4. Seth

SETH

I slamthe door harder than I mean too. My breath is heavy in my chest as I pant.

What the hell was that? How dare she cut me out of her life then make a spectacle out of herself? Doesn't she know that a Dom at the club only wants her body? Her temporary submission? It's selfish attention. Not the real kind.

Not the kind I could give her. Desperately want to give her.

I turn around and jump at the sight of Penny on her knees before me, her eyes on the ground in front of my feet.

I stare at her. Penny is called so for her hair, the silky copper coif she keeps in a desperately tight ponytail that can be used for pulling or can be released into cascading coils.

Penny is beautiful. A good sub.

But not the one I want. Not today. Not ever.

I gnaw the inside of my cheek as I look at her. "Are your limits as usual today?"

"Yes, Master."

"What is your safe word for today?"

"The color scheme works for me, Master. So, yellow to pause and red to stop."

I nod.I always check their limits and their safe words. Since we are both unattached, but don't scene together often, it is a good reminder for me, and a way to see if anything changed since last time.

If I had any say in it, I wouldn't be unattached.

Because the thing I long the most for is to be in a committed relationship. I crave to have my sub. Someone who only bends to my will, not to anyone else's.

And my body and soul crave only her. My sweet forbidden fruit. The bane of my existence.

So, I'll have to settle for Penny for now.

I look at the wall which is laden with a variety of toys and tools. I grab a flogger off the wall, the leather strands dripping just like Penny's ponytail.

My eyes scan the room.

What should I do with her?

Lay her down on the spanking horse?. Doesn't feel right. Or exciting. I turn back to the wall and put the flogger back, before reaching for a set of silky restraints. Could be fun to tie her up. Tie her down. Overstimulate with a toy. Make her beg so nicely.

Except, imagining her moans and her begging sounds nauseating.

I came here today because I can't focus. Again. My mind has been all Bridget all the time. From the second she told me I couldn't speak to her, all I've wanted is to speak to her, and now I've broken her rule.

The one rule she ever set. Her hard limit.

Fucking hell, what kind of Dom am I?

Ignoring the restraints, I blindly reach for the flogger and stand before her. I place the tip of it under her chin, bidding her to look me in the eye.

Penny does so. Her brown eyes would be inviting to anyone.

To me, they just feel wrong.

"On the horse."

Penny nods, her head back down and goes to the spanking horse in the corner of the room.

As she stands, my eyes take in her attire today…delicate teddy that parts right below her breasts and scrapes the ground as she stands.

I dare not look any lower for fear of my stomach turning on me completely. It sickens me as it turns me on because it's Bridget. Not just because it's her design. It exudes who Bridget is and that only muddles my brain further.

But undressing her feels wrong. Her naked form might be perfect to another man. To me, it's just a hollow counterfeit of the one I really want.

Penny lays herself prone on the spanking horse, and it does absolutely nothing for me.

Maybe if I go through the motions, I will get into it.

I clip her wrists in, then her ankle.

"Good girl." The words burn my tongue on the way out as each action I take brings me further away from what is happening. From me.

Who is this person? Where am I?

I grip the flogger in my hand and pass it over her backside, clothed with a thin layer of mesh. I could say I'm teasing her. Making her yearn for my touch.

Truth is, I'm just buying time. Because I don't want to do this. Not with her.

I pull my arm back and swat her backside once. Twice.

I stare at her ass.

I feel nothing. Nothing at all.

Maybe if I keep trying…

Again, I wind my arm up, decided to do right by the sub. Just because I feel hollow, doesn't mean I won't try to make it worth it for her.

"Red," Penny announces.

I drop my arm, frowning but relieved, the flogger hitting the outside of my leg. "Are you alright?"

I hurry to release her restraints.

As soon as she is free, she sits up on the bench, looking at me before lowering her eyes again. "I'm sorry, Master Carlton."

"Is everything okay?"

Her eyes fleet to mine again before she nods. "It's just that… I'm not comfortable going on with you like this." She is twisting her hands. "You don't seem like you want to be here. It's like your head is miles away."

I raise my eyebrows. "Is it that obvious?"

Penny smiles and gets to her feet, her head down and her hands holding each other in front of her. Still the perfect submissive. "Please forgive me, Master Carlton, but perhaps we can do this another time."

"I'll compensate you for your time," I say.

Penny shakes her head. "That's not necessary, Master. But thank you."

It's a fruitless argument. I'll see to it that she gets something as an apology at least. "You are free to go, then. Thank you, Penny."

Penny gives a single nod, then disappears through the door back into the atrium of the Underground.

I lock the door behind her and take in the empty room.

Except it's not empty. Not when my imagination is running so wild.

It's the same as always.

Bridget, Bridget, Bridget.

Bridget in my arms, Bridget on her knees. Bridget on my cock.

I take the flogger, wind it back, and with all my might, hit the bare spanking horse.

"Fuck!" I yell. Thank god the rooms are soundproof.

The leather on leather lends the air a raw smack. It would sound so much better on skin. On her skin.

I try to even my breath as I stare at the table.

What if…

No, I couldn't think about that. It's bad enough I've had fantasies about Bridget since I met her. I can't imagine her now. In the one place I've always gone to get away from fantasies of her.

It's too late.

I can see it. Clear as day.

Her, bent over the spanking horse, wearing that damn outfit Penny was in. The thin fabric covering her alabaster ass. She's already pale enough in the face, lord knows her ass must be white as a canvas. Even better for spanking. I'd get to see every bit of redness. Every welt.

I'd paint the best work of art yet.

Fuck, I'm hard.

I resituate the flogger in my hand and give the bench another smack.

I imagine her under the leather, body balking and bracing. Arms locked in restraints. The sounds she'd make.

She wouldn't call me Seth. She'd call me Sir.

"You like that, pet?" I say softly as if she's in the room with me. It's foolish. But I have to let it out.

"Yes, Sir."

I blink. It's like she's right here in the room with me. Her dark hair falling to the side over the table, her face turned to the side, her expression wanton.

Chest heaving. Breasts smushed against the leather, threatening to spill out of their cups.

No, fuck it. This is my fantasy. She'd be naked.

"Do you want me to do it again?"

"Yes, Sir."

I do.

The funishment I wasn't able to hand Penny comes effortlessly now.

I release a thrall of slaps with the flogger.

My cock grows harder with each one.

I don't care how pathetic it is, me alone, playing out my deepest, darkest fantasy. To dominate the one woman I can never have.

The woman the world deems forbidden to me just because our parents decided to marry each other.

It doesn't matter that we were already in our teens. It doesn't matter that we never even knew ourselves before then. It doesn't matter that we never considered the other a sibling. Everyone insists on seeing her as my sister. My stepsister.

It doesn't help that we've been taking family pictures for years, having family dinners, talking about family plans.

This fixation I have for her, this yearning, this craving, it's sick and disgusting in the eyes of society.

And with every day that passes, with every look her way, I just want her all the more.

Why do I always end up wanting what I can't have? It used to be for my dad to come back to life. Then I met Bridget, and my impossible desire became all her.

I want to hear her begging.

So, the Bridget of my imagination begins to beg.

"Please, Sir. More, Sir. I want all of it, Sir."

I exchange the flogger for a crop.

I'd take it slow with her. I doubt she's ever been disciplined like this. And with her fair skin, I'd never use a whip or a cane.

I trace the empty table with the crop.

Oh, how I'd tease her…slide it between the cheeks of her ass, down to her pussy, shove it up against her clit.

I wonder what she sounds like when she comes. When she's desperate to come.

The crop takes less work to flick. I could pepper her ass with red welts in thirty seconds, cover the area with my marks. Brand her mine.

And how I imagine she'd buck. And plead. And moan.

That fuck Dom couldn't give that to her.

No Dom other than me can give it to her. Not like she deserves it.

Why doesn't she understand all my efforts of control have only ever been because I want to please her? I want to be the only one to–

My imagination conjures the possibility she'll forget herself. Won't call me Sir. Will sing out my name with rough and curdled desperation.

The crop falls from my hand.

I am weak all over.

And my cock is aching for release.

I drop my hands onto the table, press my cock up against the edge through my pants and I rut hard, as if it was Bridget. If she was right there to take every inch of me, to accept that I am the one. The true master of her mind and her body.

"Fuck, Bridget. Fuck." I drop my head.

Don't care how ridiculous or how crazy I seem. I need her. Even the imagined version.

I'd make her come first. I'd last.

I'm thankful in my fantasy, I can make her come first regardless of how long I'm fucking her because I'm about to burst.

I'm about to–

"Haaaaohmygod." The sound I release is unearthly, something I never knew I had in me.

I release a deluge of come straight into my boxer shorts, the wetness reminding me of just how alone I am.

I can't enjoy the high.

I just pretended to fuck my stepsister. Pretended.

I'm so fucking pathetic.

Bridget might have been right to stop talking to me.