“Give me one reason why I should fuck you, other than the fact that I want to hear you scream, I have other methods for that” Kross loosened his grip on your throat. You gasped for air and he turned his head to the side, toward his implements, admiring them. A particularly harsh looking thin cane caught his attention.
“Want me to use that one on you?” He softly spoke into your ear, an odd sense of security in his voice.
“Yes sir, please. Whatever you want.” You whispered, a soft moan coming through as he kissed your neck. He pulled back and released you from his grip. He walked over to the selections. A wide array of toys filled the wall of the room, the dungeon as people called it. It was where your highest pleasures and worst pains were reached, with all the love and consent in the world. Everything done, was agreed upon and Kross, though a sadist, pushed you, but never really passed your limits. He knew you better than you knew yourself.
“Will you be good or will I have to restrain you?” He removed the cane from its post on the wall and played with it in his hands, testing out its sound and sting. You nodded your head slightly.
“Whatever you want, sir. I’m yours.”
“I won’t. This is far from the worst in my collection, I think you’ll even find it pleasing. It leaves some bruises and can cut, but you’ve been through enough in here, that I think you’re ready.” You nodded once more, looking at him with slight fear in your eyes. He grabs one of your hands, looking you directly in the eyes, before swinging the cane at your palm. The sting was bearable though it drew a squeal from your throat. He watched your reaction carefully, judging for signs that he should pick another implement. You looked up and gave him a smile that he returned.
“On the table. You know the pose.”
You laid down on the mahogany, on your stomach, ass in the air, like he always asked of you. He stood over the table and admired the handiwork, his marks from the last session. Most of them were faded but a few bruises and hickeys remained.
You heard a slash through the air as he swung the cane, a sharp pain spread across your bottom as you shook.
“Fuck.” You hissed and he hit you once again.
“First rule of the dungeon?”
“Good” Another lash struck your ass. “Second?”
“No asking for more.”
“Why is that?“
“I should respect Sir’s judgment.”
"Good girl. You’ve retained so well. Do you want more?” He asked. This was a test and you knew it, having fallen for it before. A piece of you wanted to say yes, shuddering at what happened last time you pushed him to give you more or his harshness. He delivered, but it left you unable to sit properly for a good two weeks and it was the first time he actually caused you to bleed. The aftercare was fantastic, but the effects lasted in the best way possible.
Kross struck again, and you could feel the bruises beginning to form. He walked around the front of the table where your head was laid and stroked your hair. He reached for your hands and helped you off of the hard wood of the table and onto the cold tile of the floor where he pushed you on to your knees in front of him.
“Should I fuck you now? Do you think you’ve earned it?” He kneeled to your level, staring into your eyes.
“Yes sir, I believe I have.” He sat back, onto his knees, listening to your plea.
“Why is that?”
“I’ve done all that was asked of me and I’ve taken the hits like you’ve taught me.” He hummed and stood to his full height, towering over your kneeling figure.
“I think you can take more, but I’ll save it,” He unzipped his black slacks and your hands immediately pressed to his thighs. He pulled his dick out and pushed it to your lips.
“Suck.” One word held so much authority and risk behind it, you wanted to disobey just to have the cane at your back again but your conscience decided against it.
You wrapped your lips around him and sucked. You worked just like he had taught you, exactly how he liked it. You swirled your tongue and applied just the right amount of suction to draw delicious grunts from his throat. You could feel him getting close. He cupped your face with a rough hand and began to control the pace. Facefucking you. He pushed all the way into your mouth, forcing you to gag. He moaned as he pushed you off of him.
His hands immediately went to your throat. He pulled you to your feet and pushed you back to an empty stone wall. You gasped.
“You’re such a good girl. I need you.” He spoke, breathless as he placed kisses and bites to your neck. With one hand still firmly pressed to your throat, he used the other to push his pants down and quickly feel your cunt.
“This wet? Ah. You’re such a good masochistic slut.“ He moaned as he positioned himself at your entrance.
"Beg for it.”
“Please sir, fuck me. I need it. I’ve earned it.” You were close to crying for him.
“Sir, please.” You continued to plea as a tear rolled down your cheek. He hummed and you whimpered, clawing at his arm. “Please.”
With that, he pushed into you, forcing your body to the jagged wall. You scratched at his back. His grip increased on your throat, causing a rush of endorphins to flood your body. One of his hands reached under one of your legs, prompting you to wrap around him. You hissed at the friction between your back and the stone but that subsided when Kross moved his hand from your throat to your pussy. You gripped his shoulders for stabilization as he worked you to orgasm. His fingers played with your clit and you couldn’t help but squeal when he thrust deeper into your cunt.
“Sir, I think I’m gonna come.”
“Not yet” He grunted and you whined. His movements slowed, but he still played your sex.
“Why not sir.” You breathed out, tears threatening you fall once more. The pleasure was almost unbearable.
“Because this is my dungeon. You’re mine and I only offered you a fucking.” He sped up his thrusts and you moaned.
“You haven’t earned the chance to orgasm. Maybe later if I permit.” He removed his digits from your sex and continued to fuck you. No promise of orgasm. You were so desperate. You put your head in the nook of his neck and shoulder and worked the best you could on him. He moaned as you left a hickey. His thrusts got sloppier and he released inside of you.
He pulled out of you and gently let you back to the ground. He walked to where his smaller implements were stored and fear rose in you. You were surely going to pay for the mark you left. It was an unspoken rule that you were not to mark him. You watched as he looked through a drawer. He noticed.
“Turn around.” He spoke in a gruff tone that you were too afraid to question. You obliged, turning your body to face the empty wall. You heard him shuffling around with various drawers. He came back to you and you heard a bottle open. He put a hand to your back. Pain from the scratches of the stone was eased by the cold sensation of the lotion
“I didn’t know the wall was that jagged.” He carefully messaged your back and you let out a sigh of relief. You groaned at the loss of his hand when he stepped away, but the longing was soon replaced with fear and excitement as you heard vibrations. Kross laughed lightly, he saw you shiver.
“You’re not off the hook yet.”