Dark Master (Dark Masters Book 1) Page 3

  I got up and sat on the lip of the tub, rubbing myself with shaving cream. I shaved myself carefully, going over twice until my slick core was smooth and cleaned for him. I was so wet, it was hard to shave my pussy without the razor slipping.

  I thought about putting my fingers inside of myself, but I knew without asking that he wouldn’t want that. I didn’t want to risk going back into that room.

  I put on the dark purple robe he left me and padded out of the room for “our” bedroom. My sex was aching, my heart was both broken and confused, and my mind was screaming for escape. I had no choice but to do what he said.

  The bedroom was dark sheets and dark walls, the carpet beneath my feet creamy white. The bed was humongous. Seeing it made my overcharged emotions skyrocket. I was crying and horny, and it wasn’t good for me to feel either. I knew without asking the dresser on the right was mine from the items on top. Perfume, hair brushes, and my saving grace, deodorant.

  I made myself moisturized, deodorized, perfumed, and clothed, dressing in a new pair of clean black skinny jeans—no panties—and a black lace bra with a white shirt. I combed my hair until it was free of knots and dried it until it was barely damp.

  I felt human again.

  That was the scariest part.

  When I came out, I found him in the kitchen. The TV was on, playing a Seahawks game. It was all so surreal. I stared at him as he chopped fresh fruit and drizzled honey into the bowl of berries, sweetening them.

  “I’m not much of a cook. I’m only doing this now because I know you need to eat. You’ll do the cooking from now on.”

  When I didn’t say anything, he shot me a dark look.

  “Yes, Master.”

  His eyes roamed over me. He gave me another one of those crooked soft smiles. “You’re you again. You look like the nineteen-year-old vixen gazing adoringly at me from her seat. The innocent sweet girl who had no idea who she was lusting after.” As he spoke, he reached down to adjust his pants. I spotted the thickness of his erection in his fist before he moved himself around. “You have an idea now?” He returned to the food.

  I couldn’t stop staring at his cock. I hated how much I wanted it. How much I wanted him to take my body. I was so wet, I felt my excitement dampening my thighs. I should have put panties on. I felt high on him, and all he had done was pour cereal into a bowl and adjust himself.

  “Yes,” I finally answered, my voice thick with desire.

  “And you still want me. You need me. The same way I need you. Don’t you, sweet Miya?”

  I knew in my bones I’d end up begging him soon. I could hardly stand staying still. “I want you, Master.”

  He hummed low in his throat and braced himself against the counter. His eyes closed as he sought self-control. “How badly do you want me?”

  I whimpered, on the cusp of an orgasm, I was so excited. “I want you so bad, Master, I can’t even think straight. I’m not supposed to want this, am I?”

  He bent, eyes clenched and teeth pressed together. “Remember, if you want something, ask.”

  I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t know if it was simply to cum or if it was for him to make me. For him to touch me. If I wanted to leave. Or did I just want him? I settled on the safest choice. “I want to cum.”

  He nodded at the food. “We all want things. Go sit on the couch.”

  I realized my mistake. “No, I meant, may I cum?”

  “Too late. Remember what a question is for next time.” He grabbed up the food in both hands and walked past me, trailing the scent of cigar smoke and softener in his path.

  “Please,” I whined, disgusted with myself.

  This lust was overwhelming me. I needed to think, and I couldn’t do it with my clit aching. My head was fogged over. My mouth was dry.

  I dropped to my knees and bowed my head. “Can I please make myself cum, Master? Please?” I begged.

  His answer came after a long stretch of silence. “You may. Where you are. Take your pants off and open your legs facing me.”

  I wasted no time. I took my jeans off clumsily, not bothering to stand. I pulled them off my ankles and then did what he said, opening my legs for him as I sat on the floor facing him. He sat on the couch, legs open wide, the bulge of his cock straining against his black slacks. His eyes were clouded with burning lust. Dark deep hungry lust. The same look was in my eyes.

  “Your cunt is dripping, it’s so wet. Part your lips for me.”

  My fingers slid around my wet sex. I parted my pussy lips for him, showing him my dripping hole. My pussy clenched and my wetness dripped out, sliding down my ass and dampening the carpet.

  I wanted more orders.

  And he knew it.

  “Have you orgasmed yet?” he asked, his words simply a growl now.

  “No, Master.”

  “All of that wetness for me?”

  “Only for you.” I wanted this, him. My heavy-lidded eyes focused on his.

  “Put two fingers in your tight cunt and get them nice and wet.”

  I slipped them inside of my clenching tightness.

  “Don’t cum,” he warned sharply when my eyes slid shut. “You won’t be able to touch yourself for an entire month if you do.”

  I whimpered, blinking my tears away. They were tears of defeat. Because I’d lived nineteen-years, but I never felt alive. Not until I was on the floor rubbing my pussy in front of Mr. Damon.

  “Put your fingers in your mouth and taste yourself. Yes,” he groaned, when I did, the taste of my want and musk making me tremble. “Do you taste good, baby?”

  “I taste so good, Master. Want to taste?”

  “How sweet of you to share.” He nodded stiffly. “Come here.”

  I almost ran to him. I was near his legs before I could figure out how.

  “Sit here.” He patted the coffee table in front of him. “Same position.”

  I sat on the coffee table between his legs and opened mine wide for my master, so close to coming I had to focus on everything but my aching clit.

  “Put your fingers back into your tight cunt.”

  I did, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood.

  “Bring them to Master.” He opened his mouth for me.

  I put my slick glistening fingers into his mouth. His lips closed around them and sucked. I knew when his eyes closed and he groaned, that we were both screwed. We were made for each other, this sick twisted want we created in the other was only for us. His tongue was hot as it lapped at my fingers. He sucked on me so hard, his teeth bit me.

  “Can you bite me harder?” I whispered, wanting a bite of pain from him. It might help make my lust that much stronger.

  He bit down on my fingers harder, his eyes dark like evil, but so beautiful like our lust. I loved him. I wanted him. I was going to explode.

  “Harder, please, Master.”

  He bit down even harder, sending a blast of pain straight to my pulsing clit. He pulled free and sat back. His breaths were growls. His chest expanded. He was so sexy and lost, I found myself in him.

  “Put those same fingers inside of yourself and fuck yourself until you cum. Hard, Miya. Like it was me inside of you. Even if it hurts, don’t stop. Or I’ll make you sit like this wide open and wanting for a week with no release.”

  I shoved my fingers into my tightness and pumped them in and out of me, so hard it did hurt. My hymen begged to be torn. I fingered my pussy staring into his eyes hard and fast, the way I wanted him to fuck me. I fucked myself hard for him, for me, coming so forcefully my stomach muscles contracted and I slid from the table onto the floor.

  “Don’t stop!” he growled. “Keep going. Harder.” He stroked my hair as I lay across his lap, fingering my pussy as hard as I could with my orgasm weakening me. “Harder, Miya.”

  I tried to give him what he wanted, but my mind started to slip and I fell apart, hurtling into an orgasm so beautiful I no longer felt empty inside.

  I felt whole.

  And dark, dark, dark.


  5.

  I woke up on his lap.

  He stroked my arm as the sound of the game played in the background. I was naked from the waist down curled up on him. I nuzzled my head against his chest and moved to embrace him back, gripping his waist.

  I held him to me tightly.

  “You did wonderful.” He cleared his throat. “You surpassed my every expectation. I’m so proud of you.”

  I smiled drunkenly into his chest. “Thank you.”

  He encircled me in his arms and hugged me securely to him. “I’m sorry I frightened you. But you know what this lust does to me. I lost my mind when class ended and you were gone from me. I had to have you.”

  I felt sated and wanted, loved. It didn’t matter why he did what he did, or why I wanted him to do it again. What was done was done. Even though I’d tried to ignore him during winter break and the start of this new semester, I’d failed. I thought about Mr. Damon endlessly, spending hours masturbating in my apartment to his image, spending weeks not sleeping because his dark eyes plagued my soul.

  I wanted to be here. My fight in the darkness wasn’t against him.

  It was against myself.

  “Go put some panties on, only panties, and then come back out and eat your food. Put your jeans in the hamper beside your dresser.”

  I did what he told me, coming back out in a pair of black lace panties that matched my bra. My pussy was still slick and achy, but I could think around the lust now. I sat beside him on the couch and grabbed the bowl of fruit he’d made me from the end where I’d pushed it in my haste to get on the coffee table for him.

  My empty stomach twisted in pain when the fruit landed.

  “Slowly, please. I don’t want you getting sick.”

  When I was done, he took the bowl and switched it out for the cereal. It was soggy, but I didn’t think either of us cared. I ate slowly, focusing only on him. His erection was as hard as it was earlier, straining against his pants like it wanted me as badly as I wanted it.

  “Can I give you oral sex?” I peered through my now dry hair.

  “No,” he said simply. “I want you completely and undeniably mine before I take my pants off. Once that happens, I’ll take your virginity and once I do, we can finally start to play. You want to play with me, don’t you, my sweet Miya?”

  I found out that Mr. Damon was a sexual dominant on accident. He’d been on his phone during lunch. I’d followed him to the school cafeteria and sat on the fountain above him where he sat outside. He’d been texting a woman who called him Master on her texts, and the underlying message in their conversation made it sound so erotic. Her begging to see him, him giving her rules. I’d never been more jealous in my entire life than I was in that moment, imagining him with another woman.

  I did research, found out his commands were really part of an elaborate kinky lifestyle. The universe opened a door for me to walk through.

  I pretended to be a possible submissive after doing some research on the internet about what a dominant wanted from a submissive. I emailed him and gave him a fake name, and soon, we’d shared hundreds of emails in the first few weeks of this semester alone. I couldn’t stand not seeing him. I had to have him.

  Obviously, he found out who I was. Our naughty emails had created a sinister desire to make good on his hungers. But I wanted to be caught.

  I wanted to be his.

  I wanted to fight my fears to have this.

  “I’d do anything to play with you. Anything,” I promised.

  “You’re still afraid. Perhaps not anything yet.”

  “I’m not afraid anymore.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not faking your fears. You only stopped being afraid once you figured out my intentions hadn’t changed. Until that point, you were terrified.”

  I turned away, biting back my tears.

  “I apologize for doing that. I apologize from the bottom of my soul.” He dropped to his knees and settled between my legs, grabbing my face between his grasp and cradling it softly. “If I trust you, will you accept my apology?”

  I shook my head. “What do you mean?”

  “Once I take your virginity and you’re ready to play, we’ll leave the basement. Go back to school, go back to work. We’ll play in secret. A normal dom/sub relationship. Do you want that with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m giving you my trust. I want a normal relationship with you as well. I don’t request this of my subs, but what I feel for you goes beyond lust. You feel it too, don’t you, baby? How much we belong together?”

  I blinked my tears away and nodded within his grasp. “I feel it every single hour of every day.”

  “You are mine then.” He smiled crookedly, his eyes burning with lust and love. “Come.” He took my hand, leading me back over to the room I’d spent days in. “Shh,” he whispered, when I panicked, pulling on his hand. “I want to show you how much your fears lied to you.”

  He opened the first door and then the second, turning on the light in the dark I’d spent so long lost in.

  I let his hand go and walked into the room. I glared inside. Okay, so maybe I wanted it to be a prison. It was a freaking bedroom. A simple bedroom with a bed on hardwood floors and a chair beside a table with cigar ash inside the ashtray. My pee bottle in the corner made me blush furiously.

  “Was this a role-play thing the entire time?” I demanded. “Breaking me in so I would submit?”

  “It was supposed to be. All a part of our roles. You could desire me, give your confidence through email, but not come out and meet me in person without lying? I was going to tell you the first day, but I was pissed off you were so afraid of me. So, I drug it out.” He gave me a snide look as he shut the light off and left me.

  “I take it back. I don’t forgive you, Jaxon.”

  He whirled around, making me stumble back at the rage in his eyes. “I am your dominant, Miya. You will not call me by my first name again, do you hear me?”

  I cowered in the corner and nodded jerkily. “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t want sorry. He grabbed my arm and yanked me into the living room. He sat on the couch. “Forget breaking you in. Over my knee, now!” he screamed when I didn’t follow orders. I fell over his knee, unsure what to do. We weren’t role-playing anymore, that was for sure. “I’m going to spank you until you’re raw. If you cannot take anymore, and I mean if, you may use your safe word. Do you remember what it was?”

  He palmed my ass roughly, digging his nails into my flesh. I was falling over his lap with my hands keeping me up off the floor. My thighs were on his and my ass was his to do what he pleased with.

  Finally, I was meeting the dominant side of Jaxon Damon.

  This was the reason I was here.

  “Love,” I answered. “My safe word is love.”

  “What is your warning word? The one that says you’re approaching your limits but not there yet?”

  “Calm.”

  “I’m punishing you for calling me by my first name. Do you understand your punishment, Miya?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will spank you until I think you’ve had enough or you use your safe word. Do you understand? This is your one and only lesson. I’m not teaching you this again.”

  “Yes, Master. I understand.”

  In response, his hand yanked my panties into my ass, turning them into a thong. The pressure on my middle and butt made me instantly aware of his touch.

  He spanked me hard on my right cheek. I yelped, unprepared for the sting of his heavy hand on my flesh or the loud smack of our skin crashing together. He spanked me again. I hissed in pain and braced my hands on the floor, supporting my weight. He spanked me again. Within his spanks, there was a spark of lust as well. It turned his hard spanks into dark, dark, dark magic. I took them greedily at first. Wanting it harder and moaning when he gave it to me. The pressure of his heavy hands pushed ever so slightly on my sex from behind. But soon, the repeated spanks on the
same spot became more pain than desire.

  I found myself tensing a second before the pain came. He spanked me only on my right cheek. And he didn’t stop.

  My lust tried to hold on, to find the good in his punishment, but it faded, leaving me in pain. I cried out at one point, wanting to use my safe word. But I could feel his erection pressing into my stomach and knew he loved the pain he was causing me.

  I bit my lip and took my punishment a few more times before it hurt past reason. I cried, wanting him to make me feel good, not bad. A little pain made my pussy ache. A lot of pain made me afraid. And my pussy didn’t respond to fear.

  Neither did my heart.

  But I couldn’t tap out. I would take my punishment.

  I would never call him by Jaxon again.

  I would respect his dominance. I would be his good girl if only to never feel this way again.

  Finally, he stopped. He rubbed my sore ass in gentle circles. “Ice,” he murmured. He grabbed my elbow and pulled me into a standing position from behind. I couldn’t even look at him. It hurt so bad, my body felt weighed down and heavy. I stood there as he got up and left, returning with a gel ice pack and a tube of what looked like lotion. He sat and patted his lap once more, his cock so hard I swore it was going to rip through his slacks. “Put your upper body on the couch this time.”

  I did what he asked immediately. I knew what could happen if I defied him and would try my hardest to never do so again. He iced my ass for a long time. The numbness helped ease a small fraction of the sting. I cried silently into the cushions.

  He warned me when I first emailed him how hard it was to take punishments at first. Being a submissive wasn’t all about orgasms and sexy spanks. Sometimes it was ugly and painful. Of course, I’d disregarded his warning. All I wanted was him.

  I learned a lesson today.

  He rubbed my ass down with a cooling gel-like lotion. Once it was rubbed in good, he applied more ice. He repeated this process for at least another hour. Ice and lotion.

  He pulled my panties back in place. “Go lie on your stomach.”