12. Mina

TWELVE

mina

Electric arousal shoots through me as I suck Brian’s cock, right here out in the broad daylight beside the pool. With an audience. So many things shut down inside me after Japan. So much became numb. There was just the fire of my anger, and the fire between my legs that only Brian could ignite. He became like oxygen to me, my lifeline. And I didn’t care what he did to others so long as he kept touching me the way he did—so long as he kept pulling orgasm after orgasm from my body to prove I was still real, I still existed in this world. And however broken we both were, we were in it together, anchoring each other.

I’ve felt connected to Brian for a long time, but I thought my deepest kinks had died with Jason. I thought that last motherfucker who left scars on me, humiliated me, passed me around to his friends, and abused me in a thousand other subtle ways… I thought it had killed the desire in me that had led me down this dangerous road with men to begin with.

But now, as Brian fucks my mouth, that thing, coiled like a serpent at the base of my spine… It awakens. And it is hungry, hungry to be the good little slut. Hungry to please a master. Hungry to be pleased in return for being such a good girl.

I moan around his rigid cock, and it’s not an act. I’m not pretending like some porn star on a screen. I need him. I’m so wet and throbbing right now that if he did decide to pass me around to the other trainers, I’d probably go for it without complaint. I’m too far gone, too far over the edge to feel anything but lust and need.

A strange mix of power and powerlessness flows through me. I may be on my knees right now, but in so many ways, I own Brian in this moment. He groans, his fingers threading into my hair as he thrusts one final time, releasing down my throat. I greedily swallow him down. I’m shaking now, vibrating with power, with surrender, with need, with so many things I don’t have words for. Everything just… woke. up. And when I get up off my knees, I will never be the same woman again.

That’s saying a lot, considering all I’ve been through and each metamorphosis that has taken place shapeshifting me first into one thing and then something completely different. Right now I feel… unbroken—as though delicate ripped butterfly wings have reknit and mended themselves, becoming something even stronger.

“Good girl,” Brian says, stroking my hair.

He helps me to my feet and kisses me possessively, his tongue invading me as aggressively as his cock. It steals my breath and the last tight-fisted grip of sanity I was clinging onto. It’s the most passion I’ve ever felt from him, the most feelings pouring out of him, into me. And I do my very best to contain them, to hold them.

“I need you,” I gasp into his mouth. “I need your cock inside me.”

He pulls back and studies me for a moment. “But, you already had my cock inside you. Are you telling me the pleasure of my cock ramming down your throat wasn’t enough for you?”

I roll my eyes. “You’re hilarious.”

“Oh, somebody’s in trouble,” he says, but his tone is light as he grabs my hand and drags me away from our audience and to the privacy of our dungeon room.

When we get to our own private space underground away from prying eyes, he orders me to kneel in the center of the room with my legs spread, gaze down, and wait for him. My heart is beating so fast right now. I obey him and wait. I have no idea what’s coming next, but I wait. I kneel on the ground like his pliant doll. Minutes feel like hours, but I wait.

He finally returns.

“Look at me,” he commands.

I look up to see he has one of the house’s chastity belts in his hands. This isn’t your normal, everyday chastity belt. These come with a stainless steel phallus, so that when the belt is on, you are full, constantly reminded of the thick hardness inside you, but without any movement, it drives you more crazy than not having it at all.

My eyes widen when I see what’s in his other hand. The arousal cream. It’s one of the top training tools of the house—the most potent arousal cream anyone has ever experienced. I’m honestly not even sure if it’s legal. It seems to be safe. No one has ever suffered any ill effects, but it’s so powerful, and so much like a drug that it’s hard to believe any regulatory agency would put a stamp of approval on its distribution.

The world isn’t prepared for this much pleasure.

“M-Master? Please… I need…”

“I know what you need. But I’m very large, and I need you prepared and ready for me.”

I feel certain I’m ready now. My wetness drips shamelessly down my thighs, and I’m so aroused even Brian’s cock doesn’t feel like too much. It’s been a while since I experienced him like that, and I was sore for days afterward. Sinking down on his erection rode the hard edge between pleasure and pain, but still, I couldn’t get enough. And as large as what he’s about to stick inside me is, it’s really no comparison for the real thing.

“Stand up,” he orders.

I stand and spread my legs for him so he can smooth the arousal cream on my pussy. He massages a healthy amount into and around my clit, my labia, even dipping inside. It takes about fifteen minutes to take effect, and then I’ll feel like an animal in heat for about an hour, unless he chooses to apply more and torment me longer.

I gasp as he helps me into the chastity belt, and the phallus sinks deeply within me. He locks it with a key from his pocket.

“Go lie down on the bed.”

I do, grateful I’ll be lying down when this cream really hits. I was already so turned on, it seems impossible to me it could get worse, but I know from personal experience that it can.

Brian undresses and gets into the bed beside me, spooning his body around mine. He kisses the side of my throat and strokes every bared inch of me.

I start to moan and whimper and beg when the cream kicks in. “Please, Master. Please, I’ll do anything.”

He only chuckles. We both know he’s the one with the power now. It seems to slide and flow without any effort between the two of us, a true exchange. Not a singular power hand off as it was when he first bought me. Though that was more him taking power, I didn’t exactly flutter with excitement and say: “Here, take all my power away.” Not that I’d had any back then.

His fingertips trail slowly up my thigh, pausing at the chastity belt. Then he presses his hand hard between my legs which shifts the belt the tiniest fraction of an inch, moving the phallus inside me that same tiny amount. He could do this all day and all it would do is drive me crazier. I can’t come this way, and he knows it.

“Master… please…” There is no part of me willing to defy him right now. He holds the power of my next orgasm, and I won’t risk that he’ll torment me like this for days. Maybe he isn’t a cruel sadist with me, but there are different kinds of sadism, and I’m sure Brian can figure out ways to genuinely torture me without harming me.

“You’ve been such a bad girl,” he purrs in my ear, as he strokes me.

“Please,” I whisper. I want to promise I’ll be so much better, but… the truth is, I probably won’t be. And we both know it.

I wish I was one of those rare women who could have an orgasm by her thoughts alone. It would be the one way to override his scheme and get the upper hand. The cream is driving me crazy. All that seems to exist right now is my pussy and the clawing need being created by the combination of the arousal cream and a phallus that refuses to fuck me.

“Shhhh.” He presses kisses over my throat and collar bone.

We lay together in the darkness of the room, him holding me and stroking me, comforting me through the punishment he initiated. Finally the cream wears off, I get used to the feeling of fullness between my legs, and I drift off to sleep.

When I wake from my nap, Brian is unlocking the chastity belt. He smacks me on the ass.

“Go use the bathroom. I have further plans for you.”

Of course he does.

Brian helps me out of the chastity belt. I feel bereft and empty now that nothing fills me, and I hope he fixes that with his cock very soon. Right now I’m completely removed from the woman who killed two men, but I’m also completely removed from the woman who came to the house so broken and fragile.

Instead, now I am what I wanted to become originally when I took the first faltering steps into trying to fulfill my needs and desires, when I went to the first man I wrongly trusted with my body and my heart. The first abusive dom. It’s so beyond fucked up that all the men who parroted “safe, sane, and consensual” were coercive, abusive monsters with me, and yet a real monster, a true killer understands how to handle me in a way I won’t break.

So men know. They understand what they’re doing to you. They just don’t care. Nothing reigns more supreme than the selfish greed for their own orgasm. At any cost.

I’m aware on a certain level that Brian is the very worst sort of man to trust with these things. Sociopath is the most polite word that could be used to describe what this man is. And yet I eagerly open my legs for him every time he demands it, and he has yet to disappoint me.

He guides me to a chair and orders me to sit in it and spread my legs. I do as he asks. The chair faces the large antique full-length mirror in our room. He binds my legs to the chair and my hands behind my back.

“Look at yourself,” he orders.

I look at myself in the mirror.

“No. Look .”

He takes my chin in his hand and directs my gaze downward. “Look at your pussy.”

I’m sitting so close to the mirror, and Brian has turned on all the lights in the room. I’ve never felt this fully exposed, not ever. Not even before Brian and the house. It occurs to me in this moment that I have never once done this. Despite all the twisted kinky games I’ve played with other men, and despite the things Brian and I have done.

Yes, I’ve seen my own pussy. I’ve seen it on video, but this is so much different, so much more intimate. There’s distance with film or with a photograph. Here there is no distance. It’s just the raw physical moment. It’s weird to think you lack intimacy with yourself… the person you’re always with. How can I carry this body around for so long and hide so much from my own experience of myself?

Before Japan, even with Brian, looking at myself so openly like this would have been too uncomfortable. There would have been guilt and especially shame. To just sit and look at myself in this manner would feel obscene. Even with my kinks. Even if Brian had ordered it.

I’m not sure why, but I imagine I’m not alone in this feeling. Society really fucks women up about sex. For a man, looking at his cock is a normal occurrence. He’ll watch it grow hard and stroke himself almost daily because that part of the male anatomy demands to be seen.

But a woman’s pussy? That’s a hidden secret. It’s tucked away inside, a secret even from herself. Legs have to be fully spread to truly get a good look. There is an intimacy a woman must have with herself to even dare to look at her own body in this way.

And now I sit here, obeying Brian, my gaze riveted to the place between my legs for the first time in my entire existence.

Brian strokes my breasts as my gaze remains trained where he ordered it.

“Mina, has anyone ever told you about the flower and the bee?”

“No, Master.”

I don’t dare look at him, but I can hear the smirk in his voice. “It’s a very filthy story. I can’t believe no one ever told you.”

I wonder if I’m about to get Brian’s version of the Birds and the Bees .

He makes me wait for a few moments longer before proceeding. “The flower is bound to the ground. Her sex blooms and unfolds in the sun for anyone and everyone to look at and enjoy. And she waits for the bees to come. The bees touch her sex, lightly flitting over her, pollinating her as she remains still, bound to the earth, open and exposed. Bee after bee comes. Every bee that wants her comes, and still, she remains, receiving all of their attentions without any thought of shame. I assume you know who is the flower and who is the bee in this scenario.”

“Yes, Master,” I gasp as his hand strokes lightly between my legs. I’ve closed my eyes and arched back. He pulls his hand away and smacks my thigh.

“Look at yourself. Watch this happen.”

My gaze goes back to the mirror, to his fingers stroking maddeningly between my legs. After so much build-up, it takes so little time for me to fall over the edge into the abyss of pleasure, my orgasm spiraling out of me, taking my breath and my sanity with it.

I cry out.

“That’s a good girl, scream for me,” Brian hisses in my ear.

He fucks me with his fingers until I have nothing left.

He steps away and goes to our mini-fridge to get me a bottle of water.

“Drink,” he says when he returns. I unscrew the cap and drink the water down.

At first I think he’s done a bait and switch, promising me his cock only to distract me with pleasure to tamp down my desire. I know he’s been putting me off. But he opens a drawer and pulls out four lengths of rope.

“Do you remember how to tie them?”

I nod slowly as I watch him pull his black T-shirt over his head, revealing sleek muscle and more battle scars than any one living man should have.

He unbuttons his pants and slides them off. And now he’s naked, his erection jutting out from his body, once again ready for something warm and wet to consume it.

“Do you think you can handle all this?” he asks, waving his hands over his body like he’s a model in a game show.

“I’m sure I’ll manage. Go lie down on the bed, and spread your arms and legs for me.”

He smirks but goes and does as I ask without being a smartass about it. I rise from the chair and cross to the dresser. I run my fingertips over the coils of rope. It’s softer than one might expect rope to be. I look up at myself in the mirror and take a deep, steadying breath. The last time I tied him up, he was asleep.

I light a few of the candles in the glass containers on the dresser, then I turn and slowly stalk over to Brian, assessing my prey.

I tie his ankles first, testing the ropes to make sure I’m not cutting off his circulation but he also can’t break free. Then I crawl up over his body.

He jerks on the rope to test it when I tie one wrist to the headboard. I wait until I’m on his other wrist, before I yank the rope a little too tight on purpose.

“Fuck, Mina!” he growls.

“Shhhhh, be a good puppy or you won’t get your treat.” My voice is light and sing song.

“You’re playing with fire.”

“So are you,” I purr back.

I rise from the bed and take a good look at him all splayed out for my consumption. He shudders as I lightly graze the length of his cock with my fingertips.

“You’re going to kill me,” he says.

I just laugh. “Why would I do that when we make such a great team? No one can make me come quite like you.”

I return to the dresser and take one of the burning candles from its container. I’m not sure if he’ll go for this. He has history with burns. Cigarette burns his horrible stepmother left on him as a child. I don’t know if he will let me do this, or if he can.

His eyes widen slightly as he comes to understand my intention.

“Mina… What are you doing?” he says, uncertain, suddenly looking very vulnerable. This is the most true vulnerability I’ve seen from him since the first night when he bought me and I walked in on him crying in the shower. The water had run cold and he was just sitting there as it ran over him, sobbing, reduced once again to that small helpless boy. I’d turned the shower off and placed my hand on his shoulder. His hand had covered mine, and we’d stayed together like that for a small eternity.

“I’m giving you a souvenir, marking you. Do you trust me?”

He takes a long slow breath, his eyes lock on mine before finally nodding. “Yes, I trust you.”

I nod and turn on the record player and carefully place the needle, starting Chopin’s Nocturne Number Two before returning to his side. I straddle him, and carefully begin to drip the wax.

He hisses as it hits. I press a finger to his lips. “Shhhhh.”

I lay out the pattern of my design, slowly, waiting for each piece to harden on his sleek stomach before continuing. He jerks each time another drop hits, but he remains surprisingly still.

“Such a good soldier,” I whisper as I finish my project.

I blow out the candle and lay it on the table beside the bed, then I straddle him again, sinking onto his exquisitely formed dick. I ride him slowly. He hisses again as my fingernails score his flesh, as I drag them down his chest.

“You’re here for my pleasure now,” I say.

“I’m always here for your pleasure.”

This response surprises me, but I know it’s always been true with him. Despite our dynamic he’s never selfishly withheld from me.

I ride him harder as my pleasure builds again for a second time. This time when I come, I take him with me, cresting over the wave. He lets out a guttural groan, his hands desperately grabbing for something to hold onto and finding only the ropes that bind him at my mercy.

Temporarily at least. I have to untie him sometime. But after his last words, I feel relatively certain that releasing him won’t result in my untimely death.

I slump on top of him and wait as our breathing returns to normal and he softens inside me. I rise off him. Finally I remove the hardened pieces of wax from his stomach.

After I untie him, I expect he’ll want to regain the upper hand, but his curiosity is too strong. I follow him to the bathroom and stand beside him as he looks in the mirror.

“Now we’re a matching set,” I say, admiring the word “Mine” left in wax burns across his skin.

“This mark won’t last as long as the one I gave you.”

My gaze meets his in the mirror. “It doesn’t matter. I’m inside you, Brian.”

I watch his Adam’s apple as he swallows visibly.

I turn to leave. “I’m going upstairs for lunch. Phyllis made cold chicken pasta today.”