a pretend world, a make-believe universe where we were together and I was happy to drown myself here. Near the end, happy to die here. Then one of the girls got purchased by her client, she said her man loved her and that he couldn't see her here anymore. The illusion shattered, my world collapsed and one day I just stopped, I couldn't pretend with him anymore. There was yelling and slamming of doors and then nothing. Now I wonder if all that self-torture was worth it. Who cares if it's not in the real world? That smile is real, how we feel is real... shouldn't that be enough?