Out of the Dungeon (2 page)

"I suppose I do, considering you finished
mine." Roman snapped his fingers. "Jeff, get me a drink."

"Yes, Sir," Jeff said.

"Come home with us tonight," Roman said.
"We'll have playtime."

"Only if we can leave this party soon," Dare
answered. The shoes hurt his feet and made his calf muscles clench,
and even though Roman's hands aroused him, Dare still felt
ridiculous.

"One more drink," Roman assured Dare.

Jeff returned with drinks for all. Roman sat
down on a parlor chair and bade Dare and Jeff to sit at his
feet.

"Should we stop at the dungeon, or play at
home?" Roman asked.

"Home," Jeff and Dare both said, in
unison.

It took a little while for Roman to make the
rounds, but it was a week night, and no one was expected to stay
late. Eventually, though not nearly soon enough for Dare, they were
allowed to turn in their costumes and get dressed.

In the cab on the way home, Roman said, "I
like the accessibility the angel costumes provide, but I'm not sure
I care for the heels."

Dare burst out laughing. "And you say that,
even though you didn't have to wear them."

"I love dressing up," Jeff said. "Have you
seen her slaves in their devil outfits? Ooh, hot." He licked his
finger and held it up in the air, making a sizzling noise.

"Dildo tails?" Dare asked.

"Of course. Bells jingle, tails wiggle."

Dare groaned at the thought. "I guess I
should be glad it was an angel party then."

"Speaking of dildo tails," Roman said. "I
found your jewel in the cabinet, Dare. Which means you aren't
wearing it."

Dare squirmed a little bit. Roman's
micromanagement was annoying. Roman wanted him to wear the anal
jewel all the time, a reminder of belonging even when they weren't
together or engaging in sex play. And it wasn't that Dare didn't
like it, or that wearing it wasn't a total turn on, because it was,
but when Dare wasn't with Roman, he didn't want to be turned on, he
wanted to relax.

The jewel was just a round, red, glittery
jewel, flat, in a stainless setting. It was attached to a thin
stem, and the stem was attached to a heavy stainless steel egg. The
egg went inside and the jewel stayed outside. In slave terms, it
was considered very dressy. Wearing it kept Dare in a low,
pervasive state of arousal, the state he was always in when he was
around Roman.

Dare didn't need or want the Roman part of
his life to invade all of his life. He was okay with keeping things
compartmentalized. When he was interviewing for the kind of
corporate job that required nice, country club manners, and a
well-fitted suit, he didn't want to find himself thinking,
Oh my
God, I'm wearing a jewel that's attached to an egg that's up my
ass.

It amused some people to bring elements of
their alternative sexual lifestyle into the vanilla world. But not
Dare. He fit the straight-laced presentation to a T, and didn't
mind that the way he looked allowed people to make a certain set of
conservative assumptions.

"I had job interviews," Dare said. "I didn't
need the distraction."

"Then you should have asked permission. I'm
not unreasonable or purposefully cruel. If you're going to be
noncompliant, then we're due for a discussion about what you want
from me." Roman looked from Dare to Jeff, then back to Dare. "Last
week, you both assured me that all of this is working fine. Here,
let me quote. Jeff said, 'I don't have anything that needs
discussing.' Dare, you said, 'It's all good.' And yet you've been
defying the protocol I gave you. If something's not working, then
our Sunday check-in is the time to fix it."

"Sorry," Dare said.

"Oh, there will be punishment," Roman said.
"And I expect you to follow protocol until we discuss the matter on
Sunday. I know you think I'm micromanaging and there's no real
purpose to you wearing it except that I'm being a controlling
bastard."

Dare looked out the side window so he didn't
have to look at Roman.

Roman's warm chuckle filled the back seat in
a way that said
I know you better than you know yourself.
His voice said, "You don't know anything, Dare, so give me some
leeway. Not that I don't want you thinking of me every moment of
every day, because of course I do, but the jewel provides an
element of anal training."

Dare nodded. He hadn't considered that. He
felt his face reddening as Roman talked. The practical things that
were done for comfort and health were embarrassing to talk about.
He liked when things just sort of happened, like they weren't
prepared for in advance. The parts of their sex life that were
calculated made him uncomfortable.

At the beginning it seemed like there was a
natural progression: Sit here. Now sit here in bondage. Now sit
here naked in bondage. Now sit naked in bondage on this butt plug,
don't worry, it's small.

Roman pushed Dare into things fast, without
allowing him to over-think them, and there was a feeling of
spontaneity and natural order.

Roman talking out loud about anal training
made Dare want to run. Maybe not all the way back to his old life,
but at least to a place where he could find middle ground.

Oh well, Dare thought, he could ignore his
growing feeling of malcontent until Sunday. "Yes, sir," he said. "I
understand," and braved a look at Roman.

Roman smiled. "Good."

J
eff must have had
too much vodka, because he was really drunk when they arrived home.
He begged out of sex play with the reminder that he had to work
early in the morning, and asked to be allowed to go straight to
bed. Roman let him go, with a warning. "Tomorrow we'll talk about
how it's not okay to drink yourself out of service."

Dare was naked and alone with Roman, which he
feared and craved at the same time. Feared because he knew he could
expect his punishment to push limits, and stretch his mind as well
as his body.

Craved because Dare could lose himself more
easily in whatever Roman wanted him to experience without Jeff's
resentment crawling around the edges of everything.

And losing himself was the whole point.

Roman went to the tool chest, and held up an
object of the sort Dare hadn't seen before. It was a curved plastic
wand, about a foot long, with molded round balls every inch or so.
The narrow end had a very small ball, but they increased in size
every inch along the thing, and the last one, just before the
looped handle, probably had a two-inch circumference.

Roman waved it at Dare, and Dare's stomach
clenched. His asshole clenched, too, because he knew exactly where
Roman intended to put that thing.

Roman laid it on the bed, up by the pillows.
Then he went to the cabinet again and took out the punishment
brush. He set that on the bed, as well.

All the little humiliations of the angel
party fell away, and it was just Dare and Roman, struggling to find
footing in this unusual relationship.

"You disobeyed me," Roman said. "Do you
accept this punishment?"

This was Dare's out. He could say,
No, I
don't give you the right to punish me.

Or he could say
Yes
.

Dare was frozen for a minute with indecision.
The three-way relationship between him and Jeff and Roman wasn't
working. Dare could take back his own power with just a word and
walk away. End the struggle. Leave Jeff and Roman to their perfect
world of Master and slave.

But Roman's punishment would calm Dare, take
away all uncertainty and anxiety, and Dare knew that, ultimately,
it would be sublime. Roman would send Dare into subspace, where
there was perfect balance between pleasure and pain, and there
would come the moment where the only thing Dare was aware of in the
world was the rush of Roman's love.

Roman waited for Dare's decision.

Dare couldn't open up the whole "this isn't
working" can of worms. Not now. That would lead to a night of
discussion and misery. Dare wasn't good at break-up conversations.
He tended to avoid them, and this one could surely wait until
Sunday.

So there was only one alternative.

"I accept punishment," Dare said, feeling his
insides tremble. It would be bad. And it would be good.

Roman laid a towel across the bed. "Sit up
against the headboard," he told Dare, and Dare complied.

"Bend your knees, then relax and let them
fall apart."

Dare did this, too, thinking fewer positions
were as vulnerable as this one. Roman laid the tool on the towel
between Dare's legs and dripped lubricant along its length.

"This will at first be easy, and then it will
be harder," Roman said, but Dare had seen the thing, and didn't
need to be told.

Roman lifted the bottle and let lube drip
across Dare's thighs and groin, and it dripped down and seeped
between his ass cheeks.

Dare started breathing fast, even though
nothing had happened yet.

"Touch yourself," Roman said, with the tight
smile that let Dare know he planned to enjoy every minute. "Slow
and gentle and lazy."

Dare obeyed, his pulse speeding up, his
arousal becoming obvious.

"Since you defied the gentle anal training,
we'll work on it this other way." Roman picked up the lubed toy and
ran it through his hands, spreading the lube. "I want you to watch,
as best as you can."

The smallest ball disappeared between Dare's
ass cheeks, and he could feel it prodding his hole, worming inside
with Roman's guiding pressure.

Dare sucked in his breath and squirmed,
because it was hard and poked into him sharply. The first knobs
were pretty small, and they slipped into Dare without
resistance.

"There's the first three," Roman said. "The
little ones."

He let one of his hands cover Dare's, helping
Dare stroke himself, and fed more of the bulbous snake into Dare's
ass. "Four and five."

Dare clenched his sphincter against the thing
and groaned, feeling the intense mix of pleasure and horror that
accompanied anal intrusion. He was gasping for breath now, and
letting Roman masturbate him with his own hand.

"You're going to have to work for it," Roman
said. "Push against it to unclench the muscle and let it in."

There came more pressure, and a little bit of
pain. Six. "Look at it," Roman said, and so Dare opened his eyes
and leaned a little bit forward to see the snake-like weapon
between his thighs. Dare's cock went rock hard because he was no
longer passive to this, he was submitting actively,
intentionally.

It was both the best part, and the part
hardest to accept. This was… dirty, raunchy, shocking. Outside the
norm. Forbidden and taboo. But oh, God. It felt so good, like the
physical embodiment of submission.

There were four balls still outside his body,
and the last two looked impossibly big. Dare knew it was an
illusion, though, and that if Roman required him to somehow take
them in, Dare would manage to accept them.

He thought he could feel the length of it
curving up inside his body. He imagined eight or ten globes all in
a line, and had lost count of how many were now inside him.

"Push again," Roman said, and the next ball
really stretched him before his body accepted it.

Roman hadn't lost count. "Seven."

Oh God. This part wasn't even close to
over.

How many were there, ten? It was agony not
knowing, and Dare opened his eyes, tried to look between his legs
to see how far he still had to go, and there was a twitch in his
thigh muscle that turned into a shudder that rolled through his
body. It lifted his hips and tightened his nipples, and he realized
his legs were taut, heels digging into the mattress, back pressed
firmly against the pillows. The shudder kept going, and it was like
a dry orgasm, and he was straining, straining to climax. Roman's
hand trailed up Dare's stomach and chest, fingers coming to rest on
his lips, and the nerve endings of Dare's skin experienced tiny
explosions all their own at Roman's touch.

"Mm, very lovely," Roman murmured, and it
felt to Dare like his ears might climax, too.

It was surreal, this aching surrender, and a
part of Dare wanted to separate from his body and watch from
somewhere up near the ceiling. But there would be none of that.

"Stay with me," Roman said. "Open your eyes
and look at me."

Dare opened his eyes. Roman was kneeling on
the bed between Dare's legs, leaning toward him so his face was
directly in front of Dare's face, so close that when they breathed
they were almost competing for air.

Roman lifted both his hands to Dare's head,
cradling his skull, just holding him and looking into his eyes.

It had the same effect as if he'd taken Dare
into his arms. Dare's gasping breaths slowed and evened out. His
tight body loosened a little bit, enough so Dare was able to relax
his shoulders, his neck.

Roman planted a kiss on Dare's mouth, his
lips soft and loving.

"Stay with me," he said again, then pulled
back, away, and Dare felt something akin to loss.

Roman poured lube on his fingers and used
them to make the rest of the toy slippery again. And then he let
his fingers slip between the rim of Dare's hole and the toy.

It didn't hurt. The toy was narrow in between
the plastic bulbs, and the only difficult stretching Dare
experienced was as each new and larger globe was pressed into
him.

Dare knew that the uninitiated thought being
the bottom or the submissive was a passive role. But it was
anything but passive to put your own needs aside and studiously
attend to the needs of another. To put a Master's comfort above
your own. To be a willing masochist available to the whims of a
creative sadist.

Jeff was good at it. The best. And Dare could
never match him. Nor would he want to, because that would be giving
up too much, giving up huge spaces of his life. This part, the
play, was giving up a few hours, an evening here and there, maybe a
weekend.