Wyte's Club Pt. 03: Troy

And all the while Troy was there with her. Foxx loved to use him as an incentive, too. "That's my favorite fucking sadist, you little fucktoy. I'm not giving him a slave that can't answer with a correct 'Yes, master'. Stop. Fucking. It. Up." The last said while he striped his cane across her and she jerked on her leash trying to get away from him, sobbing.

And then there was the worst threat. "You want to be his special slave? His little torture toy? Then do what I say and be worth his fucking time. Otherwise, you'll be another little toy for me, instead of a special gift for one of my favorites." And he switched his training toys everyday. One day he'd torment her on the end of a leash with a shock stick. Another he'd hold a quirt and land the small tail whip across her ass while making her crawl before him.

And always at the end he shoved her in front of Troy, face to the ground. "Thank him for taking you as his slave. Say it right!"

"Thank you, master, for accepting a slave!" She said it eagerly and with fervor, needy after Foxx's torments.

But Troy gave her no recourse. The first time she felt one of his Harley boots on her head and then he bent down to slide his fingers inside her pussy. He pumped her for a few moments before switching to her ass. Kylie whimpered and spread her legs wider.

"Make sure your knees are spread like that for me next time," he said softly.

But the next time, when she spread like he demanded and thanked him, he didn't touch her. Instead, he stroked her clit with a riding crop, trailing it through her dripping sex. "You're welcome. Make sure I don't regret taking a slave."

"Yes, master!"

Every time, he left her with Foxx. And every time, she felt empty without his presence. Foxx was good, but he wasn't Troy. But Foxx made sure she wasn't bored, though. He usually stroked her hair absently after Troy left. And when she felt discouraged, he soothed her. "He will tell you when you earn his brand," Foxx would say.

"Yes, sir." By then the answers came easily and she bowed before him.

"You're learning so well, sweet girl."

"Thank you, Master."

"You're welcome. Let's settle you into your bed." She shivered, but crawled by his side to the large padded bed. He strapped her down and set up the machine he used, lining up the cock toy to her ass.

"Master? Can I ask you something?"

Foxx nodded. "Go on."

"Do you fuck where you sleep?"

Foxx grinned. "Been wondering that for a while now?"

Kylie nodded, smiling at him.

"Bold thing." He touched her nose. "Yes. But I have a playroom too. My bedroom is just a softer version. Mainly because I like my bed soft, to be honest. It's an indulgence. Maybe you'll find out one day."

With that, he left her on her table with a camera monitoring her safety and went to sleep. Kylie closed her eyes. She'd gotten better at being able to rest even with being fucked like she was.

The next day he introduced her to the shock caller and he held the control to it as an ever present threat with a cane in his other hand for emphasis. Troy watched while Foxx put her through her paces. And Foxx wasn't nice. He held a vibrator to her with one hand and striped her with a short tailed whip with the other, until the pain and pleasure blurred and it was hard to tell the difference in sensation. He made her crawl again when she was worked up, striping her with the cane when she didn't get on her knees fast enough after he untethered her.

This time she didn't cringe from the correction. She still whimpered. It hurt after all. But she bowed quicker and said a soft, "Thank you, Master," for his teaching her.

The next touch she felt wasn't Foxx's. It was Troy's hand on her neck, holding her low, and she'd recognize that touch anywhere. "Master."

She heard the door shut and when Troy lifted her chin, they were alone. He pressed his forehead to hers. "Kylie, I need to know. Are you sure about this?"

She pulled back a little to meet his eyes, grinning. "Yes, Troy. If you'll still have me. But we have to do something about your color scheme."

He laughed. "Of course I'll still have you. And..." he hesitated, like he had on the stage, as if this meant something to him. "I care about you. Love you, actually. I want you to know that. Because I'm going to fuck you like I don't. A lot. And I don't say those kinds of things very often."

Kylie kissed him and, for once, it wasn't suffused with sexual moans and pants. It was silent. And deep. Troy laced his fingers in her hair, cradling her. He pulled back and smiled at her. "Morgan is going to brand and pierce you tomorrow then. You will sleep by my side tonight."

She grinned. "Thank you, Master!"

Troy lifted her in his arms. When he reached the bathroom with her, he bent her over the sink and strapped her with a belt.

"Good pain slut."

Kylie grinned and arched back for more from him. Pain and pleasure ran together seamlessly. When he fingered her, she moaned. "Master, may I cum?"

"No."

Kylie rode his fingers anyway, holding back the orgasm with thrill racing in her blood. God, she loved that word. Nearly as much as she hated it.

***

Morgan Rede was smaller and slighter in stature than the Doms like Troy. He was more on par with Foxx. He smiled at her when Troy opened the door to his tattoo shop. Kylie shivered when Foxx stepped inside right behind her. She met his gaze shyly and he ruffled her hair. "Told you we'd turn you into a proper slave."

Kylie grinned with pleasure and looked at Troy, who winked. "Come on." He took her hand and led her to Morgan.

"Kylie?"

"Yes." He was easily charming like the rest of them, too. She smiled at him and he gave an answering grin, sliding the consent and waivers across a table to her. "Just sign. I know you've eaten, yeah?"

"Yes, sir."

He nodded. "You ever gotten a tattoo or anything like it before?"

She grinned. "Of course. Isn't it an obligation when you first turn 18?"

Morgan laughed. "For some it seems to be." She signed the waivers and he led her upstairs to a piercing room. He already had the table out and the antiseptics and petroleum. The clamps lay to one side along with rubber bands and needles. The most interesting thing, though, was the electrosurgical unit. Kylie stopped and stared at it. "You still okay?" Morgan smiled kindly.

Kylie swallowed. She looked to Troy, looking up at him wide eyed, and he smiled. "Answer him, Kylie."

She turned her gaze back to Morgan. "I'm great." Her voice sounded hoarse. "I'm better than okay. Can we do the brand first?"

He laughed. "Not in this case. I'll need you on your back for the horizontal hood piercing and I don't want to irritate a new brand. You'll need to undress for it."

"Oh yeah." She took off her skirt and her shirt, meeting Troy's gaze again.

His eyes were darkening with his lust and something more.

He watched her silently throughout the piercings. She held his eyes while she jumped and arched to the pain of the needle on her clitoral hood. Next Morgan did her nipples, going at a methodical pace.

The septum was the only one to make tears stream from her eyes. Troy stepped to her side to wipe those away gently. A soothingly rhythmic throbbing came from the newly made piercings, an after pain that was not at all bad in the wake of the sudden needle points.

But then he started with the electrosurgical unit, the precise instrument vaporizing skin with an electrical arch. Morgan worked silently, with the appearance of an artist painting detail on a canvas. He paused every now and again, lifting to start a new mark in the circular brand.

Kylie laid her head down on a chair head and lost herself to the continual pain. And all the while she felt Troy's hand on her head, petting her.

When Morgan was done, Troy fastened a silver collar around her neck. She kept her head bowed, breathing with an odd calm. For all she cared the only other person in the world was Troy Howell and his hand on her bowed head. And she felt that way for a long while.

***

Troy circled around Kylie. Foxx Wyte was excellent at training. She kept her head down. She'd answered everything correctly and with respect. Right now she was chained to the floor by a heavy iron collar. He'd fitted her with a harness that held a vibrator in her pussy and plug in her ass and left her there for a while.

"Master," she'd said with a grin of delight when he returned.

Troy loved that grin. He'd kill to see more of it. "Did you miss me, little slave?"

"Yes, master." She nuzzled to his palm when he caressed her cheek.

He stroked her hair. "Pretty little pain whore. I think I've done well enough in keeping your holes filled and satisfied, but a little pain slut like you... you need something else for that satisfaction too, don't you?"

She purred. Remember that I love you, he'd said, because it's going to feel like I don't. He tried to remind her occasionally, tried to make it clear that his attentive pain giver's touch was meant to be taken with love. And part of the reason why he loved her was that she understood exactly what he meant. Kylie nipped his fingers. "Oh, yes master. I need much more."

"I think you and I have not played with my whips, yet."

Kylie gave him a look filled with arousal and excitement. "No, master, we haven't," she whispered.

He unchained her collar, leaving it against the wall, removed the harness and the toys inside her, and guided her to the center of his playroom instead. He chained her upright, spread eagle, using a spreader bar for her ankles. Troy uncoiled his whips from his armoire, shaking them out and striking one on the floor. He met Kylie's gaze.

"You're so fucking hot when you hold those."

Troy chuckled. "I believe we first got to know each other with the whips. You liked to watch. Maybe you like to play, too." He stood back and drew the whip in his right hand back, striking it delicately across her ass.

Kylie gasped. "Master!"

"Hang on to your chains if you need to, love." He swung back his left hand, landing a harder lash, and she jolted. Troy felt the recoil up his arm with the impact and closed his eyes.

There it was. That place. Kylie's cry was perfectly timed, feeding his lust back to him. He opened his eyes again and twisted the right one across his chest, drawing it forward to strike her thigh. She contorted, arching her ass out for him.

It felt like dancing. It felt like falling in love. It felt like fitting the last piece of a puzzle into place. He twisted the whips in a synchronized grace, watching her every response.

He made the mistake of meeting her eyes in the full length mirror on the wall. She stared at him, transfixed, and Troy felt himself burn. She was like fire to his alcohol on the Florentine spin of the Kevlar floggers.

Troy snapped the whip, losing himself to her with pleasure.