Tony caring for Peter after an especially rough scene together

@starker-bingo fill: I1 - Aftercare

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Hi All,

I’m a averagely expereinced Dom and my Sub (God Bless her little cotton socks (yes, with the cute little pink pom-poms) are just arriving into the DDLG space.

I just want commend G on her blog.

It has provided me with (much needed!) guidance on how to PROPERLY traverse the very delicate balance between the intermingled spaces of BDSM and DDLG and, treat my (comparatively - 3 months) new Sub in the LG role she wants (which is new and different for me) in the BEST way I can.  

Being a beginner and, after reading this blog the stress given to aftercare CANNOT be reinforced enough (learnt early from the D/S space for most I hope!).

It seems the more the world evolves the more.. ‘vanilla’ BDSM becomes - but less and less understanding is also evident.  Crap in certain recent books and films makes everyone think they’re Dom or Sub, but gives them absolutely zero insight into the psychology of a Sub-Drop, or for that mater, the much less ‘talked about’ Dom Drop, or anything else that truly matters in our world.

Anyway - I rant.

Thanks G for an AWESOME forum/blog.

My congrats to you and anyone who you deem worthy to love, in whatever role or capacity.

-T

T,

Thank you so much for your lovely note. I’m so glad my blog has helped you start your new adventure off in the best way possible! I have taken a bit of a hiatus from my LG role to recover from the loss of the nearly 3 year relationship I held so dearly. I hope to be back soon, but time is my healer. My words and advice remain on the blog for inspiration - please share them.

~G

More DD/LG advice & naughtiness on DaddysDLG.Tumblr.com

Tumblr To Permanently Ban All Adult Content - Joe.My.God.

So it seems our time together is soon to be over. If anyone knows where everyone else is going, please let me know.

I’m truly broken hearted that I will be losing this connection to all of my brothers and the MEN i have met because of this platform. I suppose that just like a life of service, this tumblr ride has a beginning, a middle and an end.

If there is a place you guys think i should restart, let me know.

Please do not forget to stay proud of who u are and what u are built to do.

They can push us off their platforms. They can try to separate us from each other. They can try to stop our communication, but lust and worship will live on as long as humans exist.

I’m so sorry that our society is fucking terrified of sexuality and what the body can do.

Fucking rail against it. Be the whore you want to see in the world.

Most importantly, remember that u have brothers and MEN out there who love you for exactly who you are.

Now. How do i keep from having serviceorientedsub disappear forever?

see the MEN i worship: http://serviceorientedsub.tumblr.com/ while you can.

lauryn-order:

lauryn-order:

Aftercare IS a fucking necessity.

Aftercare IS NOT a privilege.

Aftercare IS NOT optional.

Aftercare DOES NOT take away from the scene you just had.

Aftercare DOES NOT make you any less of a Dom/sub.

Aftercare does look different for everyone.

Aftercare needs do vary.

Aftercare can be small and simple or require more effort depending on the person, relationship and/or the scene.

What it can’t be is denied or not offered.

^honesty^

Part 3

When I started coming out of the headspace the scene had put me in, I suddenly realized there were a lot of people there. I had been entirely within the scene, so focused on Reaction Junkie, that I hadn’t noticed them at all. He and I gathered our things and walked to the couches outside of the main play area. We sat down for some aftercare, cuddling and talking. I had no way to know that this aftercare session would be just as intense as the scene that preceded it.

Reaction Junkie said something teasing, and I responded, “I hate you,” which, of course, I didn’t actually mean. His response took me entirely by surprise, “No you don’t. You love me.” My mouth dropped open and I couldn’t find words for a moment. Then I squirmed and buried my head in his chest. I said, “No,” and reiterated my hatred, “I hate you I hate you I hate you.” Reaction Junkie interrupted me, saying, “You say you hate me because if you didn’t, you’d say you loved me.”

I was shocked that he was bringing this up in this way, that he was just saying these things. Who does that? I was even a little mad at him. He was pushing me out into the open, making me confront feelings I hadn’t yet labeled even to myself. Finally, I was able to say, “I like you a lot.” Reaction Junkie shook his head. “You love me. You’ve loved me for weeks.” I stopped trying to dispute the emotion, although I also wasn’t ready to admit it. I instead focused on the timeline, “I don’t know about that.” He accepted that aspect, but continued to insist that I loved him.

I kept up my denial for a while. Finally, I admitted to it, “Okay. You’re right.” I said that it wasn’t something I had even acknowledged to myself. I’d brushed against it in conversation with friends and things I wrote for my feels blog, and even talked about the word “love,” but all in roundabout ways. Reaction Junkie said, “You know how I knew? Because of the jealousy feels.” He was talking about the first night he and I spent with Kitten. I shoved him a little and pouted. We continued talking and, as we did, I started thinking about everything that had happened that night and might happen now that my feelings for him were out in the open. I started crying, sobbing really, both from the pain and fear during the scene and because of the emotional intensity.

Reaction Junkie held me and comforted me. He asked what I needed, if there was anything he could do. He said he didn’t have a blanket and asked if I wanted to put my clothes on. I wasn’t sure what I wanted and was trying to sort it out when a guy came over to us. Normally that would be rude, but in this case it was actually really nice because he told us where the aftercare room was. I looked at Reaction Junkie and sniffled, “Can we go in there?” I felt bad for monopolizing him. I didn’t want to keep him taking care of me instead of going off and having fun with other people. But at the same time, I still needed care. Now it wasn’t just from the scene; I needed afteraftercare.

Obviously, Reaction Junkie immediately agreed we could go to the aftercare room. We cuddled up on a couch. He put a blanket over us and held me while I cried into him. We talked about the word “love” and about fear of saying it. My mind was racing as we talked. I wasn’t sure I wanted to say what I was thinking, but I decided to just spit it out instead of holding it inside and continuing to be upset about it. I told him, “I’m mostly upset because I don’t know how you feel.” Reaction Junkie paused. Then he told me that he’s also afraid of the word “love,” but that I should know he feels the same. He asked, “Would you feel better if I said it back?” I told him I didn’t want to make him say it, didn’t want to push him. He looked at me and said, “I love you.” I smiled at him and replied, “I love you.”

We stayed there talking for a long time, about our issues with sharing feelings, about not wanting to risk being hurt, about life, about the future, and about “our” possible future. My favorite moment was when Reaction Junkie said that he wouldn’t have said “I love you” to me unless he meant it. When I mentioned the times he’d said it sarcastically or in teasing way over the past few weeks. He repeated himself, “I wouldn’t have said it unless I meant it.” I looked at him and he added, “I said it sarcastically, but that was a way to protect myself and get myself to say it.” That means each time he’d said it over the previous weeks, each time he’d told me, “I love you” in a joking tone that would seem to imply he didn’t really mean what he was saying, each time, he’d meant it. He’d been saying “I love you” to me for weeks.*

I felt giddy and contented the rest of the night. I still get that warm fuzzy feeling when I think about it. We’ve grown even closer since then, and I’m ever so pleased with the way my life is going. It’s full of love, caring friends and partners, and hella fun.

*I’ve told multiple friends that bit of the story, and pretty much each person has responded, “Awwwwww!” That is the correct response. It’s sweet and adorable as fuck.

Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 14: Small Victories

Tagging List:@i-can-even-burn-salad@peachy-panic@deluxewhump@arwenadreamer@whumpcereal@melancholy-in-the-morning@dont-touch-my-soup@whumpsday@keeper-of-all-the-random-things@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump@oddsconvert@melennui@susiequaz12@morning-star-whump@crystalquartzwhump@whump-and-other-things@mylifeisonthebookshelf@reflected-pain@hold-him-down (I hope I’m not forgetting anyone - please let me know if I am and I’ll fix it. I’m still getting used to this) 

Thanks again to the absolutely AMAZING and LOVELY @whumpcereal who has truly been a fantastic sounding board to help me get through some REALLY difficult subject matter.

This on is REALLY long, but I didn’t want to break it up and you guys not get to see Ben get a bit of aftercare after what Volkov has done to him. So, enjoy the LONG chapter.

WARNING: This chapter as well as subsequent chapters contain explicit noncon. If you prefer not to read, I’ll totally understand. Heed the tags because this gets dark. It starts IMMEDIATELY where the last chapter left off, so it’s below the cut for noncon sensitivity.

Masterlist

When Ben regained consciousness, the training gag was back in his mouth, tickling the back of his throat again; Volkov’s toy still buzzed inside him.  Ben coughed, and the toy shifted inside, but at least the gag did not seem near as troublesome as it had been. His throat felt raw and sore, but it was nothing compared to what Volkov had done. 

The blindfold over his eyes was soaked with tears.  His whole body ached and, to his horror, Volkov’s hand was on his cock again.  Ben let out a groan as the Russian’s palm circled him again and he tried to shift his hips to the side.  His throat ached with the sound of his own hoarse voice.  

“There’s my darling Malyshka.  I have a feeling you’re going to need to get used to the feeling of choking on my cock.”

Ben yelped as a second vibrator was pressed against his member.  Nonononononono!!! How much worse could this get?  How much further could Volkov debase him?

“Did you think this was over?  Oh, my sweet, innocent boy.  I told you I had no intention of holding back with you today.  I fully plan on us being here for a while.  Now, I’ve already come inside of you twice, so I need a bit of rest.  You, on the other hand, decided to be a little shit.”

Ben let out a small whimper and then bit it back.  No.  Be quiet.  Don’t engage with him. But it hurt.  Everything hurt. And what didn’t hurt was too terrible to think about.  

It wasn’t long before Ben couldn’t stop the whimpers and the wiggling.  He was painfully hard and had been for a long time now.  Volkov kept a steady rhythm, toying and teasing him with hands, fingers, and vibrator. Ben hadn’t known that pleasure could be warped this way, that feeling good could be such a betrayal. 

Ben writhed against his restraints.  His legs were sore, especially his bent knees, still splayed open and chained to the edge of the bed frame.  God, he wanted to stretch so fucking bad.  But his body couldn’t have what it wanted. Against his will, his hips bucked wildly, and he didn’t even try to stop the movement anymore.  Volkov would build up a steady rhythm, stroking him, hand going faster and faster and let Ben start fucking into his hand–Ben couldn’t help it, he couldn’t–and then he would stop, suddenly, pulling his hand away.  

Over and over, Ben was left frustrated and flushed with humiliation at what he knew he’d just been doing.   And each time, Ben felt his resolve, his fight, crumbling and eroding further and further away.  

“Would you like to come now?”  Volkov asked playfully, thumbing Ben’s slit, making him jerk with forced pleasure.  “Have you changed your mind, kitten?”

Ben sobbed.  He didn’t want to, not like this.  But god, he knew he couldn’t hold out any longer.  He nodded, utterly broken and humiliated.  

“Alright, Malyshka.  I think you’ve earned that and more.”

Warning bells rang in Ben’s ears.  What the hell did that mean?

The ring at the base of his cock was taken off, and Ben groaned in relief. Volkov jacked him with a fast, rough pace.  Ben arched his back and came hard over Volkov’s hand in a matter of seconds, the vibrator still pressed against the head of his cock.  Ben sobbed with humiliation and relief as Volkov milked the last of his orgasm from him.  

Suddenly, something was being secured around the head of his cock.  The fucking vibrator was another ring.  Ben screamed as overstimulation slammed into him.  He writhed and jerked his hips, again, trying to throw the ring off.  

“I told you, my little scholar, that you’ve earned this.  Let’s see how many we can wring from your body.”

Ben shook his head as Volkov pressed the vibrator further inside him. He knew he was in trouble as soon as the moan escaped from his lips. Volkov turned up the frequency, and so it began. 

For the next two hours, Ben’s body was nothing but Volkov’s plaything, trapped in a brutal cycle of unwanted pleasure, orgasm, and unforgiving overstimulation. Volkov pumped the vibrator in and out; he changed the setting on the cock ring so that Ben couldn’t tell when the next pulse was going to come; he punished Ben’s cock with his relentless strokes. And he counted. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Eventually, Ben lost track. He couldn’t hear Volkov’s tally. He’d retreated inside of himself, and still it wasn’t enough. By the end, he was a writhing, babbling mess. 

Volkov wiped his fingers, sticky with Ben’s forced seed, down Ben’s chest before reaching to take off the blindfold so he could get a better look at Ben’s desperation.  A slow, toothy smile slid onto his face at the sight of Ben’s brown eyes, pupils blown wide from exertion.  “There’s my lovely boy.  All fucked out, aren’t you?  Had enough yet?” 

Ben sobbed, desperately nodding his head.  His normally floppy brown hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his cheeks weren’t pink–they were beet red from exhaustion, stress and need.  His nostrils flared, and he sucked in air through his nose in heaving gasps.  

“I bet you have at least one more inside you just for me, don’t you?”

Ben shook his head.  God please let this be over!  

“I think you do.  You want it to stop, you have to earn it.  Are you willing to earn it?”

Ben nodded as tears streamed down his cheeks.    

Volkov’s already broad grin broadened even more.  “Good.”  He pulled the silicone training gag out of Ben’s mouth.  “Show me what you learned last time.  Take me all the way down.”  He unlocked the chain holding Ben’s cuffed wrists to the headboard, leaving his wrists bound in front of him.  

Volkov was already half hard, and he helped Ben get to his knees. Without realizing it, Ben reached for the vibrating ring around his tip; he couldn’t handle both at once. No way.

It was the wrong thing to do. Volkov struck him hard on the cheek, opening up the cut on his lip again and sending him back to the mattress.  Ben yelped with the force of the blow.  

Volkov grabbed his hair with one hand, unclipped the short clasp between his wrists with the other, and then wrestled Ben onto his stomach.  Ben struggled weakly as his arms were manhandled behind his back and clipped back into place.  Volkov dragged him back to a kneeling position, and Ben screamed as his arms were yanked up and secured to the top of the headboard.  Ben whimpered as his hair was pulled back and he stared up with wide eyes at Volkov.  

“I really thought you were smarter than that, Little Scholar.”  They stared at each other, both panting.  “Did I give you permission to do that?” Ben squirmed in his hold as the vibrator around his dick whined suddenly higher.  

Volkov shook his head with his hair.  “I asked you a question,” he growled dangerously.  

“Nghh,” Ben gasped, shaking his head as best he could.  

“All you’re meant to do right now is be my fuck toy.  Do you understand?” Volkov gave his hair another viscous shake.  

Ben squeezed his eyes shut and nodded furiously.  How the hell had he ended up here, prisoner to this mad man?  

“You belong to me.”  Shake.  “I own you.”  Shake.  “You are MINE!” Volkov screamed the last word into Ben’s ear.  He knelt on the bed in front of Ben and lowered him down towards his crotch, letting his shoulders strain behind him.  “You better fucking make me happy or we’ll just keep going for a few more hours.  Well, you will.  I’ll settle down and take a long night’s sleep and you’ll spend the night writhing with an even bigger vibrator up your ass and your cock in a cage.”

Ben whimpered as Volkov pushed his mouth on to his cock for the second time that night.  

Volkov slapped him to get his attention.  “Use your fucking tongue.  Make it good.”  Ben had never had a blow job.  He actually found the idea of mouth to genital contact rather revolting.  However, in this instance, his sense of self-preservation overcame his revulsion.  He obeyed, using his tongue to please Volkov, lapping against Volkov’s wet tip. 

Alexsei used him for several minutes straight, pushing balls deep into Ben’s mouth more than once, but he lacked the intensity that he had earlier in the evening.  It was slower, more measured, to draw out Ben’s suffering. Ben wasn’t just being fucked; he had to participate, to perform.  Volkov admired the clearly painful tension in Ben’s shoulders and arms, the way his hands flexed and trembled with each thrust into his mouth.  

Ben’s arms ached, the muscles spasming and trembling painfully behind him.  And there was always the taste and texture of Volkov on his tongue.  He had no idea how to truly give a blow job, so he just kept his tongue moving, hoping desperately that it was enough.  He breathed through his nose, smelling sweat and sex, but there was no thought to what he did with his mouth.  He blanked his mind as best he could, his only thought, keep moving.  

So he did, he flicked his tongue over Volkov’s member, swirled it around, stretched it out and pulled it back.  He had no energy to hold back his tears or stifle his trembling or the small cries that left him when Volkov would yank on his hair, wanting him to change angles.  At least Volkov was letting him breathe this time.  

Volkov pulled out of Ben and shoved him roughly down onto the bed with his ass still in the air, body twisted so he could get access.  Ben wanted to cry with relief when his wrists were freed from the head board, but he didn’t have the chance. Volkov entered him without warning, without preparation, and only one tiny cry escaped Ben as he was pounded from behind. 

Ben managed to clamp down on every sound he wanted to make except pained, breathy grunts.  He was doing well, until Volkov reached around his abdomen and started stroking his sore, sensitive cock.  Ben jerked and writhed, now moaning as Volkov’s hand moved at a punishing pace.  Volkov came again after a few minutes, and Ben, still sobbing, spilled over his hand a few minutes later.  

Volkov shoved Ben to his back on the bed, holding his knees apart and playing with the head of Ben’s cock, polishing it with the palm of his hand until Ben was thrashing and screaming.  Before it could fall into pleasure once again, Volkov finally released him.  

He grabbed Ben by the hair, pulling his face closer and backhanding him for the third time that night.  Ben slumped back to the bed sobbing, bruised, and bloody.  

“Don’t you ever pull that shit with me again, you little prick.” Volkov wrapped his thick hands around Ben’s throat just above the collar.  He squeezed, and Ben gasped. There was no air.  “You’re fucking mine!  Do you hear me?  MINE!” Volkov kept squeezing.  Ben saw spots, then the edges of his vision grayed out.  Ben tried desperately to suck in air, but nothing could get past the constriction around his throat.  He felt himself losing consciousness, slipping into darkness.  Tears flowed freely from his eyes and back into his hair.  

Then, everything went black.  

*!*!*!*!*

Volkov stared down at the fucked out toy beneath him.  Little bastard didn’t want to scream? Fine.  That could be arranged.  He checked to make sure Benjamin was breathing.  Volkov ran his fingers along the fresh marks just coming up.  He’d have a lovely ring of bruises tomorrow.  He undid Ben’s cuffs and put him in the recovery position before ringing for Dmitri to carry him back to his cage. 

He pulled out his phone and took a picture of Ben, and then another of Ben’s face.  He made sure he documented the sweat, blood, and tears staining his face, and the filth that still stuck to the boy’s body.  This way, he’d never have to forget how ruined Ben was after this first time–and neither would little Benjamin or his brother.  Before putting his phone away, he took a picture of the bruising around Ben’s neck.  He’d get some rest and then send these pictures to Jake in the morning.  

Volkov waited for his underling to take Ben away, with the instruction that the boy’s muzzle be put back on. If Benjamin would not scream, Benjamin would not speak.  Volkov then crawled back into bed and slept like a baby.  It was the first time he’d been able to work out all the tension in his body in a while.  Fuck, it felt good.  Next time he’d consider keeping Benjamin here so that he could wake up next to him and fuck him as soon as he woke up again.  

*!*!*!*!*

When Ben came to, he was still bound, hands in front of him now. He wasn’t on the soft bed anymore. Not that he wanted to be.  The ring had been taken out of his mouth, but it had been replaced with the tight muzzle.  He was back in his cage.  Despite everything, Ben breathed a sigh of relief and lay his head down on the cold floor of the cage.  It was over.  It was finally fucking over.  

For now, a voice in his head supplied.  

Ben stretched with relief at the realization that his ankles, while chained together, were no longer strapped to his thighs.  His dick throbbed painfully between his legs and his backside felt like he’d been ripped in two; the ache was so deep he felt like it might never go away.  But, damn it, he survived.  And he hadn’t screamed when Volkov had fucked him. Not once.

Ben smiled under his muzzle.  If it was the last thing he did, Ben swore to himself that he would never scream while Volkov used him  Sure, he might make Ben scream during other tortures, but not that.  Never.  He could do it.  He could keep that one tiny piece of himself alive in this hell hole.  He would.  

Alone and locked away, Ben let himself cry.  He’d earned it, hadn’t he?  The tears pooled beneath his cheek, and still he cried.  He cried for home, for his lost future, for the person he’d been only two weeks ago. He cried for Zoe, and he cried for Jake and his parents.  Ben cried for himself and what had happened to him over the last two weeks, and what had just happened to him in the last few hours. He cried for what would certainly happen again.

With the exhaustion of his tears came a quiet peace.  Not a relief, but a reprieve.  Ben didn’t fight the sleep that pulled his eyes shut.  So what if he had a nightmare.  He lived in a nightmare.  Sleep was a welcome disconnect from reality.  And Ben welcomed it with every fiber of his being. 

*!*!*!*!*

Something brushed near his cage, and Ben gasped awake with a near scream.  His eyes shifted around–was it Volkov? Had he already come back for more? He wasn’t ready. Not yet..  Ben sucked in smothered breaths through his muzzle.  

“Easy!  Easy, Ben.  It’s just me,” Andrei said from the door of Ben’s cage.  

It took Ben’s eyes a moment to settle on Andrei, for him to grasp that it was justAndrei, and no one else.  His chest heaved, but he couldn’t get air; he felt like he was hyperventilating.  It was a far greater response than it should have been. A panic attack probably, but knowing what it was didn’t make it stop. 

“Breathe, Ben.  Breathe.  In and out.  You’re okay right now.  You’re okay.”  Andrei spoke calmly as he opened the door of Ben’s cage.  Ben jumped and pressed himself to the back of the cage, like a frightened animal.  

“Hey, easy.  Okay.  Okay, I’ll leave it shut.  Is that okay?”  Andrei closed the door and sat back on the floor.  

Ben met Andrei’s eyes.  They weren’t the steel gray of Volkov’s.  That helped.  He focused on Andrei’s gentle, soft brown eyes.  He breathed through the panic.  Eventually his gaze drifted down, and he could see Andrei’s mouth was moving.  His breath was still frantic in his ears, and he couldn’t quite hear. But still, he kept trying to  focus on Andrei’s lips, trying to focus on his words.  

“In… and out…  In… and out.”  Andrei nodded at Ben.  “You’re doing great.  It’s okay.  We’re not in a rush.  Take your time.  I’m sorry I scared you when I took the cover off.  I should have warned you.”

Ben nodded.  He understood him.  

“Is it okay if I open your door now?  You don’t have to come out yet.  It’s just you and me, kid,” Andrei’s voice was soft and gentle.  

Ben nodded again; he remembered his  rules. Andrei held the cage door open for him, and he crawled toward it.  

“You don’t have to come out yet if you need a few minutes.”  Andrei sat criss-cross applesauce on the floor next to the door, arms resting casually on his knees as he waited for Ben.  “I’ll tell you the plan for the morning while you get your bearings.  Vol- He’ll be down later.  Wanted to sleep in.  He said you could too.  Would you prefer to keep sleeping or get cleaned up?” Andrei frowned as he took in the sight of Ben’s battered and bruised body, his filthy skin, the blood still on his face.

Ben lay at the doorway of the cage.  He didn’t know what to do.  He felt gross.  He knew he’d been laying in dried sweat and blood and other bodily fluids all night.  He looked up at Andrei, eyes pleading to be told what he should do. Ben didn’t want to choose; that never worked out for him. Not here. Whatever Andrei decided, Ben just wanted it to involve the least amount of pain possible.  

“I promise I won’t do anything without your consent first.  And I swear, I’ll be as gentle as possible.  But you really do need to get cleaned up. I came in early so it would just be us and no Dmitri or Ilya.  Is that okay?”

Ben nodded and crawled towards him.  The effort it took to move his body even this far was exhausting.  

“I’m strong enough to carry you.  I have everything we need at the table.  Is it okay if I assist you?”

Ben collapsed on the floor in front of Andrei and nodded his consent.  

Andrei was very careful as he slowly pulled Ben up.  “Let me know if I’m hurting you.  Okay?  I’m not trying to, but I need to assess your injuries as we go.”

Ben nodded.  Andrei lifted him up and swung his arm over his shoulder.  He carried Ben over to the table and helped him lay down on his side.  Ben was aware that Andrei turned something on, there was a whirring sound and heat started to flow over him.  A heater.  Andrei had turned on a heater.  Ben nearly giggled as the warmth flowed over him. 

“Is that better?” Andrei asked.  

Ben nodded.  

“Is it okay if I take off the muzzle, Ben?  It’s only for a little bit.  Volkov ordered that you wear it all the time, and you’re forbidden to talk.”  Andrei leaned in close to him.  “But he’s not here right now.”

Ben nodded again.  

Andrei removed the padlock and carefully undid the buckle.  “Easy, easy,” he spoke calmly as he pulled it from Ben’s face.  “I’m sorry in advance for when I have to put this back on.”

“‘S’okay,” Ben replied flatly, his voice rough.  

“What did you do to have him forbid you from talking?”

Ben shrugged, but a shudder ran through his body.  He moved his fingers to his throat as he recalled Volkov squeezing and squeezing there.  Ben clenched his eyes shut at the memory of Volkov’s eyes looking into his as he strangled him.  

“Hey, it’s okay.  You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.  You’re okay.  He’s not here right now.  You’re not there.  Focus on here, okay.  My voice, the table underneath you.  Your heart rate, your breathing.”

Ben nodded, like he forgot he could talk for a moment.  

“Is it okay if I start cleaning you up?  I’d like to start with your face and then assess those bruises on your throat.”

“‘S’fine,” Ben said, voice raspy and harsh.  He coughed and then winced in pain at the burn in his throat.   

“You can keep your eyes closed if you want.  It might help you relax.”  

This time, Ben didn’t want to talk, so, again, he nodded and closed his eyes.  

Andrei was true to his word and very gentle.  He cleaned Ben’s face and neck with a warm sponge.  His fingers were light as he probed at the bruising along Ben’s trachea.  

“Ben, would you mind opening your mouth for me?  I… I need to see if there’s any internal damage to your throat.”  Andrei waited patiently, watching how Ben’s eyes rabbited around the room, as if her were still trying to make sure that Volkov wasn’t there.  When his eyes settled back on Andrei, he nodded slowly and opened his mouth.

“Thank you, Ben.  I’m going to put my hands on your chin and shine a light down your throat, okay?”

Andrei moved very slowly and paused before he touched Ben, waiting for Ben to acknowledge him.  Ben opened his mouth wider in agreement.  Andrei held on only as tightly as he needed to in order to steady Ben’s trembling.  He shined his light down Ben’s throat and took note of the deep internal bruising that he observed there.  Andrei turned the light off and Ben closed his mouth, his face flushing with embarrassment once again.  Fuck that bastard.  He must have been so brutal with the boy to leave bruising like that.  Andrei swallowed, and not for the first time, he was grateful that he could.

“You’re going to be okay.  You’ll be sore for a few days; you should conserve your voice when you can.”

Ben laughed.  “L-like I h-have a ch-choice,” he rasped as he fought back tears;he’d cried enough yesterday.  “W-why do you, you care anyway?” Ben’s voice was thin and unfamiliar to his own ears. 

“You… well, you remind me of myself.  Just a bit.”

“Volkov torture you too?” Ben couldn’t keep the hard edge of sarcasm out of his voice.

Andrei’s hands kept on. “Not physically, no.  But do you think that this is what I saw myself doing when I first became a doctor?”

Ben shrugged again.  

“May I move lower down your back, Ben?  Some of these stitches will have to be done again, but it has to be cleaned first.”

“Fine.”

“When I was a teenager, I wanted to be a doctor.”  Andrei kept his voice even as he talked.  “Kids from my part of Russia don’t often have the means or ability to go to school, let alone become doctors.  I was determined.  I sought out every scholarship and program I could find.  I got my undergraduate degree and my graduate degree, but when I was ready to go to medical school, there was nothing left.  I had exhausted all my resources.” 

 Andrei dumped the warm water from the bucket and filled it with fresh water so he could continue cleaning.  

“I heard about a brilliant philanthropist who was known to help people who were… promising.  I’d worked hard to get the opportunities that I had.  This was just one more thing to work hard at.  It took me six months, but I finally got a face-to-face meeting with one Alexsei Volkov.  He had billions at his disposal, always wore bespoke suits, and had an ear with the Kremlin.  And he’d agreed to meet with me.  I was a hopeful fool.  I was utterly smitten with the legend of Alexsei Volkov.  I bought everything he sold me, hook, line, and sinker.  

“He agreed to put me through medical school, free of charge… with one small caveat: I had to come and work for him for a period of time after I graduated.  He assured me I would be helping people and putting my medical degree to good use,”

Andrei paused and moved to Ben’s front.  “May I clean your chest?”

Ben didn’t speak but rolled back to give him access.  Andrei’s voice was calm, grounding.  It was the most anyone had talked to him since he arrived here.  At least the most talk which wasn’t threats and manipulation.  At least he hoped this wasn’t manipulation.  But what reason would Andrei have to lie?

“Anyway.  It was my dream.  And I would get to work with Alexsei.  I willingly agreed and unknowingly signed my life away.  I got my degree and had a job as well.  It went well for the first year or so.  Then he had me accompany him on a trip to the Philippines.  It wasn’t a regular business or humanitarian trip.  I… saw things.  I saw Volkov do things… He made me participate and do things… Things I never thought I’d do…”

Ben giggled bitterly, still not fully processing everything.  “Like helping someone that he’d fucked into unconsciousness?”

Andrei frowned.  “Sort of.  By the time we got back to Russia, I knew what he was.  And I knew I’d never be able to leave him.  He knew it too.  Forced me to break up with my girlfriend.  Kept me from contacting my family.  I haven’t talked to them except for a five minute phone call here and there maybe three times over the last five years.”

Andrei looked at Ben as he finished cleaning his upper torso.  “Like I said, do you think this is really what I wanted to be doing with my life?  Volkov routinely shows me pictures of my parents, siblings, nieces and nephews.  It’s not because he’s being nice.  It’s a threat.  He’s letting me know he knows where everyone I care about is.”

Ben swallowed.  “I… I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, Ben.  Just wanted you to know why I’m here and why I care.  I hate it here too,” Andrei whispered conspiratorially.  “But I do what I can to help ease the suffering of those under his thumb in far worse conditions than me.” 

Yeah, because helping Volkov draw out my torture and making sure I’m alert and concious is so fucking compassionate, Ben thought, bitterness coloring his view of the doctor once again.  

Andrei sighed.  “This is gonna be the hard part, Ben. I need to clean and inspect your lower half.  If you’d like, I can start with your feet and legs.”

Ben nodded.  He knew this was coming.  His face flushed red with embarrassment at his condition–but then again, maybe Andrei had seen worse.  Andrei changed the water again and then sponged off Ben’s feet and legs.  As he got high up onto Ben’s thighs he had to change the water more frequently.

Ben was okay when Andrei was washing his feet.  His breath caught slightly as Andrei cleaned the filth from his lower legs.  He shut his eyes tight and felt his heart rate increase when Andrei cleaned his legs just above his knees and inspected the chaffing from the restraints that Volkov had put on him to hold him open.  He bit his cheek to hold in his sob as the memories started to pour over him, through him and a soft groan escaped his lips.  

“Ben, do you need a breather?  I have to do the hard part now.” 

Ben swallowed.  “No.  I can… I can do this.  You won’t hurt me.”

“You sure?”  Andrei rubbed at Ben’s tense calf muscles.  “You seem tense.”

Ben gasped and his legs flexed at a sudden vision of Volkov rubbing his legs in a mock massage while he lay screaming and begging for him to stop from behind his gag.  

“No!  I’m good.  I just… I fucking need this to be over!” Ben said through gritted teeth and harsh breaths.  “Please.” Ben’s chest was heaving.  “Please just finish.”

“Okay, like you said, I won’t hurt you, but some of this may be uncomfortable.  If you need me to stop, I will.”  Andrei checked his watch.  “We still have time.  There’s no rush.”  

Ben gasped in a breath, it was stupid to be so emotional about a promise like that.  But no one here had yet given him the option to say no.  Andrei was holding that out to him like a lifeline.  He was seen.  His pain and trauma were seen.  It was a small thing, but to Ben it was massive.  He blinked rapidly as tears flooded his eyes.  

“No.  I want it over with,” Ben said, breathing slightly more calm than a few moments before.  

Andrei repositioned him and started working.  

Ben winced and hissed as the parts of his body that had endured the most trauma were cleaned and probed.  He tried not to cry, but as the flashbacks started coming more quickly he gripped the edge of the table harder and harder.  Ben squeezed his eyes shut and tried to do as Andrei told him.  Focus on the feel of the table beneath him, his breathing, his heart rate, the sound of Andrei’s voice.  But Andrei wasn’t talking now.  

“Hey.  Hey, Ben.”  Andrei’s hands were on his face.  “Hey, let’s take a break.  It’s okay.  You’re so strong.  I can see it.  You’re so very strong, Ben.  You’re doing so good.  I know this is hard.  I’m so sorry that this is happening to you.  Shhh.  Shhh…”

It wasn’t until Andrei started shushing him that he realized he was crying, deep heaving sobs he’d been trying to hold in but that couldn’t be contained.  

 Andrei took his hand, and Ben gripped onto it like it was a life preserver.  “You’re okay.  It’s over.  It’s over.  You’re not in that room.  You’re not in that bed.  It’s okay.  Shhh.”

But it wasn’t over.  It might never be over. Ben knew that Volkov was going to do this again and again and a again.  He was going to come in here and drag him back to that room, to that bed.  He’d do what he did last night as often as he wanted.  And knowing Volkov, that would be frequent and Ben wouldn’t put it past Volkov to have even more evil surprises and tortures to inflict on his Malyshka.  Whatever the hell that name actually meant.  

Ben’s heart was in his throat.  There was no air in the room.  It didn’t matter how kind Andrei was, Volkov was a monster that was going to use him in any way he wanted.  This was all an illusion.  Neither Ben nor Andrei had any power here.  

“Breathe, Ben.  Breathe.  It’s okay.  I’m sorry.  I should have realized you were in distress.  I should have stopped.  I was just trying to finish and get it over with.  I’m sorry.”

Ben’s hair was sweaty again.  He held desperately to Andrei’s hand as he rode out his tremulous emotions.  

As his breathing calmed, he kept his eyes shut but told Andrei, “Please.  Please finish.  I need it done.”

“Okay.  I’ll finish.  And then I’ll help you get rinsed off.  We’ll wash your hair.  It’ll be okay.”

Andrei was gentle but quick.  Ben had to bite down on the leather around his wrists as Andrei examined him, and he realized Andrei was trying to see if Volkov had torn him and how badly.  As Andrei moved his gloved fingers out of him, Ben let out an agonized cry that he had held in since the night before. 

“Okay.  All done.  All done.  Hard part over.”

Andrei turned from him and tossed his gloves in the garbage.   The damage wasn’t too bad.  Andrei was honestly surprised that it wasn’t worse.  He’d seen Volkov do so much worse, and to people even younger and more defenseless than Ben.  He took a moment to take a few steadying breaths himself.  He fucking hated this part of his job.  He hated that he knew exactly what to look for, what kind of damage Alexsei liked to inflict.  

He hated that he knew Ben would be okay because that meant that Volkov would drag him back to that horrible room and do this again, and maybe worse, sooner than Andrei would like.  Maybe he could buy the kid some time, but it wouldn’t be much.  If the damage were worse, he could bargain for more.  But fuck if Volkov didn’t learn from his past mistakes as well.  Sick bastard.  

He grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to Ben.  

“Drink.  It’ll help.”  Ben sat up as best he could, shivering slightly from the fear and humiliation that kept rolling through him.  He sipped on the water.  It did seem to help, and Ben found that he was ravenously thirsty.  He finished the bottle of water within a few minutes.  

“Th-thank you,” he managed to whisper to Andrei.  

“You’re welcome.  Is it okay to get you rinsed off now?  I’ll help you stand.  You must be sore and exhausted.”

Ben nodded, wiping at the tears that still kept coming.  

“It’s okay, don’t try to hold it in.  I know it’s hard.”

Ben couldn’t handle it anymore. Maybe Andrei saw what other people suffered, but he had no idea what it was to be in Ben’s shoes. “Stop saying that!  You don’t!  You see all the medical stuff, but you don’t actually know.  You don’t know what it’s like to have what he did to me done to you, for hours.  Hours!  I wanted him to stop.  He wouldn’t stop!”

“I know.  It’s what he does.  You must have got angry last night.  All I can say is I’ve never heard of him getting so furious that after a first time, he orders them muzzled.  Hold onto that.  It’s what will help you survive,” Andrei challenged.  

“I-I just want it to stop,” Ben’s voice cracked with desperation, “and it’s not… It’s not going to.  He’s going to do it again and I don’t want him to.”

“He is.  We both know that.  I’m sorry.  Like I said yesterday, god, I wish I could do more.  But I promise you that I will always be here afterwards to help you.  I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

Ben barely heard him. “I’m so tired,” he whimpered.

“I know.  Come on.  Let’s get you rinsed off and your hair clean.  It’s still all sweaty.  You can relax, sleep even if you want.  I’m not gonna touch anything that hurts for a while.  I’ll have to redo your stitches, but I can give you a local anesthetic.  I told you the hard part was over, and I meant it.”

Andrei helped Ben sit in a chair under the shower nozzle.  He turned the nozzle away from Ben until it was warm.  All the leftover bits of filth and sweat were washed away.  Andrei tilted Ben’s head back, supporting the base of his skull with one hand and directing the water over his scalp with the other.  Ben kept his eyes closed, and Andrei noted the almost peaceful expression on the boy’s face.  He turned off the water and lathered up some soap in his hands. Ben had longish hair, especially when it was wet; Andrei combed his fingers through it, but it took a minute for Andrei to work out all the dried blood and other fluids.  He massaged Ben’s scalp, knowing how much tension it might help release. 

Ben didn’t talk, but Andrei watched as the boy’s breathing calmed to a slow, steady pace for the first time since he took him out of his cage.  Andrei turned the water on and rinsed out the soap.  Then he repeated the process.  He didn’t need to, Ben’s hair was clean of all the offending material, but he knew the boy could use someone touching him that wasn’t threatening, wasn’t harmful.  He needed human contact that was free of pain.  And so he gave it to him.  He washed Ben’s hair three times before he finally turned off the water.  

He got a towel, and unlike Dmitri who liked to pull hair and hurt, Andrei was very soft as he toweled Ben’s hair dry.  

“Come on Ben, let’s get you dressed.  You’ll feel more like a human being once you have your clothes back on.”

“Hmm.  Yeah,” Ben replied sleepily in his ragged voice.  

Andrei helped him up again, and Ben leaned heavily against him as they walked back to the table.  Andrei helped him get dressed and then eased him back down onto the table.  

“Andrei?” It was the first time Ben had called him by name.  “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Ben, what do you need?”

“What… What does Malyshka mean?”  Ben lay on his stomach with his eyes closed.  He didn’t see the frown on Andrei’s face.  

“It means babe or baby, like a… um… term of endearment.”

Ben’s face twisted in disgust.  “I thought it was something like that, fucker.”  Ben settled his head back onto his arms and took a deep breath.

Andrei smiled.  “He is.”

“Can I have your permission to inject you with some pain killers?  They’re local for your back, so I can do the stitches.”

Ben lay with his head pillowed on his arms.  “Yes.  Do what you have to.  I just don’t wanna hurt.”

“It’s okay, Ben, I’ve got you.  I’m not gonna let it hurt if I can help it.”

Ben winced a few times as he felt the needle going into the abused sections of his back.  Andrei tossed the needles and medication away.  He’d put it all in the incinerator once Ben was asleep again; Volkov would be angry if he found out that Andrei had spared Ben any suffering.  

Once Ben’s back was numbed, Andrei worked quickly.  He restiched the cuts from the whip that had split open and made sure they were disinfected once again.  

“Okay, Ben.  I’m all done.”  He gently touched Ben’s shoulder and smiled as a soft snore left the boy’s mouth.  

Andrei gathered up all the supplies and evidence of drugs and gentle treatment and then walked down to the incinerator at the end of the hall.  He tossed all of it in and kicked the furnace on.  By the time he returned to Ben, he was curled up on the table, sleeping soundly.  Andrei checked his watch.  He still had time before Volkov and his men would be down here.  He took the muzzle and set it on the prep table.  He’d let Ben sleep as long as he could before he had to wake him and put that god awful contraption back on his face. Still. It was evidence that Ben was the fighter Andrei knew him to be.

“Bravo, Ben,” Andrei whispered, letting a gentle hand smooth Ben’s wet hair away from his face. “Whatever the hell you did to make the old man so mad… Bravo, kid.  Bravo.”

What We Forged in the White Heat (Dayasco) - Puppy 

Summary: Daya finds herself tied and spreader-barred to a chair, and her captor is the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen. They also happen to be her girlfriend.

A/N: bosco uses she/they pronouns; daya, she/her. title comes from “eat your heart out adonis” by wild beasts

ao3 link

~~

Daya woke up to mostly darkness. Her eyes were open, yet she couldn’t see anything. No… she couldn’t have gone blind. She couldn’t have gone blind after a few hours, and she didn’t remember hitting her head.

The punk girl moved one of her hands to see if something was up, attempting to remove the blindfold – the keyword being attempting.  “Let’s try the other one,” She muttered under her breath as the same thing happened again. She felt the stretching and squeaking of bondage tape around her wrists.

Momentarily forgetting the definition of insanity, Daya tried to stand up, but, in addition to her hands being fettered, she couldn’t close her legs. She couldn’t move them at all that much, really. If she wasn’t fastened to the chair, she would have waddled her way around and probably not have gotten much mileage anyway, considering her legs were spread as far as they could.

Squinting her eyes behind the blindfold, even more senses erupted. She felt a sudden draft in the room, her hardened nipples getting the forefront of it the most. Another draft blew between her legs, her thighs slick with arousal. She shivered, but not from the cold. A bullet vibrator was inside of her, probably on its highest setting. It wasn’t like Daya could tell anyway. Whether it was at its lowest or highest setting didn’t matter; what mattered was the constant aching between her thighs.

No vision, no real range of movement, and no way of relieving herself of the pressure? There was only one logical explanation in her panicked state: she had been kidnapped. 

Daya struggled some more, trying to inch herself closer to the door and see if there was any other weakness in her bindings, but she was stopped before she could make any real progress. 

She heard the door open and the clicks and clacks of high heels on the hardwood. The footsteps got louder and louder as they circled her like a vulture to its prey. A low laugh filled the room as her captor’s breath blew hot against her ears. Daya could basically feel their lips brush against her. 

Surprised by the nearness of the contact, she tilted her head away from the mystery person, but they still got closer. They always did.

“Do you remember your safeword?”

There it was: the voice of the villainous mastermind of a partner. Of course you weren’t kidnapped, stupid. Well, not really kidnapped. This was your idea anyway… Her thoughts raced after every word Bosco spoke.

Nonetheless, Daya still nodded her head, putting her trust in Bosco with whatever plans the two of them had for the night..

“Tell me. Out loud.” Bosco ordered.

“Red.” She faintly whispered back.  “The safeword is ‘red’.” 

“Good girl.” 

Bosco whipped the blindfold off, and the first thing Daya saw was their smirk – that smug look of victory that dripped with dominance. They were wearing a smart black pantsuit, but instead of a shirt, she was cinched into a red pleather corset. She slowly took the jacket off, putting their burlesque experience into practice. As soon as she was done, she straddled the chair and scooped the cat that followed her into her arms.

“I quite like you like this, you know.” They began to monologue, stroking Tobi in their lap. “Bound, edged, naked… You’re lucky I didn’t gag you. I quite like hearing your sounds, believe it or not.”

“Why, thank you. They–”

“Ah ah ah,” Bosco tsked, waving a single finger for added theatrics. “I said I like hearing your noises. I never said anything about your words; you speak when you’re spoken to. Capiche?” 

Daya couldn’t help but laugh. She pinched her fingers behind her back, subtly making the Italian hand gesture. “Y..yes,” She continued between staggered giggles, stopping once Bosco stomped one boot. “You got it! Capiche!”

“Hmm…” They pondered Daya’s answer as continued to stroke the cat, her slender fingers threading through the short fur. “Yes, what? It feels a little empty at the end of your ‘yes’. The rest of your sentence, even.”

“Hmm?”

“It seems you have forgotten that you can’t just speak to me however you want; you’re not in charge anymore, you know.”

She took a deep breath, feeling the pressure as her partner tapped their boot rhythmically yet impatiently waiting for a proper answer. “Yes… M-my Liege. I’m sorry.” Daya hung her head as her shame – and the overall thrill of the situation– flushed her cheeks.

“Apology accepted… You are adorable, you know that right?” Before the bound girl had a chance to respond, Bosco continued. “How cute you were, thinking that you could fully stop my nefarious doings. You think you’re so tough, but look at yourself! Is that the look of a hero?”

Daya didn’t respond, even though she was directly addressed. She glanced at her current position, struggling in her bondage to give her Liege even more power.

“Let me tell you something, Daya. Fill you in on a little secret…” They gently let their cat off their lap and walked over to her captive audience, letting the furry friend out of the door before going back to her gloating. “I let you win. I backed down, letting you believe you were good enough to beat me. And at the moment you’d least expect it, when your ego’s been inflated to its highest point… Pop!” They snapped their fingers right next to Daya’s ear for added emphasis. “There I am with the needle.”

“Or maybe,” They continued, circling around the bound girl again, “I didn’t have the needle at all. You just… deflated on your own, leaving yourself destroyed, vulnerable, and in a perfect position to be shown your true place.” 

“Aren’t you disappointed, hero?” Bosco mocked as they lightly dragged their nails against Daya’s exposed shoulder. “That you fell for this: the oldest ruse in the book? That you came and went as easily as the Hindenburg disaster.” They cupped her chin, tilting it upward so Daya was forced to make eye contact. “Tell me.”

The captive sighed, the gears turning in her head to one-up Bosco’s own monologuing skills.  That’s what happens when two overdramatic nerds date each other. Improv wasn’t her strongest suit, but when she was given this much material, how could she falter? 

“Y…yes, my Liege.” She closed her eyes and tried to turn her face away, but that action was quickly corrected. “I –fuck–, I surrender. Everything. God… Please! Fuck!”

“How eloquent.” Bosco teased as she drank in all of Daya: every plea, every reaction, every little squirm in her seat, the rise and fall of her chest and how the sheen of her sweat glistened against her skin. How all the words she wanted to say seemed to fall out of her ears.

“Please!” Daya continued begging, resisting every urge to hump against the chair. “Fuck… touch me, PLEASE!”

“I am touching you.” They tightened the grip on her chin enough to prevent bruising.

“No, I mean–” She should have been grateful for the skin against skin, knowing what lied ahead was going to be even more torturous.  The guilt of even asking for more contact swelled in her stomach. “Fuck, I wanna… I… wanna–”

“Has the cat got your tongue?”

There were plenty of things she wanted Bosco to do to her, but she didn’t have enough thoughts in her head to express that. Momentarily gaining back a sense of control, she quipped back. “It seems that the cat has left the room, my Liege…”

Bosco snickered, but got back into character as soon as she broke it. “It’s nice to see there’s some fight still in you, but I really thought you surrendered. Almost had me fooled for a second.”

“Well… uh– I have, my Liege. I shouldn’t hav –”

“Then prove it.” They hoisted a leg up, landing the boot in between Daya’s spread legs. “If your words aren’t enough, there’s another way to show you’ve given yourself to me.” As if like clockwork, the bound girl’s hips spasmed, trying to close the distance between herself and the toe of the boot. While she looked at the boot, fully focused on worshiping it with her limited mobility, Bosco only wanted to look in her desperation-filled eyes. It was a shame she wasn’t gonna see them for a while.

“Good girl. I expect you to lick that off later.” Bosco pulled the blindfold back down and kissed the top of her forehead, leaving a bright red lipstick mark: a temporary claim of ownership. “Now that you’ve sworn your fealty to me, I believe you’re due for an inspection. How does that sound?” They asked as if Daya had a choice in answering. 

Daya nodded her head as the vibrations in between her legs seemingly grew more intense. The boot then left the space between her legs, prompting a low whine from her.

“I pride myself on having my playthings in pristine condition, so you’d better not disappoint me.” Ignoring the whine, Bosco put on a pair of black latex opera gloves and snapped one of them against her skin, loud enough to gauge another reaction from Daya. 

Daya half-expected her Liege to pull out a speculum or some other torturous device, but even they weren’t that evil. Besides, getting the duck lips would have been a bit overkill. Then again, it wasn’t that kind of inspection. She took a few more deep breaths to ready herself as she ignored the way those breaths hitched with every inhale.

“You’re drenched! Oh, you poor thing.” Bosco taunted as she dragged two fingers outside her slit, teasing at her entrance. “Are you that desperate for me? Even after you rutted against my boot? I’m half-impressed.” They then inserted one finger that prompted a poorly muffled moan from Daya’s mouth. The cool latex meeting her warm, wet folds was slightly overwhelming. They slipped it in and out, gradually inching the active vibrator out of her cunt.  They could practically feel her walls expand and contract around the gloved finger. 

Daya’s face was even more flush as she felt the vibe being fished out of her. As soon as it was turned off and she no longer felt the pulses through her thighs, Bosco shoved two fingers into her. She tried her best to remain quiet and still, but her body betrayed her. Her hips jerked and spasmed, desiring more and more stimulation which her domme was much too happy to give. She closed her eyes, trying to think about literally anything else than orgasming. 

How well Fendi did at the groomers today. What she was going to make for dinner. How her Liege’s thumb rolled against her clit in long, teasing strokes and how the rest of their latex-clad fingers were knuckle-deep inside her.. How she much would have wanted to have vibrator back in then go through this pleasurable torture. How those fingers just kept getting faster and faster and there was no time for her to —

“Cum. Now cum for me, my hero.” 

And she did. The orgasm shot out of her before she could even register it could happen. Her whole body shuddered as she squirted onto Bosco’s gloved hand. She was practically on cloud nine. Daya panted in dire attempts to catch her breath, the desperation dripping out of her mouth with the drool from her lolled out tongue, and she could have sworn she heard a camera flash, or at least the sounds of a familiar Android camera.

Bosco set their phone aside and wiped their still dripping fingers against Daya’s cheek like it was a used dish towel, then made her way back behind Daya. They breathed in, a faint smell of the blonde’s conditioner wafting to her nose. “Open.” She ordered, patting the cheek with her cleaner hand. Daya’s jaw dropped, giving Bosco permission to shove her the cum-covered fingers into her mouth. “Clean.”

Daya tasted herself on the fingers– her tongue swirling around them like a popsicle on a summer day –, and it was the best thing she’d ever tasted in that moment. She bobbed her head up and down and barely noticed Bosco’s other hand stretched across her chest groping one of her breasts.

She might as well have gotten wet again from just that. Then again, it wasn’t that hard to get her aroused. Any sort of stimulation or an off-handed glance from a pretty girl could have gotten Daya’s panties soaked in an instant. She once again felt a familiar set of lips brushing against her ear. “Color?”

Daya almost forgot how to form words when Bosco checked in on her. How was she feeling? First of all, she felt great. She stammered, fumbling over syllables –and the fingers still in her mouth– before she gave her official verdict. “Green… Still green.”

“Good.” Bosco finger-fucked her throat to the point where their sub was deepthroating the latex. “Take it. Take it like the good slut I know you are.” They cooed, her eyes focusing on Daya’s desperation. The way her body reacted to every little motion was one of the best things she loved about her partner. 

It may have been greedy of her, but the blonde wanted something bigger. She didn’t really feel that from the fingers alone. She mumbled a garbled “more, please” around Bosco’s fingers as her hips spasmed yet again, grinding on nothing.

“What was that?” They pulled their fingers out of her mouth for a second before shoving them back in, thinking it would be more fun to hear her captive struggle to speak around them. “I couldn’t quite understand you.”

She tried to get the words “I need something bigger, My Liege” out, but it once again sounded unintelligible. Maybe the words “something bigger” or even their title were fully understood. Everything else? No.  Lucky for her, Bosco knew exactly what she meant.

“What’s that? You wanna swallow my seed? The greatest hero of all time wants to be a criminal mastermind’s — her rival’s fleshlight? ” Bosco took the fingers out and wiped them against Daya’s cheek again. She started unzipping her fly, getting herself hard in the process. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“Please… let me worship you, My Liege.”

“If you insist. We oughta have you plugged up, so you don’t cause water damage.” Bosco taunted as she slipped a vibrating dildo into her, turning it on in the process. 

Before Daya could even ask who ‘we’ referred to, she felt another eruption of pleasure between her legs. She arched her back, leaning forward in an attempt to get a little taste of Bosco in her mouth. 

“You cum when I cum, understood?”

Daya nodded in agreement before Bosco entered inside her mouth. Moving herself on the toy inside her, she gently suckled at the tip, her tongue licking up any possible pre-cum from there. It felt strange to do without her hands, but she was never one to back down from a challenge.  Momentarily forgetting how to pleasure someone orally for a second, she let Bosco’s length just sit in her mouth while her lips tightened around it. 

Before she knew it, Bosco held the back of her head and decided to thrust into her, making the fleshlight comment into a reality of sorts. Her dick sat in throat. The action that reminded her of lazy Sunday mornings where the two of them weren’t able to get up turned rougher and forceful, and she couldn’t complain there. She didn’t mind rough at all.

While they used Daya’s head, Daya had other ideas. She used her tongue more, the flat of it running on the underside of her length to stimulate her further. The strategy seemed to have worked a bit too well throughout the course of the blowjob.

“I’m gonna – fuck, Daya, you’re so good. I love you so much. –” They didn’t care that the ‘I love you’ slipped out; her mouth was just that divine. “I’m gonna cum.”

And she did. Daya quickly followed suit, releasing herself onto the dildo that didn’t slow its pace. She could keep coming like that for ages, like she was constantly caught within the roaring waves of pleasure.

“Hehe… how was that, hero? How did it taste, knowing you’ve been defeated, reduced to… this?” They pulled out, some of their cum dribbling down Daya’s chin. 

“Amazing… My Liege.” She answered, surprised that she could remember her own name.

“Good girl…”Bosco purred, “Now for the pièce de résistance.” They took the blindfold off for the last time and let Daya adjust to the light again. “Look here,” She ordered as they showed off a choker Daya hadn’t seen before: something just for this occasion. It was almost like one of the ones with the heart-shaped D-ring, but with a sturdier black leather. “This way… everyone knows you’re mine. As if they couldn’t already tell…” The mastermind giggled as she twirled the collar on her finger. 

“Please…” Daya begged, her voice hoarse from the fingers and her pleading eyes fixating on the collar, following its every motion. “Please… my Liege…”

“Use your words and tell me what you need… That shouldn’t be hard for someone who had such a smart mouth earlier, should it?”

“No, my Liege. It s–shouldn’t.” She squeezed her eyes shut, as if the tightness of the squeeze made her focus more. Her mind was too deep in subspace and relishing in an long-lasting afterglow that all she could think about was the hazy pleasure that clouded all of her decisions.

“If you want me to collar you, all you have to do is ask, baby.” They laughed, any pretense of her villainous persona melting away by the second.

“P…please collar me, my Liege. I’m yours, all yours!” 

“There, was that hard?” Bosco smirked as she grabbed a pair of scissors from off the table and cut the bondage tape off their submissive. Then, they unlocked the spreader bar, helping Daya stand to her feet.  “You good, Daya?”

Daya gave a few quick nods as she clung to her girlfriend like a baby koala. She needed a moment to fully come to her senses. She looked up at them, and she could have passed out from how beautiful Bosco was. “Boscy… we didn’t get to—“

“I know, and it’s okay. Tonight was all about you. And you…” They maneuvered the collar around Daya’s craned neck, securing it in place before gently massaging her back, grounding touches to bring her back to reality. “did so well… How about I clean you up real quick and draw you a bath? You… can take that off when you get in the water. Don’t want the leather getting all messed up and all.”

“Sounds great… my Liege.” Daya giggled as she took herself off Bosco and leaned against the bed.

“You don’t have to call me that right now, you know.” Bosco set both of the chairs back to their original spots in the room and started getting out of her corset. Unless you want it to be a whole TPE thing… That thought of a permanent dynamic only brushed her mind, but that was for another day.

“I know, but it just rolls off the tongue.”

“Fair enough. I’ll get that bath ready and we can talk more about it, ‘kay? You want bubbles, right?”

“Damn right, I do! Maybe we’ll look at that photo you look” Daya sneakily followed behind her domme and washed the ruined makeup, drool, and leftover cum off her face in the nearest sink. Looking in the mirror, she saw her delightfully ruined body and the collar around her neck. Her mind wandered to how she even got to this in the first place.

–

“So this subreddit is suggesting ‘mattress’ as a possible title? Combining master and mist–?”

“No.” Bosco immediately shut that idea down. “I see what they’re trying to do. You’re not calling me ‘mattress’ or ‘mastress’ or… whatever other combos they have. And get off Reddit.”

Daya sighed as she furiously typed ‘gender neutral titles for dominant’ into another tab, hoping for another reliable source. “Back to the drawing board then… Captain?”

“I like it, but not the vibe I’m going for.”

“Owner?”

“Fuck no!”

“Then, what do you want? None of these sound like a criminal mastermind; they’re all so regal…” Daya rattled off a few names from the list, laughing at almost every one. “‘Your Highness?’ ‘Your Eminence?’ ‘Your Grace?’ Oh yeah! Spank me harder, My Liege!”

And there it was. The next thing she heard was a low cackle, gradually growing faster and louder. From that reaction alone, Daya knew she was in for a wild time.