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She was mine to hurt.
She was mine to keep safe.
What she'd done more than once now where Kie was concerned, was understandable. But not up to her.
I waited to see what she would do now that she'd seen me sitting here. Apparently the same thing had occurred to her and she stopped where she'd been when she first saw me, her head bowed. For several seconds she didn't move, then she slowly looked up at me, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She considered.
I realized I was holding my breath only when my lungs started to hurt.
Then Annie let her breath out in a rush at the same time she sank to her knees, head bowed, hands behind her, ass resting on her heels, toes under her. One of the stress positions she most hated. One of the positions she most struggled with.
I stood and walked to the doorway. Looking back at her, I saw that her head was still bowed, her gaze down. Good.
"Stay that way," I said, and walked out.
The pain room needed preparation. We were upping the stakes.
A prostitute I'd brought back once had allowed me to work her over with canes, to come all over her, and had not necessarily pretended to like what I was doing, but had remained curious through to the end.
When I had come for the third time, when she was already starting to color with bruises, I had relented, sitting on the couch, watching as she began to pull herself together. Abruptly she must have felt she had nothing to lose and asked if she could take a shower and, when I said yes, if I'd join her.
We left the lights off and it was winter. The desert doesn't get particularly cold but it still gets dark early. In the dimness of the bathroom, in the closeted space of the shower stall, she asked questions through the shared and temporary intimacy.
"What makes you want to do it?" she asked. She had beautiful ebony skin and even so I could see the bruises rising.
"What made you submit?" I asked.
"One thousand dollars," she said instantly with no embarrassment.
I laughed at that. "Okay, you win there. For me? It's a drive. It's a need. It's primarily harmless. I've practiced everything I've ever done on life-size models, on watermelons, on –"
But she was laughing and I saw her point. There were classes, though. How to tie a knot. How to swing a single tail. I'd known I needed absolutely mastery of each new thing before I ever inflicted it on a person, but I'd never asked myself the questions she asked me.
I didn't tell her about Emily.
I didn't have to tell her about the empty place inside me where emotion seemed to go to die. And because those two things were closed off and nothing I wanted to discuss, it was that afternoon as it bled into evening that I understood how much of what I really wanted was control. To control other people to the extent that they controlled themselves for me, by following my commands.
And that the rest of it was a need for them to trust me in a way no one did. In a way I didn't even trust myself. Because however many contracts were out there, if the person was mentally healthy and I started to do something they couldn't tolerate, nine of out of ten would run. As they should.
I was looking for the tenth.
Well, the tenth, and forgiveness for letting Emily down. And the Emily types who needed help. I was looking for them, too. Just because I'd take my pound of flesh in exchange for helping didn't mean I wasn't helping.
She'd asked another question I had very little answer for. What I'd done to her that afternoon had been mostly pain. I wanted to hear her scream, and she did, several times. I didn't tell her, but it wasn't as satisfying as it would have been if she were someone from the scene, but I stayed away from others in Southern Nevada. In the Las Vegas valley, I was a force, a member of economic development advisory boards, one of the few ultra rich businessmen trying to stem the wild expansion of the city into outlying bands of beautiful desert.
My rural compound was one reason I wanted Vegas to keep to its boundaries. The fact that it already had severe demands on water, which isn't available in huge quantities in the desert, and the fact that the desert was prettier without man and his concrete fucking up the view was another.
So if I wanted someone who was used to impact play or breath play or something similar, I usually had to travel. It was better not to play where I lived. Because of that I had scenes with beautiful strangers for money. That was all right, but it meant I had to control what I did. Some Dominants like a virgin bottom to mark. I'd rather have someone who knows her limits and be allowed the freedom to hit harder, strike longer.
Among her other questions though, had been one about those people in the scene and those subs who sign on with one Master and stay, either through contract or relationship. What she'd asked, taking humiliation for the example, how did it continue to be effective? “If Submissive Sally”, she started, making me laugh, “Is horrified at the idea of being displayed, if she's pretty much the opposite of an exhibitionist, and part of the thrill for her and for her Master is to be put in positions where she's humiliated by being stripped, or displayed, or forced to disrobe in front of a room of strangers, or to wear something short with no underwear and display herself "accidentally" in public, how long before that pales? How could it continue to be effective?”
It was a good question. Truth was people could build up a tolerance to the exact thing that pushed their buttons, the same as someone who was spanked too often ended up with an impervious leather butt if care wasn't taken.
There are always new ways to humiliate, though. If someone becomes inured to being naked in front of others, then make them beg to have their nipples clamped in front of that audience. Allow the others to touch and examine. Make them wear a butt plug. Put the butt plug in when there are already the others present. All of course only if it pleases the Dom.
There are possibilities as endless as there are submissives to carry them out.
Later that night, after she'd gone - carrying more of a tip than she'd seen me put into the envelope with the cash, but she was blindfolded before the limo drove her back to Vegas - that night I understood that every sub who came to stay with me retained free will whether they knew it or not. Whether I liked it or not. Most of them discovered it when they hit a limit I made them cross and they either broke the scene or lit out after. If they asked, I sent them with a cash settlement and a limo ride like the whore had received.
