Wrecked (The Blackened Window) (25 page)

“You are mine. Don’t forget that tonight,” I murmured against her mouth, still tasting her. As I pulled back from her, I saw worry in her eyes. “And I’m yours, little girl. I won’t forget.” I brushed her hair back from her face, resisting the urge to tangle my fingers on the back of her scalp and bend her in front of me. Instead, I took her hand and pulled her toward the dungeon.

She hesitated on the threshold, intimidated, but I pulled her on, refusing to let her fear stop me now, unless she safeworded. I pulled her through the space, intending to find an area where I could start teasing her a little, teach her what she was now. The low sounds of ecstatic agony washed over me, occasionally punctuated by the crack of a hand or implement on flesh.

I didn’t speak to her further. I can admit that I was parading her a little. I pulled her by her hand and she was so overwhelmed that she just followed where I led.
As it should be.
She looked wide-eyed, innocent and young. I knew I looked feral, predatory and menacing. I loved the dichotomy.

I passed a few areas we could have played in, but they weren’t right for various reasons—a scene I didn’t want to be close to, the wrong implements. We were passing another scene that I didn’t look too closely at—a female sub, kneeling in front of a Domme, who was speaking softly to her. As we were about to pass, the Domme stepped back and turned, catching me in her peripheral vision. Mistress Seraphim.

I knew Seraphim from the scene, only knew her scene name. She was my age, maybe a little older, with deep cocoa skin she kept wrapped in leather and latex. She was a bitch of a Domme and was hard on her slaves…and she owned slaves, didn’t just have subs. She turned and walked to us, intentionally leaving her slave, making it seem careless, as if she wasn’t all that important to her.

“Xander, you brought a fresh one, very fresh by her expression. New slave?” Her voice was thick with disdain. She didn’t agree with how lenient I was with subs. She was just into different shit that me. The old BDSM mantra trickled through my mind,
your kink is not my kink.

“This is Leda. Leda, this is Mistress Seraphim. Say hello.” We hadn’t even discussed dungeon etiquette. But Leda was such a sub that she just naturally did a pretty good job.

She dropped her eyes, mumbling, “Hello.”

Seraphim saw Leda’s discomfort and decided to fuck with her, snapping her paddle against her hand with a loud crack. “Little Leda, come watch me train my slave. She has been very defiant. I think you could learn something, maybe your Master here would pick up some techniques.” Her face stretched in a devilish smile.

It was perfect. Seraphim was a sadist in all senses of the word and would be open to a new way to fuck with her slave. I thought she might be able to help. I leaned into her space and spoke into her ear. “Leda is
exceptionally
new to this and I want her to see what we do without pushing her too much. Can you help me out?”

As I stood back, the evil in her eyes was awe-inspiring. She turned back to her space, saying, “Come with me.”

Her slave still knelt, with her eyes downcast, breathing softly.

Seraphim turned back to me. “This thing is my pet. Why don’t you take her tonight, Xander? She’ll get the pain she craves. Your Leda will learn something. And I won’t wear my arm out. That girl can take a lot.” Seraphim rubbed her shoulder as if she remembered some previous play session that had worn her out.

I considered the offer. It was nearly perfect, but all hinged on her slave’s honest consent. It felt weird to get that now, when we were practically already in-scene. “Your girl would consent to that?”

“I believe so. She’s accustomed to being used by others. She knows what she is, but, for your comfort, let’s ask her. Girl-thing, attend.” Seraphim’s voice wasn’t pitched louder than usual, but her girl scurried over and resumed her picture-perfect resting pose at her feet. Seraphim tilted her chin up. Her features had an Asian cast to them and her eyes were a warm chocolate brown. Her hair fell in a loose sheet around her shoulders and she only wore a pair of black panties. “Red. I’m halting our scene for a moment. Understand me?”

The girl’s tension dropped even as consternation crossed her features. “What the hell, Sera? Why are you stopping?”

“That fucking mouth.” Seraphim smiled, “I’m not displeased with you, but I’d like to alter our plans. This is Master Xander. He’s a friend of mine. He is training a new slave and wants her to see what he likes. I’d like to lend you to him for the night.”

A wave of pleasure washed over her features. “If it pleases you, Mistress. I am happy to serve.”

Seraphim ruffled her hair. “Of course you are. Because you want to be a good little pet.” She turned to me. “Will she do?”

I smiled. “What’s your name, girl?”

The slave tensed, but Seraphim stilled her and answered me, “She doesn’t use a name when she plays. She goes by girl, or thing, or the letter A. She doesn’t want an identity.” Seraphim shrugged as if it meant little, but her eyes drilled the message home to me. This was part of this girl’s kink.

That set chills trickling over my skin. “I need a safeword and limits.”

“Her safewords are Capsize, Red or the house safeword, Cajun. Her limits are fists, kicking, blood play.
My
limits include those, but you also may not fuck my slave without both her and my consent.”

A small squeak escaped Leda’s lips and I tightened my grip on her hand. “Very good.”

Seraphim made a gesture that the slave was all mine, but turned back and added, “You should know she’s incredibly defiant. She needs to be torn down, Xander.”

I smiled again, reveling in my own wickedness. “Very good.”

As Seraphim moved A
to a table for me, I found a safe space for Leda, along the wall, outside of anyone’s backswing. “Sit down,” I said, as I pushed her shoulders down. She sat so cute, like a lady, with her legs folded under her.

I squatted down in front of her and grabbed her jaw to get her full attention. “You will sit here. You will not move. You will not talk with anyone other than me, Mistress Seraphim, Christy or Jason, and only if they seek you out. Anyone else in here tries to talk to you, I want you to immediately come get me. No one should fuck with you, but there are always predators.”

She looked at me blankly.

“Little girl, tell me you understand.”

Her pupils dilated and her pulse jumped. “I understand, Xander.” She smiled, giving me more reassurance than any words could have, but she added, “I’m green, Boss.” I kissed her hard and walked away.

I didn’t look back, but it took all my discipline. Seraphim’s slave was naked and arranged on a table for me. I bent down so my face was in her face and tilted her chin up to force her to look at me. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Capsize, Red or Cajun,” she said confidently.

“You agree to this?”

She glanced to the side and saw Seraphim stepping away to get her drink, when she looked back at me, she rolled her eyes. “Sure.” Her tone was pure brat.

“What are your limits?”

“I doubt it’ll matter. You look like a pussy.”

I paused, surprised that she’d be so provocative from the start. I glanced at Seraphim chatting with the Dungeon Mistress, Kyla. When I looked back at the girl, challenge was written in her features as she spoke, “My Mistress has earned my respect. You haven’t. Give me your worst and we’ll see which one of us breaks first.”

I had to stop myself from laughing.
This is going to be fun.

I grabbed her face, squeezing enough to make her lips press open, ugly. I just held her there, staring her down and she met my gaze, daring me to hurt her. I squeezed her face a little harder, and I saw a wash of want go through her eyes, quickly replaced by that challenge again. I felt my lips quirking into a smile, and nodded as I stood. As I turned away, I was aware of Leda, watching, tension visible in her shoulders. She would learn.

Seraphim had laid her toys out on a table to the side. Floggers, paddles, rope, a Wartenberg Pinwheel, a whip, a dragon tail, restraints, gags, clamps and a few candles. I grabbed a flexible, thin cane, knowing it could be too much or just enough.

A was laying face up, legs spread, knees bent over the edge of the table. She was clean shaven, wet, lips plump. Her anticipation was visible in the way she shook a little, breathing quickly.

“Here we go.”

She tensed and I waited a few beats. When her tension eased, I snapped the cane across her thighs. Once, twice. Shifting a bit, so the welts bloomed distinct from each other. She held her breath and I gave her a few more.

“Don’t hold your breath or you’ll pass out. That would be disappointing.”

I held her gaze as I dropped a few more swats across her thighs, delivering the last one high enough that it was at the crease of her legs meeting her hips. The cane just caught the bare mound of her pussy. She whined and moaned, starting to squirm.

I stepped closer to her, steadying her, my hand on her tummy. She moaned again and pushed her body into my hand, a fine sheen of sweat already making her skin a little tacky. I bent across her body and picked her head up by her hair.

“Are you going to hold still or do you need to be tied up?” I knew my face was blank and my voice was cold. I didn’t care about warm fuzzies right now. I didn’t care if she liked me, thought I was a ‘good guy’. None of that mattered. All that mattered was that she respected me, feared me.

“Yeah, why don’t you tie me up? It’ll be fun.” Then she fucking winked at me and smiled.

I laughed as I stepped away to grab the rope. I wound it around her body and the table, with a loop around her neck that would be pulled if she moved her limbs too much. I liked the predicament bondage, where moving one thing caused a different problem for a sub. As I stepped back, Seraphim was there, handing me a spreader, nodding toward A’s groin. I strapped it between her thighs, locking them open.

“Is she being a brat?” Seraphim smiled. She obviously had expected that her sub would give me shit.

“Just a bit.” I stepped to the end of the table.

Seraphim smiled and gestured for me to take the lead.

I leaned to the girl’s ear. “Ready to begin?”

She nodded, sucking in a breath and letting it out slowly.

I stood and she was laid out in front of me, a complete offering. I rolled my shoulders back and straightened my neck. I took a moment to savor her anticipation, and checked Leda in my peripheral vision. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows up, biting her lip.
Jesus.

I snapped the cane down on the inside of A’s arm and she twitched. Then I moved to alternating between sides, consistently getting the delicate flesh on the inside of her upper arm, leaving cross-hatching welts. Each strike garnered a jolt, but she was starting to pant and a thicker sweat dampened her hairline.

I grabbed the edge of the table and spun it one hundred and eighty degrees so I stood between her propped open knees, and her pussy looked so inviting, wet and just starting to gap a bit.

I looked at Leda, thinking about being inside her. She was leaning forward, mouth parted, eyes bright. She shifted her hips a little, like she was thinking about sex too.
Is she getting hot watching this?
My cock ached and I felt a growl in my throat. She smiled at me, and the bestial part of me was quelled for a bit.

Her eyes shifted to the slave in front of me and her expression was…envy. Not jealousy,
envy
. She wanted to be there. Maybe not the exact situation, but she wanted to be surrendered, vanquished, ravished. Fucking wrecked.

A took the short break to take a few breaths, and I switched to a flogger, knowing I wanted to hit her more and I’d make her bleed eventually if I kept going with the cane. A small voice deep inside was appalled and disgusted, but this was what I was. I could not—and would not—try to change it. I had been through all that self-loathing, trying to do anything else with myself and my relationships. It didn’t work.

The slave-girl had closed her eyes, but tears leaked out at the edges and I smiled at how peaceful her face was otherwise.

“Starting again.” I said it as I snapped my wrist, not giving her a moment to prepare. I rolled my wrist around over and over, never pausing. The falls of the flogger snapped against her skin, and I stepped around the table, moving up the side of her body and around her head. I whipped her flanks and her breasts as she shuddered and moaned, shifting her hips. I found that I liked being at her side best, with access to all of her.

After a series of strikes with varying intensity, I held for a moment, then struck her chest repeatedly. As she rode the pain and sensation, I grabbed a nipple, squeezing until she vocalized. The sound of a woman in pain, in the right pain, was perfection. She opened her eyes and looked at me, anger and warning there. She didn’t like that shit. But no safeword on her lips.

Mistress Seraphim joined me at the table. Her eyes ate up the markings on her slave and her fingers followed them, lightly. The gentle sensation seemed to make her more miserable than the pain had. She whimpered, tears rushing from her eyes now. Seraphim trailed her fingers to her slave’s groin, touching and caressing.

When A started to roll her hips, Seraphim stopped, smearing her own wetness on her face. Fucking degrading. I loved it. Being on the same team with Seraphim was fun. I pinched the girl’s inner thigh, while Seraphim stepped away. I watched the slave as her eyes found Seraphim coming back, with a lit candle.

She made a soft mewling sound, almost a whine. I leaned down to speak directly in her ear, made my voice calm, my words distinct. “Shut the fuck up.” No mercy. “If you can’t shut the fuck up, I’ll gag you.” She moaned again and that was answer enough for me.

I went to Leda, wanting to engage her, wanting her naked. She watched me, but only moved once I extended a hand to her. She stood, smoothing her dress, confusion in her features. I brushed a loose wisp of hair behind her ear, and knelt, so I could reach under her dress.

I stroked my hands up the back of her thighs, found the edge of her panties, yanked the fuck out of them, and was rewarded with a loud rip as they came free.