“Yes, I know, dear pet. Why, I have no clue.” Not many Doms or Dommes would understand my need for keeping that sort of distance, but she did. It was the main reason I came to her, and only her.
Removing my shirt, I folded it neatly before placing it on the chair that sat by the open doorway. Without prompting, I stepped up to the wooden X-shaped contraption that stood in the corner of the room. Once in place, Mistress Destri secured my wrists, ensuring the soft leather cuffs weren’t too tight.
“You can always call it off. Find a better way to deal.” Her whispered words tickled my skin with every exhale as her breasts pushed further into my back.
“This is my way to deal,” I responded, unmoving. In reality, it was the only option I had left anymore. Talking about my feelings had done next to nothing for me. If anything, it only caused more problems because I was forced to relive each day I’d spent in hell. No, the only way to help me forget the memories–at least for a little while–was to feel the pain.
“I do love to play with you. But I can’t help to think,” her hand splayed across my chest, “how lovely you would look in subspace, Pet.”
“No.” My words came out strained.
Despite her desire to force me out of my comfort zone, I knew she wouldn’t push the issue because that was one of the rules this place had established. And because of that fact, she would never dare break that rule. Whatever I said was to be taken at face value.
For the first time since I’d found this place, I didn’t feel any sort of disappointment. Mistress Destri’s hand snuck up to my neck, adding a bit of pressure. Instinctively, my head leaned back, hitting the top of hers.
“Light start-up before I take you to your high,” she whispered into my ear.” When we’ve finished here, I’m going to ensure that you’re safe to leave the premises before allowing you to do so. If, at any time, you crash, you are to call me right away. Understood, Pet?”
“Yes, Mistress,” my voice cracked, knowing she wouldn’t back down.
Her mouth crashed down upon mine, Mistress Destri’s way of letting me know our session had begun. Without thinking, I returned her kiss. Though it wasn’t out of desire or need, it was more out of habit. However, it was this particular type of tenderness that forced me to always remember to wear some sort of cock block.
After all, I wasn’t here for pleasure. I was here for anything but that.
Left breathless, she removed her hand from my throat and took a step back. I closed my eyes, listening as her heels clicked across the concrete floor. Less than a minute later, the lightest of touches blazed a trail across my back.
If only she didn’t have to be human,I thought, desperate for the pain I so desperately craved. The pain I deserved. Unfortunately, every time I came here–to her–she refused to skip the foreplay, as she liked to refer to it.
Closing my eyes, I focused on breathing, in and out, as feather-light touches from a whip trailed along my back. After what felt like an eternity, she switched to a different flogger and repeated the same motion. The pain, although still not near close enough to what I needed, slowly began to intensify.
Over and over, the ends of the flogger dragged along my back, just above my pants, which hung a bit lower on my hips than normal. With each new flick of her wrist, the tip would kiss the tender flesh on another area of my body. Some would land just over the top of my shoulders, while others found the sensitive area around my neck.
My breath stuttered when Mistress Destri exchanged her weapon of choice and finally fucking used a flogger that actually caused the sort of pain I was after. The sting that followed didn’t even have time to fade before the next struck my back at a slightly different angle, causing my back to arch into it slightly.
A guttural groan escaped my throat.Yeah––this is it. This is exactly what I needed.
I jerked within the confines of my restraints when a different object was pressed into my skin before being moved down along my back. I moaned, letting my head drop forward. Using my right hand, I held up three fingers. I didn’t want to; I wanted the pain to last forever. After all, physical pain was far better than the mental pain I carried around on a daily basis.
Without a word, Mistress tapped my shoulder with her finger to let me know that she’d seen. Relaxing my hand, I arched back into the next flogger hit. Spots began to dance behind my eyes and before I could stop it, my fingers raised again. Disappointment mixed with relief, swirling deep inside of me.
Breath heaving, my arms were released and I was gently ushered over to the corner where an oversized brown leather chair was situated. Eyes still closed, I collapsed into the soft cushion while trying to will my mind to remain in the present. Unfortunately, I knew it wouldn’t take much to let everything out. And at that moment, I wanted my pathetic life, the memories–everything–I just wanted it all to fucking end already.
A hand softly ran up and down the length of my back following my flogging. The first time I’d experienced the tender caresses it felt a bit odd against the soreness that remained. But now, after months of this type of self-therapy, I’d learned that it was actually the perfect compliment. As odd as it may sound, it helped to keep me grounded. I didn’t constantly fear the tears that threatened to burst free when I felt overwhelmed. I was at ease, the turmoil inside my mind ceasing, even if only temporarily.
“Here.” A water bottle was pushed into my hands and I drank from it greedily without prompting.
The room was quiet, neither of us needing to say a word. That was until I pushed to sit up.
“Ezekiel,” Mistress Destri’s voice was soft, yet commanding, her hand falling from my back to gently cup my cheek. I twisted uncomfortably, causing her hand to drop back to her side. “This way isn’t healthy.”
When I looked up, I was surprised to find worry raging in her normally controlled gaze. In a matter of seconds, the dominating badass I’d come to believe her to be had transformed into more of a concerned friend.
“It’s either this or I do something stupid––more permanent.” My voice was monotone, emotionless.
“Talk to me,” she insisted, knowing full well what I meant. “I’m always here to listen. Despite what you may think, you can’t do this on your own anymore.”
“I’m––”
“No, you aren’t,” she shook her head, cutting me off before I could finish. “Just call me if you ever need to talk. I’m here anytime, day or night.” I gave her a flat look because we both knew I’d never do that. Still, the offer was kind.
