I don’t think it’s a legit idea for someone, whose mind that never fucking stops, to take an extended vacation. I was going out of my fucking head and there wasn’t much left up there to begin with. I’ve reorganized The Pit three times, I lost count on how often I’d redone the sound system and I have stepped on Fritz’s toes more often with cleaning and moving furniture around, that I was sure, soon he might poison my food.
I was getting antsy, inside my skull and my own body. I had outlets and no reason not to use them. It was either go to the Penthouse for the weekend or stay at the Manse and drive everyone off their rocker, including myself. The choice was obvious. First, I placed two texts, and then I had my own personally trained crew of Doggen in place, stocking my place at the Commodore and making sure it shined like an ebony diamond. It wouldn’t stay that way long and just thinking about the next forty eight hours was enough to have my bulge held tight behind my leathers growing and my throat tightening with groans.
I left the safety of the Brotherhood Grounds and came to form on the balcony of my Penthouse. With as old as I am, tricks of the mind came as easy as breathing for me, which is why all it took was a mere thought and the doors silently opened, revealing highly polished black tile floors that shone in the moonlight. I stood there for a moment, not moving, only breathing and existing in the how and now. This was home to me, a place that accepted all parts of me, with no judgment. There were times in my past that I had fallen apart within these walls, and other moments that I had flown higher than I could have ever imagined making it. But I couldn’t deny that there was a period where being here was too much. I had to disconnect from all parts of me, to be able to reconnect myself correctly. Right now I could feel the pulse of the space beating underneath my own flesh, it was calling to me like a lover would and I was drooling at the mouth to answer it.
My shitkickers stepped over the threshold and a cascade of coal black pillar candles came to life. I removed my leather jacket, weapons and dropped them in a high back chair. Now that I was free of those items, I took my time walking through, reacquainting us with one another, so to speak. With a smirk on my face I let my gloved fingers glide along the walls, over the freshly waxed wall of shelves and I stopped at my table, lovingly rubbing my palm over it.
I leaned down as if I was going to impart a secret, but this was one we both already knew.
The corners of my lips turned up in a savage grin as the wood beneath my fingers seemed to hum to life with an answer and I barely brushed my stubbled cheek against it almost affectionately before standing back up.
My arms extended out high above my head and went in a wide arc, stretching hard until I heard bones snapping back into place. I inhaled deeply, drawing in the scents of fresh wax, an undertone of clean freshness, and of course my own blend of smoke dotted the airwaves. I followed all that up by making me a drink, rolling a fresh blunt and then I was ready to start pressing some buttons. Literally. In my time away from this place, I hadn’t forgotten it completely. I had purchased the two levels directly below my floor, hired a contractor and started construction. Now it was time to reap the benefits of a two year long process.
All it took was a few swipes over the screen on my phone to start things into motion…As I stood there by the end of the kitchen counter, about five feet in front of me an area of a circle opened up. It all worked to perfection, silently and without any stuttering in movements. As soon as there was a gaping hole in my floor, it was filled with a center stage that came up through the opening. There was low lighting framing the bottom that gave off just enough to send shadows across the shiny tile. As beautiful as all that was, the focal point was what was placed upon the stage and he had my full attention now.
I was in no rush mentally, but physically, I wanted to shred him to pieces. Reining myself in control wasn't a problem. I could taste all the delectable things that I would be doing to him, it coated my tongue and throat and had me salivating for the actual acts. Still yet I stayed standing where I was with a short glass in hand and a blunt in the other, watching everything about him…admiring. He was on all fours, head bowed, shoulders were pulled back tight, showing the strain across his stretched skin and bulged muscles. He was an oldie but definitely a goodie. I hadn’t reached out to him or any of the usual well trained subs in years, and yet when my text went through, it was answered in minutes. Which brought us to where we are now,
I wasn’t one for beginners, therefore I stayed clear of any that wreaked of it, and they were easily spotted. But that was the lovely thing about the world of kink, you could always find those with taste that match yours.
I brought the glass to my lips, empty the contents down my parched throat and slid it across the smooth counter before pushing away and closing the distance between me and what I wanted. With each step his body reacted, the hairs on his nape stood as his arms locked into place and his breathing was the loudest indicator, it hitched and then stopped altogether. I ate up every fucking response as if it was a physical touch to my body. My own breaths came out in menacing above whisper growls and I snapped my fangs together when I was able to touch him and that solitary sound was enough to have his chest practically bursting open with the rush of O2 that flooded out.
My words were obviously laced with the deadly smirk that was mimicking my very features.
My gloved fingers slid over the top of his head, digging into the soft locks until I had a handful and yanked back until his chin was jutting upwards and his deep black eyes locked on my icy white ones. It was what I saw in that look that had my cock begging to be released from the tight confines of my leathers. It was a savage need that was pleading with me but without a single word being uttered.
“Such an obedient one…Let’s see if you can hold out as long as you used to be able to.”
His adams-apple lodged in one place and his dick was literally dancing between his parted thighs. My wicked grin grew and I dragged him forward a few inches, until he could bump his bare shoulder into me and yet he knew better than to try even that little of a touch.
‘I want to be used, abused, mutilated, degraded and destroyed. In every possible way, Master.’
I gave a nod, let go of my hold on him and walked over to my shelf. I grabbed a few basic items, choke collar, chain leash, cock cage with a sounding attachment, the obvious plug. He wasn’t here to get fucked, we both could get that anywhere. There was a very real chance my dick won’t even come into play at all. It wasn’t about that either. We knew the experience and release that one another could provide. With all that in my mind I made my way back to my toy of the night and adorned him with the loot that I brought with me. I almost laughed when I saw his excitement while I placed the metal around his neck, locked the hook in place, letting the leash hang down and then I motioned for him to sit up. I let out a low whistle as I let my gaze travel over his naked form, he bore many scars that he obtained well before his transitioning years and definitely not from a Dominant, no these were from those that were supposed to be his ‘family’. He actually blushed as he saw my deep approval of every fucking part of him, he was spectacular. I reached down between his legs, taking his nuts in my palm first, slipping them through the smooth circle before covering his dick with the cage contraption and slowly I place the long thin tube into his pisshole, teasing it in and out a few times, just to hear those small gasp that he let out, and when I thought he had enough, I closed the padlock and tossed the key over my shoulder. I gave a pat over his caged cock, stood up, and handed him the plug. He knew what to do with it and I enjoyed watching him suck on the tip before fully submerging it in his mouth, soaking it up as he fucked it between his lips, making a grand show of it for me. Of course I showed my appreciation as I took it from his mouth, circled the wet tip around the tight muscles of his ass, and he bent over fully, placing his hands on the stage floor and braced himself as I pushed it barely into his hole for the barest of a second and then rammed it fully home, shoving him a few inches with the force. The audible moan was done through gritted teeth and I smacked his ass for how good he had been during preparation.
“You are doing so fucking good. I can see that you have advanced in your training… It pleases me,”
Once again I almost laughed as he reacted to the praise and was practically strutting when I took a hold of the chain attached to his collar and led him over to my table. It was actually cute as fuck. When we reached it I stood back and watched as he stood up but when he stopped and stared at the ancient table, I thought he might be hesitating and if that was the case, it ended here and now. But he shocked him as he looked at me with a tear in his ebony eyes and placed his hand on the wood lovingly. I understood then, he had missed his sessions on my table. I nodded and he climbed up, laying himself out like the buffet he was. I waited long enough to make sure he was situated before locking both ankles in the leather cuffs, as well as both of his wrist, which were placed on either side of him and placing a full leather hooded mask over his head, taking his sight fully away.
For this occasion I wanted to be close so I chose a blade that was an old favorite, leather handle, short blade. I took a deep breath in through my nose, held it there while all the candle flames, on demand flare almost to the ceilings and as they settle down to low dancing levels a slow rush of air comes out of me.
I started slowly, rubbing the dull side of the blade down his arms, taking my time to familiarize him with it, circling along his sides and lightly scraping the tip over his hip bones. His breathing was pants that went into a small gasp but that was the only movement you saw of his body. I licked my lips, and listened to the loud rush of his blood just under the surface. It was a song and it was playing for me, reaching into me with each lyric as it coursed through his various veins.
I allowed this comfort play to go on for a little while before I switched it up, turning the polished metal over, scraping the lethal tip over the same areas, this time leaving angry lines behind. Once again only his breathing showed any response. The fact that he was able to withhold was a testament to his abilities and motherfuck, if that didn’t have my one nutted wonder tightening up snug against my raging hard on.
My words came out raspy and harsh.
And he did exactly that as I pressed the sharpness into his flesh covering his left peck, piercing it enough that a drop of blackness bubbled up until it spilled down his side. I was rewarded with hearing his sharp intake of breath that ended on a moan. From that point on I was Edward Scissorhands, slicing and carving his skin as if it was my own personal canvas, and while he was in my hands, he did belong to me. It was the heavy scent of his blood filling the air that had me growling through every deep cut I made into his body, relieving him of more and more of his life essence. I could no longer see any other color on him except reds and blacks. Some lacerations I took my sweet time on, digging in nice and deep until I could physically feel him react. There were other slits that were superficial but each one definitely added to the collage. If anyone was to barge in at this moment, it would truly look as though I was slaughtering the male, and in a sense, I was.
“I have you for forty eight hours. One day of play and one day of healing, and you will need the whole twenty four hours.”
The blood drenched cock cage between his thighs was frantically moving as his dick pulsated, trying to fill, begging. I reached down with my leather clad fingers, smacking the contraption before diving my hand further down to his ass and pressing the thick plug deeper inside of him. A ragged scream tore from his mouth, muffled slightly by the hood and he was rewarded with me yanking the intrusive object out.
“I think it needs more lube on it.”
I could see his head nodding before he spoke words.
‘YES PLEASE Master. It’s been so long since anyone fucked my own blood in my asshole. Pretty Please Master!’
That was all I wanted to hear, begging in the right mind set, meant every fucking thing. When you can take them to the point that they admit all the things they want, need, desire, it’s a high unlike anything else.
“Since you asked so nicely…”
I rolled the plug down his bloody torso, smearing it along the way and I didn’t stop until I could hold the plug up and it was dripping red. When he felt my arm reach down to his legs, he spread them open wider, giving me all the room I needed to get to his ass. I played with the tip, just as I did the first time and again rammed it straight into his hole, stretching him wide open and bringing about another series of moans and shouts.
I stood there beside him on my table, watching closely as the various gashes trickled all over him and the wood. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me harder, thinking about his blood soaking into the surface, permanently.
I bent down some, getting close enough that my breath could be felt against his neck as I spoke.
“Since you have pleased me greatly so far, I am going to be nice and tell you a couple things we will be doing together tonight.”
While I talked I let my fingers glide between the wounds covering his body, slipping into some of them, making them bleed anew.
“I have this beautiful industrial hook, attached to the ceiling that you will hang from, while I whip you and allow you to make a splattering mess, then at some point I will sit back and watch as you lick it all up so we can move onto other forms of play.”
