To Command And Collar

attendant talking to a buyer and frowning in his direction. Not long.

He tossed the cane off to one side and picked up the whip. A dragon’s tail-not his favorite but a good choice in tight quarters. About three feet of rolled leather opening into a swordlike shape and ending in the distinctive point. At least the leather on this was thin enough to give a whippy sensation. After rolling his shoulders, loosening his arm, he snapped the tail a few times, getting the feel, gauging his accuracy, smiling each time she flinched at the light crack. Hell of a lot lighter than a flogger-he could do this all day.

Then he let the end strike, enjoying the slapping sound, up and down her back, her ass, her upper thighs, finishing the warm-up in the medium range of pain. He moved into a good rhythm, watching her start to fog over. Her breathing deepened as he slowed his strikes.

He stopped and stepped forward quickly so the loss of the whip was balanced by his hand on her shoulder, the pressure of his body against her back. Rubbing his chest and groin on her reddened skin should give her a rush of pain from everywhere, different from the individual slaps of a whip. Her gasp felt as if it gripped his balls.

After checking her restraints and circulation, he turned her head, looked into her eyes. “You still with me here, Linda?”

She blinked and actually smiled at him. “That’s my name. You used my name.”

This one could tear a man’s heart right out of his chest. “That’s who you are. Linda.” He kissed her cheek and brought her back to the scene by taking her lips, taking her from lightness to hard and demanding. Her body melted into his, then revved with arousal when he cupped her breasts and teased her puckered nipples into jutting points- velvet softness, the bigger size said she’d nursed her babies. He wanted his mouth on them.

Instead, he ran his hand down to her pussy, beautifully wet and puffy. Her instinctive pulling away from the intimacy rubbed her soft ass right on his cock, forcing her forward again and onto his fingers. A nice predicament for a little sub.

But he solved it for her, removing her choices by leaning forward, trapping her even as he penetrated her with a finger. Hot, wet sheath.

He felt how her arousal, her need, vied with her wish to move away from him, to keep herself hidden from him. She made a sound he couldn’t interpret, then whispered, “No. Don’t.” Her words were negated by the low moan she gave.

“Are you asking for mercy, girl?” he whispered, pinching her clit lightly and sliding back in.

Panting, she hesitated. “Yes.” She shook her head. “No.”

“Then we continue. You ready for some real pain now?”

Her cunt clenched around his fingers, and he grinned.

After picking up the dragon whip, he did a set, up and down her body, bringing her pain level back to where she’d been before. Then he held the tip of the tail in his free hand and snapped it at her ass like a rolled towel. The end hit. Her skin jumped a split second before her jerk. A sob came from her, and he smiled.

“Not the same sensation, is it, missy?” Snap, snap, snap. “Feel a little like a whip?” Snap, snap, snap. Her first tear splattered onto the floor, then more. The dragon’s tail flicked its way down the backs of her thighs in pretty red streaks, the narrow leather giving barely satisfying cracks.

And up her legs, her ass, her back. Her first gasping scream.

“That’s a good girl. Give me more.” After easing up for a moment, not too long, he worked her into pain, into screams that satisfied his soul and squeezed his cock. By the time she tipped into a truly deep subspace, she’d stopped holding anything from him.

Her husky scream resonated in his balls.

He continued a little longer, watching closely now. A safe word wasn’t worth shit if a sub’s brain wasn’t awake enough to use it. He lightened up, finishing what they’d both wanted. Needed. Then even slower, gentling the strikes. Bringing her down.

Sweat made her skin gleam as if covered in oil. Her head sagged against her upraised arm although her legs still held most of her weight. Yes, she was no stranger to bondage and pain. He set the whip down and moved forward, feeling like a predator stalking his prey but also a man wanting to please a woman. Sadistic. Dominant.

He ran his hands over her, pleased with his handiwork, even more pleased with her gasp as his thick calluses scraped her abused skin. Her ass pushed back as if begging. He straightened and turned her head. Still mostly in subspace. Aroused and needy.

Damned if he’d fuck her here, treat her like that, but he could at least ease her, give her relief. And if he walked around with a boner for a while, it wouldn’t be the first or last time. He bit her neck, reminding her of his presence, emotionally ground-tying her so she didn’t detach entirely.

“You gave me your pain.” His voice came out raspy. “Now give me your pleasure.” His rough fondling of her breasts brought forth a moan, and when he reached down to her swollen, wet pussy, she was right with him. Her body showed her need; her eyes showed her submission.

Surrounding her with his body, reading the tightening of her muscles, hearing the faint noises in her throat, he stroked over her engorged clit, working her up and up. Was there anything more satisfying than moans after screams? He kept her on the edge, savoring the quivers of her inner thighs around his big wrist, then stroked firmly.

When she came-her hips bucking, her pussy creaming over his hand-her wailing moan ran down his spine.

He leaned against her curvy back and her lush ass, pressing her into the cross as he nuzzled her neck, adding sweetness to the ending.

* * * *

Don’t look at the cage in the corner. Don’t look at Lord Greville. Kim stared at her knees, controlling her breathing. Controlling the panic was like piloting a boat in a tropical storm, trying to keep the bow headed into the seas. The counselor’s suggestion of imagining Greville with a rabbit-sized dick, whiskers, and a fuzzy tail didn’t help at all.

The men talked. Lord Greville had a voice like his whip, cutting and ripping, leaving bloody flesh behind.

The Overseer’s voice was an oil film on water, suffocating all life beneath. Her chest tightened.

When Master R spoke, the sound washed her clean, let her breathe. His knee pressed against her shoulder, bumping her now and then as if to keep her in the present. Her shoulders straightened. Pay attention. He’ll need your help.

“You’d said that buying damaged merchandise might have been a mistake, so this is your opportunity to find a slave more suited to your needs,” the Overseer said, still trying to arbitrate.

“I see. I did complain about the damage, didn’t I?” Master R sounded so reasonable, they probably didn’t hear the tight thread of anger underlying his words. “You’re offering to buy me a different slave?” She felt the vibration as his fingers tapped on her leash. “I wouldn’t mind owning one with a curvier figure. Big breasts appeal to me.”

What? After a moment of fear-then a sense of insult-she understood he was stalling for time. He could do no less, although all she wanted was out of here. The sickly sweet scent of Lord Greville’s cologne filled the air, and she breathed through her mouth, trying not to gag. The sounds of screaming came faintly past the closed door. The auction was going on.

“Well then, we should be able to work something out.” The Overseer sounded relieved.

“Perhaps. Unfortunately, the slaves here are masochists-not anything I’m interested in. What other auctions do you have coming up?”

“I-Well, the next will be in October. The black-and-white affair, featuring blondes and brunettes, with a sampling of black women as well.”

“I definitely like blondes. That might work out quite well.” Master R rose. “In October then. And Greville there will buy whatever slave I wish in return for the girl.”

The leash tightened; Kim started to rise.

“Unacceptable. I’ll take possession of her now.” Lord Greville’s voice was flat.

“Leave me without a slave? I think not. October.”

“I’ll buy her outright then. How much?”