Ray Ch. 01: Control

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Ray learns Mistress Natalia will not be denied.
6.7k words
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Part 1 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 04/26/2018
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He peeled off his black shirt, pulled it over his head then dropped it onto the tile floor. He pulled his badge off his belt, then his gun, setting both down on the counter next to his sink. Off came the beige pants, left in a heap on the floor. It was time to wash away the vanilla day that had left his skin tainted, as it often did.

The mirror was already steaming up when he stepped into the shower. He poured soap over a washcloth then began lathering up his body. Up his arms, covering the colorful serpent tattoos adorning them. One for each friend he had lost. Then over his core, hiding the names of his parents who had been taken from him too soon. Down his legs, strong and sculpted from the miles he ran each morning to clear his head. Lastly, the suds covered his cage and dripped down the date written in black ink on his inner thigh.

Today was the day. He didn't know how he would be allowed release, or if it would be a true release or a ruined one. All he knew was one way or another, the ache between his legs that had been steadily increasing for the past month would disappear for at least a little while. Then he would be locked up again, the date pushed back another four weeks.

Forty minutes later the sight of the towering trees made his prisoner start pushing against the bars of its cage. He pulled up to the south gate, often called the Slave Gate, and punched his number into the keypad. The iron bars slowly began to swing open, revealing the back of Château de Fierté. He pulled inside then parked underneath an ivy covered pergola.

He stepped out of his car and rocked his head back, inhaling the scent of fresh fallen rain on the cobblestone path. The château stood before him in all its intimidating splendor. Two stories, painted grey with crisp, white trim. The victorian style mansion called to him as it always did. No matter where he chose to live, this was home.

Two doors stood out on the back of the mansion. He headed towards the one in the far right corner. It was the only one a community slave was allowed to enter through unless accompanied by a domme. He typed his number into the keypad on the door then pulled it open when the green light flashed.

Before the door had clicked shut behind him he was already stripping out of his clothes. He wasn't allowed to wear them here. He folded them and placed them on one of the shelves lining the room then knelt down on the floor. There he stayed, waiting to hear the sound of footsteps coming to get him. Sometimes he waited minutes, sometimes hours. But he was a slave, and he had learned patience long ago. He inhaled deeply then released his breath, letting all the falsehoods he maintained in the vanilla world out with it. Here he didn't have to pretend, and he wouldn't.

They started from far away, all the way down the hallway. Then closer, and closer, until they were right outside. When the door swung open she looked down at him, a scowl covering her face.

"Eyes on the floor, Slave!" she shrieked, then pursed her painted red lips together.

He averted his gaze and clenched his jaw, his arousal plummeting at the sight of the inexperienced domme. He watched the silver key sway from a chain around her neck as she bent forward to lock his collar on him. The metal always felt cool against his skin, and today it felt even colder.

She snapped a leash to the collar then jerked on it. "You can crawl, Slave."

He followed closely on his hands and knees, the metal digging into his neck every time she playfully swung the leash around with her hand. Her black heels echoed down the hallway. He imagined she was purposefully accentuating the noise. Her curveless body couldn't possibly be causing so much natural concussion.

She turned left into a smaller dungeon then opened one of the cabinets. "Open. Now," she commanded, holding a butt plug to his lips.

He opened his mouth and she shoved it inside.

"I'm going to stick that in your ass shortly," she informed him.

He had already figured that much, but maybe it would be distracting enough to drown out her voice.

She pushed her hands underneath the short blonde hair at her neck then undid the clasp on the necklace. "Today may be your release day, but you better not come without permission or I'll push your day back eight weeks. Got it?"

Even though his sac was heavy with the weight of repeated denial, he doubted maintaining control would be difficult in her presence.

"Are you being disrespectful, Slave?" she questioned, putting her hands on her hips and tapping the toe of her black stiletto against the hardwood. "You answer when I ask you a question!"

He raised his eyebrows and looked up from the floor at her bobbing head. He pushed the plug halfway out of his mouth with his tongue to remind her of its presence then sucked it back in.

Her mouth tightened, her foot tapping more furiously. She reached forward, ripping the plug out from his lips. "Bend over," she hissed.

He held his seated position just long enough for her to recognize the only control she had was the control he was humoring her with. Then he assumed the position requested, flinching when the plug was shoved unceremoniously in place.

Her hand came down hard against his backside, her laugh sounding in his ears. "Good bitch."

He tensed, his anger burning through his chest. Today was supposed to be his release day, but now he would deny himself. He would never risk his place in the community over an immature, amateur domme, but he would not allow her the satisfaction of topping him. He would continue to behave as was required, but he would not come for her. Even if it meant another thirty days would pass before he was given another opportunity for release, he would gladly withstand the ache.

"Sit up, Slave," she demanded. "You don't get to come without permission. Understand?"

He had been a slave for three years and was well trained to adhere to the golden rule. But he sat up and for the thousandth time confirmed it. "Yes, Mistress."

She bent down, her hair tickling against his skin as she unlocked the cage and pulled it off. She poked at him, laughing. "Is that all there is? I hope it's a grower 'cause it's definitely not a show-er."

He had no concerns about the size of his manhood. Given how often he was uncaged and used for a domme's pleasure before being relocked without release, he knew his length was not only satisfactory but also in high demand. If she wanted to humiliate him there were much more appealing ways of doing so. The insult, however, would be beneficial to his current cause. So he sat still, unmoved by her attempts to emasculate him.

Her hands prodded at him, poking and stroking, attempting to bring him to life. "Nobody likes a tiny dick, and they damn sure don't like a soft, tiny dick. You should be punished for it being so pathetic!"

He had spent his twenties in the marines, and the seven years since in the police force. His slave training only added to the self control he'd spent his entire life mastering. She could tease and touch all she wanted, there would be no movement.

"Bend over!" she said, grabbing his hair and shoving his head to the floor. "Let's see how many times I have to spank you to get you hard."

Her hand came down on him, the sting shooting through his backside. He wondered how many swats she could manage before her arm got tired. He didn't consider himself a pain slut, but at the moment he found her attempts more amusing than painful.

The sound of the door creaking open brought his attention away from the irritation in his lower half.

"Hello, Mistress Elsa." The familiar voice made his muscles tense.

"Mistress Natalia," the domme behind him spoke, her tone flat as she brought her hand down on him once more.

Heels tapped lightly across the hardwood, his heart pounding harder with each sound until one finally struck the floor right next to his head.

"I'm so glad I could be here on such a special occasion, Officer Ray," her voice whispered in his ear.

His sac clenched when he heard the term of endearment only she ever used.

"Do you mind if I watch, Mistress Elsa?" she asked, taking a few steps away from him.

"Only watch, Mistress Natalia." The warning was clear, then her hand lit up his skin again.

"Only watch," she acquiesced, feigned innocence sounding in her voice. But the innocence disappeared in a second, her hazel eyes shining like gold when they found his.

Mistress Elsa's hand reached underneath him, then she sighed. "I didn't know you were impotent, Slave, or I would've chosen someone else."

"I'm sorry, Mistress," he replied, wondering if she would give up.

"He's not impotent," Mistress Natalia's voice cut in. "He's just stubborn."

"He hasn't been allowed to come for a month," Mistress Elsa argued. "No man is that stubborn. He just can't get it up."

"Maybe you need to use more invasive measures," Mistress Natalia said, her smile returning.

"You're right," Mistress Elsa said, then quickly turned and headed towards the far left cabinet. "Get on the bench, Slave."

His eyes stayed on Mistress Natalia as he bent over the bench and placed his arms and legs on the side rests. She didn't direct his gaze to the floor like most of the dommes at the château. He knew she used her body as an instrument of torture, every part of it from her silvery blonde hair to her white-tipped nails. She grabbed a chair and placed it a few feet from where his head rested. When she sat down her short red dress ran almost all the way up her thighs. He followed the sight, disappointed when she crossed her legs.

"I'm going to fuck you 'til you come, Slave," Mistress Elsa's voice sounded behind him, shattering his reverie. She walked around the bench, buckling the straps over him until he was sufficiently secured.

"You must have an incredible amount of stamina. Much more than I possess," Mistress Natalia commented from her seat.

"What are you talking about? It's a strap-on cock. Indefinitely hard, remember?" Mistress Elsa patronized.

Mistress Natalia tilted her head to the right slightly, her thumb pressing down against her fingers one by one until they had each popped loudly in the quiet dungeon. "I meant in your legs. It can take quite a bit of time to get a man to come that way without any other stimulation, especially such a stubborn one. But I can't wait to witness such a feat and will applaud your success."

He heard the sound of a tapping foot behind him and pressed his face into the bench to hide his smile.

"You're right," Mistress Elsa finally spoke, her foot pausing. "And why should I exhaust myself over a worthless slave? I have a much better idea."

He heard the squeaking tires of the cart as it rolled up behind him. The plug was pulled out, and it wasn't long before two fingers full of cool lube slipped into him. They shoved repeatedly inside him, roughly scissoring through him. He clenched down against the intrusion, his body rejecting the discomfort.

"You're just making this harder on yourself," Mistress Elsa scolded. Another finger slipped into him, stretching him without relief.

The squeak of the cart rolling closer was followed by the feel of a large object being pushed inside him, its size bringing on a fullness he hadn't been expecting.

"I wonder how long you'll last..." Mistress Elsa mused.

A button clicked on, making him flinch, then the machine went to work. It penetrated him without hesitation, without any concern or deviation from the medium speed she had set it on. He sucked in his breath, willing his mind to take back control of his body. The machine could milk him, but he would not submit.

Mistress Natalia shifted on the chair in front of him. Her movement brought his eyes to the red leather straps crisscrossing over the tops of her feet before winding around her ankle. Then skin, smooth and bare, pale and flawless with the exception of a stray beauty mark here and there. He imagined circling the dark flaws with his tongue as he had done several times before.

A cold sensation brought his attention back to the machine violating him without mercy. An abundance of lube had been released, the excess dripping out of him and down his sac to the floor. He could feel his body caving, hardening against his will. But he couldn't stop it any more than he could stop his mind from imagining what Mistress Natalia's crossed legs were hiding from him. When she spread her legs before him it furthered the suspicion he often had that she could read his mind. His eyes followed her hand as it ran over her folds, his tongue pushing out past his lips when she presented her glistening palm to him.

"Please," he mouthed silently, pulling against the straps.

She shook her head, bringing her hand down once again. Her fingers disappeared inside herself momentarily then pulled out. When she held them up they were slick, her need shining on them under the soft light.

"I see you're enjoying the scene, Mistress Natalia," Mistress Elsa interrupted, breaking his trance.

"What's not to enjoy?" she replied.

"This is taking forever," Mistress Elsa complained, "but at least he's hard now."

The right corner of Mistress Natalia's lips turned up slightly, her head once again tilting to the side. "Maybe if you made him more comfortable it would speed things up."

"He's a slave. It's my job to make him uncomfortable," Mistress Elsa replied, the sound of her foot tapping drowning out the sound of the machine.

The incessant tap was helping him regain focus, and he fought against his body for control. Mistress Natalia's teasing may have brought him to life, but there would be no redemption for Mistress Elsa. He could maintain for hours and she was already losing patience. Hopefully soon she would also lose interest.

Mistress Elsa sighed, her irritation exaggerating the sound. "How would you make him more comfortable?"

"There's pillows in the cabinet over there," Mistress Natalia said sweetly, gesturing towards the far side of the room.

"A pillow?" Mistress Elsa questioned, then he could hear her stomping away from him.

The control he'd been regaining dissipated when Mistress Natalia leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear. "You're so stubborn, Officer Ray." Her fingers ran over his lips, her scent haunting him. The cabinet behind him slammed shut and she quickly sat back in her seat.

"Head up, Slave," Mistress Elsa demanded, holding the white pillow in front of his face.

"Oh," Mistress Natalia cut in, trying to hide behind her innocent smile, "I didn't mean for his head."

Mistress Elsa caught on before he did, and it wasn't until she was unbuckling the straps over his back and hips that he realized where the pillow was going to go.

"Up," Mistress Elsa commanded.

He raised up slightly and she shoved the pillow underneath him, then adjusted his length so it pointed towards his stomach before he lowered himself down onto the cushion. Then she took a few steps back and crossed her arms over her chest.

The machine continued its torment, pouring out more lube without breaking consistency. But now it slid through him more efficiently, caressing the areas he'd needed it to avoid. He would soon be milked dry and locked up for another month. But it didn't matter. A forced milking wasn't the same as a climax brought on by need and desire. No matter how Mistress Elsa would try to justify it, it would represent a complete failure on her part, and he would be glad to provide her with that humiliation.

A hint of red caught his attention again, bringing his eyes back to where Mistress Natalia sat. "So stubborn," she mouthed to him, her lips parting just enough to show her teeth. Then her legs parted as well, the folds between them almost perfectly parallel to his eyes. She had been tormenting him several times a week, building him up to this day, and it had been taken from her. But he would make it up to her somehow if she would only close her legs and allow him this one victory.

Her hand moved to where his eyes rested, playing over herself the way his fingers often did. He moved slightly, pretending she may not notice. The soft fabric caressed the underside of his length. It wasn't as poor a substitute for the warmth of a woman as he had expected, or maybe it was just his desperation tricking his mind. He moved again, shifting his hips over it.

Her fingers disappeared between her folds, reappearing slick and wet a second later. His hips reacted involuntarily to the visual, or maybe it was voluntary. He didn't know. He never knew when it came to her. He ground himself into the pillow as much as his restraints would allow, the motion changing the rhythm of the machine as it continued its assault.

Her fingers followed his lead, caressing and thrusting, her need soaking the chair beneath where she played. He rubbed harder, thrusting and bucking over the pillow, imagining it was her soft skin beneath him. He'd never been allowed inside her, though in his mind he had been a thousand times or more.

He could smell her scent from where he was bound. His tongue pushed out from behind his lips, a feeble attempt to taste the air. The memory of her taste was enough to make him grind harder. The soft fabric of the pillow mimicked how her clothing always felt when he was allowed the privilege of rubbing against her. "Please, Mistress, please let me come!"

He thought he heard a word spoken behind him, but the only directive he followed was the silent "yes" Mistress Natalia's mouth spoke to him.

He pressed down into the pillow as hard as he could, pounding into it with all his strength. It had been so long the shock of the climax made him cry out, his body not used to being allowed to lose control. The tremors rushed over him again and again, and his seed seemed to burn as it poured out of him.

"This is bullshit!" Mistress Elsa's voice cut through the residual buzzing in his ears.

He glanced at her face, instantly registering the frown he saw settled on it. Perhaps she had figured out she had lost not one battle but two.

"I'll let you deal with the clean-up, Mistress Natalia," Mistress Elsa spat. "And I'll be taking this up with Madame Lexi."

He heard the sound of heels stomping away from him, then the creak of a door as it swung open followed by the bang of it slamming shut. The machine continued to drive into him though it caused only dry heaves, his body now drained down to nothing.

Mistress Natalia got up from her chair and ran her fingertips down his back and legs as she made her way to the machine. The penetration stopped, then came the hollow feeling as the toy was removed and the machine rolled away. She circled him, unbuckling the restraints on his arms and ankles.

"Kneel," she said, breaking the silence.

He shakily got to his knees, the lack of the dull ache more noticeable than the ache itself.

Her fingers wrapped around the dark hair at his scalp, pulling his head back so he would meet her gaze. "You should know by now no matter how stubborn you are, I will break you every time."

"Yes, Mistress," he replied.

She placed the pillow on the floor in front of his knees. "You have quite a big mess to clean up, Officer Ray."

"Yes, Mistress."

******************

Natalie stepped on the brake of her red Mercedes then knelt her head back against the seat. Traffic was at a standstill, and she still had a few more red lights to fight her way through before she could weave her way down the backroads the rest of the way to work. She cracked her window, letting the cold breeze wake her up a little more. When Volbeat began coming through her speakers she reached forward and turned up the sound, singing along to the heavy music.

"Hey!" The yell came from her left.

She ignored it, focusing on the music until it interrupted her again.

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