Killing Time (2 page)

She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all when she thought about the dungeon and how she’d gotten herself sent there in the first place. She’d just arrived home from a photo shoot on location and she was bone tired. Her master greeted her at the front door after his manservant, Albert, answered the door. His staff was completely aware of what went on between them but they acted as if it was perfectly normal and in a way, it was—they were two consenting adults after all.

He wanted her to undress as soon as Albert shut the door and kneel before him naked. She’d wanted to comply but something inside her rebelled and she quickly figured it out. She didn’t want to submit on her own that night; she’d wanted him to beat her into submission and that is exactly what happened. He’d grabbed her by the arm and frog-marched her through the grand foyer with all of its pale marble floorings and straight to the dungeon.

The place where he beat her was completely soundproof and looked very much like an ancient dungeon except it was manmade and the place wasn’t the least bit dark or damp. The lights were painfully bright and the whole place had mirrors instead of walls. There was an inbuilt closet, which opened with the touch of one of the mirrors and inside was a sadist’s wet dream.

There were different lubes of all flavors, colors and varieties. Some to enhance pleasure while others brought pain; condoms though they no longer used them very often unless he decided to take her in her anus and she had not undergone a proper fast or colon cleansing. Those could get messy and everything was there to prevent the space from ever becoming unhygienic.

There were dildos and butt plugs, all made of high-end metals and glass, which were easy to clean and easier to use. The dungeon had its own mini-kitchen with a fridge and dishwasher for cleaning the toys they used without degrading the material. Where her master had bought the cleansing solution that was one hundred percent safe and would not cause any skin infections or irritate her most intimate parts was beyond her.

He grabbed all the necessary equipment he would need: fur-lined ankle cuffs, super cuffs for her wrists, the blindfold and a glass ball gag, that although seemed dangerous, was the best money could buy. He didn’t expect her to run and knew she wouldn’t.

“Undress,” he commanded in a voice a mixture dark chocolate and velvety sweetness.

She slipped her tight ivory cashmere sweater off and undid her expensive jeans before rolling them down her legs to her ankles. She slipped off the five-inch high-heel Christian Louboutin booties she’d been wearing and then slid her jeans off the rest of the way.

“That’s enough. I’ll take over from there.”

Something about his voice wasn’t right but she couldn’t place what was different really. She would never understand him, not really because he truly did have the personality of a borderline sociopath.

Sometimes, he was the sweetest lover in the world and although he was a firm master, he never failed to please her. Other times, a completely sadistic part of his personality would take over and he seemed to do things to hurt her just because he could.

“Turn around,” he commanded.

She acquiesced and did as she was told. The fumbling of his own clothes being removed told her she would be punished indeed and although she was quite tired, the juices between her sex began to flow and she felt herself turned on to the point where her body no longer was an object under her control.

He walked up behind her and pressed his engorged manhood against the small of her back. She was quite tall, almost five-foot-nine to his six-foot-three so the intimidation factor was there now that she’d removed her shoes, which had put them almost on equal footing.

He cuffed her arms behind her back and next did her ankles. Then he slipped the blindfold over her eyes and the ball gag in her mouth.

The taste of it felt cold against her tongue and she realized only too late he had applied some sort of anesthetic that made her throat go numb. He walked her over to a padded leather mat, similar to those used at gyms but a lot more comfortable, and she knelt at his command. He pushed her against the punishment bench since she could not brace herself due to her arms being cuffed behind her back.

“I don’t want you to say anything—well, actually you can’t so let me clarify myself. I don’t want a word out of you. No grunts, cries or tears of pain. I want to you to take your punishment without a word. For every time you do not comply, I will add another ten lashes, do you understand?”

She nodded her head and steeled herself to be quiet. They had only been together for two years but sometimes it felt like a lifetime. In that time he had trained her well and she decided she was quite the pain whore. She loved the feel of the whip on her ass and she loved the scarlet impressions it made.

They had a safe word, one she never used because it was pointless. He allowed her the freedom she needed to have a personality not dependent on him and to pursue a career she loved but at home, she was his. Even when they weren’t around one another, she never forgot she belonged completely and whole-heartedly to him. When he decided to call her sometimes while she was gone and he asked her to talk dirty to him, she knew she wasn’t allowed to touch herself unless he told her she could.

The thwack of the paddle jolted her from happier memories and she realized with dread he was using a studded paddle. It was meant to hurt, meant to harm, meant to cause pain and meant to draw blood.

The tears began to rain down her face and her throat felt numb as she tried to swallow the excess phlegm but nothing relieved her. She allowed her mind to wander to a time before she did not have this discipline in her life and realized how completely helpless and hopeless she’d been.

Thwack!

Her life, once which had been so controlled and carefully planned out turned into a host of auditions and rejections, partying too hard and not getting enough rest or taking care of herself.

Thwack!

Coffee and cigarettes were her food groups of choice and when ever she binged, her favorites were heroin and cocaine instead of food.

Thwack!

Food and alcohol were the enemies. Too many calories and she could never gain weight, not if she ever wanted to make it in her chosen profession where the commodity she sold was her body.

Thwack!

Then she’d met him and he’d introduced her to his powerful friends, some who had connections in her chosen field of business. In the early days, he wasn’t as careful with her as he was now and she’d been to an orgy where her only position was to service the men and women in attendance.

Thwack!

He’d seen something intelligent in her eyes and knew she wasn’t what she appeared to be to the world. All she needed was discipline and the right master.

Thwack!

The blood began to ooze from the marks and slowly made its way down her ass cheeks and legs. She knew they would hurt like a bitch but eventually they would heal.

Thwack!

Perhaps she should have just done what he’d wanted her to do. The pain was fun but not being allowed to sit down comfortably after a week was not.

Thwack!

“Oh, God, please let this be over soon,”
she thought though she didn’t believe in God or the Devil; Heaven or Hell. Her life was her own and she would live it however she damn well pleased.

Thwack!

She bit down on the slippery glass ball prevent herself from crying out as it had to end sooner rather than later. Afterwards, she congratulated herself for the steel resolve she’d shown successfully completing the task. He set the paddle down though he’d barely broken into a sweat; his breath was steady and soft as she heard the rustle of a condom wrapper opening.

He leaned behind her and opened the soft orbs of her ass before he rimmed the puckered hole with deliberate and angry strokes from his tongue. He tried to probe her insides with his tongue before he withdrew his mouth, and his fingers, covered in lube, eased in and out of her asshole.

It was the tingly and burning kind of lube which would make it impossible for her to enjoy anal sex with him but that was the precise reason he’d used it in the first place.

He placed the head of his cock at her opening and pushed through. She was well practiced in anal intercourse and relaxed her muscles to allow him full access.

“That’s right, you little slut, I know you love it in your shit hole, don’t you?”

She nodded silently with fervor as her whole body shook with an intense pleasure.

“Don’t you dare fucking come on me, bitch.”

She allowed him to control the sex as he slipped his cock in and out, slowly at first before he began to fuck her long, hard and mechanically. He wanted her to derive as little pleasure as possible out of their tryst and she understood this better than anyone.

He continued to thrust into her over and over again until he pressed, balls deep in her asshole and came with a loud spasm of pleasure.

He withdrew from her sore hole, stood and tossed the condom in a nearby wastebasket before he walked over to her again and applied antibiotic ointment on the cuts and bruises liberally decorating her ass cheeks.

His touch wasn’t gentle but rough and that, along with the stinging from the lubricant he used, caused her great discomfort but she wouldn’t dare show it. If she hinted at how uncomfortable she was, he would give her another ten spanks with that paddle just because he could and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

He finished the task and breathed deeply behind her. As satisfying as he found the whole act of humiliating her, she knew he couldn’t possibly be done. Not yet. He was a master of pain; a complete sadist when in the right mood and it was definitely the state of mind he held that night. Sometimes he wore it like a badge of honor and perhaps in a way, he did consider it to be one.

She knew his childhood had been terribly ordinary. He had never been abused, his parents’ had nothing but money and they doted on their sons. His parents’ were still happily married after thirty-four years of togetherness, and he had a devoted cousin who came by and they spent much time together. In fact, she was also in the scene and although she bottomed out regularly she could be a real domineering and sadistic bitch herself. A bi-sexual, she preferred to bottom out for men and dominate women. He would never let her do that at the club but they’d had a few play sessions and she’d been at the receiving end of his cousin’s dominant personality. Eating another’s woman pussy and rimming her was not exactly her idea of a good time but what could she do if her master commanded her to do it?

“Lay the fuck down and spread your legs,” he commanded.

She did as she was told and spread her legs outward like a highly trained dancer. She couldn’t physically part her legs as her ankles were cuffed but she could definitely open them wide enough.

She noticed he held a fairly large metal butt plug and he inserted it into her ass without much effort. She wasn’t loose back there in any way but she also knew how to relax her muscles to ease the pain of large objects being inserted in there. The more frightened she became, the harder it was for her physically so she stopped seeing those large objects as something to fear and instead something to be embraced because if she could conquer her fear then pain would be easy.

Physical pain was so much easier to take than psychological pain and for years, she’d found herself in a place she couldn’t really name. She’d never experienced psychological trauma as a child or teenager so she could only deduce it’d manifested itself from the one episode of rape by a photographer. The incident happened earlier in her career and she’d told her master about it because she felt he needed to know that although she’d been broken at one time, she wasn’t damaged goods or a pain junkie due to a dysfunctional childhood.

That photographer had met a certain death a week after she revealed what he’d done to her to her master. The papers mentioned something about a drug overdose. She knew the photographer was bisexual and as her master could and would top both male and females, deduced he’d helped him along with his “overdose” though he would never disclose that to her and she’d never asked either.

His fingers parted the lips of her pussy before an elegant index finger circled over her clit in smooth movement. She tried to gasp but all the ball gag would allow her was a small stifled moan.

He slid two fingers into her soaking channel and began to finger fuck her gently while his thumb continued to trace her clit. She lifted her hips toward his fingers and he slammed her torso down to the mat.

“Bad girl. Remember, I control this. I can make you come or I can take you to the brink and deny your orgasm. What do you think? Should I make you wait, my little oversexed slut.”

She nodded her head because that is what he wanted her to do and she instinctively knew it.

“Good girl. Now, I am going to fuck you and if you come, you’ll be very sorry. Do you understand?”

She nodded again with much vigor.

He slipped himself between her long slender parted legs and slammed his cock into her with force. She moaned at the touch and feel of that long, thick muscle of pure pleasure. The remembrance she couldn’t even attempt to come made it much too easy to drift away into a fantasy world where no one could touch her, not even him, and the feel of his flesh inside hers was just a dream.

She awoke and realized she’d been dreaming again of that last night where he had used her before placing her in the cage.

The fifth day of her punishment regime.

She spent her days, evenings and nights in the cage except for scheduled breaks when his stern housekeeper, Helga, would come to fetch her. She would be allowed to use the toilet, shower and then placed her back in the cage with her chastity belt and a small meal for sustenance. No one ever spoke to her and she was not allowed to speak as the ball gag was only taken out when she washed and then quickly put back into its rightful place.