Silver Fox Pt. 01

I wasn't that good. I'd caved and I was horribly excited about that fact.

It was a couple of hours before she messaged me and had me get her at the door and as soon as I saw her, it only got worse. Because my world came back into steady control. She looked beautiful and she was wearing the overcoat she'd worn with her latex dress, along with heels and the latex gloves like I'd told her to. The ground felt stable again and it scared me all over again, how delightful it was to feel that rush of power in the blood stream that made me see life so much more clearly.

Because she grinned when she saw me and walked right into my arms, coming back to me for me to hurt her more.

"Look at me." I forced her face up with a thumb under her jaw, so that she had to look at me and I could see her gorgeous eyes. "Grab my arms so I can feel the latex and don't look away, understood?"

Confusion lit her eyes for a moment, but she nodded and obeyed, watching me curiously so that I had to smile. I slid my hand under her jacket, turning all the more excited with the feel of a lacy halter top that left her stomach bare. "I like to give hugs." My voice was breathy and I held her close with one arm, caressing my other hand over her stomach before I clawed my fingers, digging my nails into her flesh. She gasped, then moaned, so that I smiled. "I like kisses even better." She shuddered at that, then gasped against my lips when I pressed to her, scratching my nails to cause even more pain. Her body was tight against mine, in a way that it wouldn't be with just any kiss. She was shuddering and she held tight to my arms in a way that was intoxicating, with how she both wanted to get away and refused to do so, staying in my arms. It was the type of thing that made my heart hurt with happiness.

When I released her, she gasped in a way that no other kiss compared to and I smiled down at her, while she seemed to have to focus to clear her mind, while I felt a lot of control and power and wanted more. "Oh, wow," she finally purred, and I grinned with how much lust was in her voice.

"Careful," I answered. "You keep telling me how much you like my play ideas and I'll keep doing things like give you hugs and kisses that way all the time."

"I'm okay with that." She stroked her latex clad hands up my arms with a little bit of wicked intent in her eyes, the kind that let me know she was catching on fast and using my fetishes to manipulate, the kind that made me thrill with the Dom's need to tame a brat. "Please hurt me more."

And that was the nail in the coffin, the words that stopped the fear filled voice of my conscience and replaced it with only desire.

"Come on, then, sweetheart. Let me... teach you more."

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Essie

Let me teach you more.

I really liked him as a teacher. Dangerously so. I waved to Isabelle where she already stood behind the bar, covering for Jackson, and then stopped his leading me to stare at the scene on the Saint Andrew's Cross. Jackson grinned when he saw what caught my attention and watched with me for a moment.

Christopher was the name of Jackson's boss and I had gotten to know some of the people the last time I'd been there. So I knew that the girl on her knees was his slave, Deirdre, and she was eating out Jackson's friend, Lily, where she was tethered on the cross. But it was her fiancé who made me really stare. Alex had seemed so mild mannered and timid the night before.

The way he held a cane in one hand and snapped it across Lily's tits so that she shrieked made me reconsider what I knew of him. Jackson laughed at the expression on my face while I watched Alex grin, twisted laughter in his eyes while he fingered the cane he held. "Sadists. We're everywhere. From my understanding, she had a very bad day and felt needy."

I turned to him and he winked so that I laughed and continued to follow him. "Wow, and he's so mean about it, too. I know you said that's who played with Lily, but I wasn't expecting that, somehow."

Jackson grinned and opened a dungeon door. "I think you'll find that BDSM play is whatever people make it to be. Think about Isabelle and Kody. I mean there are couples like Christopher and Deirdre, that practice an absolute lifestyle, but there are far more who are just like everyone else and have a need to satisfy every so often. There isn't always just a stamp on someone's forehead or a collar around their throat to say that their kinky."

I followed him into the dungeon and stared around at the circular tower dungeon setup. It looked like a BDSM version of a dungeon you'd see in Beauty and the Beast and it was another thing I wasn't expecting, too. "I like this one!"

He laughed. "I thought this one might hit a fun spot for you." I went still where he approached me from behind, pulling me to his chest, and my heart skipped when he tugged open my sash, unbuttoning my jacket. "It does inspire something strangely romantic in nature, doesn't it?" His voice was lowering and after my first experience with him, I was starting to pick up on things, like how that lowering of his voice, in the way another man might speak lower to give his beloved gentle encouragement and sweet nothings, was something of a threat from him, a warning. And sure enough, he traced his hand up my side... up my slutty halter top, lifting the fabric, until his fingers found my nipple. I tried to brace but couldn't really and the result was a gasp when he cinched the delicate peak.

I arched and twisted in his embrace, trying to shrink from the pain, and my pussy clenched with emptiness hard enough to make me moan in the midst of the gentle pain. "You smell so good when you're so turned on from the pain, sweetheart." I closed my eyes and my mind was turning still again, calming under his-

affection

-pain. I shuddered at how sweet his voice was, how he cooed in encouragement while hurting, even while he held me forced against him. "And I adore those sounds of yours." His lips were soft against my hair and he tugged me back against his cock, so that I arched and rubbed against him. I giggled breathlessly when he released me, in a sense of dark shock and pleasure that I didn't understand. But I liked it.

"Such a good girl you are. What's your safewords?"

"Red and yellow, Sir."

"Perfect. You want me to take over this one and take you a little deeper into what I like specifically, right? You can tell me you don't want that at any time, by the way, sweetheart, and I can teach you just submission." He turned my head a little so I could see his face and he was smiling easily, his scarred face a picture of security, framed with that sandy hair highlighted silver, and I turned all the more wet from the sight of him. "I could honestly have fun teaching you just submission for months. This is about you, understood?"

"I understand, but I want you to show me how you do things, Sir. I want to know how different things leave different marks, like you said before."

"Mmm. Different kinds of affection." His eyes were so inviting when he spoke of pain. Jesus, it did things to me. "We'll get there. Let's get you stripped first." I held still while he tugged off my jacket, then pulled off my lacy skirt and halter, talking while he worked. "Speaking of Alex and sadistic kinks, he also has another little proclivity that might amuse you." He was so assured in his motions. I didn't know if it came from being older or a top or a mix of both of those things, but he cupped my tits without questioning or soothing into the motion. He just did it, with a sense of casual use that made me moan with the sensation of being a toy for him to play with. And, dear God, it was a sensation that excited me. "You see, he has a major lactation fetish, but without the lactating mess. He hates the thought of actual milk or anything to do with it. No, he specifically just has a thing for this action." I pant with how aroused his motions made me, when I realized what he was doing. See, he'd cinched both of my nipples in a painful grip again and when I could think straight enough through the pain he gave me, I realized he was tugging my nipples in alternating motions, as if milking me.

"Oh, please!" I begged, but I wasn't sure what it was for, only knew that it felt painful, how horny the thought made me, and it wasn't exactly the same thing as how much I loved his physical pain. It was more on the mental side than that because there was a sensation of torment with how cruel his nails could be, but it was more the thought of being brought low, being reduced to an object.

I shouldn't like that, but I did. I think maybe it had to do with that fact from before, the one about my mind never shutting up. I think it had to do with being intellectually curious and being degraded into just a little plaything. There was something attractive, in a fetishized way, about it. Jackson's voice was soft where he rested his cheek against the back of my head. "Just relax and enjoy it. Humiliation is fun, which is why Alex likes things like this. He also likes latex, after getting to play around with it, mostly because he enjoys turning Lily into a little covered up fuckdoll." If I could think straight, I'd wonder how that worked in their day to day relationship. As it was, I had a thought and then it was gone, while my mind started to go still, as if being slowly smothered into calm and quiet.

"Yes, Sir," I whispered, and he laughed above me, letting me go.

"That's what we like to hear. Last time, I didn't show you the clamps when I thought that taking off the latex might make you uncomfortable."

I blinked, having to work to think through a fog of lust, while he guided me past a large wood and iron table setup and to a set of shackles that hung from the ceiling. "Yeah, it was weird getting it off and weirder to clean."

He laughed again, grasping my wrists in a gentle hand to tug them over my head, fixing them in the dungeon manacles. His hand stroked up the gloves, his eyes lightening in pleasure and enjoyment with the sensation, while I had the daydream of being something like a wayward lady in a fantasy land, a Jane Doe in a place where you really shouldn't be a Jane Doe. "It takes a little bit of commitment to play with it. The gloves, though... Those, I think we should keep."

He worked so easily, casually, walking around me to a bag he'd dropped on the floor, where he knelt to get a gleaming silver chain. I watched while he lifted another paddle and a strap, too, turning heated with thoughts of how intimate his touch felt when he gave pain, at how alive he seemed when his body vibrated with the force of striking an implement. He set the paddle and strap on the stone table when he walked past it, the silver clamps in his hands. I blinked when he held them up for me to see closer. "There's all kinds of different styles for these. My personal favorite are actually ones called clover clamps, but they're a bit harsh. These, on the other hand, start out quite kind, but... they screw tighter so we can find a gauge for you. Besides, they're quite pretty, don't you think?"

"Yes, Sir." I was starting to realize a kind of fear in these games with him. Namely, that he was instructing me in these things and that I didn't want to disrespect him or deny him. I enjoyed pleasing him when he was my sexual teacher. "P-pretty."

They actually were, too, with little jewels hanging from their clamp part, but the cute addition didn't take away from what they were, from the way they gleamed. I felt a strange blend of wild curiosity and fear, but it was more fear of the unknown. I had never gotten to try clamps, even though I'd read so much about them, not even to experiment with something like clothespins. "Easy." He said it so softly, understanding my fear, even while he gently massaged my nipples with his thumbs. Not hurting, for once, but stimulating. I whimpered quietly when he lifted the end of one clamp and he smiled, eyes on his task. "Deep breaths. It's okay."

I exhaled, blinking, when the pincers fell shut, and it took a moment for it to sink in when I had been braced for something far worse. Instead, it was almost a soft sensation and I moaned, tugging my wrists in the manacles above my head, then moaned louder with the reminder of my restriction. Jackson laughed, attaching the other end to the other nipple and it was all the sweeter for it. I looked down just to see the jewels hanging from my breasts. "A lot of the pain enjoyment comes from the anticipation, sweetheart, especially when you don't know how little or badly something might actually hurt." Jesus, I couldn't think because it was more than true. The best way I could describe the sensation was to call it a highly submissive relief that it wasn't as bad as I'd been braced for and that feeling somehow translated to gratitude and surrender to the man who had control of that pain.

It was fucking addictive. I kept my head bowed until Jackson gently lifted my face. "Look at me. Let's up the ante a little, since you seem to enjoy that pressure just a little too much."

"Yes, Sir." And it took real effort to keep my eyes on his. It felt more naturally submissive to look away, to bow, and I had to remind myself of the command over and over again, but it made it easier when I did. The other thing that made it easier was the intensity of his gaze, how it felt like romance to look in his eyes when he did these things. Because this was a different Jackson than the playful one who was a bartender.

This one had more fire in his eyes, a lot more, and he was excited in a strange way that was somehow slow and sweet. I moaned when he tightened the screws of the clamps, when he went ever so slowly, watching my eyes while he alternated between twisting each one. He smiled when the pleasurable pressure turned to light pain, when my face must have changed with the increase... and then he kept going. "Good girl. You can take it."

What else was there to say, when I was trapped so deeply in that mental place where things felt so calm and still? "Yes, Sir."

And, really, I could. The steady increase had this strange cumulative effect, a slow build where I breathed in and out, staring into his eyes. A little more. And then more. And then a little more. My whimpers sounded far away and I was meeting his eyes through a glaze, as if the world was fading, all except for him. I exhaled in a gasp when he finally stopped. "Good girl. How pretty you look when you're hurting. And the sounds you make are fucking gorgeous. Let's see what other sounds you can give me. We'll start with the paddle since it's one you know and work our way up from there with the strap, after we have a gauge."

"Yes, please, Sir."

"How brave for me. Kiss the paddle and tell me why you do that."

Another thing. There was more talking with his kind of sex sometimes, in certain moments. And he was good at this dark kind of dirty talk, in the way that made me feel hotter than hot, like I was burning. My pussy clenched again, on air, in that way that amazed me when it happened, when it was like this spasm of painful need. It brought to my attention how badly I ached and it was even worse to know how hard he was and to know he was so controlled that he wasn't going to do a thing about his arousal. It made me crave all the worse to know my own release would be for my undisciplined need, that he would be almost dispassionate about it, save for his pleasure in seeing me come undone. I had to take another breath, feeling a strange kind of fogginess, and gently, adoringly kissed his paddle. "To show respect for your toys, Sir, because they're part of your affection."

His pleasure made me feel exultant, and I mean in a way that was intimately gratifying. I think that had a lot to do with the atmosphere, but I moaned happily when he purred his answer. "Very good. That's it, exactly, and I'm a sadist who wants it to be enjoyed. Now, I could use a spreader bar and keep your legs wide open for me, but I'd prefer you to show me you like my affection by standing straight for me. It will be harder than it was last time, but I think you can try." He tapped my ass with the paddle. "Legs spread wide." He kissed my cheek when I opened, then whispered, "Wider," so that I moaned and spread painfully wide. "Good girl. Pleasure dampens some of the sensation, remember."

I cried out when he stroked the side of his hand between my legs and he always had this way about doing it that was hot as fuck. He'd straighten his palm and just stroke, then twist his wrist as he desired, every motion deliberate and slow while I burned all the hotter for it. "Yes, Sir, thank you!"

"You have such good manners, too." He pressed two fingers to my clit and then gave me the first paddle blow, so I squealed in need for any kind of more he'd give me, caught between the two sensations. My legs shook and I hopped before I remembered to keep myself spread for him. He still lectured me in that loving voice that was twisted and somehow romantic as hell, atmospherically fueled by the circular dungeon. "Stay spread like a good girl." Another paddle strike while I had to focus to obey. "It's hard, but you'll find most Doms prefer you to keep your pussy open and available for them." Another strike and he moved his hand away, wrapping his arm around my waist to hold me closer, kissing my neck while he gave me a harder paddle strike. And then a harder one. "It shows me you like it and shows me you're mine for the moment." Oh, Jesus, I liked that thought. Another strike. Another. Another. He was holding me so tight, in a hug like embrace and he paused to smooth his palm down my ass, scratching his nails over a hot spot he'd left. "That one was rough." And what did he do with that knowledge? He did it again, then scraped his nails over it. Again and scratch. My ass felt hot after each one and those scratches of his were light enough to be ticklish, but it burned in a pleasant way after each one. He shifted his hand to finger me slightly again instead, just enough to make me shout a moan of need. "You're so fucking wet for me, too." Wet enough to hear it... His words turned to a soft, calming coo. "You can fight your cuffs all you like, sweetheart, but they're not giving and you're not going anywhere."

"Oh, my God!" It was another shout when his words made me burn. I hadn't even realized I was yanking on the bracers, when I was so caught up in trying to keep my legs spread and even that was more difficult that I dreamed it would be. I wasn't being very still at all, was dancing in his arms, but I seemed to force my legs back apart quickly enough for his liking.

"Good girl. I'll give you a choice. We can spend more time with the paddle or we can move onto your strapping sooner. If you want the second one, I'll paddle you a little longer and then we'll spend a long time with more pain than the paddle."

Oh, but it was mean of him to give me a choice like that. Especially when I understood the soft warning in his voice, that the second option was going to hurt a lot more in an intense way.

It's more affection, I corrected in my head. "More of the strap, please, Sir."

"That's a choice I like. We'll call this the halfway mark with the paddle, then, and let's make the last half of it count."

"Y-yes, Sir." I closed my eyes and nuzzled closer to where he held me, squeaking when he paddled me again. He fell quiet with me, too, holding me cuddled against him like that even while he held true on his word and paddled me harder, so that I jarred in his arms and had to gasp against his neck. He kissed my hair, then struck the paddle, stroked up my torso to reach the clamp chain, then tugged it and paddled, smoothed his palm to trail a fingertip across my crushed nipples, then paddled again.

The end result was that by the time he was done, my ass felt bruised with the force he'd been using. It definitely felt hot and tormented... and I felt loss when he pulled away to trade out his toy, so much so that I looked down and waited in eager obedience for him to come back to me, trembling.