Chapter Eight

Crack! Crack!

“Holy yebat”!” Zafira’s cry of shocked surprise and pain at the unexpected strikes on her bottom immediately quieted her loud protest at being ignored.

Instinct warned her it wasn’t her chosen Dom whose hand planted the punishment on her ass. The same dark voice from earlier crawled over her skin, causing it to shrivel with a frisson of fear... or was it perhaps expectation?

This was the kind of Dom she avoided because a strong, powerful Dominant like him would see right through the fa?ade and reach inside her soul to rip apart the shackles she had built over time. The need to be freed from being the strong one and the formidable Matriarch that everyone expected her to be all the time drove her to this club every month. She hoped that there might be one Dom who saw past the brat and freed the woman desperate to break free—the one who had disappeared at the same time Bogdan Rusu had walked away from her and left her to marry his best friend. She had managed to survive all the years because he had returned a year later and had been there—her shadow, her comfort... her heart—until he left again.

That was why she came here... to forget about him while she yearned to find the one Dominant who could awaken the woman Zafira Guzun used to be.

Maybe she had just found him.

“If there is one thing I abhor in my club, it’s a sub using a Dom for her own entertainment. Dom Sergei is a gentle giant who only wants to bring the submissive he scenes with pleasure and release. You know that, yet you ridicule him for not rising up to the game you’re playing. That, my dear sub, is blatant disrespect.” The Dom’s voice dipping an octave lower sounded ominous but strangely familiar. Another attempt to look over her shoulder was thwarted by another loud crack of his palm across her ass. “Keep still... unless it’s your intention to anger me even more.”

“My apologies, Master, but I’ve met the owner of the club, and it’s not you,” she managed to grind through her teeth as soon as the pain settled in her mind.

“You met one. I am the other,” he said grimly. “I recently returned from an overseas trip, and since I’m the Master on dungeon duty, it’ll be my pleasure to correct your attitude.”

“I agreed to a scene with Master Sergei, not you, Sir.” Zafira knew what his answer would be since the club rules and protocols had to be acknowledged and agreed to every time a member booked a visit online.

“Master Slayer to you, subbie. It doesn’t matter whether you agreed to a scene with me. As a Master owner and being on dungeon duty, it’s my responsibility to handle punishment. You do recall the club’s rules and protocols in regard to misconduct toward other members and specifically to Doms during scenes, right?”

“Yes, Master Slayer.” Zafira didn’t believe she was a masochist, except on an emotional level, no matter what her attitude portrayed when she scened at the club. Yes, she knew she chose the wrong dominants, then kept pushing them.

Zafira Guzun, the Comare of the Guzun Bratva, needed an outlet. One nobody would expect since it was something she never did, not even when her husband had passed away. She desperately needed to cry... hard, loud sobs to release the pain and desolation she had been struggling with since Bogdan Rusu had deserted her a year ago. That he had unexpectedly returned, taken her home from the hospital, then continued to ignore her existence hurt more than she ever imagined it would.

It also confirmed what she feared the most... her foolish heart still yearned for the love they had shared for such a brief period so many years ago.

“First, this will have to come off.”

“No! It’s one of my boundaries,” she protested as he unzipped the dress and ripped off the panties she wore under the leather and lace dress.

“A boundary I am surprised no Dom has bothered to push. Be it as it may, it’s more important for me to see your skin while I whip you. Even though this will be a punishment, I won’t be happy if I cut or bruise your skin in the process because it’s covered by a piece of black satin.”

Zafira had already realized this was a Master she wouldn’t be able to manipulate. She had heard the whispers about Master Slayer and how the masochists missed his presence at the club.

Slayer? Zafira’s body turned to stone. Bogdan was known as the slayer of the Guzun Bratva. What were the odds that there were two men in Moldova with the same moniker?

This one is a Dom, Zafira. Have you forgotten what Bogdan thought of you submitting to Viktor?

The question from her inner mind silenced her concern. There was no way this Master was Bogdan. He had never shown any interest in the lifestyle. In fact, he had seemed disgusted with how Viktor had dominated her while at home. More than that, he would never punish her, not even in a scenario such as this. He was too used to following orders. Bogdan would never tell her what to do.

“What the fuck is that?” Zafira’s head jerked at the sound of metal balls connecting when Master Slayer swung what looked to be a chain ball flogger just within her peripheral vision.

“From your reaction, I assume you haven’t been introduced to a chain ball flogger before?”

“No, and by the sound of it, I don’t believe I want to, either.”

“Hmm, unfortunately, it’s not up to you.” A thrill of excitement spread over Zafira’s body as the warmth of his breath caressed her cheeks. She could feel his hard body brushing against her back. “Did you or did you not insult a Dom from this establishment in full view of its members?”

The warning in his voice was unmistakable. Her punishment was about to begin. The natural submissive knew she deserved what was about to happen. She nodded with sagging shoulders.

“You acknowledge that you are aware of club protocol and that your action requires punishment as decreed by us?” This time, there was no denying the anger in his voice. Evidently, Master Slayer hated bratty subs who topped from the bottom.

Clank! Clank! Clank!

The sound of the metal balls was ominous, causing her to flinch when he snapped the flogger in the air.

Oh, blyad’! This is going to hurt like fuck. A shudder started at the base of her spine and traveled all the way to her nape. The whipping Dom Sergei had given her would be child’s play to what she was about to receive.

“Yes, Master Slayer, I am,” she said miserably, knowing if she wanted to be allowed to return to the club, she had no other option but to accept this punishment.

“Even though this is punishment, I expect you to use your safe word if it becomes too much for you. However, I do expect you to endeavor to suffer as much as you can. Is that understood, subbie?”

Zafira nodded again, trembling with fear of the punishment she’d brought upon herself. At the same time, she hoped it would bring her the release she had been searching for... in the form of tears.

“The only time I will accept a nod from a sub in this club is when they’re gagged. Are you wearing a ball gag, subbie?”

“No, Master Slayer,” Zafira bit out through thin lips. This Dom was becoming very pushy, and her natural brat was hovering very close to jumping off the cliff again.

“Then you will use your voice when spoken to.” He pressed his massive chest against her back, proving that he was much taller than her since she was standing on the cross. Her libido stirred to life. “Since you begged so nicely for the kind of scene that will make you cry, it’s exactly what I am going to give you. Beware, subbie, this is going to hurt like a motherfucker, so if you want me to stop, no amount of pleading or screaming is going to help. The only word that will end your punishment before I deem it over is the word ‘red.’ Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Twenty lashes.”

Zafira prepared herself when the hard body stepped away and took his heat with him. His warning had been clear, so she expected it to hurt. Mentally, she was prepared, but she had no idea what to expect physically. She had never truly participated in harsh impact tool play. This was going to be more than a lesson. It was going to unhinge her mind.

“Sub,” Dom Sergei’s soft, cajoling tone drew her gaze to him where he stood by her side. His eyes smoldered with the warmth and understanding that wrapped her soul in benevolence, that assuaged her fears.

“Thank you, Dom Sergei,” she said with a tight smile. He was a very nice man and popular with all the submissives. Her disrespect toward him now felt petty and wrong. “I’m sorry,” she offered.

“You should be, and even though I feel you’re being sincere, I’m afraid your punishment is going to be so much worse than anything you came looking for.” His voice lowered. “You wanted to cry, subbie. Prepare to sob your eyes out. Master Slayer has no mercy or time for disrespectful subs.”

Zafira barely registered the swish of the flogger when the most excruciating pain seared through her body.

“Aaawww! Fuck!”

Bogdan waited, noticing how her nostrils flared as she attempted to breathe through the pain. Her eyes were tightly squeezed shut.

Clank! Clank!

Another lash impacted hard, causing her to snort air through her nose as a scream of pain exploded from her lips.

“Here we go, subbie. Let me hear you cry.” He brought the lashes down in a blur of quick snaps of his wrist.

Her screams sounded blunt and filled with horror as they echoed through the dungeon. With every strike from the metal flogger, her body slammed back against the cross, her whimpers pitiful.

Bogdan’s lips flattened as he witnessed the signs of pain chiseled into her tormented face. As a sadist, he enjoyed giving and experiencing the joy of the pain that harsh punishment offered, but he always limited his actions to the experience of the masochists or subs.

When it came to impact tools, he preferred to use them in an erotic, sadistic scene. At least that way, he could push the sub harder and farther, offering her an out-of-body experience through the addition of controlled pain. With Zafira, he acknowledged that he was acting out of anger. Not because of her unruly action toward Dom Sergei but in remembrance of her chasing him away when all he wanted was to declare his love. With a sigh that signaled discord for his own unacceptable behavior, he reduced the impact of the strikes.

Zafira was close to giving in to the threatening black void that hovered at the edge of her consciousness. It was there in the tautness of her shoulders, the way her face contorted—he had witnessed the signs more than enough to identify her wavering control. That wasn’t what he wanted.

Zafira Guzun needed to cry, and the sadist in him wanted to watch the tears roll over her cheeks.

“Isus Hristos!” she screamed as the metal balls struck painfully inside the velvety folds of her labia. The first lone tear rolled over her cheek.

“Ah, beautiful,” Bogdan praised as he aimed the next strike at the swollen nub of her clitoris.

“Blyad’!” The curse burst forth in a garbled shriek as tears now coursed unchecked down her cheeks. Deep sobs shuddered through her body, followed by a low wail that slammed against the walls. “Red!”

Bogdan stopped flogging her immediately, then smiled when her body trembled and twisted as the sudden loss of pain triggered an orgasm to race through her. Her breathing was harsh as she struggled to catch her breath while sobs still tore through her.

“Easy, subbie,” he purred in her ear as his hand on the small of her back gentled her shivering body and calmed her down.

“No! I need... this is too much... sob... I need... please, Master Slayer. I need...”

Bogdan’s body turned to stone. He knew what was coming. Since this was punishment, he shouldn’t accommodate her, but he did anyway.

“You need what, subbie?”

“Fuck me, Master Slayer. Please fuck me!”

“I sincerely doubt that swollen and tender pussy of yours could handle the pounding I’d give you, subbie, so—”

“Just fuck me! Now, Master Slayer.”

Bogdan could’ve just done as she demanded, but the beast in his soul prodded him to torture her a little more. To see just how far gone she was. How desperate she was to find the full release her body and mind craved. He circled her and caught her chin in his hand, forcing her eyes to him. The disbelief in Zafira’s eyes flashed for long moments as her breathing turned choppy and shallow with shock.

“So, subbie... now that you know exactly who I am, do you still want me to fuck you?” Bogdan prepared himself for another tongue lashing... to once again be chased away with his tail between his legs.

“Yes, Master Slayer,” she surprised him by saying in a clear, confident voice. “Fuck me now!”

He was behind her without remembering he had moved. Without preamble or preparing her for his huge ten-inch cock, he slid his turgid length balls deep inside her.

Her scream echoed throughout the dungeon, causing a flash of pleasure to race through Bogdan. His jaw turned rigid as she climaxed upon entry. Her muscles gripped him so hard, he winced. It was as if she had been created just for him, fitting him like a custom-made glove.

“Still breathing, subbie?” he said with his voice soaked in amusement.

“Who needs air,” she wailed. “Just fuck me.”

Bogdan drew his cock back, plowed into her again, and lost it as she shattered once again. This time, he didn’t stop but powered into her, his hips driving like a jackhammer. Slow was not an option; he didn’t even try. He didn’t care whether she was ready for more as he started the deep and brutal rhythm. He fucked her so hard, so deep, he slammed her into the wooden cross with every thrust into her.

“Holy fuck!” Bogdan was blinded by lust, by the need to find quick release. He lost control over the rush of need as explosions of pleasure ripped through him, obliterating the world around him.

“Blyad’! Yes,” he grunted as his release ejaculated inside her with such force that his knees buckled. His fingers dug painfully into her hips, and still in a daze, he knew that she would be bruised from the tight grip. It didn’t matter, not when a high, desperate wail escaped her lips as she came once again, this time so hard that every muscle of her cunt tightened and pulsed around him.

Bogdan desperately dragged air into his lungs, forcing his body to calm down. He was overwhelmed by the sense of belonging that rushed through him. More so, the feeling of ownership that ripped every ounce of despair from his soul. Nothing could bring him down from feeling ten feet tall.

Zafira Guzun had just made a huge mistake. She was his now.

His voice sounded strained but was as dark as the devil churning inside him when he said against her ear, “You belong to me now, Zafira. Remember that. Offer what is mine to another, and he’s a dead man.”