The Slavemaker

I snapped and scampered like a rat to the bathroom, where I masturbated in a fucking frenzy because I couldn't even think straight enough to remember what I was supposed to be doing here. What was worse, I thrust my fingers in and out of myself until they were coated, then sucked them with soft little whines, imagining they were him and I was the one worshiping with such abject servility at his knees.

I had always played with this self creed. I didn't give myself fully to another. I played only with people who were looking to satisfy a need, like me. And I didn't lose control or get too close to anyone ever.

After I came down from my masturbation frenzy, I was snarling because anger was the only thing that could save me. I needed to think angry thoughts. I needed to think about how I wanted to stab him in his stupid, sexy, stern fucking face for making me remember those old fantasies that just wouldn't die and leave me alone. I had to take a breath and force myself to go back out into his perfect, magical Sulfur's and face him and his perfect, beautiful slaves.

But going back out to him didn't help. He turned his gaze on me again and I couldn't even remember the anger. I had been hell bent on clinging to it to protect me during the conversation with him, but it fled so fucking fast at his first attention. His eyes pierced even when he gave me a gentle gaze to try to soothe me and all I could remember were all those fantasies of being a slave princess, of the Dread Pirate Roberts reprimanding me harshly, only to hold me just as gently.

"Hello, Deirdre," he said softly. "Welcome to my branch of Sulfur's."

————

Christopher

Deirdre King. She was the submissive goddess in the world of Sulfur's and its surrounding fetish club. The first time I ever saw her, she had slapped a Dom twice her size because he'd dared to hurt Lily's feeling the wrong way. I had never forgotten it. I had asked Ash question after question about her and what she must be like, even then.

"Hello," she replied. I had to smile at her voice because it was everything you'd expect from a submissive of her caliber. It was polite and sweet, but with that tone that suggested she could definitely be firm when she needed to. She was a Dom's wet dream because she didn't want a relationship. All she wanted was to submit for a night at a time, as a form of therapy. "And you must be Christopher. Where do you know Ash from?"

I laughed. "We met in college actually, back when I was still adjusting from growing up a military brat. I had all these light anger issues at the time and Ash was always the calm and collected one. Eventually, after enough rants where he patiently nodded along, I just decided the anger wasn't worth it and here we are down this path instead."

She laughed along, but there was something hard glittering in her eyes, something that made me curious from the start. There was something about Deirdre. I had seen her play in Sulfur's Alpha, of course I had, but she was usually with lighter Dominants. She had this cat gear that Ash would get her to wear when he really wanted to make a Dom's night. He used her to train them on how to top when they expressed interest, too, because there was no risk of her getting overly involved or attached. Deirdre was the submissive playgirl. Of course, I hadn't ever played with her because I had been more along the line of being a Master than a Dominant and I didn't think she would like playing with me.

Now that I was standing closer to her, talking to her? There was something about her, something I didn't understand. A bad habit of being a Dom? We like understanding things. I started to watch her more closely.

"Well, that sounds like a formula that adds up entirely correctly. Military brat tempered out ending up a lifestyle Master? No, yeah, I can see it."

I had to grin. "Guilty. And Ash told me you're the more controlled of the submissives in his ring. I suppose now I know why."

I nodded to where Lily had gotten to with my bartender because I didn't think Deirdre had noticed her and I had to laugh at the look on her face because it confirmed that she definitely hadn't noticed.

The other submissive was tucked on my bartender's lap in a chair at the bar. They weren't bothering to hide their foray together, either. Jackson had his tongue halfway down her throat and he was all over her. Deirdre ran a hand through her hair. "Jesus Christ, Lily, you maso slut."

My grin widened. "I think that, by societal standards, I'm supposed to be disapproving of a person coming to inspect the goings on here and ending up like that, but I've never been good with that kind of thing. I tend to think submissives should always be encouraged to be as free as they please in a safe atmosphere. It's sometimes rare for them to find those."

Deirdre looked to me and swallowed, her eyes flicking to my side, something that made me aroused to see. That was where I had placed my two slaves to display them after our fun together. It was a reward for them having done so well and behaved so well and they both loved being displayed. At the moment, Todd was stroking Gracie all over, caressing her while he kissed her. When he stroked a palm between her legs, Gracie spread wide for anyone to see her for viewing pleasure. Deirdre looked back to me. "I can see that." And her voice was a little squeaky, so that I had to laugh.

"Come on," I said gently. "Have a drink with me? It looks like you're going to be here for a little while with your friend."

A spark of something lit her eyes, as if she wanted to turn me down, but when she opened her mouth, she answered, "Okay. That sounds good."

What was it about Deirdre? I watched her where she walked beside me and we went to the other side of the bar to leave Jackson alone with Lily. "Choose what you want to drink and I'll get the glasses."

She hesitated and got down a bottle of Jack with some of the Coke from the cooler. And it was the moment that let me know what it was about her. It was the moment that showed me what I had never noticed, even though I had seen the submissive goddess play all the time. I had seen her bow, had seen her having laughing fun and hot orgasms. And Deirdre was this sexy sub kitten too, the kind that belonged in movies. She had this natural blonde hair with these curls and these crystal blue eyes. And her body? Oh, man, it would turn anyone on. She was curvy and fit and Ash claimed the only reason why she was so obsessive with fitness was due to how vain she could be, but the result was gorgeous, stunning.

But I wasn't interested in people who wouldn't like my kind of play and I had never thought Deirdre would like it. And then she made me realize.

You see, she poured my drink and that was all it took. I watched her place the ice cubes, my heart thundering, then watched her pour the whiskey. Her head was bowed and her arm was graceful with the action of serving. She moved slightly slower, as if she wanted to savor every part of the feeling, too.

As if she was unconsciously making effort to be more visually pleasing while she served me.

It seemed a surreal moment when she lifted her eyes to mine, when her head was still slightly bowed to show me perfect respect. She froze with whatever she saw in my gaze because I knew and I thought she knew I knew.

Deirdre wasn't a submissive, not at heart. Deirdre was a slave. And suddenly, it felt like a door being opened. I wanted her something fierce. Hell, I had orgasmed as soon as I'd seen her watching me train my slaves in the doorway, but with the knowledge of the possibility? It made it so much worse. I wondered if she'd been a slave to someone already and then thought that couldn't be it. No Master in their right mind would have Deirdre in their collar and let her go. They'd do anything in their power to keep her, unless they were fucking blind, batshit insane, or dumb as a brick.

"Thank you, little Aurora." I said it teasingly, but Deirdre's eyes turned dark with some form of strangely tortured delight at the word. "Pour your own, won't you? And I'll show you more of the place."

————

Deirdre

My heart was going crazy and my mind wasn't helping. All the blood seemed to be gone from it and all I could think of was every fantasy I'd ever had of my prince. Oh, this was bad. It was so bad. I had stayed safe from any feelings in any relationship for so long and I absolutely stayed away from any and every lifestyle Master than wasn't Asher Lavrov.

So why was I obediently grabbing my Jack and Coke at Christopher's nod? Why was I taking his hand and glancing at his slaves in their cage with so much jealousy that it stung? Why was I opening my mouth to ask him questions, when I should have been running in the opposite direction? "May I ask how many slaves you take and how you choose them?"

His smile was so soothing and inviting, like his Sulfur's setup. "Of course you can. I'm sure the submissive kitten can ask anything she likes. I've had... a lot, to be honest." Of course he had. God, it was so much worse that way. He was so obviously a playboy and so downright stern in his features that any submissive feeling brave enough would beg to try his slavery. "But they choose me first. They all come to me with something in mind that they want to better about themselves or something that they want to open themselves up to with the experience. Gracie's a pretty good idea for it, actually. She's a model and she saw the way one of my slaves from before walked." He grinned at me. So inviting. So enticing. I needed to get out of here. Instead, I was listening to every word. "She wanted me to train her to do it and, since you're a lifestyle submissive, I think you can guess a little of how I answered."

I swallowed, feeling tortured. "That you had to train her to a mindset of serving others and the rest followed."

"Very good." He smiled down at me with the warmth and approval of a Master and it made me feel giddy and happy to please him.

God, Deirdre, get it together. Finish asking the questions Ash would want you to, then go home and bang your head against something until you wake the fuck up. Yes! Yes, that's exactly what I needed to do. Wait, what would Ash want me to ask again? I couldn't think. I was trapped in a whirlwind of desire from being near the personification of every fantasy I'd ever had, along with terror from how much pain those fantasies had caused me in the past. I couldn't be with Masters. I had to play because my needs were a torment, but I couldn't be with Masters. "Hey, there."

I swallowed, looking up at Christopher. "Y-yeah?" It felt like the wrong way to address him. I didn't want to think about what the right way would be because it involved honorifics that I couldn't let myself say.

"You okay, Aurora?"

I never wanted him to stop calling me that. Sleeping Beauty waiting for my prince to kiss me awake while he fixed me with a beautiful collar around my throat. "Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry about this. First Lily and now me."

"It's alright. Here. I just wanted to show you this room. I didn't think you got to explore anymore after catching me in the act." He said it with such easy charm that it made me smile, even in my distracted state. There wasn't a single hint of a blush on his face that I had watched him cum in his slave's mouth, had watched that slave share it with a second one as if it was the greatest treat they could have dreamed of. I froze when I walked into the door he held open for me.

"This is the most beautiful dungeon I've ever seen."

He laughed behind me, while I drank it in. It looked like a dream. It was circular, for a start, and the wall was stone and rough. The floor was hard but it had a big, fluffy rug covering it. It looked like a tower dungeon, except it was twisted so there were things like suspension hooks, ropes, harnesses and a sex swing. Christopher sat easily on a stool by a deliberately uncomfortable stone table. "I'm glad you like it." Heat flooded me. He looked like a prince who belonged there, looked like someone who was only missing a princess laid on the table to serve him and his pleasure. "Deirdre, while I have you here, can I ask you something personal?"

No. Tell him no. Tell him to fuck off. Or don't say anything if you can't control it. Just leave instead. Run and leave. Be a coward. Do anything at all, except say- "Of course. You can ask me anything." Inside, I was whimpering.

"You used to play with Ash. The only other regular you played with was Matt, but Ash said he became busy with his own drama at the moment. I know that you and Lily both use playing as a form of personal therapy and I know that you both have your needs. Would you like someone to play with regularly, Deirdre? Lily can come along anytime she likes and I think Jackson would be better suited for her, but if she comforts you or doesn't get along well with him, I know masochists, too. It's okay."

"I-" I swallowed, cutting off, fighting with myself. The truth was his offer was kind beyond belief. He was a safe Master, one like Ash, and someone who could definitely satisfy every submissive need I had. I was pretty sure I could ask Ash anything I liked about his friend and would get nothing but positive truths. I was pretty sure Ash would confirm the fact that he had a great deal of experience with slaves and submissives, was also sure he'd confirm that Christopher had had a lot of slaves come to him. I went to Sulfur's and played because my desires felt like a curse. After a few weeks, I would start to fray and a nice domination session would pull me back, make me think clearly. Playing was like a reset on stress for me. It gave me a mental vacation where I could lose myself to someone else's will and earn the satisfaction of being praised for it. This was someone who could satisfy those needs when I had them. "H-how do you mean?"

That wasn't the answer I should be giving, goddamnit. Some strong lifestyle submissive I was. I felt like I was going to lose my mind. Christopher stood back up. "Sorry. I should have clarified that. Just as playtime scenes as you needed."

"What if I didn't want to take my clothes off or anything?"

He smiled and he was standing so close and my body suddenly felt too hot. "You'd never have to."

It was everything I could ever want in one offer, coming from the prince of my dreams, who had stern, unforgiving features even while his smile soothed. "I- Um-" He took my drink from me and sat it down.

"You're overthinking, Aurora." Oh, God, I loved that name. I felt desperate and needy. "You're so scared," he said thoughtfully, as if trying to figure me out and piecing parts together. "But not of me." He was closer and I whimpered because I knew what he was going to do, how he was going to make me think more clearly. It had been weeks since I'd played with anyone and I couldn't remember why Masters were bad, could only remember that I had a need to please someone else for a time and I hadn't satisfied it.

He lifted my chin, his shoulder length dark hair tickling my face when he leaned forward over me.

Um, no, no. What are you doing? Look, 'all adored sub princess', are you going to listen to any kind of reason at all?

I imagined that stern face and those chocolate eyes looking down at me like he'd looked at his slaves. I imagined he was looking through cage bars, the kind of safe, happy cage I had always fantasized about and my logic shut up. His lips pressed to mine.

It was like a switch being flipped. Every fantasy I had suppressed in favor of light playing came alive like a nova. I arched in his arms, whimpering against his kiss in a begging noise and he wrapped his other hand around the small of my back, just like the perfect prince. His hand on my cheek caressed back to thread in my hair, cradling me so that I arched up against him, lifting every part of me to better display myself for pleasure. I remembered these mindsets like they were yesterday and they came back alive so easily.

He pulled away and I opened my eyes, craving more of his kiss, and if I was thinking straight, I would have lifted to it in submissive form, begging for more against him. But I wasn't thinking straight and I waited instead, staring up at him to invite him to take what he willed at his leisure.

His eyes lit up with approval. "God, look at you. Of course you were so perfect for the Doms you bowed to."

I couldn't ask what he meant and it didn't matter anyway. It let me know that he had guessed a few things about me, for sure, but then his lips were back on mine and I whined, silently begging him for mercy. I turned into pure reaction. When his hand pressed my back, I lifted in a sinuous dance of pleasure. When his tongue brushed gently against my lips, I opened up, unable to think of denying him anything. I felt like I could burn when he took advantage and his kiss turned messy and hotter than hot, hotter than blue fire. There were these sounds like soft animal cries and it took me a minute to even realize I was the one making them. He caressed the back of my head, cupping his hand so gently and I felt caged in every good version of the word.

Caged. I remembered my fantasy of wanting a happy, fluffy cage, remembered how it had hurt me so goddamn badly that I couldn't even date anymore.

I swear I don't remember doing what I did. I only remember being suddenly terrified beyond thinking and then I remember my palm stinging and I was looking at Christopher, who was giving me the most curious gaze of shock with a red spot on his cheek. Because I'd slapped him. One of Ash's friends. A lifestyle Master. A really kind person. And I, the most happy and easy going lifestyle submissive, had slapped him. He opened his mouth, but I didn't wait to hear what he said.

I just finally listened to the voice in my head and left his bar. He didn't follow.

————

Christopher

Huh. That wasn't what I intended.

I sat at the rack table in my Tower Dungeon and questioned a few things about myself. I couldn't say I'd ever been slapped before. I would smile over it, except... Except the look on Deirdre's face when and after she did it was pure terror and horror.

I revised my thoughts from earlier. At first, I had thought that no Master in their right mind could have owned Deirdre King and let her go, but now I had a different working theory. I thought that maybe she had, actually, been someone's slave.

And now I thought that someone had severely hurt her. I had seen slaves before, ones who had been taken advantage of, or had taken advantage of, in the wrong ways for them. In some cases, the slave just wasn't compatible or built for what their Master wanted and it had done some damage to both sides. There were other relationships where the Master's or slave's feelings had been toxic. Master and slave relationships required a lot of trust and either side of it could abuse that trust, sometimes without intending to, and it left damage. Very rarely had I ever found the damage intentional, actually.

But Deirdre's fear seemed like the kind of thing from some kind of damage, even if I didn't know exactly what. It made me want to help her all the more. God, she had been playing as a submissive for years. Had she been staying away from relationships and deeper styles of play because of those wounds all that time? Sure, that kind of thing would fulfill whatever submissive needs she had, but it had to suck, too. It sounded downright awful, actually.

I called the one person who knew Deirdre better than anyone, the one person who always knew what to do. Ash Lavrov.

I started the conversation by covering for her because I didn't want him upset with such a good friend. "She was a perfect little avatar of your inspection until I sidetracked her," I said teasingly.