Unleashed (32 page)

“Uh-huh, you go nowhere. You’ll take
your punishment like a good little twit, and you’ll damned well like it.” Ezra is panting out rough breaths and he looks anticipatory. Shit!

“I’m sorry, Mas
ter, please forgive my rudeness,” I cry out.

“Ah- now my twit Kitty Kat i
s sincere.” I’m rewarded with a sharp whack to my thigh. “Three more, now let’s get you into a better position.” Ezra arranges me like I’m a doll, or in this case, his toy- pet, whatever you want to call me. My knees are on the edge of the bed, my chest and head flat on the bed, my ass is high in the air like a cat in heat. Ezra uses the cane to part my legs farther apart by tapping it on the inside of my ankles until I comply by moving.

I s
cream into the duvet as I’m simultaneously caned and speared, fingers twisting, clawing, into the bedding. Ezra is balls deep inside my pussy and my upper-back is flaming from my punishment. How the fuck did Ezra do that? I gasp into the covers in shock. 

“Don’t cum, Katya, I mean it
,” Ezra harshly warns. “This is something you’ve never learned, but as a dominant, it is required. The master holds the rights to all pleasure and pain. You don’t get a release until I say so.”

Ezra roughly yanks my hair
to gain my attention. Oh, that’s right, I’m supposed to reply. “Yes, Master,” I whimper out.

“And be qu
iet, everyone is home right now,” Ezra murmurs in a highly amused and aroused voice.

“Yes, Master,
” I breathe.

Ezra
starts moving inside me, impossibly slow. Long thrusts that seem endless. I can feel every inch of him, the rounded head breaching me on every thrust, even the veins running down his thick length. He is harder, more aroused than the previous times he’s been inside me. There is no way I can stay my release. I’ve never had to. I’ve never needed to. Something tells me this is part of my test- a test of strength, will, and restraint. I can’t fail this part or my master will be very disappointed in me.

I keen into the mattress as I tense my entire body. It’s a miracle that I have climaxed yet. There is no way I
can pretend if I did- Ez would know. I scream at my body as it tries to eagerly milk Ezra’s cock. I haven’t cum yet, but just this side of not.

A sharp cut to my shoulder has me screaming. The cane slides under my neck and lifts me upright. I can’t move. Ezra’s left hand is wrapped around my wrists at the small of my back. His right hand is using the
cane to navigate me. I either rise or choke. He uses the cane to force my back against his chest while he thrusts antagonizingly slow and deep inside of me.

“I told you to be quiet and you disobeyed me,” hisses in my ear.

“I’m sorry, Master,” I cry out.

“Words mean nothing, Katya, actions do. Prove to me that you want to obey me, that you want me to be proud of you. Do as I say, Katya, and do it well.” The Master Ez voice is low and scary. He is speaking lower than a whisper, yet he enunciates each word with perfect clarity.

The hand on my wrists loosens
, and when I don’t jerk them away, Ezra slowly removes his hand. He covers my mouth with it. Now I wish his hand was still restraining me. I don’t like his hand on my mouth. The fact that Ezra knows I’ll be screaming more frightens me. My body shudders, unable to contain the fear.

“I like that, that you’re afraid right now
,” Master Ez hoarsely whispers in my ear. “Feel how hard it gets me.” He sharply thrusts into my aching pussy. Ezra’s right, his cock feels like velvet covered steel as it rapidly impales me.

The cane leaves my throat and I breathe a sigh of relief again
st Ezra’s palm. I lean my head back to rest on his shoulder and close my eyes as I revel in the sensation of Ezra smoothly gliding inside me.

Fire blazes across my mound. I curse myself for getting a Brazilian wax. The hair would have cushioned the blow. I pride myself on barely making a whimper. Except now the pain is adding to the intense pleasure Ezra is giving me. He is totally owning me right now, mastering my pain and pleasure
. The thought has me momentarily forget that I’m not supposed to cum. I catch myself as I’m about to fly off the precipice.

“Very good, Katya, I’m so proud of you. The pain feels good now
, doesn’t it? You like the pain. I’m proud to know that my pet can start off with the stronger toys. Your threshold starts at an eight on a scale of ten. I’m so very proud,” he whispers with every thrust.

Master Ez’
s praise has me preening under his touch. The tone of his voice is full of emotions I cannot fathom. The sound of his moans against my ear is proof that I make my master happy and proud. A discombobulating sensation overcomes me. I’m fucked in the head for the emotions that rush throughout my psyche at this very moment.

“I d
on’t give you permission to cum this time, Kitty Kat. It is your punishment for being rude to me. Accept the gift of my seed inside you and let it nourish your womb.” Ezra’s voice rasps in my ear. He latches onto the permanent mark that he and Cortez placed on the side of my neck, and forcefully sucks, tongue lathing over the tender flesh. I almost climax from the incredible sensation of Ezra’s suction. He knows that it always does me in. It’s a test of my endurance.

Ezra
taps the cane against my swollen labia, sliding it in between my lips, coming in direct contact with my engorged clit. I whimper against his palm and try to move away from the sensation. He’s going to bring me with the cane. I start to count backwards to distract myself.

“Good girl,” Ezra heartily
chuckles in my ear as his thrusts pick up speed. The cane moves in time with his cock.

“Fuck,” breath
es past my lips as I bask in the sensations wracking my body. I hold myself at the precipice. I don’t allow myself to fall.

“I love you,” Ezra
moans out as he erupts inside of me. I feel him spurt over and over and he feeds the sounds of his orgasm into my mouth through his kiss. I swallow his moans while his body shakes from orgasmic aftershocks. “You’re perfect,” Ezra says as he rubs my tummy with the palm of his hand, the cane still twined in his fingers. “Thank you for allowing me to top you one last time,” he sadly says.

“We won’t do this
ever again?” I ask Ezra, confusion twisting my voice.

“We will play as we just did. But even
this wasn’t real. You’ll be a master soon, and I see you growing very strong. But you’ll forever be a switch, and you’ll crave the feeling of truly submitting to someone- the sensation of when you have little choice but to kneel before your master. I can’t do that for you, Katya, and I know it. I’m not strong enough. I want you to know what it feels like to truly serve your master…to submit because you have little choice.”

Ezra has tears in his eyes, and I want to take them away.
But everything he said is true. I’ve never been compelled by him. I do it out of respect. I read between the lines. I know Ezra is giving me to the Master- the one that takes Cort’s mouth, the one that Ezra tries to emotionally hurt. He is their true master, and he will be mine, too.

“Ah, Kitty Kat, don’t be sad
,” Ezra croons. “It’s a good thing. I don’t want to be your master because I want to be your husband, instead. We have a daughter who is at the cusp of womanhood. I don’t want Ava to see you as beneath me. I want her to know that we are partners, equals, and nothing less.”

Ezra tenderly
kisses me and rubs my tummy. He keeps murmuring
I love you
against my lips. “I wonder if Cort’s or my seed took root inside of you that last time. Perhaps a miracle and both worked.” He bends down and kisses my stomach. “I’m rather fond of the idea of twins. One light, one dark, or perhaps they will be fair with green eyes. Boys? I like the idea of sons.”

“There are no guarantees, Ezra,” I chastise
, but it’s lessened by the stupid look on my face- soft and adoring.

“Ah- but the fun is in the trying. Rest, I’ll clean you up while you relax. You have a big night ahe
ad of you.” Ezra sounds excited.

“I don’t think it was a good idea to beat me, work me over, and not allow me release just befor
e my final in front of all the Masters, do you?”

“No, not a good idea
,” Ezra says with a naughty smirk. “I think it was a fantastic idea. I wonder what you will do when you are crazed for release. Will you allow your submissive to ease you, Katya?” He smirks at me.

“You, ba
stard! You planned this,” I yell at Ezra as I punch him in the chest.

“I will let that rude name go for now since it is true in every sense of the word.
And yes, I planned this. I want you to overcome your issue. Now, we will see what you’ll do.”

“I’
m very controlled. If you couldn’t make me come against your wishes then Monica won’t be able to. I should hold out just to spite you, to prove you wrong,” I taunt him.

“Don’t be stubborn,
Kat,” Ezra pleads, “really, don’t. I want you to enjoy yourself, immensely, your submissive, too. It’s an important night for you both. Rest! I’ll clean you up and get you dressed.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

I’m le
d into the dungeon with a hood drawn over my head. Ezra told me this was part of an initiation as well. The idea doesn’t make me feel any better. I hear nothing over my insanely loud breathing as it echoes inside the hood.

The hood is ab
ruptly drawn over my head in a voila fashion. Whoever led me in here and removed my hood is gone. I turn in a complete circle and see nothing. I’m standing in the middle of the dungeon in total darkness. I can’t see, hear, smell, or feel anything. I can sense the presence of a handful of others a short distance to my right. I splay my hand in front of me and use it to feel my way around- nothing. I’m in an abyss. My senses sharpen and I feel a disruption in the air just over my shoulder. I slowly turn trying not to mess myself up with my own movements and the sound of my labored breath. I calm my heart to a rapid tattoo instead of the flat line screech it was giving.

I lightly sniff the air. I smell a clean scent that
I’m fond of- citrusy and soft- Monica. I know she is within my range. I stand still without breathing. I swear I stop my heart. I hear Monica in the absence of my own noise. I move a few steps to my left and palm her cheek, knowing exactly where she is in correlation to myself.

“Monica,” I breathe out as I caress my submissive’s face.

A bright light pops on. I hear the buzz of the electricity running through the wires before the light registers with my brain. I blink into the blindness. I try to see what is beyond the light, but the light has a dual purpose: showcases Domme and submissive and blinds me to everything outside its circle.

I realize I passed my first test. I found my sub in the absence of light by using my own sense
s as was covered in my training with sensory deprivation. I smirk to myself for my ingenuity. I hear several muted chuckles. I guess they’re supposed to maintain the ominous feel of the dungeon and my initiation. I smile brightly with the knowledge that I passed step one and they failed their own test of staying silent.

I was able to separate the di
fferent laughs. I heard Cort loud and clear and it relaxes me- floods me with a sense of calm. This isn’t life or death. This is just a test. I relax and decide to let my training flow through me as I work my submissive by fulfilling her needs and my own. I seek our mutual enjoyment.

I find Monica dressed in a cloak and nothing else. Even her hair is unbound. She looks ethereal
underneath the bright light without her clothing and harsh hairstyle as a shield.

“So b
eautiful,” I say as I divest Monica of her cloak. And she is beautiful. I skim my fingertips along the soft curve of her small breasts.

“The
y’re not as big as Kayla’s,” Monica whispers to me as I cup the globe of her breast in my palm. My hand flashes out in punishment, hitting sharply on her erect nipple. Monica lets out a silent scream, a gasp of air that wheezes out.

“Don’t ever let me hear
you say such a thing again. I’m your master for this evening. This breast is my breast. Don’t ever compare yourself to another person again, Monica,” I severely chastise her.

“But i
t’s true,” she whines.

“I’
m going to teach you a lesson, so listen closely. The only person you compare yourself to is yourself. There is too much jealousy and bitterness in this world, and it’s unnecessary. You may not be the prettiest person on this Earth, or the smartest, thinnest, sexiest, or most interesting.” Monica bitterly sobs at my judgment. “But someone is always homelier, less intelligent, chubbier, more frigid, or just plain dull. These people have no bearing on you. You’re an individual. You are unique. You’re an original. There is only one you, Monica.”

I grip Monica’s
chin in my fingertips. “And all this is of little consequence because a good submissive knows the only opinion that matters is her master’s opinion. I just called you beautiful and you dismissed it, you called me a liar with your scoff. You showed me that you don’t trust me to speak the truth.”

“I’m sor
ry, Mistress. I’m so sorry,” Monica sobs out.

“Good, may you retain this
lesson.” I tap her temple. “Inside here is negativity that has to go. It’s toxic to your being. Tonight, the only thing that matters is me. Watch me for clues, please me, make me proud.”

“Yes, Mistress,
” Monica submits.

“Now, where was I? That’s right
, I was inspecting my new pet.” I softly run my fingertips on every inch of Monica’s body, testing her response, finding her erogenous zones and tender spots. By the time I finish my circuit, she is mewing like a kitten and following the course of my hand.

“There is something I love to do and I’m going to do it to
you whether you like it or not. Whether pleasure or pain, I want you to speak encouragements to me as if you enjoy my attentions. Tell me how much you like it, pet, and I will be very pleased.”

I stand behind Monica
so that our audience has a frontal view. I knot the hair at the nape of her neck in my fist, wrapping the tendrils around my fingers. I yank, drawing her neck out in a smooth line for my biting pleasure. I slowly move in, building Monica’s anticipation. I lock my stare in the general direction of the watching masters as I savagely bite her throat. Monica screams out my name as I mark my territory.

“Ah- p
et, that is definitely encouraging. I love the sound of your pain. I may only have you for this evening, depending on our master’s whims, but I will leave a lasting impression on your pink, tender flesh.”

“Oh God,” Monica moans, knees giving out
.

“I love encouragement when I’m not even doin
g anything, please go on.” I snidely say. Someone snorts in the crowd, and I can’t help but smile.

I continue to nip my way
down Monica’s spine with my teeth. She repeatedly says
OH GOD
over and over. “How about we change that up a bit? Shall we, Monica. Try
Oh Goddess
. Your prayers to the divine aren’t going to grow me a cock, no matter how much we both want me to have one.” A few chuckles erupt. “I’m such a comedian,” I sarcastically say.

I go
back to my feast, and Monica continues her moans by calling me Kat. “No, seriously Monica, call me Goddess. Tonight I’m your master. Maybe a few prayers to the Wiccan Goddess, Nyx, will provide me with a cock.” 

I bite Monica’s round
ass cheek, teeth deliciously sinking into the flesh. A surge of pride wells inside of me as I gaze at the marks I leave behind. Some I lay quite painfully. I use this as an indicator for Monica’s pain threshold. The amount of
Oh Goddesses
erupting from her throat, tells me she is a little pain slut.

When I reach Monica’s thighs, I
find them glistening with her arousal. I almost cum from the force of knowing that I’m pleasing and giving to a woman who just a few short months ago disliked me. You can get more flies with honey. And in this case, the honey is flowing from Monica’s engorged cunt.

A
smile of pure satisfaction stretches across my face, relishing that I’m the reason Monica is writhing beneath my touch. No one else- me, I’m mastering this bitch into submission.

Earlier
, I had requested a swing to place Monica in. I wanted her suspended for my pleasure and her comfort. I move Monica around like I’m her marionette. I’m satisfied when she is in a slight sitting position. Her feet are suspended from the floor with her thighs widely spread, showcasing her beautiful, hairless cunny.

I kno
w that Monica’s biggest hang-up is her self-image. As a master, we need to fulfill our submissive’s needs while meeting our own. In this case, I need to make Monica feel cherished and wanted while I get over my hang-ups and fill my need to provide women with pleasure. If I can pull this off, I know I will pass my ultimate test.

“I need to taste you, p
et. I’ve dreamed of little else in the past few weeks since I touched your tight and wet pussy.” My voice is raw and husky with unsuppressed hunger.

“Mistress,” Monica pl
eads.

“I know you want me to, p
et. Just relax and enjoy,” I purr in a seductive tone I didn’t know myself capable. I kneel in front of Monica in the perfect example of a submissive pose, with the exception that I do not bow my head. Instead, I suck the juices that coat the insides of Monica’s thighs. I lap up all her glistening goodness.

Monica
violently thrashes in her swing when the tip of my tongue grazes her bare, outer lips. I slowly slide my tongue up her slit, stroking her until I meet the soft flesh within. “Oh Goddess,” echoes around the room as I inhale her taste and juices.