‘*I can’t believe it. He’s pushed me to my limit.’*
That thought kept running in my head. My heart was beating fast, faster than it ever had. With every pulse, with every moment, I was fighting to control myself. No one had ever pushed me so hard before or brought me this close to losing control.
My eyes were closed and I was working hard to keep my breath steady. My hands were tightly gripped on a guard rail. The music, as always, was loud and thumping, coming from the lower floor. From where I was standing on the second level, it was still loud, but at least it wasn’t deafening. I knew that if I looked down, a mass of people would be dancing, drinking and doing all kinds of sexual acts across the couches, chairs and beds surrounding the dance floor.
Behind me, well… That’s where the real fun was happening.
And that’s why I had my back turned to it. I needed a minute to get my composure back. Lust was coursing through my veins like I had never felt before. Normally it was a controlled rush, like being on a rollercoaster. It’s fun and crazy, but it’s also completely predictable.
But not today. Today it was a firestorm ravaging my body. The white leather chaps I was wearing felt too tight. Sweat was running down my back. My cock was rock hard and throbbing, desperately needing someone to please me. I was doing everything I could to contain it, but I was having little luck. And it was all because…
“Hey! Are you seriously just going to stand there? Damn you, it was getting hot and heavy, then you just walk away and leave me hanging?” A voice shouted behind me.
Damien. The man’s voice was deep and strong without being overly rough. It caressed my ears, teasing, sending a pleasant chill down my spine and feeding the fires of lust.He was the subject of my predicament. I forced myself to not move, to not turn around. I wasn’t able to completely suppress the shivers his voice caused.
No one had ever done that for me before. I was another step closer to the edge. All I wanted to do was throw away my chains of self-control and throw myself at him.
“I know you heard me. I saw you twitch. What’s wrong, am I too much for the great ‘Master’ Arlen Belze?” Damien’s voice was taunting.
And that taunt, that insinuation that I would fail, was a bucket of cold water. It wasn’t nearly enough to stop the inferno consuming my body, but it slowed it enough to clear my head. To remember who I was and what I did.
I, Arlen Belze, was the Master of this fine establishment of pleasure. And Damien Rivera was a client. An extraordinary, beautiful and unique person, to be sure. But first and foremost, he was my client, and while I stood in my kingdom of lust, I would not fail in satisfying him.
One deep breath, two hands releasing the guard rail, three heartbeats and four steps to turn around.
There, not ten feet away, was a BDSM cross. On it was tied the most amazing specimen of a man I’d ever seen. Fully naked for the whole establishment to enjoy, of course.
He was almost a foot taller than me, almost seven feet tall. His face was lean and sharp, with cheekbones only slightly rounder than a knifes edge. His lips were a little on the pale side of red, but they were full, firm and smiling ever so slightly. His eyes were a bright green that sparkled with life and mischief. His hair, a ruffled mess right now, was brown and just long enough to touch his shoulders. Said shoulders were strong and muscular with matching arms, chest and legs.
The only thing he didn’t have was a six pack, but honestly, I never got the appeal. All it really meant was that a person was ten pounds away from starving. And that wasn’t sexy.
“ *Au contraire*, Mr. Rivera. Your impatience shows you don’t know the value of anticipation. The wait, the longing, the uncertainty. It’s all part of the game,” I finally answered. “But I see that’s clearly wasted on you…and I aim to please,” I smiled and walked towards him.
Our eyes stayed locked together while I slowly crossed the small distance between us. I didn’t acknowledge his penis, hard and swollen, twitching with desire. Nor did I acknowledge his whole body straining against the bindings on his wrists and ankles. I did, on the other hand, break eye contact to look at the angry scratch marks on his shoulders, the red and purple of a hickey at the base of his neck.
I was close enough to feel his breath on my shoulder. He was at a slight forward angle on the cross, and it reduced the height he had on me. I looked back at his face, saw him opening his mouth to say something. The time for talking was done.
He never got to voice whatever taunt or jeer he was thinking. I firmly wrapped my right hand around his throat. I squeezed just enough to make breathing slightly difficult. His mouth closed. His eyes widened. I wasn’t smiling anymore.
I leaned in, our cheeks almost touching and breathed out on his left shoulder. The scratch marks I’d inflicted on him were still fresh, probably stinging, and my hot breath had probably made it worse. I saw his whole body shudder and I felt the vibrations, a groan of pleasure in his throat, in my hand.
Now for the main course. I leaned back and kept the pressure constant with my right hand. I brought my left hand up and traced the patterns of his hurt flesh with my index. The feeling of his hot and abused skin against the tip of my finger was delicious. Clearly Damien agreed. He was trying to get closer, to get more skin on skin contact. But I carefully denied him, keeping my hand away, with only the one finger being the point of contact.
With a slight shift in angle, instead of skin on skin, my nail now pressed against his flesh, I hesitated a second before moving and was rewarded. He tensed, expecting the pain, but when it didn’t come, his shoulder relaxed ever so slightly. That’s when I brought my hand down from the curve of his shoulder, down across his chest and stopped at his sternum.
He hissed in pain and surprise. A singular red line, raised angry flesh, was created from the motion. Painful and visible, but not permanently damaging. I noticed that down below, his cock was twitching intensely, the stimulus clearly turning on my client.
I looked back up to his face. He was staring intently at me. I raise an eyebrow with a slight tilt of my head. I didn’t have to voice the question.
“More, fuck, give me more,” He said, voice raspy.
I released his throat and took a step back, crossing my arms.
“Damn it… stop teasing me like this,” He panted for a moment. I waited. I’d told him the rules and he’d consented. “Fuck, why aren’t you….” I saw in his eyes the moment he realised why I stopped. “I’m sorry, Master. Please, sir, don’t stop,” He begged.
Good. He hadn’t forgotten proper respect. Then I moved forward, right hand on his throat, pushing just hard enough to make breathing uncomfortable. I wrapped my left hand around his abused left shoulder, feeling the heat, sweat and skin. He gasped at the sensation, either in pain or pleasure, probably both.
The firestorm of lust, of pure wanting I felt this whole time raged hotter and hotter with everything I did. But it didn’t matter anymore. I was in full control now, no matter what happened. By the end, I would break him, subjugate him and make him understand who The Master truly was.
I trailed my hand along the newest red line. When I got to the end, I slid my hand over and took his hard nipple between thumb and finger. A small sharp twist of my wrist and Damien gasped, tensing in pleasure and pain. His masochism turned me on even more. I squeezed harder and got a moaning growl from him.
I let go, waited until I saw the slight relaxation in his shoulders, then pinched and twisted in the other direction. It caught him by surprise. Perfect. I had total control, but he didn’t know that yet. Not yet, but soon.
Finally, I left the hard nub I’d been abusing behind. I trailed the tip of my fingers down his chest but suddenly and quickly reversed course, scraping my nails against his skin going back up. Damien’s back arched. His throat strained against my hand and rumbled with a groan. Then I let my fingertips slide over him downwards again, lower this time, only to come back up sharply, not as high up as the first. I was leaving a trail of angry, beautiful marks while I made my way to his dick.
Finally, after repeating the up and down pattern multiple times, I grasped his penis. Damien was covered in sweat, breathing hard, eyes glazed over, simply enjoying all the sensations. His cock was so hard I could feel all the veins pulsing, every nerve twitching. I licked my lips while he wasn’t paying attention, savouring the thought of what I was about to do to him.
This was a give and take relationship, and I had been doing a whole lot of giving. It was time for Damien to actively give some back. Now I waited with one hand on his throat and another around his cock, I didn’t move.
It took more than a minute for Damien to regain focus. His breathing changed, became calmer, steady and slow. His posture, as little as he could control it, changed slightly. His eyes focused on me. They burned with an intense desire that was only contained by his physical restraints. I felt a similar desire, but mine was held back by the restraints in my mind.
My eyes locked onto his. We stared at each other for a moment, until he broke away to look down. He stared at my hand wrapped around his dick, then looked back up frowning. He thrust his hips once in my hand, a tentative gesture, meaning to ask if I was going to please him.
“Do it yourself if you want it so much,” I said simply.
For a few seconds, what felt like eternity for Damien, I’m sure, he just stared at me, incredulous and frustrated. I’d been setting the pace this whole time, giving him everything.
Now it was all on him.
His jaw clenched, lips almost snarling. His mouth opened to tell me something. Maybe to tell me to fuck off or maybe to beg for pleasure. I didn’t let him. I squeezed harder on his throat for a second while slowly letting go of his dick. His eyes widened. Maybe he understood I would honestly back off.
His dick was held loosely in my hand and I waited a few more seconds. I looked into Damien’s eyes and saw the conflict. His want for more pleasure fighting against his refusal to submit completely. My fingers twitched, almost completely letting go of his cock.
He gasped and rocked his hips forward so his penis would push against my hand. I glanced down and back up, amused, but kept my face free of expression. Then he saw the wicked smile that graced my lips a second after.
“I’m not repeating myself,” I said.
A few seconds passed, the internal conflict gaining intensity, until he broke.
I saw the defiance leave his eyes, ease out of the tension in his muscles. It was quickly replaced with an animalistic lust. Wild and wanting, he gave in to his carnal desires, pride be damned.
Damien’s hips began thrusting at a steady rhythm. I tightened my hand enough that he would actually feel something from it, but otherwise kept it still. My smile widened and I licked my lips. He was all mine.
His grunts and moans became louder, increasing in frequency as he pleased himself using my hand. When he started jerking and shaking, his orgasm close, I gripped more firmly and actually started stroking him, matching the rhythm of his hips. That put Damien over the edge and he shot his cum. Some splashed on my leather chaps, some on the floor.
He was spent.
Dangling from the restraints, eyes closed, head hanging, he was panting, sweating and exhausted. In this state, he truly was a beautiful man. I couldn’t help it. I let go of his throat and penis and moved closer. I pressed my lips against his cheek in a tender kiss.
“You’ve been a good boy. Give me a minute and I’ll be right back to wrap things up,” I whispered in his ear.
He nodded, but I could tell he’d barely heard me.
The first thing was to turn the cross to a slight backwards tilt. That way he could lean against it. Once that was done, I walked behind the cross and leaned down to a small cabinet. All our BDSM stations had a similar one filled with the right supplies for most kinds of aftercare. I took out what I needed and came back in front of him.
I used a towel to wipe off the sweat, being extra gentle where I’d left angry red marks all over his shoulders, chest and stomach. I used a disinfecting wipe to make sure his injuries would be clean, then I applied a cream that would help with the pain and irritation.
By the time I was done, Damien was finally coming back to his senses. He raised his head to look at me, still a bit out of it.
“That was…” He hesitated, searching for the right words.
“Are you satisfied?” He nodded. “ Think you’ll be coming back?” Another nod. “Good, you’re free to leave whenever you want,” I said.
With that, I untied his bindings with practiced efficiency and walked away. I’d see him again soon, I knew, and I couldn’t wait to tame that particular beast again.
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Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/kaeuy6/the_master_mm_bdsm