"Who?"
Master. She swallowed. Sir. Please... She couldn't think of anything now, couldn't reason or rationalize. She wasn't Lady Kaela at all...
"No? Who are you?" He sounded menacing enough to send a ripple of true fear through her.
Yours. Your property. Your submissive. Your slave.
"Say it out loud."
She did, the effort making shameful saliva on her lips, over the edge of the mask.
"I can do anything I want to you."
She nodded. "Yes, sir. Yes, Master."
He stood up, sending her spinning with a hard shove. He kept doing it, sometimes smacking her ass, tweaking a breast before he pushed her off again. Then he caught her, unbuckled the gag and pulled it free before putting his mouth over hers for a hard, branding kiss.
Everything a demand, seemingly violent, out of control. But it wasn't. When he pulled out the gag, he'd guided it with his fingers, held her steady, made sure it didn't knock against her teeth, chip her fangs. When he kissed her now, he unzipped the mask, took it away, cradling her scalp and holding his thumbs over her eyes, a mute command to keep them closed as the kiss drew out. His fingers dug into her hair, hard, scalp pulling.
You're mine, that gesture said. All fucking mine. I cherish you. Love you. Love you enough to hate you, to be angry, but to channel all of it into this, a night that tells you who owns your very soul. And who owns mine.
She wanted to touch him more than she wanted anything in her whole life, but he wasn't in the mood for mercy or kindness beyond that slight easing of his touch. He replaced the gag, put a regular blindfold on her and kept on going, as if he hadn't already pushed her past the breaking point.
He held her suspended for awhile, experimenting with nipple and clit clamps. Then he wrapped her up in what felt like Christmas tinsel before passing his hands over her, electrifying it with tiny licks of sparks. Having seen electric play before, she knew he had a violet wand attached to him, probably shoved in his waistband so the electricity could conduct through his hands. He took her back to a screaming orgasm, leaving her writhing and jerking in her bonds. After he stripped her of the tinsel, he used a different attachment to the wand, stroking it between her legs, up over her breasts, until she came again.
When he finally lowered her from the suspension, she was exhausted. Her pussy and ass were throbbing around those steel balls. He freed her from his "web", putting her on the cold floor to remove the balls and hook, but left her arms wrapped and legs tied tightly closed. She laid there, her heart thudding in her ears, aware of his heartbeat, his breath, the heat that pulsed from him, strong as ever. He wasn't flagging in the slightest.
As if to prove it, he lowered himself to the ground behind her. She made a soft sound for mercy as he stroked her hair, but then he slid up behind her, let her feel the thick steel bar of his cock. "You're still serving your Master, my lady. No break for you."
He pushed his cock into that tight opening and her pussy welcomed his invasion, rippling over him, her hips trying to lift and lower to accommodate his thick size. She had no energy to reach a climax, but this time his intent was to only give himself release, which perversely started to arouse her once more. As he held onto her waist and thrust into her with animal-like focus, hips slamming against her ass, she was moaning again. When he came, she felt the searing heat of it in her cunt and then on her thighs as his semen spilled out of her, wetting the ropes when he pulled out. Pulling her up to her knees by her hair and a steadying hand on her throat, he fed his cock between her lips.
"Clean me off, my lady. I want to be nice and polished for the next thing I'm going to do for you."
And she thought a vampire had stamina?
He let out that sexy, scary chuckle, telling her he'd heard that loud and clear, and was confirming it. God, she wanted in his mind. But he'd said...
"I meant it, my lady. Pull that shit and the night is over. But you keep your mind wide open to me. That's part of the same deal."
Whether he'd intended to prove it to her or not, he'd shown her he understood what drove vampires to dominate their servants in such elaborate, demanding sexual games. Garron had a Dominant's drive to see what a submissive would do for Master or Mistress, to serve them beyond their physical or emotional capacity to do so. While she'd been horrified by the few times she'd seen that forced by vampires with the wrong kind of relationship with their servant--whether or not they acknowledged such a qualification was possible--when trust and devotion were part of the Master-servant relationship, it was different. To a servant who had that, nothing would ever be too much for a Master or Mistress to ask. Fran showed such devotion, hoping for that kind of relationship, and Jacob obviously already possessed it with Lady Lyssa.
Garron was showing Kaela she was the same kind of sub.
With a vampire who understood and valued it, like what Kaela had witnessed between Lady Lyssa and Jacob, there was a savage beauty to it, an emotional well that Kaela had longed to experience for herself.
He pulled himself free of her mouth, bent and put her over his shoulder, lifting her once again. As they moved forward, she began to detect faint noises and music that became louder. He was taking her back to the club. Her stomach quaked at the thought. Then a door opened and closed, and the scents told her they were back in his private room, which helped her relax. She didn't want to be around anyone else, didn't want to share him with anyone else tonight. She smelled something sharper, something she hadn't detected the first time she'd been here. Fire. Smoke.
He unwrapped her arms and legs, m
assaged them briefly. It was functional care, not caressing, making it clear it wasn't aftercare. Yet he was still gentle about it. Did he know how devastating that was, to be on the painful end of a switch with him, then feel the press of his lips on those welts? Like the stroke of his hands now, their firm strength as he checked her muscles, cared for her, made sure the kind of pain she was experiencing was what he wanted her to experience. The kind that had sent her into screaming orgasm--how many times now?--even as he broke her down so completely, she knew she was his slave entirely.
She'd seen a human-sized wheel in here on their last visit, so she knew that was where he put her this time, scooping her off the mat and fixing her arms and legs to the pins so she was spread out once more. From the clasp of steel at her wrists and ankles, she realized he'd reinforced the bindings with the ones that were strong enough to hold a vampire. He inserted a new gag, a rubber phallus that filled her mouth, stopping just short of her gag reflex.
"Scream all you want this time, my lady." He put his hand against her cheek, pressing her face to the wheel. Then he bit her throat, snapping down like a pit bull and holding on.
The erotic wave was immediate. She wanted to break free, hold him, take him into her body. Despite all the climaxes he'd given her, feeding him was a whole different level of erotic give and take between them. She needed him inside her.
"Do you feel you've earned that, my lady?"
She wanted to scream yes, but the part that had surrendered to him spoke instead. That's for my Master to decide.
Her mind voice didn't sound like herself. It was small, quiet...waiting on his will and desires.
Something plastic pressed against her throat. He was catching the blood in a container, and then she felt him painting it on the inside of her thigh, then higher, underneath her arm, below the arm pit, against the swell of her left breast.
There was only one reason to put a vampire's blood on her unbroken skin. To anchor a mark, make it a permanent scar. Now she understood the smell of fire. A part of her responded in terror and alarm, but another part of her let out a sigh of longing and relief so deep, she wanted him to do it now, now, now, before anything could change his mind.