Wyte's Club Pt. 01: Dominic

I moan, just a little, just enough for him to ear, and I arch to his touch at the crown of my head. "Yes," I whisper. "Yes, I want to know, Dominic."

He tangles his hand in my hair and tugs my head back while kneeling behind me. "Little girl, I will tell you just enough, but I want you to imagine and wonder at some of it with fear at what I'll subject you to.

"You see, we absolutely will talk our way through everything. We will have to. I want you in total slavery. How would I go about fucking you when you don't like sex? Well, first, I want you in total chastity. I ordered it, you know, a while ago when I first started fantasizing about you. A silver bra with chains up your neck, a belt with a small toy inside your cunt. Don't worry. It won't be large. It won't hurt. It'll be just enough to keep you locked tight. There's matching cuffs for your pretty wrists, ankles, and thighs. All of it with padlocks, of course. But there's one place left open and that's your ass. Tell me, Kitten, have you ever been touched there?"

I hesitate and he licks up my neck so that I moan. "No! No, Dominic, I haven't."

He chuckles under his breath. "I didn't think you had. That's what I want to do to you, Kitten. I want to make you a little anal whore. I don't need you turned on to give you pleasure there. You'll scream the walls down, love. I'll be gentle at first, very gentle. I'll make you love it, and then... Then you won't want me to gentle anymore."

Is this what it's like to be turned on? It's a shadow, just a shiver of pleasure running down my spine. It's nothing like the books describe. It's so much weaker than that, but there's a hint of something there.

Dominic licks me again and sighs. "Ah, sweet girl, you can still feel something. I won't stop there Kitten. You'll drink my piss before I'm done. If I warm you up to me and have my way, of course. And all of that is only the start. You'll be a wanton for me, Kitten. I'll wake up the beast if I have to force it from you. Do you want that? Do you still want to try being my slave? When we get home you'll kneel and I'll fit you with your new metal outfit. We'll start nice and easy, slight rules. But when we get to my house, I am Master. You are slave. I am total, absolute control. Yes?"

I quiver at his touch. My pulse races in my wrist in excitement, the first real excitement I've felt in years. "Yes, Master."

In answer he untwines the rope that wraps around me. It takes him what feels like a much shorter time than it took him to tie me.

Dominic's house is one of my favorite places. I've spent many nights here, playing Xbox with Dominic and trash talking while we both got plastered. His house is decorated much like my brothers is, with fetish furniture and gear decorating the walls and furniture. Like my brother, he lives his sex.

For the first time walking into his house feels forbidding.

He stops me in the very first room and his touch his gentle. "Before you go any further, you wear my collar cuffs and chastity metal for you." He turns me almost romantically in his arms and strokes my hair with a soothing tenderness. "I need you stripped and naked to dress you in your new clothes, love."

Again, my heart races. Of course he does. And of course I've known he would need this eventually. "The mask?" I whisper.

Dominic rubs my shoulders. "You cannot keep it around me for long. I give it to you around other presences, at least for now. Tonight, if you are too terrified, you may keep it. I suggest you don't, however, Kitten. I have seen your face, my love, and you would make this easier on both of us if you take it away now. If you don't it will be tomorrow or the next day at the latest. Your masks are beautiful. They are also tiresome to handle when I wish for freedom of movement between us. When I'm fucking your ass later, for instance..."

I swallow. "Would you leave me to strip myself?"

"No, Kitten."

I nod. "Alright. Mask, too." It comes out calm and I'm proud of myself for that. Inside, I'm quivering in fear.

Dominic kisses my hair. "I'm proud of you, love. Face me."

I turn and he kisses the crown of my head. He massages my shoulders around my dress for a moment, soothing me. But then he reaches up and undoes my hair from its ties. Slowly, he continues to my mask's ties and untwists it while I close my eyes from him. I feel him pull my eyepatch off.

After all that, it feels like nothing when Dominic undoes my stress straps and lets it fall. I'm not wearing underwear or bra and I'm left in my heels before him. He's silent for a moment and I want to scream but I keep breathing, telling myself that he's right. He has seen my face before and he's remained my best friend.

"Look at me. Open your eyes." I force them open, blinking with both useless left eye and terrified right one.

Dominic's expression is so tender. "If I don't do anything else with your enslavement, I will make you love yourself again, dearest."

I know what he's seeing even though I quit looking at it in the mirror before masking myself years ago.

My father used my face as his experiment for extreme body modification. Like I said, some people would want this because it's just their thing. People get horns implanted and spikes in their head. I once saw someone with a massive bullring imbedded beneath the skin of their hand.

My father wanted to turn me into a serpent.

He used branding and scarification over the course of months to create a horrible facsimile of scales on the left side of my face. He took his time with careful, terribly loving cuts and burns. He implanted fangs to my canines and after that moved onto my left eyes. All of this was sporadic and he worked on different parts while other parts healed. But my left eye was the only part he messed up. He'd been tattooing the white of my eye into black and, for the only time, he slipped. Instead of my blue eyes, my left one has a black edges and is milky white with blindness. I'll never forget it. He'd been so distressed and apologetic. He'd treated me like an angel. I was his perfect artwork that he'd marred, the walking canvas with a flaw.

Still, though, it didn't stop him. He was persistent. No serpent or dragon was perfect, of course. He seemed to take a liking to the flaw the more and more he looked at it. So he continued. He shaved and lasered bits of my hair away and inserted metal plaiting that held chains instead. I think he wished me completely shaven and had something like a gorgon in mind but then realized the problems with the plaiting and had to settle for one or two chains in my hair like snakes. He tattooed wicked wings on my back, skeletal and gruesome with the appearance of being ripped from my skin and bleeding gore.

The piercings he placed as decoration. A septum ring, two lip rings, two eyebrow rings. All of them in perfect symmetry and all of them soldered together.

All in all, I'm a mess. An artwork meant to frighten and horrify. It's an amalgamation of Halloween costumes that I can never remove. Oh, I could pay to have some of it taken, I'm sure. But the scarring, for instance... well if I can't have it all repaired then why bother with just bits and pieces. I've spoken with surgeons, a lot of very good ones. There's a lot of risk of doing worse damage to me. I have never given up hope exactly, but when I think of the task of removal, it daunts and saddens me. I'm torn somewhere between believing it a part of me that I shouldn't get rid of and being unable to live with my own appearance.

I do everything I can to keep my gaze steady on Dominic though. It's comforting that he's seen it before and he doesn't react with shock. He merely studies all the details again.

"You are going to look a vision in chastity metal," he finally purrs.

I shiver. He doesn't say it in the detached manner my father looked on me. He says it with promise. He says it with heat and excitement. My bloon quickens a little and he grins.

"Don't worry, Kitten, I'll show you everything in a mirror when I'm done. I think you're going to like it."

With that, he guides me into the center of his living room and ties my arms above my head to a hook in the ceiling.

He ties the ropes loose around my wrists and leaves my legs unfettered. And then he gives me a calming pet down my tattooed back before leaving me there. I hear him go down the hallway to what sounds like his bedroom and then he returns with a large white box.

"How are we doing, love?"

"Good, Dom."

He slaps the insides of my thighs apart. Hard. "Let's start with some of our rules. You will end your responses with the word 'sir' or 'master' from here on out. So, let's try that again. How are you feeling, Kitten?"

I gasp when he slaps my thighs again. "Good, sir!"

He smiles. "Good girl, sweetest. Spread your legs for me. Nice and wide."

He's already slapped them apart a decent bit. I spread them as wide as I can manage. "Yes, sir." It slips out as a sigh and he smiles.

"You're already learning. Always answer my commands. I want them acknowledged, pet. I am going to touch your pussy, Kitten. The belt has a toy with it and I need to give you lubricant, just enough to fit it in place so I don't hurt you. I'm doing it first to get it over with and makes this easier. Your ropes are loose. You should be able to grab them. I want you to breathe for me, yes? Stay calm."

"Yes, sir." I blink in confusion for a moment. He seems more nervous about this than I am. Have I given the impression of a traumatized girl? It isn't quite that I panic. I just don't indulge in sex because I can't become aroused by it. It doesn't necessarily bother me...

I don't watch him for it, though. I don't know why but the thought of Dominic feeling how little I respond to intimacy embarrasses me. He shocks me though. He puts on latex gloves first and all I feel is a clinical massage of lubricating gel into and on my sex. There's no arousal of my own that I can notice. But it doesn't and Dominic is so very gentle. After a moment I realize that I'm gripping the ropes like he suggested and I let them go, relaxing to his touch.

"There... Very good girl. I'm proud of you, Kitten." He delicately lifts the metal belt out of the box and lubricates the toy on it. Like he promised, it isn't so very big at all. It's more like a set of metal beads, each larger than the last but even the largest one at the base of the belt isn't overly large. "One last little bit of torment, I promise." I close my eyes again and feel him settle the edge of the toy against the entrance of my sex...

He pushes it slowly inside and I gasp at the sudden sensation. It isn't painful at all. There's a small pinch of unpleasant sensation but then there's just the feel of the metal balls settling one at a time inside of me until finally, finally the metal of the belt is pressed firm against my skin and the balls are settled inside of me.

"Oh my god..."

Dominic laughs and sets to work adjusting the metal belt to my size. "Fucking good, right?"

"Oh my god!"

Dominic slaps my ass and tightens the belt snug and high on my waist. "I've given you exactly one rule Kitten. What was that rule?"

"To answer you properly, sir!"

"Much better, sweet girl. I know you're feeling a bit more than usual at the moment. But obey me, Kitten. Follow my rules. Now, speak to me. How does the belt feel? I need your descriptions. Physical pleasure at all? Answer me while I fix the bra and the rest of your new lovely outfit."

The bra as it turns out is shining silver underlined with black as well. It's a perfect match. And it doesn't stop there. Dominic goes ahead and pulls out chains and a collar and cuffs of all sizes. All of them matching.

"The belt feels fine, sir. Not physical pleasure though, no. Not exactly, sir."

He laughs and adjusts the small silver bra, the metal perfectly cupping to my small stature. Chains attach to the top center of the bra and wrap around my neck, a metal mimic of a dress that ties around the neck from the center of the chest. "What kind of pleasure then, Kitten?"

I close my eyes while he fastens and adjusts a collar around my neck. "Mental. Psychological. Sensual. I don't know. I'm sorry, sir. I don't... I don't know."

He pets me gently and starts to fit me with the cuffs. My thighs, my wrists, and my ankles all get matching, shiny cuffs. "It's alright. I believe I do know, sweetness. I believe I know and I believe we will get along well together." After all of it is snapped and fastened, he pulls out a small packet of tiny silver padlocks. With a small series of clicks up my body, he nestles me comfortably in my new metal prison and I quiver in excitement.

Dominic does exactly what he did at the club when he's done. He sits on a chair in front of me, a safe distance away, and leaves me tethered before him. I'm beginning to recognize this as his version of regaining control. His eyes are bright and excited. Too much of both shine there, along with too much hunger. It's like a call that I want and crave. I want to be near that spark in his eyes, I want more of it, I want to please and sat it, I want him to sate whatever feelings are awakening in myself with it.

I pull on my ropes and struggle in my new metal, but neither are forgiving in the slightest and Dominic has the keys to both. But he's even less forgiving than either.

"Breathe, Kitten."

I close my eyes and whimper but inhale a deep breath through my nostrils and exhale it from my mouth. It helps. "What is this, sir?" Still, my voice is breathy, needy.

"Anticipation. A craving to be used as well, if I had to hazard a guess."

Used. Was that the best word? It certainly felt like it. Yes, after a thought, I imagined that's exactly what it was. He had described how he wanted to turn me into an anal slut. Before I had just been thinking of it as a solution to my sexual problem. But now it seems a lot more than that. Everyone else loved normal sex and a lot disliked anal sex. A sadomasochistic belt at the hands of a master like Dominic could be to lock away the slave's pleasure so that they were only taken in the raw painful way to be used. If the slave hated having her ass fucked, so much the hotter and better.

Oh, how I burn with these thoughts. My blood has reached a simmer and I pull at my chains some more. "Used, yes, sir."

"Do you want me to use you tonight? It will hurt, Kitten. I had been planning on waiting and training your ass up but..." He shifts in his jeans and there is no possible way to not notice the outline of his hard cock there.

I moan. "Please. Please! Sir, now, please."

He chuckles darkly. "Think of a safe word first, Kitten."

That's easy. My brother own BDSM clubs. "Mercy, sir. Mercy is my safe word."

Dominic smiles. "Mercy it is, my love. I believed I promised to show you what you look like, didn't I? And you need to be cleaned first."

I moan again, this time in distress. I have an idea what he means and it isn't a bath. "Please," I whimper again. "Sir, please."

This time it's a perfect, submissive little plea and Dominic smiles in dark delight. No longer just a beg for more, but a polite little whimper for his mercy as well. In answer he stands from his controlled distance and closes the gap again. He threads his hands on either side of my hair, carefully avoiding the chains in my hair and pulling hard so that my mouth opens in a gasp.

He slants his mouth across mine with full advantage and terrifying intensity and I know in an instant I've passed up my chance to cool off and let either of us regain control. I go up in flames with his passion and all I can do is grab the ropes that bind my wrists and hold on tight, whimpering into his mouth with every kiss, every lick, and every bite.

Mercy from this man? Hah! He's the devil's lead tormentor.

He's so very caring for a tormentor. He guides me to his huge, ornate bathroom and closes the door. I've always loved Dominic's house. For a lot of reasons but one is that he spares little in the ways of luxury. He has a whirlpool bathtub and a walk in shower in his bathroom, along with a walk in closet so big he doesn't even use all of it. On the opposite side of all this is a vanity setup like an old movie. A mirror stands from floor to ceiling behind it.

Dominic pulls me in front of it, standing behind me. I'm so small compared to him, even smaller out of my heels and dress and mask. I don't focus on any details for a moment, too afraid. But Dominic demands.

"Look, new slave."

I force myself to focus in answer to that and the sight in the mirror makes me shiver.

Dominic has taken my disfigurement and adorned it in silver and black. Instead of masking it in those colors as I have always done, he's made it shine.

The snakelike appearance is striking and not quite so bad as I always remember it. The scars are deep lines of detailed scales, pale scars made dark with burning. My eye is a vision that demands the attention and rather piercing, if I do say so myself. The chains are odd, it's true, but symmetrical like my piercings. I smile and my fangs are almost cute.

But it's all set out by the black and silver that encases me. A shiny metallic bra and thong like belt. There's not even a sign that a toy is attached and buried inside of me. The thigh cuffs and collar and wrist and ankle cuffs are all set off every bit as bold and striking as my face. The chains that form a neck tie of sorts have a lovely set off to the ones in my hair. I turn around and view the tattoo on my back curiously. It's partially covered by the silver bra but the top that looks as if the gruesome wings are being ripped from me show.

Like he promised, I am a vision. A leashed dragon, cuffed and collared. Once I've looked it's almost hard to stop. It's been so long since I studied myself. It's little to do with vanity and more to do with fascination at what I've been hiding. It looks wonderful encased in metal slavery.

I don't even pay attention to Dominic until he returns to stand behind me from his work at the medicine cabinets. I meet his gaze in the mirror in wonder.

"Speak to me, dearest. How are we holding up?"

My voice is small. "You said you would still let me wear the mask out, sir?"

He smiles wryly. "That's a question, but I'll take it as an answer of sorts. Yes. For now."

But there's a promise in his voice. For now, but not forever. Perhaps not even for much longer. I turn my gaze away from his. "Thank you, Dominic."

He gently massages my shoulders. "You're welcome, love." He leans his head down to rest on my shoulder and whispers, "Ask me what I'm going to do to you, Kitten."

His eyes spark with mischief and I reach up to thread my fingers in his hair. "What are you going to do to me, sir?"

He closes his eyes when I fist his hair and tug. His voice comes out a soft growl. "I'm going to paddle you, Kitten. Don't bother counting them. I'm going to keep going until you're in the headspace we both need you to be in. And then I'm going to clean your ass with an enema. If you behave I will give you privacy with which to release it and finish cleaning yourself. If you behave. Otherwise, Kitten, the humiliation pleasure is all mine. I suggest you be obedient. What is the only rule you have so far?"

My breath catches. I knew from the start that was what he meant by cleaning me. And yet, hearing him say it makes it somehow closer, more real and final. "To answer you properly, sir."

"Good girl. Very good, so far. You're next rule is that in my care I am master and you are slave. It is an absolute and there are no breaks for you. You will give me total obedience at all times and without hesitating. Unless you safeword, of course. What is your safeword, Kitten?"

"Mercy, sir,"I answer easily now. It's soothing that he makes it clear what he expects. I like how easy that makes it. I like knowing the absolute way to please him.